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Justin by Callan Smith

It’s summer 2006 and I’m coming to the end of a three-month sabbatical over here. I’ve been staying at the house of a University colleague of mine in Virginia Beach. She let me have the run of the place while she was holidaying in Europe. This provided me with a perfect opportunity to finish the paper I was writing, get some sun and relax.

When I arrived I’d just been through a rather hairy divorce and needed all the peace and quiet I could get. Sassy told me to make myself at home and assured me no one would bother me except maybe her teenage brother. She said he was on a student grant in New York and therefore virtually penniless so was hardly likely to turn up without asking her for a handout first. In fact she hadn’t seen him since Christmas.

I was more than happy to be alone. My only responsibility was to take Sassy’s dog Truffles for a walk twice a day. As you can imagine from the name, he’s one of those mutts you can tuck under your arm when you go shopping. Sassy says he’s a Japanese temple dog but he looks like a common and garden peke to me. He’s a bit finicky about his food but on the whole doesn’t give me any trouble. In fact after six weeks we’re almost inseparable. Both of us leading a dog’s life so to speak.

One Sunday, I was working late on my thesis when I heard a key turn in the lock. Truffles barked, or rather yapped, and then the door opened and I was confronted by a callow youth carrying a small suitcase. From the expression on my face, it must have been obvious I was not pleased to see him. Truffles, on the other hand, was overjoyed. My unexpected guest picked the little dog up and was immediately given a face wash.

“Hi there,” he said to me in a nonchalant southern drawl. “I’m Justin.”

I introduced myself to him and said that I was renting the place for the summer and hadn’t been expecting visitors. I was rather angry actually but my English self control didn’t allow me to show it. I offered him a cup of coffee as I took it for granted he was Sassy’s brother.

“No thanks,” he said. “I’ll just grab a shower and hit the sack.”

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He didn’t even ask me if that was ok which made me hot under the collar. And I was pretty hot already. The air conditioner wasn’t working too well so I was using the kitchen as my den and leaving the door of the ice-box wide open to keep cool.

I usually eat out or bring in pizza or sandwiches so the fridge was pretty empty except for some bacon and eggs, a can of beer and some coke. In fact, Truffles likes to crawl in under the bottom shelf and chill out.

I sleep on the couch and there’s a shower room so I find it all rather convenient. I hardly ever go upstairs as I consider that Sassy’s territory.

Justin didn’t bother to go upstairs either. He went straight into the shower room and started the water running. Obviously, he knows the house well, I thought, and remembers the water takes forever to filter through from the outside boiler. Probably has more right to be here than I have. Then I almost ate my words as he started undressing in front of me just as if I was a room mate or something. This really pissed me off but my stiff upper lip prevented me from saying something. Still I decided I’d have quite a few things to say to Sassy. He went into the shower room wearing the briefest of briefs. I must say he had a great body and obviously liked to show it off. He left the door ajar so I could hear him lathering himself and singing some song I didn’t recognize.

I couldn’t wait to ask him how long he was intending to stay.

After ten minutes or so, he came out with a ridiculously small towel around his waist. It just about covered his credentials. This time he did at least have the good manners to ask me if he could have a coke.

“Help yourself,” I said forgetting I was sitting in front of the ice-box.

He had to squeeze past me.

Then the unexpected happened. His dick brushed my shoulder as he squeezed by and I felt a strange tingle run up and down my spine. Next the towel fell from his waist while he was getting his coke. As he bent down to pick it up, I got a full view of his ass. The tingle spread to my dick. I was rock hard that fast. He wrapped the minuscule towel around him and then squeezed by me again as if nothing had happened. But for me it had. I’d never felt sensations quite like this before. A woman’s butt had never done this to me. In all our nights of love making my wife had never made me feel like this. What the hell was happening? No other guy had had this effect on me. To make matters worse he stood in front of me stretching and yawning languorously. The towel around his waist stretched and yawned too, affording me tantalizing glimpses of his scrotum and the tip of his dick. It made me hot and flustered.

This didn’t escape his notice.

“Sorry,” he said, “I forgot to ask you if you’d like one too.”

I was afraid to say yes as that would mean he’d have to squeeze past me again and I couldn’t stand up and get one for myself as my dick was sticking out like a flagpole on the 4th of July.

“No thanks,” I said. “I have to finish this. I’ll grab one later.”

I watched him slowly sip his coke and prayed he would go away soon so that I could get my dick under control.

“Hope I didn’t bother you,” he said.

“Not at all.” I replied, forcing a smile.

