A news report of forbidden desire, forbidden love, and a fantasy fulfilled.

As a young gay man, not yet even out of senior high schoolhouse, it was always hard to find agency and means of fulfilling my sexual desires. The bathroom stalls were a hit and so were the park. Cruising region were a big hit because then no-one really cared about who you were, what your name was or even how old you were.

Let me be all the way this is not a story about a minor being taken reward of. I was fully aware of who I was, what I wanted, and puberty was far behind me. In fact, if accuracy be told I was often the hunter ... the one to inspire contact whenever I would go out among the bushes to meet a man. I was not that discriminating ; I was driven by the urges of early days and did n't reckon of anything other than how to get off.

As it so happens there was one chance meeting that led to a few calendar month of passion. He was a slight quondam, probably in his twenties, out running with his handsome shepherd always at his English. I had seen him often at the local spot, but he never seemed matter to in a cheeseparing little teenage young.

One day I was out in the car park and had fallen, twisting my ankle and while hobbling back to the parking lot I stopped to rub down my articulatio talocruralis and that is when he came along. This time, he stopped, and we started up a conversation. I noticed that his shepherd, was acting rather excited and was always pushing in. His shepherd was a nicely made male, his coat was broad and productive, and it felt groovy when I rubbed him down. Then his dog, Brutus by name, stuck his nose pile and into my crotch which was slightly damp with damp and sweat but it made my phallus stir. Hoping to avoid posting I slightly pushed Brutus aside and smiled and yet I could not help noticing the look this man was giving me as well as that he gave my crotch, so I decided to go for it and I reached out to impact his leg and give him that `` front ''.

He closed his eyes, relaxed into my touch and so having received a positive signal, I decided to invite him into the George H.W. Bush nearby. He refused. and asked if I would come in abode to his place which was n't far. Fully engaged, fully committed and not a little bit dying, I agreed and followed him home.

We were in the kitchen getting some refreshments and his dog was still in a state of excitation, pushing his nose into my genitalia which was making me very obviously hard. And then Brutus turned and went to his sea captain King John and nosed his crotch as well. I followed with hungry eyes and saw that John was also quite tough himself. John asked me in a quiet representative, if I liked what I saw. I whispered that yes I did like what I saw to which King John then asked if I minded having Brutus nosing about.

I had never dared quotation my attraction to animals in a manner that was not quite talked about and I do n't know why I did so now. But I whispered again that I did n't mind, that it was rather wind up.

John took me into the bread and butter room and sat me down to massage my ankle and Brutus was right there only this time he was nuzzling my genitalia, huffing and whiffing so that my genitals felt warmly and moist all over again. This time I did n't blockade Marcus Junius Brutus but instead opened my stage slightly which allowed my balls to slip out the side of meat and Marcus Junius Brutus started to lick.

privy was watching this intently and he slowly moved his hands up my leg and started to pull my shorts down, then he lifted my buns so that my ass was exposed. Brutus wasted no time and before I knew it I had my first `` bow-wow rim job ''. That was as far as it got for that day because the esthesis were so new that it did n't direct me long to explode.

And so it was, my first raid into the forbidden and I wanted more.

Over the adjacent few solar day, I could not discontinue thought process of this encounter. I would lay in bed at dark playing with myself and dreaming of whoremaster and what I would desire him to do to me, and yet I could not exactly branch my images of John from those of Brutus and the rasping of Brutus'glossa as he lapped at my cakehole. The way his natural language would solve the stallion length of my taint and then over the opening of my ass to finish with a little dip of the tongue tip as it entered my cavity. I could n't block how my asshole felt, the way it quivered, almost vibrating between each stroke of the glossa. And to be certainly, these thoughts would lead me to orgasm with frequency, and yet I wanted more. I wanted to get laid what it would palpate like to touch a dog 's tool, to stroke it, to rub myself against it.

I felt a fool really ... almost like a silly child with his first crush and I guess now that I think back, I did have a crush ... but was it for St. John or was it for Brutus ? I figured that there really was only one way to find out for sure and so in about another week I found myself back at the Mungo Park. But rather than cruising as I usually would, I was almost fixated on looking for John and Brutus. Every noise coming down the itinerary would micturate my nerve backwash, my breathing spell quicken.

It was getting late, later than I would normally outride and I was about to grant up and go home plate when I finally heard the haphazardness I was longing to listen. Here came Brutus around the bend in the track and with him came John. Now maybe it was my imagination, maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed though that when Brutus first caught a glimpse of me there, his pace quickened, his pull on the collar became little more pressing. I imagined that Saint John had a hint of a smile at seeing me and yet I was suddenly caught with an overwhelming shyness ... what was I going to say ?

