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It was Friday evening.I had left work and driven to my Master's house.I had been in slave training under this Master for a while, and was beginning to make some real progress.

I had been given a front door key, and as my Master was not home yet I let myself in.I knew the routine.I went straight to the bedroom and took off all my clothes and placed them neatly in the wardrobe.I went to the kitchen cupboard where my collar is kept and placed it around my neck.My dick was already hard with the thoughts of how my Master may use me during the weekend.I knelt by the back door in the 'present' position and spent some time letting the thoughts of work and the outside world disappear, and began to focus my mind on my Master and my slavery.My cock grew even harder as my mind concentrated on how I could serve my Master better this weekend.After I had focussed my mind I said aloud, "To my Master, I give my all".

I rose to my feet and went to the table in the lounge to read the list of instructions my Master always left for me.It was usually a list of chores to be done before my Master arrives home from work to ensure the house is clean and tidy.This week it was different.The list began as normal - hoover the bathroom, clean the shower, etc.But after the list of items about the chores for the bathroom there was a cryptic statement.It said, "When you've performed the above chores search for an envelope somewhere in the bathroom before you continue the list."

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This is story involves four men: three black and one white and if gay interracial sex upsets you, head on over to some other place.

It was a rainy day and my car had to be towed to Pepboys for the second time in the same week.I start to wonder what could the problem be.To be honest about the matter I didn't pay anything, but they kept me there for about three hours.I remember because I had just finish running and I was sweaty and need a shower bad.I am a 34 year old Bald black male.Some say that I look like I am 26 because I have this baby face.I run and workout regularly to keep in shape.I am 5'10" and weigh 200 lbs of muscle and I love to wear tight spandex to show my muscular legs and my 7.5 soft dick, which grows to 9.5 when hard. So I remember needing a shower and an standing in the waiting room of Pepboys for my car.

I noticed I was the only person at the Auto Shop and these three guys kept coming by and asking silly questions like "Is this your car?""Do you want us to fix the car and anything else?"I told them yes and please hurry because I need to take a shower really bad.The black guy named Rob said "he will go ask his manager, Will, to see if I could use their shower".Now Rob was 45 years old, but only looked like he was my age.He was 6'2" with a mean body. I know I could have licked him like a sucker.His muscles were coming out of those work cloths and his pants were really tight, because I could see his cock print and he was big.I know he must have been at least 8.5 soft. And his ass was so round, but oh course I held back.He left to go ask Will.I was getting hot just thinking about him and my dick was starting to stretch my short spandex shorts.Lucky for me I put on a long shirt to cover up.

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This fictional story contains verbal sex between two callers. If you cannot separate fantasy from reality, or if this fabulous tome turns you off, you shouldn't continue reading.

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"I want to lie next to you and feel the warmth of your naked body, excite you with the feel of my fingers running over your chest.Brush lightly the tips of your hardening nipples, pinching them and making them sting and stand up to attention.I am taking your right nipple into my mouth and running my tongue over the tip, blowing on it, making it feel the warmth of my breath than the chill as I move to the left.I am running my hand down your flat hard stomach and over the front of your briefs, feeling your hard cock and the looseness of your balls.As I slide my hand under the waistband playing with the tip of your cock running my fingers over the head, I feel precum slippery and slick.I suck on your left nipple, running my hand up and down your shaft.Your nipple feels like my tongue running over the head of your cock.I am squeezing your cock and begin a constant up and down of my fist.I can feel your hips advancing up to meet my hand, moving your cock faster and faster.I hear you breath in short gasps as you cry, "faster, please faster, harder" in my ear.I feel the pulsing hardness of your cock in my hand, your loud gasping moan as you shoot ropes of hot cum over your chest and stomach.I stroke harder, using your cum as lube on your hard slippery cock to squeeze out the last droplet of your precious cum.Your hips start to slow their rhythmic dance as your cock softens in my hand"

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Warning! This story is sexually explicit, if you are not of legal age to read such or are offended by this type of writing do not read any further. The story I'm about to tell is set during the 1960s and is based in part on factual events; therefore, I've changed the names, dates and places to protect certain people. The author retains all rights to this story.To contact the author cut and paste making appropriate corrections and E-mail: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com

Weekend Pass in a Texas Town By Randall Rumper

God, his body felt warm as I backed up into him.My partner was spooning me in the bed with a semi-erect cock pressing into my butt crack.Oh how I wanted him to slip the salami back into my throbbing asshole and pound my ass again.A couple hours before Danny had filled my rectal cavity with the entirety of his raw hot sausage, fucking me for over an hour before emptying his load inside me.That was the first time Danny had fucked me; the first time I'd been fucked like that since my college days.

