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Superexhibitionisticsexypalidocious

Bored Walk and Park Place

His name was Chris. Christian. Even his name sent blood rushing to my crotch. I can't begin to even count how many times I jerked off after our session in the theatre. Chris had been as close to being naked as you can get in a movie theatre, and his orgasms had been spectacular.

He loved jerking off, and he loved to have someone watching him. I don't know if he had other victims that he chased around town, jerking off for them, but I was glad he'd picked me as one of them. Red hair had never done anything for me. I thought it looked stupid and I was so glad that I didn't have it. Chris changed all that. Red was the best colour there is now.

Still, it's not a really good colour for exhibitionists. It attracts attention. People look at him because of it. Then again, maybe that's an advantage for a sexy exhibitionist. They want people to look at them, and I was a dedicated looker.

He'd let me touch him. Nothing more. Just holding his balls in my hand. That was more than I could ever have dreamt of. And then for him to allow me to lick up his cum. That was icing on a very delicious cake. But he'd promised me more if I followed his rules and passed his tests. I spent many hours after that whacking off and thinking about what the ‘more' might involve. Was I finally going to have the opportunity to actually hold a man's cock in my hand? Was I going to be able to stroke it for him? Perhaps even lick it? The mere thought of giving him a blowjob was enough to send me over the top.

Whether or not Chris knew it, he was a dream come true for me, and he had me under his spell. I would do anything he asked of me and no more than that. I would die if I did anything to ruin what we had together.

I never saw Chris around. I'd stopped looking, as I've said before, because he'd told me I'd never find him, but any time I saw red hair, I always took a second look. Still, Chris was always able to find me, and at the oddest places and times.

I was bored out of my skull that night. I couldn't even concentrate on my assignments and ended up closing the books and turning on my little television set in my room. Nothing caught my interest. I considered going to the campus library and thought better of it. Perhaps a walk in the park would cheer me up.

The park is only a two minute walk from my place. It's usually quiet at night, especially around ten o'clock at night. Occasionally, there might be some swimmers taking an evening dip in the river, but, more often than not, the park was usually deserted. It wasn't that night. There was a small group of young people. Probably college students from the looks of them. Undoubtedly too broke to go out drinking.

I sat on one of the swings and watched them. I was mostly in darkness, but there was a glow from the road bridge lamps nearby and the moon above which cast light over the swimmers. There were three guys and two girls only a pebble's toss away from me. I could see their clothes piled on the beach and they were swimming in their underwear. It was still too early for the skinny dippers. They didn't come out until after the bars closed and they didn't care how close they were to the road. It was more important that they be drunk and naked.

So, I sat there, swinging slowly and gently forward and back with my feet on the ground, watching them. I didn't even hear Chris coming up from behind me. I didn't even know he was there until he was standing beside me saying, "Hi, Steven with a ‘v'." He sat in the swing to my left.

I quickly looked around and behind me. I didn't see anyone else. My attention turned back to Chris. He was sitting there in a T-shirt and a pair of tight blue shorts.

"Shit," I whispered. "You're going to do it right here, aren't you?"

"Sure," he said. "Why not?"

"There's people right there," I whispered harshly.

Chris looked at me and I could see his smile even in the moonlight. "That's what makes it fun."

I watched as he unsnapped his shorts and slid the zipper down. He hooked his thumbs into the waistbands and pushed both the shorts and his underwear to his feet before pulling them off. His cock, already rock-solid, smacked against his stomach. He held out his briefs to me.

"Here," he said. "They're for you. I've been wearing them all day."

I took them from him and, as I rushed them to my face, Chris pulled his shorts back onto his feet and tugged them up to mid thigh. With his arms hooked around the chain links of the swing, Chris grabbed his cock in his left hand and started stroking.

My own cock was hard now. It had begun to stiffen up the moment I saw Chris. And now, with his underwear shoved in my face, it steeled up even more. I held the briefs in place with my left hand as my right hand undid my shorts and pulled down the zipper. I reached into my own underwear and moved my cock into a more comfortable position. I left my hand wrapped around my cock. Then I went back to sniffing and watching.

Chris leaned forward a few times to spit on the head of his cock, spreading it around thoroughly each time. He wasn't the least bit phased by the five people frolicking in the water a few yards away. Then again, I was sitting there sniffing his underwear. Which one of us was the pervert?

The chain restricted the movement of his arm and, after a few minutes, he moved it to the inside of the swing and went to work on his cock again. He was in no rush, as usual. He simply sat there, jerking off and looking at the group of people playing in the water before us.

As he masturbated, and as I watched, my own hand began stroking my cock which was still tucked safely inside my underwear. I wasn't getting the pleasure I needed, though. Before I knew it, I'd pulled my cock out of my briefs and started matching Chris stroke for stroke.

Chris looked over at my face, then down to my crotch. He watched me jerking for a long minute, then looked back up to my face and smiled at me. He didn't say anything, but I saw him wink in the moonlight before he turned his face to the swimmers in the river.

We jerked off together. My eyes were locked on the hand moving up and down that wonderful cock of his. Occasionally, I could see the glint of moonlight sparkling off the pre-cum which gathered at the tip of his cock. Several times, he dipped the index finger of his right hand into the cock juice and held it out to me, letting me lick it from his finger.

We weren't in any rush to cum. We were enjoying the experience too much. At least I was. Had I been thinking about it, I would have been humiliated, knowing that I was whacking off in public with six people around me. At that moment, though, I didn't have much choice. I was too wrapped up in the moment.

Suddenly, Chris said softly in warning, "Steven."

I looked up at him, then in the direction of his gaze. One of the young men was running across the grass toward us. I covered my crotch with my hands, but Chris kept on jerking off as if it were the proper thing to be doing.