Thankfully it had not been all my imaginativeness as it was can himself who began the conversation. saying that he had been held up at work and had not been able to get out and that he had missed seeing me in the Park over the last few days. I am not exactly sure as to the rest of our conversation as I was so taken with Marcus Junius Brutus who has recently been to the groomers and was more beautiful than before. However it had occurred, I found myself back in John 's house, sitting back on the couch with Brutus nuzzling and nudging me again. This clip however John the Evangelist was far more than involved that before, stroking my chest, rubbing my arms, kissing my neck. On occasion his hand would reach down and stroke the scheme of my prick, running a thumbnail across the head.

I was of course returning in sort, stroking the hairsbreadth on his forearm, returning the kisses when he would run far enough over. It was seventh heaven and I was so engaged that when John came around the lounge and raised me up, I fell into his weapon. He half impart me into the binding of the sign of the zodiac and into his sleeping accommodation. Marcus Junius Brutus of row was decently behind us and jumped on the bed, turning around with his breath heavy and his tongue dripping.

John and I laid back on the bed and we both began to explore each early in detail. His arms and legs were covered in a voiced layer of whisker and he had that little highway leading from his six-pack abs down to his jean His pectus was smooth to the touch and did n't appear to be shaven, his mamilla erect to correspond the hump of his rooster as it strained against the denim of his jeans.

I did n't waffle but began to work privy 's chest, pushing his arms back over his head as he reclined to find the worship he deserved. The smell of man stew under his arms was sharp yet smokey and I did n't waver. I buried my font in 1st one pit and then the other, John twitching a little at the titillation of tongue against flesh. I found my round and was so busy that I had barely noticed that there was a sound that matched my glossa lashing ... Marcus Junius Brutus was eagerly rasping his spit against the front of bathroom 's crotch in time to the regular recurrence I had set, turning the faded blue jean dark with his saliva.

I started to move my way down Gospel According to John torso, giving a few playful nybble on his incline which I know drives a man crazy. Stopping ever so briefly to run my lingua around and into his belly button and down amongst the hairs of his highway until I could undo the buttons of his denim with my teeth. After having undone his slide fastener and pushed his pants down, I was met with the full haste of male person musk that I have come to love and did not waste any more than clock time but to immerse my face into John 's crotch.

Of course, I was not alone, I had not forgotten Brutus on the bed, his masculine exponent a presence of animal lust that added to my own urgent want to delight my master. It was almost as if I were another of Saint John the Apostle 's dogs and indeed it was not long before my own pressing lapping met with that of Brutus. Having my tongue entwined with Brutus was such an exhilarating feeling. Of course I have had occasion to cause kissed a dog before but never in this style. It was different, charged with mutual sexual desire to please our master. Marcus Junius Brutus and I licked both incline of whoremaster 's throbbing cock, taking john 's sack between us, each of us exploring the star of John 's chunk and the cushy insides of our mouths as our tongues explored each other.

John started to shoot, thrusting himself into this mutual tongue tanning. kickoff my throat then pulling out to disappear into Marcus Junius Brutus 's waiting lip. His balls started to move, and I knew what was coming, and for sure enough before a few more slash, John had erupted. It was everywhere. It covered my lips, it was on Marcus Junius Brutus'face. Salty and sweetness, I simply did n't ever want it to stop flowing. And it was then that I exploded. I had never before experienced a `` deal free '' orgasm except maybe in my sleep. I lifted out of John 's lap, turned to feed him a kiss and let him taste himself on my lips even as Brutus licked at my own cum, each stroke of his rasping natural language sending quiver up and down my spine.

And so it was that I had my second taste of forbidden desire.

John, Brutus and I continued to have visit together although as I was finishing up the school year and John was spending More clip at work, we simply were not seeing as much of each other as I wanted.

I had great deal of experiences now to oversupply my mind with a lot of sexual fantasy yet at the same time, I could not help but remember that I had not yet fulfilled my dead on target desires in exploring sex with Brutus. I had of course touched him, played with him, jerking fondling him, but I had not yet experienced being fully engaged with Brutus in the way I desired. And now that I had a few more experiences I was no longer contentedness with touching Brutus'penis but wanted more. I had a discrete desire to be dominated by this beautiful creature, to savor him, to feel him, and to feel him inside me.

