— Originally published in Advocate Men magazine - February, 1996 —

Watching the sun set behind a city he won't have the opportunity to explore, Jack stands on the 21st-floor balcony of a new apartment building, absently eating deli lasagna from a take-out container. Naked and still wet from his shower, he just stands there as rivulets of water trickle from the strands of his long, sun-bleached hair. The water beads and glistens across his strong, smooth body, and Jack involuntarily shivers as a cool breeze wraps around him, urging his nipples to stand at attention.

Looking across the skyline and beyond to the darkening orange-to-purple horizon, Jack is thinking that he wouldn't be where he's standing now if he hadn't walked into a little excitement late this afternoon. He smiles at the memory, and his cock begins to stiffen.

It was soon after 5 p.m. when Jack found himself lost in a desolate part of the city. Normally very good with maps and directions, Jack was frustrated as hell that he'd wound up so turned around with no sense of bearing at all. "Fucking asshole!" he said to himself aloud. "Well, that's what I get."

Jack's mind had been on other things for the previous ten minutes or so. To be precise, he'd been remembering the trio of big-dicked, ass-packing forest rangers he'd fucked with three nights before. Just thinking about the things those guys did to him had turned Jack's sleeping log of meat into a steel rod that pulsed and drooled beneath his worn jeans and well-used jockstrap. But as memorable as the triple fuck had been, Jack was sensible enough to know that there were more important, things to deal with at the moment. After three days on foot with his cross-country backpack weighing heavily on his shoulders, Jack had begun to wonder whether he would ever find his way to that elusive hostel so he could eat, shower, and get some much-needed sleep.

With one hand at the cramped and bulging crotch of his jeans, Jack scanned his immediate surroundings for any signs of life. From what he could tell, the area was made up of an odd mix of warehouses and low-income apartment projects, many in varying stages of demolition. A few of the buildings were in the process of getting face-lifts, part of an apparent gentrification of the area. But there wasn't a soul in sight, and Jack hadn't seen a single car go by for the past several blocks.

After another couple of streets, Jack spotted a construction site, with a few cars and trucks still in the vicinity. It was a bit late in the day for a construction crew to still be at it, but Jack hoped that he could at least get directions from someone, so he hiked on over.

Jack neared the corner of the building and came to a halt as a loud, angry voice pierced the still air. He peered around the corner to find a huge, mean-looking black man pinning a shorter black man against the wall. Big Dude looked like an ebony mountain stuffed into a suit and tie, his face hot and twisted by a blind and furious anger. Little Guy was a dark brown, thickly muscled construction worker wearing a white undershirt tucked into skintight cutoff jeans, with white socks and heavy work boots down below. Little Guy was unsuccessfully doing his best to reason with Big Dude.

"He's gonna kill him," Jack said under his breath. And then the first blow knocked the wind right out of Little Guy. A rush of adrenaline coursed through Jack's body, and, thinking quickly, he dropped his backpack and took a quick glance around him for any kind of a prop. He snatched up a clipboard and hard hat from the hood of a truck, then raced around the corner of the building, grateful that his opened flannel shirt, T-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots would all have been right at home on this job.

"Bud!" Jack barked at Little Guy, genuine alarm in his voice. "Get your ass over here now! O'Hara's taken a fall, and we've got no time to lose!" Both Big Dude and Little Guy stared blankly at Jack, who just marched right over to the pair and grabbed Little Guy by the arm. "I said now, Bud! The cops and an ambulance are on their way, but we need everyone on this now. So let's move it!" Jack dragged Little Guy as if he were a rag doll right out of Big Dude's hands and around the corner of the building. He snatched up his backpack and kept on moving, through a doorway and up a flight of stairs, not stopping until he came to a window at the front of the building. Jack wanted to keep an eye on Big Dude.

"Man, I don't know who the fuck you are," gasped Little Guy when they'd come to a stop, "but you just saved my life."

'Yeah, well, it didn't take a genius to know that that dude was out of his mind, and—" Jack was cut off by the screeching of tires. "Hey, look at this." Both Jack and Little Guy watched as a black Jaguar burned rubber and took off down the street.

Little Guy let out a whoop and a loud laugh. "That is one bad dude, man! But just look at that fucker go!"

Shaking his head, Jack said, "Well, there was no way in hell I could have taken that big guy by myself, so I took a chance with that bit about the cops coming. Looks like it did the trick."