"Hey, guys," the youth said. "Either of you got an extra. . ."

He didn't complete his question. He drew up short and stopped when he saw what Chris was doing. Slowly he advanced, his eyes locked on Chris' stroking hand and the proud cock standing out from his body, until he was standing at Chris' feet.

"Holy, fuck," the young man said. He looked quickly over his shoulder to his friends, then back at Chris. He was tall, rather thin, dark-haired, and wore only a pair of brief, dark-coloured underpants.

Chris looked up at him, watching his face as he continued masturbating. "Do we have an extra ‘what'?" he asked calmly.

The young man's gaze remained glued to Chris' stroking hand as his own hand reached to grasp the swelling cock in his briefs. "Um. . ." he said without looking up. "Cigarette."

"Sorry, pal," Chris apologized. "I stroke. I don't smoke."

I don't think the guy heard him. "Holy, fuck," he repeated. Moments later, his hand slid inside his underwear. His cock was hard now and he was stroking it slowly beneath the thin material.

"Can I suck it?" he asked.
"No," Chris replied.

"Can I at least touch it?"

"Sorry."

He stood there, watching, for several minutes before another masculine voice called out from the river.

"Hey, Johnny! What's up, man? They got smokes or what?"

"Um. . . no!" Johnny called back.

"Well, what in hell are you doing over there? Come on back!"

Johnny didn't move.

"Johnny!" the voice called again and I looked up to see the larger of the two remaining men running out of the water and toward us. He, too, was dressed only in his underwear.

Chris didn't stop stroking.

The new guy was big. His arms looked like they could rip my head off with very little effort. He wasn't a muscle-bound brute, but he was very healthy indeed. The light bikini underwear he had on certainly didn't disguise the package he carried between his legs. As he came to a stop beside his friend and saw what was going on, he laughed.

"Shit, I should have known," he said. "Fuck, Johnny. Can't you keep your mind off cocks for ten seconds? Come on, Pal. Leave them to their fun and games."

Johnny didn't move.

A female voice called out.

"What's going on over there, Pete!?"

The big guy turned toward the river. "Oh, we got some guy whackin' his meat over here and Johnny can't get his eyes off him."

"Really?" the girl called back.

"Yeah! Johnny's all horned up and everything! We're not gonna get him back until he dumps a load in his shorts!"

There was more splashing, then the other three people were running toward us as well. Johnny appeared unaware of their arrival and continued rubbing his cock in his shorts. Chris merely enjoyed the attention.

The new guy looked at Chris and said, "I'm surprised Johnny doesn't have that thing in his throat by now."

"He won't let me," Johnny said almost sadly.

"That's disgusting," one of the girls said as she went back to the river. "Coming, Jen?" she called over her shoulder.

"Not yet," the second girl replied. "I want to see for a bit."

I was still covering my cock, watching the scene in front of me. The big guy, Pete, put his arm over his friend's shoulder. "Come on, Johnny," he said softly. "Don't do this to yourself, man. You know how depressed you get."

"I don't care," Johnny replied.

"I've told you before, if you want to try suckin' a dick, you can suck mine."

Johnny looked away from Chris for the first time and looked into his bigger friend's face. "You're too big, Peter," he said. "It scares me." He looked back at Chris again. "Besides, what if I liked it?"

"You think that would change our friendship?" Pete said. "We've known each other too long. So what if you liked it? At least you would know and I wouldn't care."

"I'm going back," the other girl said. "You boys have fun."

"I'll join you," the other guy said. "My cup of tea's on a different table."

Pete's attention was still on his friend. I didn't expect the kindness and compassion from him that I was witnessing. "Johnny, please," he said. "Don't do this."

Still, Johnny didn't move.

"Okay," Pete said softly. "If you need me, call me." He took his arm from his friend's shoulder. He started to walk away.

"Peter?" Johnny said softly. "Please don't go."

The big guy returned and put his arm over Johnny's shoulder once more. Johnny moved his eyes from Chris' crotch to the bulging crotch of his friend. His head tilted up after a short time so he could look into his friend's face.

"I need to know, Peter," he said.

"Sure, Pal," Pete said. "Wanna go back to my place?"

"I might chicken out if I wait to long. I need to at least try it right now."

Pete glanced around into the darkness. "Where do you wanna go?"

"I don't care," Johnny said as he reached out his left hand and cupped the bulging underwear. "Right here. I don't give." He glanced at his other friends chatting beside the river. "Besides, they all think I'm a fag. I might as well prove it to them."

My hand had begun stroking myself again - discretely, of course. Chris hadn't stopped or even slowed down.

Johnny took a deep breath, looked back at Pete, then down at the hand still cupped around his friend's growing crotch. With one final glace at Pete's face, Johnny whispered, "Please don't hate me, Peter."

Johnny dropped to his knees right in front of us, his hand moving away from Pete's crotch to his hip. Pete's cock was almost fully-hard now, still aimed down toward his balls and arching the material in a rather intimidating bulge. His cock wasn't particularly long, but it was incredibly thick. Johnny removed his right hand from his underwear and, with his other hand, grasped the waistband of Pete's briefs and tugged it down and under Pete's big nuts. The cock, once released, quickly flooded and stood out straight from his body before rising into the air and coming to rest almost against his stomach.

I could understand Johnny's reservations. Pete's cock was big. He was uncut, too. His foreskin still covered most of the head. Johnny took the cock in his hand and tilted it toward him, tentatively and carefully stroking it up and down. He looked at the cock for a long time before looking up at Pete's face.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted.