I am versatile in the chamber but lean towards being subservient and yet, not only had I not been taken by Brutus, but I had also not been taken by John the Evangelist and more than anything I wanted both of them to have their way with me, to use me in whatever way they wished. And it was with this in idea that I decided to push the envelope even though the sentiment of Marcus Junius Brutus scared me a little because I did not know what to have a bun in the oven. But Thomas More than the unease was an overwhelming, almost obsessional need to cognise, to experience, to debase myself fully and contain cipher back.

I was supposed to meet John and Brutus later that day so after having cleaned myself fully and with a mind full of guess sexual dreams, I set out for our usual rendezvous in the ballpark. This time John was already there with Brutus. He had a glimmer in his eye and a pocket-sized smirk on his face which struck me as quite deep. As I came closer Gospel According to John told me he had planned a few surprises for me, but he would n't say Thomas More until we got to his house.

As I walked in the room access, I saw that there was a exhibit on the countertop in the kitchen and John motioned for me to unfold it. Inside was a neckband and leash set to tally Brutus'and some leather shorts. John asked me if I would truly be his toy and would I mind wearing these new things. Of course, he did n't have to ask me twice, I was so turned on at the thought of wearing my dog collar and new leather shorts that I was out of my own clothes and fastening the collar round my throat almost before Saint John could wink. John the Divine attached my leash and with both Brutus and I, walked back to the sleeping room where yet another surprise waited.

He had moved the bed out of the way and instead, there was a low, padded bench/shop sawbuck widget set right there in the elbow room. There were also some early affair I did n't quite know but soon found out were sleeper and shackles so that I was stretched out over the workhorse with my ankles chained to the legs of the workhorse and shackled to my wrists which were also secured and buckled into place.

Once installed and quite exposed, my tenderness racing in expectation, lavatory revealed his final surprise when he stood over me placing a blindfold over my eyes. What was about to happen I had absolutely no clue but whatever it was, I wanted it. I had never really thought of this case of scene in my wildest of fantasies, but I figured that this was the fourth dimension when my wish of being dominated would be fulfilled.

Blind, I was relying on speech sound and smells to make out what was happening and certain enough I smelled John 's distinctive musk as he stood before me. He was naked and aroused and wasted no time in using me orally rather than me giving him worship. After a patch he pulled himself loose and moved around to the back of me, always caressing and stroking me. His hands were everywhere but mostly working my impertinence and massaging me, reaching around and under me to stroke at my own overrefinement dick. And then I felt him behind me as he laid himself fully against my body, pressing his cock against the load leather. Slowly pealing the shorts down, he started to use his clapper to heavy upshot until I was so ready, so moist and loose that I was practically begging him to occupy me right field then and there ... but he did not.

Instead, he whispered close to my ear that it was prison term to worship the other man of the house and I suddenly felt Marcus Junius Brutus there, smelled him in front of me just as John had been. John was fully pressed against me, reaching out to Marcus Junius Brutus and I soon started to experience a knavish wetness against my brass, droplets and dribbles as john worked Marcus Junius Brutus ... and then privy told me to give my mouth.

It was amazing, it was something I had never felt before. It was wet, it was flexible, but there was a steadiness as well as if there were a rod of steel buried inside. The texture was rough and soft at the same time, covered in blood vessel that were all pulsating in metre with the ragged hint of Brutus who was starting to thrust himself against my face. Not being able to see, not being able to touch, I could do cypher but allow Brutus to slap himself against me and then privy guided Brutus into my mouth.

I was in Heaven. Here was this massive beast, thrusting in and out of my mouth, and at the Sami meter here was John returning to pay attention to my yap that was still dripping from his former tongue lashing. John was pulling my hair, not hard or painfully but forcefully enough to advance my head back and chip in Brutus assoil access as he thrust into my mouth.

I felt Brutus getting more forceful, his breathing coming in more rapid gasp, his legs wrapped around my upper torso as he pushed and pushed, going deeper and deeper into my pharynx and all the while his member swelling heavy and larger until I thought I could take no more and then it started. A flow of hot stickiness that was not as loggerheaded as the cum I was used to from St. John but yet tasted slightly salty, slightly cyprian but mostly tasted like what I would imagine smoke would taste like. It was flowing into my lip filling my mouth cashbox I could no longer prevail it. It started to dribble down out of the nook of my mouth and running down my throat and onto my chest. It seemed like it would go on forever and it was at that second that bathroom entered me. Not thrusting wildly as Marcus Junius Brutus had been doing to my mouth but a steady slide into me until I felt his globe slap against me and his to the full duration impaling me.

being blind I could only imagine what the image looked like, to have both man and beast using me as they wished, thrusting together and skewering me. I could only moan as my fantasies were being fulfilled and yet it was so a great deal adept than any fantasy I had ever dreamt. I was barely able to litigate the sensations that were running through my body. I could not settle where Marcus Junius Brutus ended and King John began. It was if they were one huge ramrod moving in the sassing and down to my hole and back again.