I was rock hard that morning, not from lust, but a piss hard-on.I managed to wriggle free from Danny's grasp, so I could get out of bed and take care of my bathroom duties. After relieving myself and cleaning up I took a seat in the chair by the only window in the small hotel room to gaze out at the early Saturday morning sky.My ass was a little sore as I sat in the chair; however, the warmth from the sun's rays streaming through the open window seemed to sequester the smarting in my ass.

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This is a true story. Only the names have been changed. In 1993 I was a freshman at Cal State LA, and living in an off-campus apartment with two roommates. I was an engineering student, but I was taking some theater arts courses in the evenings for fun, as electives. I was cast in a small role in one of the department's plays, to be directed by a junior named Jason.

Jason was French, and had grown up in Paris and Los Angeles. He was athletic, and was on one of the schools swimming teams. He had dirty blonde hair, which he wore long, and he never had any problem getting girls. He always had a girlfriend or a girl hanging around him anyway.

I am basically straight, and I was totally straight at this time. I had fantasized about having sex with guys, and I had fantasized about having sex with girls as well, but I really hadn't done very much of either. But I was focused on meeting girls, getting a date, and maybe getting laid. I just wasn't having very much luck.

Jason lived in a giant loft in downtown LA with two or three other theater students. They were constantly having parties at the loft, and it was a place where many students and friends gathered to hang out, make music, work on art and theater projects, and stuff like that.

One time when a bunch of us were rehearsing, we worked late into the night - which was not unusual, we would sometimes work all night. The others left and Jason invited me to stay over since I had a longer drive, and one of his roommates was away. I agreed and crashed in the roommate's bed, and slept through the night, and every ting was cool. When I woke up I heard sounds of cereal and silverware and stuff from the kitchen area, and went out to see what was up. The other roommates were there, along with one of the neighbors, fixing coffee and breakfast, reading the paper and whatnot. I helped myself to coffee and sat down.

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This is a complete work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story is copywrited and sole property of the author. It may not be reproduced in any media format without the express written consent of the author.

Hello again gentle reader, I have been looking through my files and found several stories that I have been working on. Now as some of you might know this last fall semester was a killer for me. I didn't even have time to answer my e-mail let alone work on my fiction. So I was thinking that maybe if I posted what I had it might serve to inspire me to work on it more. Who knows I might just finish these stories someday soon. Now about this new story, I honestly didn't know this one was lurking around inside my head. I have been developing another story with a skater punk as the main character. I even went so far as to outline the chapters; yea I know I'm a writing fool, and was all set to begin writing it. Then one night I was listening to some music and suddenly this story began to pour out of my mind. Sometimes even I don't know where they come from. So here's a taste of what is rambling around inside my head.

I may be contacted at writerscramp71@yahoo.com

Small Differences By J.C.

People are basically cruel, mean and petty. I should know I've been the butt of their jokes and hatred for many years. If you're one of those people who don't fit in, if you stand out from the crowd because your different then you know what I'm talking about. It started in elementary school, being the smallest in my class seemed to be the only reason I was picked on. No matter how hard I fought back I could never win. They didn't even respect me for sticking up to them.

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Just Another Locker Room Fantasy Copyright MMV T.N.S.

I stood just outside the fitness center's main doors, trying to smoke as quickly as possible.The sweat was already starting to freeze the tips of my ears, and my thin workout clothes did little to protect me from Winter's unforgiving chill.Looking up through a haze of smoke and blowing snow, I watched as people hurried from their parked cars through the blizzard and through the automatic doors, letting out a rush of warm air every time they opened.It was the first snow of the season, and it had been accompanied by a blast of arctic Canadian air.

With one long, last drag I ashed the cigarette to the filter, threw it into a waste bin and turned, shuddering, to reenter the building.My head, still sweaty from a hard workout, was chilled and aching.I supposed I could have gone directly from the aerobics area to the locker room, but I had decided to get a quick smoke in before cleaning up.

Walking back to the lobby I turned right instead of going left and up a set of stairs.That would have led me back up to the weights and aerobic areas, the place from which I had just come.My legs felt rubbery, the muscles stretched and overworked.The sauna would feel especially nice tonight.

I stopped to relieve myself before I got to my locker, then continued to the back of the locker room.It smelled faintly of chlorine, antiseptic and the mingled smells of males of all ages.I punched my code number into the door number 160 (my lucky number), heard the beep and pulled it open. As I undressed I glanced around me: most of the people at my gym are either young and gung-ho about being beautiful and fit, or old and trying to undo what bad eating and heart attacks had already done.College athletes and beer-bellied lawyers and wrinkly old men...not the best selection, you would think, but I don't mix business and pleasure.And I consider my fitness very serious business.

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