While Little Guy looked out the window, Jack turned to take a fast closer look at the man beside him. Standing almost a foot shorter than Jack's 6 feet 2, Little Guy all but busted the seams of his undershirt and tightly packed high-cut shorts with a smooth, hunky, muscle-bound little body that wouldn't quit. Eye-catching nipples poked obscenely against the stretched cotton of his white undershirt, and as magnificently shaped as his high-rounded ass may have been, it was that something big and heavy inside the front of Little Guy's shorts that really grabbed Jack's attention. Glancing up to the broad, smiling face and shaved head glistening with sweat, Jack recognized hot stuff when he saw it, and he felt the surge of a major hard-on make a fast return in his jeans.

Little Guy laughed again and turned to Jack. "Hey, man, I gotta get back to work. Thanks again for saving my life." They shook hands before heading back down the stairs.

It was then that Jack asked for directions to the hostel. Ray —Little Guy—said that he was going away for a few days, leaving directly from the job site, and that Jack was welcome to use his place for the weekend. Jack tried to modestly decline the offer of the apartment key and the $50 Ray slapped into his hand ("So you can catch a cab and pick up some food, man"), but Ray put a stop to all the fuss with, "Look, man, you saved my life. So let me do somethin' for you." Jack couldn't refuse.

Showered, fed, and exhausted, Jack goes into the bedroom to crash. He'd originally planned to just roll out his sleeping bag on the floor, but now he thinks, What the hell, and climbs into the cool, green-sheeted bed.

Jack turns on his side and takes a deep breath, his lungs filling with the lingering scent of the absent Ray. Smiling into the pillow, he thinks of the little muscle man who had stood close enough to touch, close enough to taste, and— Jack fantasized—close enough to fuck. Jack's cock fills hard and fast with these thoughts, and his tired body awakens with the need to come.

He throws off the covers and flops onto his back, pulling up his legs as one hand mauls his nine inches of uncut meat and the fingers of his other hand reach into the smooth crack of his ass. But Jack suddenly decides a little something extra would be nice, and, sitting up in bed, he clicks on the bedside lamp to take a look around.

There's not much in the room besides the bed, a pair of bedside tables and lamps, and a large color television and VCR beyond the foot of the bed. A dozen or so videos are lined up on a shelf below the television. Jack crawls over the bed and reaches for the videos, which at first appear to be homemade tapes. Cryptic handwritten labels are of no help, so with high hopes for some serious smut, Jack pops one into the VCR. A few pushed buttons on the remote control change the screen from snowy static to black, then to the full colors of a brightly lit bedroom. Jack strokes his meat with anticipation.

The camera moves in on a huge bed covered in red sheets, and smack in the middle of the bed is a big-breasted Nordic blond woman, her legs wide apart, fingers from both hands giving her pussy a workout. She is talking to someone offscreen, telling him to get his cock over there and give her a fuck to remember. The camera has been closing in on her face, and as she sits up and leans over to one side of the bed, the screen fills with a tight close-up of her opened mouth and protruding tongue. Jack grips his meat, staring at the screen, hoping he won't be disappointed.

Slowly inching forward from the edge of the screen, there now appears the glistening head of a massive dark brown cock. Clear fluid oozes from the tip of the huge, meaty shaft, and as it draws closer and closer to the woman's face, the long strand of cock drool drapes over the woman's extended tongue and dribbles down and off her chin. The huge dome of the great cock draws closer still, finally pushing into and beyond the stretched-to-capacity opening of her pink mouth. The woman breathes loudly through flared nostrils as spit bubbles and spills from the sides of her mouth.

Jack wonders if the cock is real or if the huge size is but a trick of the camera lens. Maybe it's a simple matter of perspective, with the woman possibly of uncommonly petite stature and the cock just of average dimensions. But as the camera pulls back and swings around, it is clear that both the man and the woman are about the same size—the man simply carries an enormous log of meat.

Jack scoots back on the bed to rest against the pillows stacked at the headboard. He spits into his hand—straight porn may not be his thing, but it'll do in a pinch. And with a cock as huge as the one on-screen, Jack knows he's in for a good time.

With both hands in a spit-slicked grip on his meat, Jack draws up his knees to press the heels of his feet hard against the base of his butt. He stares at the television as the camera continues to move gently from side to side. It finally pans down along the front of the hunky, hard-muscled dark brown man, as if being seen through the woman's eyes. Suddenly the man's face fills the screen.