"Whatever you can do, Johnny," Pete said quietly. "Just watch the teeth, okay?" Pete didn't seem the least bit disturbed that he was about to get a blowjob in a public park with five other people around him.

Johnny's attention returned to the huge cock in front of him. He continued stroking gently. The index finger of his left hand traced the foreskin around the top of the head and a moan came from Pete's throat.

"Pull the skin back, Johnny," he said. "It won't hurt, and I'm clean. I promise."

I'd never seen an uncircumcised cock before and was totally fascinated by what I was seeing. I wasn't masturbating discretely anymore.

Johnny pulled the foreskin back carefully, revealing the entire head. Pete's cock and cockhead were thick, but they were flattened on the top and bottom, more oval-shaped than round. This didn't seem to deter Johnny, though. He'd made up his mind and the fact that he was about to suck his friend's cock with Chris and myself looking on didn't phase him a bit. In fact, I doubt if he even remembered we were there.

His head moved forward and his mouth opened. His lips touched flesh and Pete's hands moved to Johnny's shoulders.

"Oh, yeah, Johnny," Pete whispered into the darkness. "That feels good."

What Johnny lacked in ability, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. He was pretty-much limited to the head, but that seemed to be enough for Pete. Still, Johnny managed to use his tongue and lips to best advantage, travelling up and down the shaft when his mouth got tired on the head. His hand never left the shaft.

Johnny returned to the head, working as much of it as he could into his mouth while his left hand moved to hold Pete's balls. Beyond them, the other three people approached quietly and stood there, watching their big friend getting sucked off by their smaller, thinner friend.

Beside me, I could hear the pre-lube popping and snapping in the slit of Chris' cock, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the spectacle in front of me. I'd never seen a blowjob before, and I wasn't about to miss my chance this time. My hand continued to jerk myself. If anyone didn't like it, they could go fuck themselves. I wasn't stopping for anyone.

I heard the scraping of metal on metal above me and the rattle of chain beside me, but I didn't pay attention to it until I felt Chris' hand on my left arm. He lifted my hand out of my lap and brought it toward him, palm up, until it was right under his balls. I knew what he wanted to do, and how much I could do. I gently closed my fingers around his dangling orbs.

The big surprise was to follow.

With his balls in my hand, Chris reached back to me again and wrapped his fingers around my cock. He took over the stroking, pushing my hand away. Never in my life had I felt anything so amazingly wonderful.

My orgasm began almost immediately. Only a few strokes later, I was cumming, my semen shooting out of me with a power I couldn't have imagined. I think I heard a female voice say "Ewww! Gross!", but I didn't give a shit. Nor did I give a shit where my cum went. It just felt too damned good shooting out of my cock.

Chris might have been left-handed, but his right hand was doing some incredible things to my cock. I must have become carried away, though. I felt Chris' fingers prying my own fingers loose from his balls. He wasn't taking them away. He was simply easing my grip.

My orgasm continued to its completion and still Chris jerked my cock. Ahead of me, I could hear Pete moaning and groaning now, and, despite having just climaxed, I could feel another orgasm quickly building.

"Johnny," Pete said urgently, "I'm gonna shoot, Pal!"

I opened my eyes in time to see Johnny pull his mouth away from Pete's cock and begin to stroke it instead. Each time his hand moved up the shaft, the foreskin bundled over the head, then uncovered it again on the downstroke.

Even in the dim light, I could see Pete's cockhead swelling and beginning to pulsate. The first spurt of cum shot straight out and hit Johnny squarely in the face. His head jerked back, but he didn't release his grasp on his friends cock. More cum shout out, splashing against Johnny, who made no attempt to move out of the way.

I could feel my orgasm building again. Chris' hand was jerking madly, bringing me to my second climax in only a matter of minutes. As Pete finished cumming and his cock began to soften, I blew my nuts again. Cum poured out of me and Chris' fingers gripped me. From his own moans, I knew that he was enjoying his own orgasm.

I forced my eyes open and turned my head. Chris' cock was aimed right at the two friends in front of him. Long ropes of his cum flew out of his cock, splattering against both bodies there. Whether or not they noticed or cared, I don't know. But they didn't move. Chris is a powerful and abundant cummer. His jizz flew in strings, and each one hit their targets. I think he actually gained intensity knowing that he was creaming two total strangers.

Johnny, meanwhile, had taken Pete's softening cock into his mouth, cleaning it and enjoying it now that he could fit it between his lips. There was little doubt in my mind that Johnny would be servicing his friend for a long time to come.

My second orgasm came to an end, and Chris' climax subsided. The girls had returned to the river. The third guy remained. It may not have been his cup of tea, but his dick was out of his shorts. As Johnny continued sucking on Pete's soft cock, the third guy started creaming him from the other side.

He was a loud cummer and his voice echoed through the park, bouncing off the trees and back to our ears. Someone out on the street shouted, "He scores!"

Pete pulled his cock from Johnny's mouth, lifted him to his feet, and grabbed his cock in his large hand. In a matter of moments, Johnny had his own well-deserved orgasm, shooting his jism on the sand of the play area.

I admired Pete for that. It take a big man to help out a friend in such a way in front of friends and strangers. He didn't hold Johnny's cock any longer than necessary, though, and released it as soon as Johnny stopped shooting, but he had done it.

When everything was tucked back into place, Pete put his hand on Johnny's shoulder again. "Do you have your answer?"

Johnny nodded.

Pete mussed Johnny's hair. "Come on, Pal. Let's get cleaned off."

His hand was still on Johnny's shoulder as the three friends walked away toward the river.

I became aware that Chris' hand was no-longer on my cock. When I looked at him, he wasn't there. The swing was empty.