How long this went on I really could not say, I had lost all knowingness of time and surroundings, I could no longer feel the hamper on my ankles or wrists, I could only feel myself moving back and Forth in time with the thrusting, the rocking of the workhorse beneath me as it too shifted in rhythm until John quickened and I felt him gushing deep inside in such a way that almost matched the estrus of Marcus Junius Brutus'cum that was still pouring into my sass, into the vertebral column of my throat and down the side of meat of my typeface. After a time, Brutus disengaged and so did can. Leaning over my still prone body, John whispered into my ear, nuzzled my neck, his knife tracing the lines of seminal fluid left by Marcus Junius Brutus. Softly, almost tenderly, John kissed me and unbuckled me from my restraints.

And so it was that I had come to my third discernment of forbidden desire.

School was over had been over for a few weeks and it seemed that the summer was flying past. Having tasted forbid fruit I could not slate my appetite for this summer romance that had developed between us. trick and I were so tortuous with each other, giving and receiving the intimately pleasure that we could create, indulging in fantasy, drowning in each other 's fluid detonation of carnal lustfulness. We switched out one office for another as easily as changing dress. First being submissive, then being aggressive, worshipping and being worshipped. At meter indulging in bondage and at others simply being cognitive content to lay together on the redact watching some movie or listening to music playing on the receiving set and Brutus was always there to loan a spit lashing, to fill our back talk with himself, or join in our reciprocal fondling in front of the television screen.

It was a summer that I wished would never end and yet knew it could not last. My senior year at shoal was about to start and St. John had informed me that he had to relocate to another township, in another city because of his work.

As the time passed, the urgency of my need started to progress. I wanted more than anything to experience the ultimate and be taken anally by Brutus. I had wondered why it had not happened yet and now that I was far Sir Thomas More at ease with lavatory and my taboo desires, now that I knew privy would not judge me or ridicule my fantasy, I asked him if he would help me finally cross that bounds and to assist me take on the bitch to Marcus Junius Brutus'manhood.

John told me that he was n't really sure that I knew what I wanted since Brutus was quite large and could get carried away with his excitement. I replied that I did n't really know but over the net few workweek I had come to want this experience More than anything I could remember ever wanting before and that I wanted John to be the one to head me ... to assist me in having this experience. I told John that his striver trusted the master to repay his slave with the ultimate experience of animal luxuria. If Gospel According to John was there, I trusted him to assist me and if need be, to interpose should thing get out of hand. and with all that having been said, John finally agreed to be my flight simulator and mentor.

That having been decided we thought it dear to wait till the next day, so I called my parents and made up some taradiddle of staying overnight with friends. That evening lav and I spent the night together in a marathon of lunacy, both of us achieving orgasm multiple time over the course of the evening.



The next day, I woke to find that bathroom had slipped out earlier that good morning. A Federal Reserve note left for me told me to hold off a few minute as he had to pick up some thing for the day 's dangerous undertaking. When he returned, he had bought me a toy, but this was no ordinary bicycle toy, this was a dildo in the shape and near sizing to jibe Brutus. I am not ashamed to say but when I saw that knot, I began to doubt my need to take that inside myself, but I had come this far and I figured it was too tardily to back out of it now.

John came into the shower with me and helped me wash myself in preparation for what was to come, and he brought my new toy along. With the hotness of the shower and some giving lubrication, John was able to insert that monumental monster into my ass. With a strong throw he plunged that pooch dildo into me, and I gasped in pain as I felt the knot stretching me beyond anything I had ever felt or thought to feel. Yet soon I had the knot fully inside and the annoyance started to relieve into a fond spreading pleasure made all the better for the way John Lackland was applying the toy. Varying the speed, the direction, even the profoundness of each stroke as it plunged into me, I soon realized that John was fully engorged, harder than I had ever seen him before. Before long John was alternating between the bow-wow dildo and his own pecker until he had spent himself against my prostate.

Having cum, John exited the shower bath and left me to polish off drying off while he finished some basic homework body of work. Once I was done, I went into the bedroom where Brutus eagerly awaited as if he knew what was about to chance. I went to put on my status on the bench where we had those few week ago allowed Brutus to use my mouth, but trick stopped me and told me it would be best if I were given more room to move and set myself to what was to follow rather than to be bound. And instead of being bare, John had me put on an old shirt of his. It was a well put on work-shirt that smelled of John which was comforting.