"Shit!" Jack says in recognition.

"Ooh, baby, that's real nice. You just keep suckin' on Ray's dick, gettin' it all hard and wet, and then Ray's gonna fill your pussy with a big old load of hot fuck cream. How does that sound, baby? Hmm?"

The camera dips to show the woman going apeshit over Ray's huge slab of meat.

Jack's mouth yawns wide as he imagines Ray's cock plugging his throat. He thinks how amazing it is that the little fucker could carry such a big piece on such a deceptively small (although muscular) body. But then, Jack's experiences have taught him that stereotypes are pretty much useless and misleading when it comes to cock size anyway. Proportion of overall body size or of individual body parts (nose, hands, feet), not to mention the long-held notions regarding specific races or nationalities, rarely correlate with actual in-the-flesh dimensions. And Jack has had more than his share of some mighty talented average-to-small—but handsome, tasty, hard-fucking, and come-blasting—cocks. Still, even Jack is a sucker for something big, and this Ray is quite a package: a short, stacked hunk with a cock of almost frightening proportions. Jack has never said no to a challenge, and his regret is that he'll be gone before Ray's return late Sunday night. The video will just have to do.

"Baby," Ray purrs on screen, "how'd you like this thing up inside you, hmm?" The camera swings to one side as Ray eases the woman onto her back and drags her by the knees to the edge of the bed. With his hands at her ankles, he spreads her legs far apart to reveal her slick, hairless pussy, and she is moaning, uttering barely audible words of need.

Jack sucks three fingers into his mouth, soaking them with spit. He watches the screen as Ray's fat, drooling cock head pokes and prods at the lips of the woman's pussy, threatening to dive deep but not yet entering the slick canal of pink flesh. Jack slips his wet fingers down to his ass to stroke across his hungry hole, waiting for Ray to make the next move.

"Yeah, baby, I hope you're ready, 'cause Ray's gonna fuck the living shit out of you." The woman's voice grows louder as she begins to babble a litany of incoherent lust. Ray's perfect buttocks pull back, and with exact aim he slams forward, shoving all 12-plus inches deep inside the fuck-crazed woman. Jack simultaneously jams his three slick fingers up his ass. The woman's body convulses, and she reaches forward to try to push Ray out of her. But Ray doesn't budge; instead, he holds perfectly still, that smile of possession on his face, watching the woman squirm and writhe in discomfort from being impaled on something so huge. Jack stares at the screen, mesmerized by the sight, holding the fingers inside himself as still and steady as Ray's unmoving cock.

The woman's body can resist the invasion no longer, and she drops back onto the bed, her flawless white body in stark contrast to the red sheets. She closes her eyes and gasps for air through parted lips. Her nipples are flushed and stiff, and her skin glimmers with a fine film of sweat. This is what Ray has apparently been waiting for, because only now does he begin to move, slowly easing his cock out until the glistening head oozes juices onto the woman's battered pussy. The slab of meat looks harder than before as it hovers there, bobbing in midair, a pulsing threat just waiting to deliver its explosive load.

"He's gonna come," Jack whispers as he pulls his fingers from his ass, feeling his own load so near to erupting. His eyes are on Ray's balls, which have pulled up tightly into the smooth dark scrotum.

The woman looks as if she's finally found some kind of peace, and she just rests there, limp and trusting, her eyes still closed. Ray smiles and licks around the woman's right ankle. She moans a sleepy response. Ray suddenly slams forward, skewering the woman on his meat, shoving her half a foot farther across the bed. The woman cries out, arches her back, and shudders in an amazing orgasm. Ray pulls out, gives his meat three yanks, and shoots a dozen thick white ribbons of come all over the exhausted, trembling woman.

The sight pushes Jack over the edge. He crams his fingers back up his ass, tearing at his hole to reach as deep as he can. As his fingertips ram against his swollen prostate, he cries out, grabs his cock, and begins to shoot. Hot, wet come sails high and falls heavily, splattering his face and chest with blast after pent-up blast. His body jerks and twists as he shoots again and again until he simply collapses—spent, used, and just plain dead to the world.