To Be Continued
 
Wow! Thanks Neil. You know what I mean! ;)
 
The Bridge on the River Quiet

Just down river from where I live, a few blocks away, a long, blue, metal footbridge spans the river. Beyond the bridge, a stone's throw away, is a dam. It's a nice place to go if you want to get away from the city noise, even though you're surrounded by it. At night, you can walk to the centre of the bridge and be alone in a city of tens of thousands. Except for the occasional passer- by, you're all alone with the river and the sounds of the water rushing over the dam.

The bridge is metal, but the walkway is made of wood. It echoes nicely when you cross it and you can feel the bridge moving beneath you. I like going there, especially at night when I have trouble sleeping. It calms me. Takes my mind off my troubles and worries.

I don't know how Chris found me there that night. I didn't ask. I often walked down there at night, though, so I suspect he just knew. I took my favourite spot between two of the tall lamps which lit the bridge with a soft, dull glow. I always faced upriver with the sounds of the water flowing over the dam behind me.

I felt the bridge shaking slightly as it always did when someone was walking on it. I wasn't alarmed. People often used the bridge to get to the other half of the city on the other side. I didn't even look up to see who was approaching until he stopped and leaned against the bridge rail beside me.

"Hi, Steven with a ‘v'," he said as he looked out over the dark river.

"Hi, Christian," I replied.

He looked at me for the first time. "I don't like that name," he said. "Could you call me ‘Chris', please?"

"Okay," I replied.

"Do you prefer ‘Steven' or ‘Steve'?"

"I hate ‘Steve'."

"Okay, Steven," he said as he turned toward the river again.

Chris looked at the river. I looked at Chris. We stood there in silence for a long time before he spoke again. He didn't look at me. He simply spoke to me.

"You turn me on," he said.

"Me?" I said, surprised.

I could see his lips curl up into a smile even in the dim light. "Yes, you," he said. "I've got a hardon right now like you wouldn't believe."

I glanced down at his crotch, but I couldn't see anything in the darkness.

He chuckled and I could see his body shaking. "You're looking, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said.

Another chuckle. "That's what turns me on. You like looking at me and I like you looking at me."

"Shit," I whispered. I continued looking at Chris and he continued looking out over the river. "I need to ask you a question."

Chris merely nodded slightly.

"Do you colour your hair red?"

He shook his head and smiled again. "No. This is the real colour. I only tint my moustache with stage make-up when I wear my wigs."

Whoa! Wigs?

Before I could respond, he continued. "I sat at your table at the library for three weeks before I jerked off for you that first time. You didn't even know it was me."

"I didn't even see you until you came in with your red hair."

"I made sure you didn't."

"So, what were you doing, sitting there for three weeks?"

"I wanted to be certain."

"About what?" I asked.

He looked at me then. "I wanted to be certain you turned me on, and to be certain that I would turn you on, too."

"How did you know?"

"I just knew," he replied. "Leave it at that." He looked back out over the river once more. More silence followed before he said, "You can put your hand in my back pocket if you want."

"I do," I said in a hushed whisper. "How far? What do you want me to do?"

"As far as you want. Just keep your hand flat, but don't do anything."

I looked at his ass. That I could see plainly enough. It was a nice ass, and I was dying to touch it, even if it was through the pocket in his jeans. The fingers of my left hand moved to the opening of the pocket, carefully keeping my palm flat. My hand slid inside until it hit the bottom. The heat from his ass warmed my hand and I moaned softly.

"Yeah," Chris said. "I like that. Keep your hand there."

I couldn't think of anything that would make me want to take it away. I'd had his balls in my hand, and now I had his ass in my hand. Bit by bit, I was touching a man's body. His was so solid, yet so soft and so round. My cock was throbbing and began to pinch against the waistband of my underwear. I shoved my hand beneath the waistband of my pants and shifted my cock so it was more comfortable for me.

Unfortunately, the angle of my hand in his pocket was uncomfortable and my wrist was bent, almost painfully. I tolerated it as long as I could and, regretfully, began to slide my hand out.

"You can leave it there," Chris said. "I like your hand there."

"I'm sorry, Chris. I can't. It hurts my wrist."

"Move closer if you want."

I pushed my hand back in and moved forward as far as I dared go. I was afraid to get too close to him that he would move away.

"Better?" he asked.

"A lot better," I said.

"You can move closer if you want."

"I'd be right up against you if I do."

He turned to look at me. Our faces were barely a hand-span apart. "That's okay, Steven," he said. "I'd like to feel how much I turn you on."

I remained frozen in place for several long, empty moments. I couldn't move. "I won't push you away, Steven," he said softly. "As long as you just press up against me, I won't push you away."

It took me several more long moments before I could will my feet to move. I took a tiny step forward and my chest touched his shoulder and I stopped again.

"All the way, Steven."

Again, I edged forward, my chest pressing against his side, and then my cock pushed against his right hip. My eyes closed and a long groan escaped my throat. I could feel his breath on my face and I breathed it in. It was sweet and dreamy and it made my cock swell against his hip.

My eyes opened and Chris was looking into them. He had a smile on his face. "I made the right choice," he said and turned back to the river once again.

I was feeling more of Chris than I've ever felt of any man - at least in a sexual nature. My heart was pounding in my chest and my breath was rapid and short. I was clenching my jaws just to keep from cumming right there and then. I didn't want this moment to end.

But it did. I hadn't heard the footsteps on the wooden planks. I hadn't felt the gentle quivering of the bridge. It was the small dog barking which caught my attention. I pulled away from Chris and yanked my hand out of his pocket as my head whipped around. An older man, perhaps thirty or so, was striding toward us, a small white dog tugging on the leash.