If only he knew the half of it, I thought, and then decided maybe he did. Guys these days are such cockteasers. They seem to try it on with both men and women. Not for them the hang ups we used to have.

He looked at the couch. “You sleeping down here?”

I nodded, my dick now even stiffer than my upper lip.

“I’ll bunk down upstairs,” he said.

“Ok, see you in the morning.” I said, and watched him climb the stairs.

This meant I got a full view of his balls swaying and another glimpse of that great ass. I began to have strangely adolescent feelings. My head began to swim and my knees turned to jelly. Just as they had once many years before when some cute guy had jerked me off in a cinema toilet. I’d tucked the experience away in the folds of my subconscious but now it was all flooding back to me. Maybe my divorce had made me vulnerable and I was ready for a similar experience. Had I been fooling myself, and my wife, all this time? Is this what they meant by coming out of the closet? I only knew that the sight of Sassy’s feisty little brother and the touch of his dick had turned me on as I’d never been turned on before. I decided to give myself a cold shower. Unfortunately, the sweet tangy smell of him still lingered in the air and I had horny visions of his dick rising up to meet my open mouth. And that butt. That gorgeous butt.

Would that I were Michelangelo and could sculpture it and then take it to bed with me and run my hands over it. Instead I took hold of the soap and, using it as a lubricant, jerked myself off. There’d be no peace for me tonight. I knew my dick would grow hard again at the thought of him and that I would want to go upstairs and fuck him till he cried for mercy. But I was Sassy’s guest and this was her brother. Oh, the cruel irony of life.

Even after the cold shower, I was still hot. There was no air in the place. No ventilation. Justin had closed the fridge door. I opened it again and Truffles crawled gratefully inside. I should have taken the little fella for a walk but I was too tired. I’d take him out first thing in the morning.

The light from the fridge cast a gentle glow over the kitchen. I lay on the couch as I was. I didn’t put on any pyjamas or even cover myself with the sheet. It was too hot. Finally I fell asleep.

I woke up with a damp dick, to the sound of someone whispering and Truffles snuffling. Somebody opened the door to the back porch. I heard Truffles go outside. For a moment, I couldn’t think who it could be. Had Sassy come back? Then I saw him outlined against the fridge. He was getting himself another coke and this time he wasn’t wearing the towel. He wasn’t wearing anything in fact. He bent down to look inside the fridge. Probably he was hungry. Once again I got a mega-view of his butt.

It was so perfectly formed. Tight and muscular with just a hint of body hair, fair and fine, like thistledown. This awesome orb was partly in shadow and partly illuminated by the soft light from the open fridge.

“Chiaroscuro,” I almost said out loud.

I remembered Michelangelo and my fantasy under the shower. I felt myself grow hard again and pulled the sheet over me, conscious of my nakedness. He turned round as he heard the sheet rustling. I pretended to be asleep. I so wanted to open my eyes and catch a glimpse of his dick but I was afraid of what I might do. I was no longer in control of my senses. After a few moments he went to the door to let Truffles in.

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Then all was quiet.

I knew he was still there because I could hear him breathing.

I wondered if he was maybe smoking a cigarette but there was no smell of smoke. Whatever could he be doing.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it one minute longer and opened my eyes.

He was standing there looking at me.

“I see you sleep in the buff too,” is all he said. Then he added, “You’re in really good shape for a college professor.”

So he’d been watching me while I slept. Seen my dick and everything.

“Thanks,” is all I managed to say.

I’d never been in a situation like this before. I was at a loss for words.

I just didn’t know what to say to him. I certainly couldn’t tell him about the indecent thoughts whirling through my mind. That I wanted to reach out and touch him. Caress his dick. Watch it swell. Put it in my mouth and taste it. Sniff his armpits. Suck his nipples. Lick between his toes. Bury my nose in his butt. Any or all of these. And in quick succession.

But, coward that I was, I just lay there frozen waiting for him to make the first move. Or maybe he’d already made it. In fact he’d made far too many moves. Undressing in front of me, then dropping his towel, and now standing here stark bloody bollock naked.

I told myself that he was young and uninhibited. That it was all in my mind. My dirty, filthy, horny mind. He looked so natural standing there, so pure, so unconscious of his nakedness. It would be a sin to touch him.

“You don’t say much, do you?” he said finally.

“I’m better at writing,” was my inane reply.

“Well write me a sonnet sometime,” he said sharply and turned to go.

Now I was afraid I’d offended him.

I put out my hand to stop him but he was already half way up the stairs.