Two o'clock in the morning. Crashing noises from the next room. Uncertain of his hearing, Jack opens his eyes to check out the bedside clock. Still on his stomach, the sheets kicked aside, his face half buried in a pillow, he remains motionless, listening. The bedroom door suddenly flies open, and two figures, lit from behind, burst into the room.

"I've had enough of your fuckin' shit!" barks the bigger silhouette. "And you know the deal: I fuck your sweet ass for every thousand you owe me. And from the looks of things, little man, I'd say you owe me a helluva lot of fucks!"

Jack recognizes the voice of Big Dude, who throws Ray roughly onto the bed, the room still in darkness. Jack lets out an involuntary "Oof!" as Ray lands on top of him.

"Fuck!" Ray yelps, scampering across and off the bed.

Big Dude clicks on the table lamp. His look of surprise at seeing Jack's naked backside turns to one of amusement. "Well, well, well, little Ray. And you telling me that you don't go in for this shit."

"I don't, man," Ray protests, standing flat against the wall, with Jack on the bed between Ray and Big Dude. "He's just staying here for a couple of nights, that's all. Really, man, I don't do that homo shit. Honest."

Jack, now awake, starts to roll over, but Big Dude puts a firm, hot hand on Jack's shoulder. "No, you stay right like that, my man." With his other hand he traces down along Jack's spine and into the crevice of Jack's big-muscled ass cheeks.

Jack stays put, his mind working fast, while his skin comes alive at the touch of the big pair of hands.

"You telling me you never had this fine piece of ass, little Ray?" Big Dude asks teasingly.

Jack suddenly speaks up. "No, man. He hasn't touched me. But," Jack pauses, smiling at what is to come, "I'll make a deal with you."

Big Dude brings his smiling face close to Jack's, his breath thick and heavy with cigarettes and beer. "There ain't nobody here in no kind of shape to be making deals with me, sweet-ass white boy."

Jack pushes his face closer to Big Dude's. "Fuck me," he says, smiling at the man's dumbstruck reaction. "You heard me. Fuck my ass. You can fuck me all you want for the next, say, 12 hours. But whoever comes the most wins."

"Wins what?" Big Dude smiles, playing along.

"If you come more times than I do, then you get Ray's ass. But if I come more than you, you back off and give Ray a six-month, no-interest extension on what he owes." Jack doesn't know where he pulled that one from, but it's worth a try.

Big Dude is thinking. "Now why would I want to consider such a deal, sweet-ass white boy?" he asks. "Hmm?"

"Because," Jack says, easing himself onto his hands and knees, turning his ass toward Big Dude, "you have never had an ass like this one in your life, and you never will again. So you just think about how good it'll feel to sink that big black cock of yours deep inside my hot white hole and how this ass of mine is gonna make you come like you've never come before. Just think about it, 'cause I'm getting hot just talking about it. And I need to get fucked, man. I love to get fucked. So what do you say?" Jack pushes out with his sphincter, and the puckered flesh of his ass brushes against the thick, warm fingertips of Big Dude.

Big Dude's mouth goes slack, and he has to wipe away the pool of spit that forms at the front of his lower lip.

"Well?" Jack asks, giving a wink to the dumbfounded Ray, who still stands plastered against the wall. Jack glances down to Ray's black jeans and spots something thick pressing hard against the straining zipper.

"But I—" stammers Big Dude.

"Look, pal," Jack says, "if it'll help any, I'll eat out Ray's ass while you fuck me. That way, you'll get a good look at the ass you seem to be so in love with while you're fucking one that is more talented than any hole you've ever plugged. How about that?" Jack turns from Big Dude and looks back to his host. "Ray?" Ray gives a small, uncertain nod of agreement, his hands at his crotch. Jack turns back to Big Dude. "What do you say, man? We're talking the stuff that dreams are made of. Are you gonna fuck me or what?"

Big Dude stands still, his eyes darting back and forth between Jack's ass and little Ray against the wall. Jack feels time slipping by, and, afraid he'll lose his catch, he decides to reel it in. With his forehead pressed into the sheets, he raises his ass into the air, spreads his knees, and reaches back with his hand to shove three fingers up his hole.

"Fuck!" whispers Big Dude.

"Is it a deal?" Jacks asks.

Big Dude begins to open the fly of his leather pants. "Yeah, man. It's a deal."