"Put your hand back, Steven," Chris said.

"I. . . No, not. . ." I stammered as I turned my head back to him. He was still looking at the river.

"Put it back."

"Chris, please."

He turned his head to look at me. "If you love me, Steven, you'll put your hand back in my pocket."

Love? What was this? If I love him? Who said anything about love? Chris had stirred up a lot of emotions in me, but I didn't think love was one of them. I quickly searched my mind looking for any indications of it and I found them. Maybe I didn't love him yet, but I was well on my way.

"Put it back, Steven."

I heard the footsteps drawing closer. My hand went behind him again and slid into his pocket.

Another smile spread across his face. "Now," he whispered, "kiss me."

"Chris, please," I begged. "Not now. Not here."

His smile disappeared. "It's now or never, Steven. You'll never get another chance. I won't make this offer again."

"Chris," I protested weakly.

Chris held my gaze. "Kiss me, Steven," he said softly.

Everything told me not to, but I did it anyway. I leaned into him, tilting my head to one side, until our lips met. The kiss was gentle and I wasn't very good at it, never having kissed a man before, and there was more anxiety than passion in it. But it was the most exciting moment of my life. My body moved against his once more and I felt suddenly comfortable there. I could feel Chris' moan vibrating his lips.

"Aw, fuck! What is this shit?" the man said as he stopped beside us. His dog was sniffing our ankles. "Do you guys have to do that in public? You're giving me nightmares."

Chris slowly withdrew his lips from mine and turned his body to face me. His head turned to look a the man, then down to the dog at our feet before returning to the man's face. "Kindly remove your dog from my vicinity, please," Chris he said.

"I should sic him on you," the man said with contempt in his voice."

"Then I hope your dog can swim after I break his fuckin' neck," Chris said calmly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm not finished kissing my boyfriend yet." He turned back toward me and pressed his lips against mine again.

"Fuck this shit," the man said as he began to walk on. "Come on, dickhead!" I could still feel the dog at my feet. "Come on!" There was the sound of a yank on the lead, then a loud yip, and they were gone.

Chris didn't stop kissing me. He turned toward me. His arms came around my waist and tugged me forward. I was pressed against his chest. My heart pounded against his. I could feel his cock pressing into my stomach.

Without thinking, my right hand moved around him and slid into his other jeans pocket. I suddenly realized that I might have broken all the rules and pulled my hand back out. Chris yanked his head away. "No, Steven," he said. "It's okay now."

My hand slid back into his pocket as his lips latched onto mine again. His pelvis soon began humping itself against me and mine soon joined in. I was too far gone to worry about rules and tests now.

Our kiss became more urgent and passionate as we figured out how to do it. Our lips crushed each other and our teeth clicked. Our tongues danced with each other as the humping continued.

I started moaning and Chris began groaning. I could feel the stirrings in my balls and I knew I was moments away from climax. My hands grasped at Chris' ass, pulling his crotch into me as I pushed mine against his. My moans turned into groans and I twisted my mouth away from Chris.

"Aw, fuck, Chris. I'm going to cum!"

"So am I," he replied as he clutched me even harder. "When you shoot, so will I. I'll wait for you."

And he did. Somehow, he did. My fingers dug into his ass. "Oh, fuck, Chris. I'm cumming. I'm cumming, Chris! Oh, fuck! I'm cumming!"

Never have I felt an orgasm so mind-numbingly intense. I may have screamed. I'm not certain. All I know is my cum pumped out in amounts and power like never before, and Chris was pumping right along with me. His own orgasm fuelled the intensity of mine and I began to go weak and sag against him. My mind swirled and everything disappeared around me in a misty fog. I couldn't stand up anymore.

Chris grabbed me harder as our orgasms finally slowed and I began to sink to the wooden planks beneath me. My hands slid limply from his back pockets. Chris held onto me, lowering me gently to the bridge, the remnants of his orgasm forgotten. "Oh, shit, Steven," he said anxiously. "Don't do this, Steven!" He leaned me against the wire fencing. His hand came to my chest over my heart, and then his ear was pressed against me there. I knew it was happening. I could hear it and feel it over my heaving breaths, but I couldn't respond to it.

He sat up and began patting my cheek with his fingers. "Shit, Steven, look at me! Damn it! Look at me!"

My eyes cracked open. I was sitting on the deck of the bridge, propped against the railing. Chris was sitting cross-legged beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other against my cheek. A smile split my lips.

A wave of relieve swept over Chris' face.

"I think I love you, Chris," I said softly.

He sat back, taking his hands away from me. "It's about time," he said into the night.

To Be Continued
 
Damn! You've done it to me again, Neil! ;)
 
A new chapter is on its way, but I had to make a post so this story wouldn't drop into the archives. My apologies for the 'bump', but it was necessary.
 
Wonderful story as always, Neil.
I hope we'll see another chapter soon.
 
My god. You can sure write, Neil. It never fails to trip my trigger either. Damn, you really should look into publishing them. Simply put, Wow!

Zac
 
Sorry for the delay. It has been a very rough few weeks for me. I hope this makes up for the wait.

(*8*)
Neil


* * * * *

Down by the Riverside

I still sat on the footbridge. Chris still sat cross-legged in front of me, still leaning back on his hands. He was smiling at me.

"So, you think you love me," he said. "When will you know for sure?"

"As soon as I know you won't punch my face in for saying it."

Chris' smile turned into a chuckle which bounced across the river below us. "I'll never hit you, Steven," he said. He sounded very sincere. "Never."

I paused, looking deeply into his eyes for anything which might tell me he was tricking me. I could find nothing. "Then I love you, Chris."