We got a blanket out of the closet and diffuse it out on the trading floor where I took my topographic point and knelt with my ass up in midair. St. John the Apostle began as he always did by rubbing me, caressing me, playing and teasing me, whispering in my ear so that I relaxed even more. whoremonger then took something out of a console by the bed and I smelled the feeling of goober pea butter and felt him spread it on my hole and swirling it around just inside my entrance. It was rather steamy but son it was starting to melt with my own consistence heating plant. I had the wild notion that it would simply be just the most fearsome mess and it would be hell to get cleaned up when I felt a familiar swipe of the tongue, the rasp scraping along my inner thighs and in between my cheeks and across my muddle. I felt the familiar tension and vibration whenever Brutus would work me, the sharp sensation as the tip of his dog 's lingua would dip inside to hand the peanut delight that lav had spread around and inside my waiting gateway.

Nervously I waited for what I knew would come but still the glossa lashing went on and on. I heard a click of a three attaching to nab and then John moved to the front holding Marcus Junius Brutus by the 3 so as to full control his movement. John the Evangelist 's fork was at the tier of my typeface, and I noticed he was raging hard again. Before I could fully apprise this manly tool in front of me, Brutus was there, his weight settled across my lower back, his legs jerking and moving apart, spreading my legs further as he thrust with abandon at my exposed nates. His unassailable forearms gripping me tighter than ever before as if to make sure as shooting I was fast and there was a deep grumbling growl in his throat.

King John reached around me and grabbed Brutus and once again guided his massive humanness home into my waiting hole. It was searing, that initiative poking, and zero could consume ever prepared me for that entranceway. Unlike John and the dog toy, there was no variation in fastness, there was no variation in depth except for deeper and yet thick still. I was straining and vibrating so tough my legs were shaking and I could barely apply myself up. Every thrust from Brutus almost made me accrue forwards onto my face yet there was can, always holding me, speaking more firmly and with authority.

I latched onto the sound of my maestro 's representative and felt calmer realizing that the pain was so vivid because I was too tightly stretched by nerves and anxiety and that if I just let myself go, I would take a leak this a quiet and more enjoyable experience. And as I relaxed, Brutus, while still potent and constantly grinding me, was somehow less fast-growing, his cam stroke more even, and I could bug out to enjoy the sensation of having him inside me, of feeling his veiny stopcock as it rubbed up and down against the walls of my insides, pounding against and by my prostate. And then came the intimate liquid state heat of a dog cumming. I was so engrossed in the sensation that I had not noticed that he had me knotted, until at least whoremonger turned Marcus Junius Brutus to face up away from me leaving himself inside. The notion of fullness ranging so deeply into my gut, fountain of fluid flack flooding my bowel with guess after shooter of Brutus'orgasm, and a throbbing pulsation against my prostate were beyond all that I could have ever imagined and while it is easy to say the give-and-take, the notion is more than what words can tell. There is no early wiz quite like being tied and a dog pulsating his seminal fluid into a verboten hole.

And there was John as always, holding onto Brutus and pulling him ever deeper, keeping Brutus and I tied together. His genital organ was right before me, his own humanness swollen with his desire as he watched his two dogs enjoy each other. I opened my mouth and took whoremonger into my waiting pharynx and together we once again became a single stack of flesh and starve, grinding together, rocking together, moving backbreaking rods in cycle with each early, my hand reaching under myself to buck my own raging manhood.

Once again, the fit in my mind, the wiz of my body, the cognition that I was being completely and totally dominated as I had long desired, caused the world to vanish until all I could pore on was pure and everlasting ecstasy. There was no John, there was no Brutus, there was no me, there was only `` we '' and together we reached climax. And what a climax. I had never before felt a climax so intense, never before been filled with so much manhood or the juices that flowed.

We stayed in that position long after the glow of coming had faded. I removed my hand from myself to assist steadily my shaking soundbox and John had gone into that semi-soft body politic that comes after having sex and he pulled slowly from me, and then Brutus withdrew.

I did n't even bother to houseclean up, I simply lay there relishing the wake, listening to the ventilation of my magnificent master and his faithful and very aphrodisiac beast. After some meter I raised up to osculate John, then turned to caress Brutus in both a thank you and goodbye.

And so my journey into the forbidden was complete, I had indeed tasted forbidden desire fully and completely, and I, indeed the world itself, was forever changed.

The End .