Sucker! Jack says to himself, laughing. He looks over at Ray. "Come on, man," he says. "Show me what you got. You don't have to do anything but let me eat your hole, man. So get out of those clothes and get on up here." Jack feels a big hot finger slip into his ass beside his own three fingers, stretching at the ring of pliant flesh. This, he thinks to himself, is gonna be too fucking easy.

Six o'clock in the morning. Jack laughs out loud. Big Dude has come for the fourth and final time, and Jack has outshot him by three times the count. But that's not what Jack finds so funny. It's that on this fourth orgasm, when Big Dude pulled out to prove he was coming by shooting three long, thin jets of translucent come, Big Dude's eyes rolled back in his head, and he practically passed out, crumbling into a heap onto the floor beside the bed.

Ray's face is a mixture of alarm and disbelief, and he scrambles off the bed to check on the mountain of limp black flesh sprawled out on the carpet. "Well," he mutters, "he's alive..."

"Ha!" laughs Jack. "That dude didn't know what he was up against!" he says, still laughing as he sits up to take a look. Jack's body is covered in come, front and back, inside and out, now drying to a flaky, peeling shell. Jack loves all that come, and he sticks a few fingers up his slick, battered ass to stir it around, loving the way it oozes out of his hole to coat his hand. "Too bad he's such a wimp. All talk but not much in the bite department. And man, I could fuck for hours," he says, grinning at Ray.

The last four hours of cock up his ass have done nothing to dampen Jack's hunger for more sex. He looks down at Ray's naked dark brown body, glistening with sweat, his huge slab of meat leaking steadily onto the floor. And while Ray stays hunched over the once-threatening Big Dude, Jack finger-fucks his used hole as flashbacks of these recent hours of nonstop fucking whir through his mind.

Jack can still see Ray on his hands and knees as Jack buried his face between the hard, muscled globes of that perfect ass, all the while getting his own ass plowed by the fat, rigid meat of Big Dude. Then there was Big Dude stretched out on the bed with Jack crouched above him, riding Big Dude's cock like a cowboy on a wild bronco while Ray stood over Big Dude's head with Jack's face plugged back into Ray's butt. And then, for a change of pace, Jack crawled around the room with Big Dude skewering him with that big fat cock, urging him forward across the bed, flat against the wall, and then on his hands and knees across the bedroom floor.

But best of all was the grand finale. Forty minutes with Jack on his back, knees pulled to his chest, with Big Dude standing beside the bed, pounding away. And hot little muscle dude Ray spread out in a squat over Jack's hungry face, pressing his sweat- and spit-slicked ass onto Jack's mouth and tongue. Ray might never have had his ass eaten before, but within minutes of his first time with Jack, the man had become a rim junkie, scooting his hole back and forth across Jack's tongue, loosening up until the tight, puckered ring blossomed outward to let Jack into the musky heat. Repeatedly Jack had to knock Ray's hands off his big cock, fearing Ray would come before Jack got what he needed most. And Ray obliged, letting Jack take charge, letting Jack lick and suck the fucking life out of his deep, dark, never-before-touched asshole.

But now Jack watches Ray kneeling beside the fallen Big Dude, watches as Ray's drooling arm of meat rests slackly against the carpeted floor. "Now it's your turn, Ray. Come on up here and fuck me." Ray looks up at Jack finger-fucking himself, and his cock fills and lifts off the floor, bobbing in midair—an amazing feat, considering its heft and length. Jack rolls onto his back and pulls his hole wide with fingers from both hands. The pink inner surface glistens in the lamplight, gaping wide with the promise of dark, moist, enveloping heat.

Ray stands up and climbs onto the bed, squatting over the splayed surface of Jack's ass. Ray's drooling cock head spills fluid right into Jack's gaping hole, mixing with the partial loads Big Dude left before him. "I've never fucked ass before, man. I've never been with a dude before."

"Yeah, well, you've never had your ass eaten before either, and you got the hang of that pretty quick," Jack says encouragingly as his fingers dip in and out of his hole. "So come on and fuck me. It'll be better than any pussy you've ever had."

Ray looks Jack in the eye and nods. He looks down again as Jack's fingers pull away and the mouth of Jack's ass closes over the tip of Ray's cock. Ray's breath catches at the sensation of the tight, wet heat, and he is powerless to resist as his cock is all but sucked inside Jack's throbbing hole. "Jesus!" he gasps, his abdomen smacking flat against the backs of Jack's thighs.