He nodded and his smile returned. "That's good, ‘cuz I love you, too," he said. "I always have." His hand returned to my cheek for a moment before sliding around to the back of my head. He leaned forward and pulled my head toward him. Our lips met in a kiss again.

It was a gentle kiss this time and it surprised me how good it felt. It wasn't sexy. It wasn't erotic. It just felt good. The kiss could have lasted longer - at least I wish it had - but Chris sat back again and smiled at me. "Can you walk?"

"Oh, I think so," I said, grinning stupidly.

Chris rose easily to his feet, reached out his hand for mine, and took it when I extended my hand out to him. He pulled me to my feet. "Come on," he said.

We walked hand-in-hand across the bridge away from the city lights. We turned left and walked along the river bank. There were no lights there - only the glow from the city across the river. Somewhere to our right was a path I had walked before. I knew where it went. We talked quietly as we walked.

"What was all that about with the wigs and stuff?" I asked. "Why did you disguise yourself like that?"

"You have to ask?" he chuckled. "Look at me? It's tough to be inconspicuous when your hair is as red as mine." He paused a moment or two before continuing. "The first time I saw you was at the food court in the mall. I sat three tables away from you so I could see you, but you were too busy reading David Copperfield to even notice me.

"After that, you bought a blue shirt that I've never seen you wear, and you took the university bus out to the campus. I sat across the aisle from you on the bus and followed you into the library. If it hadn't been for David Copperfield, I'm sure you would have seen me."

Chris squeezed my hand. "You sat at your spot at your table and I stood in the stacks where I could see you. I've always been gay, but I've never done anything with a guy. I've always been too afraid to. That's why I jerk off all the time."

"Out in public where people can see you?" I could feel myself getting another hardon as it rubbed against the cum-soaked underwear. I reached down in the dark and I could feel the moistness in jeans. My cum was starting to soak through.

Chris laughed at my question. "Yeah, well, it's fun. I've been doing it for years. Remember the usher in the theatre? He was the first to see me. I was in the theatre watching some movie with Chris O'Donnell. I've always liked him. I got a hardon watching him and there wasn't anyone around me, so I took out my dick and started whacking away. I'd been at it about ten minutes when I felt something bump my shoulder. I turned around and the usher was sitting behind me, leaning against my seat and looking over my shoulder. I panicked and tried to hide, but he said it was okay as long as he could watch. If I didn't let him, he said he'd call the police."

Chris shoved his free hand down the front of his pants and rearranged his cock. Apparently he was getting turned on as well. I, too, adjusted my cock.

"I was scared to death," Chris continued, " and didn't think I'd be able to do it, but Calvin - he's the usher - asked if I liked Chris O'Donnell and when I told him ‘yes', he started whispering to me and telling me all the sexy things about Chris. He talked about his ass and his chest and he told me when to watch so I could see his cock in his jeans. Stuff like that. It made me horny as hell and I discovered I liked having Cal watching me. I shot my load within five minutes. Cal had to cover my mouth with his hand so people wouldn't hear me.

"I jerked off three more times during the movie and Cal watched me for two of them. Before I left, he said I could do it anytime I wanted. He wouldn't tell anyone. After that, it became a game for me. I started looking for places where people might see me, but it was only guys catching me doing it that turned me on. Before I knew it, I wasn't jerking off at home anymore locked inside my bedroom. It wasn't any fun if there wasn't someone who could see me."

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out through my nose. "Okay," I said, "but that still doesn't explain the wigs and stuff."

Chris laughed again. "It's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"You were a challenge. If you hadn't been so engrossed in that book at the food court, you would have seen me stroking my cock through my jeans. If you'd turned around when you were looking through the shirts, you would have seen me whacking off beside the Levis. I was rubbing myself again on the bus right beside you, and when you were sitting at the table in the library, I stood in the stacks watching you. That's where I finally dumped a load."

"Right there in the stacks?"

"All over the carpet" Even in the dim light, I could see his smirk. "The next day, I started following you so I could learn your schedules and hangouts. That's why I used the wigs and makeup to cover my moustache. Even if you weren't looking, it wouldn't have taken you long to start getting suspicious of the guy with the red hair following you everywhere. Two weeks later, I jerked off at your table. I started liking you when you warned me that someone was coming. After that, I knew I could jerk off with you and you'd make sure I didn't get into real trouble."

"What if I had got up and walked away?"

Chris shrugged. "You didn't. Anyway, I followed you after that because I liked you. I liked looking at you and I liked jerking off while I looked at you."

"You mean there have been other times that I don't know about?"

"Lots of them," he said. "But it was most fun when you were there beside me. I really started to like you, and then I started to fall in love with you. I was still scared to death, though."

We stopped walking and Chris turned me to face him. He took my other hand in his as well.

"No-one else has ever touched me before," he said. "Some have tried, but I wouldn't let them."

"So, that's why you put me through those tests?"

He nodded. "I was so scared, Steven," Chris said softly. "I wanted you to touch me, and I wanted to touch you, but I was terrified. I had to make sure I could trust you."

"Do you trust me now?" I asked.

Chris squeezed my hands tightly and smiled. "With my life. I love you, Steven. You can touch me anywhere you want, anytime you want. You can do whatever you want to me now. I won't stop you. I'm not afraid anymore."

I decided to put those statements to the test and do something I had always dreamt of doing. With my eyes locked on his, I pulled my hands from Chris' grasp and moved them to his crotch. One hand latched onto his hard cock and the other cupped the balls beneath. Chris moved his hand toward my crotch. "No," I said. "It's your turn not to touch me."