Jack's own cock hovers over his slick, come-encrusted belly, leaking into the mess he and Big Dude left behind them. "Aw, fuck! That feels so good, Ray. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard."

Ray pulls back, mesmerized by the thin pink sheath of ass flesh clinging to his come-coated shaft. He lets the head pop free, then watches as Jack's hole slowly collapses on itself.

"Do it, man," Jack says, reaching up to latch onto Ray's large, rigid nipples. "Make me feel it."

Ray takes aim and slams forward, impaling Jack on his meat all the way to the balls. He backs out and rams in again, setting up the steady rhythm of a gut-pounding fuck, with each forward thrust inching Jack ever closer to the headboard.

Jack chokes on his breath. It feels as if his insides are being shoved aside and completely rearranged to allow Ray's massive cock to reach farther and farther inside him. And for a moment Jack imagines the huge log of meat punching through his chest cavity and on up through his throat, farther with every thrust until that great ball of a cock head slams out of his mouth as it begins to shoot its load.

Jack reaches down to his cock, holding it upright to slide along Ray's sweat-slippery abdomen. With his other hand he reaches below himself to latch onto Ray's balls. He pulls back on the thick, solid globes in their sac, and Ray begins to moan, his voice rising with every thrust of his cock. Ray's body arches forward, now bending over Jack's impaled body. His head begins to drop, his eyes close, and his moans increase in volume.

Jack is holding back, pacing himself to hold off for Ray. But this is too much. Ray's chin is just inches above Jack's cock, and his mouth hangs open as he gasps for air. Jack knows what will happen, and he tries to hold perfectly still. It will be only a matter of seconds.

"Fuck!" Ray cries out, slamming forward, his mouth now wide in a silent cry as his load blasts deep inside Jack's hungry hole. Ray's face jerks downward, and Jack's cock pops right into his mouth. Ray is so caught up in his own orgasm that he is oblivious to the mouthful of come he is sucking down his throat, and still he slams into Jack's ass as Jack keeps on shooting down Ray's throat.

Their bodies continue to rut against each other until both run out of steam. Ray suddenly falls forward, losing Jack's cock as his forehead slaps against Jack's belly. He continues his fucking motion, inching his face up the front of Jack's body until his mouth crashes hard onto Jack's. Still fucking away, he gives the man on his back a mouth full of his own come. With a final thrust Ray slams against Jack's ass and collapses.

A big hand thumps onto the bed beside them. "Uh-oh," gasps Jack, trying to catch his breath. "It looks like we have company," and both Jack and Ray start laughing. "Come on. Let's give the poor fucker a hand." Jack and Ray untangle themselves and climb over the bed to give Big Dude an assist. They sit him on the edge of the bed, and while Ray props him up, Jack helps him get dressed.

"Man, what the fuck happened?" Big Dude groans, dazed and holding his head with both hands.

"You just lost a bet, my friend," says Jack, buttoning the front of Big Dude's shirt. "So are you gonna give Ray the six months, no interest? Or am I gonna have to take you for another four-hour spin around the bedroom?" Jack slips Big Dude's arms into his leather jacket and gives him a pat on his broad back.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You win. Just stay out of my face until you pay up, little Ray," Big Dude says seriously. "And as for you, sweet-ass white boy, I don't know how you did whatever the fuck it was that you did, but if you stick around for a while, you and I could make some serious cash."

Jack shakes his head and laughs. "Thanks, pal. But I'm moving on tomorrow night."

"Fuck. Whatever, man." Still holding his head, steadied by Jack and Ray, Big Dude stands and stumbles to the doorway. "Shit, man. That was one amazing fuck." He disappears through the doorway, and after a minute the front door slams.

Jack pulls Ray into the bathroom for a shower.

"Fuck, man. This was a fucking unbelievable night," says Ray, letting Jack take charge to scrub the both of them down.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you got a bang out of it," Jack says. "But right now I think we could both use some sleep. So how about we get back to bed, and then later, if you're gonna be around this weekend after all, maybe we could go another round or two —what do you say?" Jack kneels in the shower to lather up and rinse off Ray's still-impressive cock.

"Sure, man, whatever you say," Ray says, grinning sleepily, his back against the shower wall. "You saved my life again, so I owe you, man. I owe you."

Jack smiles and leans in to take the stiffening shaft of dark meat into his cock-hungry mouth. Sleep will have to wait.

THE     END