Chris just smiled at me and relaxed. My hands moved to the waist of his pants. My fingers fumbled with the clasp and, when it was undone, my fingers grabbed onto the zipper tab and pulled it down. Chris wasn't wearing any underwear and his cock pushed its way out of the opening and fell against my stomach. I looked down at it, pale even in the dim lights from across the river. The heady smell of semen wafted its way up to my nostrils, but I found it exciting and enticing. The head of his cock was moist.

I grabbed it in my hand and slowly stroked it as I looked back into Chris' eyes. As my left hand moved down to Chris' balls, my right hand began jerking him off. I had stroked him only a few times when Chris said, "That's so good, Steven." His eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly.

I stared into Chris' face, watching it as I stroked his cock. I could see the pleasure I was giving him and I knew that this is what I wanted to do. I had no fear anymore either. There were many things I wanted to do with Chris, but I could do only one at a time and, at that moment, there was only one thing I wanted to happen.

Chris opened his eyes and looked at me. "Steven," he said, "you're going to make me cum."

"I know," I said.

His arms came to my shoulders for balance. "As good as it has always felt when I was doing it myself and you were with me, this is a hundred times better."

"Then let's go for a thousand times."

Chris was a master at masturbation, but, after all those years of solitary pleasure, I was no slouch in that department myself. I put all my talents to work and did to Chris what I would do to myself, except backwards. His clutch on my shoulders strengthened and his eyes began glaze over.

"Oh, God, Steven," he said harshly, "I'm going to cum."

His eyes closed and his head fell back again as his mouth opened. A long, strangled moan sounded and I could feel his cock beginning to swell and pulsate. Then with a single grunt of pleasure, his cock exploded. His cum splattered against me, soaking into my shirt and my jeans. Shot after shot of semen blasted against me and the sweet smell of it filled the air around us. I could feel the cum hitting me, but I didn't move out of the way. This was what I wanted.

Chris continued to groan as his orgasm began to slow. I moved my hand to the head of his cock so I could catch the last few, weaker spurts in my palm. I didn't want to waste a single drop of it on the grass.

I listened to Chris' laboured breathing as he entered the afterglow of his orgasm and felt his cock beginning to go limp once more. Slowly, his grip on my shoulders began to relax and his head tilted forward and his eyes opened. His lips spread into a broad grin. As he watched me, I removed my hand from his cock, spread my fingers, and raised my hand to my face. I licked his sweet cream from my palm as he watched. When I could taste no more of his nectar, I wiped my hand on my shirt, leaned forward, and kissed Chris.

I carefully tucked Chris back into his slacks and did them up for him as he looked down at my cum-splattered shirt. "Here," he said, "let me clean you up."

As his hand started to raise upward, I stopped him. "No. I'm not ashamed of it. I want it to stay there."

Chris walked me home. We talked about us for the most part. "Are you still going to put on your little shows for me?" I asked.

"If you want me to," he replied.

"I think it's hot, but you don't have to if you don't feel comfortable with it."

Chris stopped me and turned me to face him. "I think it's hot, too," he said. "That's why I do it. I guess that makes me something of an exhibitionist, but I don't really care. I love jerking off and I love it even more when I know people can see me. If you don't want me to stop, I won't."

"Just don't get yourself in trouble over it."

"Steven, Sweetie," he said with a small smile, "I've been doing it ever since Cal caught me in the theatre. I'm horny, but I'm not stupid. I don't make people watch me, but if they see me and stick around, that's okay. If they don't like it, they walk away." His smile broadened. "Don't worry about me. I know how to stay out of trouble."

My smile joined his.

"Promise me something, though," he said to me. "If you ever feel uncomfortable about it, or want me to stop, I will."

"I'd never ask you to stop."

"I don't mean ‘entirely'," he clarified. "I mean if I'm doing it somewhere that makes you uncomfortable or you think is too risky, I'll stop."

"Oh. I understand. Okay, I promise."

His palm came to my cheek and rested there for a long moment as he stared into my eyes. "I love you, Steven."

"I love you, too, Chris."

* * * * *

You Can Cum Anytime You Want

Who knew that there really was an Alice's Restaurant? I didn't, at least not until Chris took me there on our first date.

It wasn't exactly what I expected. Instead of the diner I was anticipating with the counter and the small tables and waitresses in blue skirts and dirty aprons and Mel standing behind the service shelf barking out orders, I discovered it to be an actual restaurant with linen-covered tables and candles and flowers in vases and waiters in tight, black slacks and white shirts with little, black bow ties and towels over their arms.

"Oh, good," Chris said with a sly wink. "Michael's here." He nodded toward a tall, handsome young man with short, jet-black hair. "It's your lucky night."

We were approached by a young, blonde-haired lady with a pasted-on smile. "Table for two?" she asked.

"Oh, good," I thought to myself. "She can count."

"Yes," Chris replied. "Can we sit over there?" He pointed to what I suspected was Michael's section.

"Of course," the girl said as she grabbed up two menus. "Please, follow me."

She led us to a table near the back wall, but Chris pointed to another nearby. "I prefer this one," he said.

"Of course."

We walked to the table and Chris slid into the chair against the wall. I was about to sit across from him, but he indicated the chair to his right and said, "The view is better from here." I took the chair to his right as the girl set the menus in front of us and returned to her post. I immediately heard the sound of a zipper being undone.

"Shit," I whispered, "you don't waste any time, do you?" From where I was sitting, I could see Chris opening his tan slacks and pulling his cock into the open.

"Free dessert if I get a hardon before Michael gets here," Chris winked as he started working his cock into an erection. "I've never had to pay for dessert yet."

Sure enough, Chris was smiling and casually stroking away at his hardon by the time Michael arrived. He didn't stop as Michael stood behind the chair across from me.

Michael smiled back at Chris. "Service with a smile," he said in a deep, manly voice. "Just the way I like it. I see you found a friend who enjoys the sideshow as much as I do."

"He's more than a friend," Chris said, still smiling and still jerking. "This is our first date."

"Well," Michael said happily, "this calls for a celebration. How about a bottle of the house wine? My treat."

Chris looked at me and I nodded. "Sure," he said to our waiter.

Michael looked down at Chris's stroking hand once more and his tongue poked out slightly and licked along his lips. He took a quick glance around the restaurant and, with what looked like a well-practiced and not unexpected move, extended his index finger, reached quickly into Chris' lap, scooped up the precum gathered at the tip of his cock, and raised his finger to his mouth where he licked the liquid from his fingertip.

He calmly took our orders, then, with another glance around, scooped one more pool of precum from Chris' cock and lapped it up. "You'll call me when you're ready?" he asked.

"Whenever you are," Chris replied.

"How about when I bring dessert?"

"Sure," Chris said.

"Better yet," Michael said suddenly as he reached into his pocket, "how about right now and another one when I bring dessert?" He quickly and casually dropped a pair of black briefs in Chris' lap.

Chris stroked furiously with his left hand as his right hand arranged the briefs over his stomach. He placed his hand flat against his stomach, holding the briefs in place with his little finger. A dozen strokes later, he looked at Michael. "Count it down," he said.

This had obviously happened before. Michael began the countdown. "Five. . . Four. . . Three. . . Two. . . One. . . Blast off."

Chris did. At the final words, his hand froze in place and his cock blasted out stream after stream of cum, all over the black briefs. His cum was starkly white against the black material. I was too busy watching his orgasm to notice if anyone was watching us.

Chris was enjoying every moment as I counted the spurts. Six. Seven. Eight. The briefs were coated in his cream as the final dregs gathered at the tip and were squeezed out by Chris' adept fingers.

As he gradually calmed down, Chris folded the briefs in half, trapping his cum inside, and discretely handed them back to Michael, who quickly tucked them into his pocket once more.

"You want the next load on the tablecloth as usual?" Chris asked.

"Maybe under the table this time," Michael said with a smirk. "I like the way it drips down."

"You got it."

Michael left to get our wine and dinner. Chris didn't bother zipping up.

"Holy, shit," I said in an astounded voice. "How many fans do you have?"

"Enough," he replied. "You know Townsend's on Front Street?"

"I know it," I said. "I've never been in there."

"I go there every Monday night at seven o'clock. Come with me next time."

"Why?"

Chris just winked at me and smiled. "You'll see," he said.

Michael returned a few minutes later with our bottle of wine, opened it, and poured out two glasses for us. He looked at Chris and winked. "Delicious," he said, then left us to get our dinners.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Remember what you did with my underwear in the theatre?"

I leaned toward Chris and whispered to him. "You mean he took it back there and licked it up?"

Chris nodded. "That's why I was a bit surprised to hear him want me to waste it on the table."

Michael served us our dinners and we sipped our wine and ate, chatting as we did so. Chris ate with his left hand and kept himself hard with his right hand. When he was finished eating, he leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and began some serious stroking, getting himself worked up for his second orgasm of the night. The lube started popping and snapping in his piss slit.

Chris was well under way by the time Michael returned to clear our table.

"Excellent," he said quietly as he gathered the dishes. "I love it when I can hear you."

Michael finished piling the dishes on the tray. "I'll be right back with your dessert."

"Yours will be ready as well," Chris grinned.

Michael looked at me. "He's quite the tease, isn't he?"

"He certainly keeps life exciting," I replied.

Michael left. Chris stroked. I waited. Chris looked at me. "You'd better sit back a bit," he said in a whisper. "I don't know where this one is going to go."

I slid my chair back until the tablecloth was dangling before my knees. As Michael returned and set out our desserts, Chris let out a soft moan and closed his eyes until only a sliver of white showed through. I knew he was cumming from the flexings of his biceps and his heaving chest. Once more, the scent of his cream surrounded us and the slap slap slap of his hand on his cock sounded lightly. Michael moaned louder than Chris did, pressing his crotch into the back of the chair in front of him.

"Beautiful," Michael whispered. "Just beautiful."

A broad smile spread across Chris' face and his eyes opened slowly. I glanced around the restaurant. None of the other diners appeared to have noticed a thing although one other waiter was looking our way and shaking his head slightly. Chris noticed my gaze and followed it.

"Oh, don't worry about that creep," Chris said. "He's just jealous because I never sit in his section."

"Chris knows an appreciative audience when he sees it," Michael said.

All I could do was to shake my head as I carefully slid my chair forward so I could eat my pie. One thing was certain, though. My life had become a lot more exciting since I met Chris. The cock throbbing in my pants was proof of that.

To Be Continued
 
Damn Neil! I thought you'd forgotten this one! Don't worry, the monitor's fine! (lol)
 
Neil,

You did it again. The new installments definitely make up for the long wait. The story just gets better and better. What do you do to write like this? I want to know the secret!

Fred.
 
^^ I don't have a secret. I get the idea ('bridge', 'restaurant', etc.), sit down at the keyboard, put my fingers on the keys, and start typing. I have very little control over what happens

In other words, I knew they were going to the restaurant for their first date. After that. . .

I rarely create characters. They simply appear. If I like them, I keep them. If I don't like them, you never see them again.
 
I missed this story. Love it too! Thank you for another great story.
 
I just found this story today. Wow! I love it. It's as good as Ted and Jason. The only problem is trying to keep up with Chris, hehehehehe. Please keep the story going, it is so hot.

Another Chris

(I am so happy! Thanks!)
 
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