“I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning,” I shouted after him.

“Not too early,” he shouted back.

I lay there trembling.

Why was I so backward in coming forward? Why didn’t I have the strength of my convictions? After all, I was the older man. I was the one who was supposed to have all the experience. And he’d done his best to encourage me. Even told me that he liked my body.

I tried to remember if I’d had a hard-on when I woke up. I usually do. Why hadn’t he just put my dick in his mouth. Life would have been so much simpler. To awaken from my heavenly dream of him to find his lips round my dick. Then I would have been sure.

Once again my mind went off on flights of fancy as I thought of him. How much of an erection had I had, I wondered, when he was looking at my dick. How long had he stood there. Maybe I should go upstairs and ask him if he’s hungry. I got up and walked towards the stairs, harder than a wooden banister myself. Then I persuaded myself that all this was ridiculous and went into the bathroom to jerk off in front of the mirror. Something I hadn’t done since before my marriage.

He’d been right. I was in good shape. I didn’t exactly have a washboard stomach but it was pretty flat and capped by what my wife used to call my impeccable pecs. My legs and arms were strong and muscular and my dick was my pride and joy. Not only was it more than average in length but it was a long distance runner. It stayed hard for a long, long time and had satisfied my wife for more than seven years. So why wasn’t I putting it to better use and fucking that little cutie upstairs. Because I was shit scared that’s why. Scared he’d call me a fucking faggot, or something worse, and scared he’d tell his sister.

Strangely enough, after all that erotic excitement I had a hard job with my hand job. It felt so juvenile jerking myself off when that hot ass was probably upstairs hungry for it. I decided to take the plunge and go up to his room to see if he could give me a helping hand, so to speak.

I crept up the stairs in happy anticipation. But all was quiet on the Justin front. His door was closed and Truffles was standing guard. That did it. I went back to my bed and fell asleep, dick in hand, and didn’t wake up until ten the next morning. I put together an English breakfast. Bacon and eggs and toast. Truffles came snuffling down when he smelt the bacon. He loved bacon. I gave him some even though I knew it wasn’t good for him. Once again I crept upstairs only to find the door ajar.

He must have got up during the night to take a leak, I thought.

I eased the door open with my shoulder. The room was empty. Once again I was disappointed. I had expected to find him flat on his stomach, his legs wide apart and his balls spread out like two ripe plums. Either that or on his back, half asleep, fondling his dick. I’d been so looking forward to that meatloaf of his for breakfast. As it was I had to content myself with the ham and eggs I’d prepared for him.

I didn’t do much work that day. Couldn’t concentrate. Anyway, it was too darn hot. What I eventually did do was get some provisions from the market and put together some things for lunch or supper. Then I sat and waited for him. I was angry again because he hadn’t even left me a note. No consideration at all. I felt like a frustrated housewife waiting for her husband to come home from the office.

The clock ticked on and still he didn’t come. Then I began to feel like an over anxious mother waiting for her little boy to come home from school. He didn’t arrive until seven in the evening by which time I was ready to kill him. However, I saw at once that something was wrong. He was walking funny and seemed to be in pain.

“I fell asleep on the beach,” he said.

I helped him off with his tank top and he stepped painfully out of his jeans. By now I was used to seeing him without his clothes but not red and raw like this. He’d fallen asleep on his stomach, naked as usual, and the whole back of him was redder than a lobster. I looked in the bathroom cabinet and found that Sassy had several jars of cold cream and a couple of tubes of camomile lotion. I made him lay down on his stomach again. This time on his bed.

All my anger went out the window. He needed me and I was there. I had absolutely no experience of first aid so decided to use my common sense. I let dollops of cool cold cream fall on his back and then slowly and very, very carefully spread them out with the tips of my fingers, being careful not to actually touch him. This was a very slow process and went on for a very long time. I worked my way down his back, from his shoulders to his beautiful compact ass and the backs of his legs. Most of the time I worked in silence, intent on what I was doing, afraid to cause him pain. Every now and again he made soft little grunting noises which I took to be signs of approval because he kept drifting into sleep and was obviously suffering from sunstroke as well as sunburn. I had no idea as to whether I should give him plenty to drink or not.

I had some water handy in case he asked for it but he didn’t. I was on the verge of some kind of stroke myself because this slow, delicate process of applying salving balms was driving me crazy with desire for him. I had his butt there between my hands and I couldn’t touch it. All I could do was drop dollops of cream and spread them out as gently as I could without being able to come into contact with his scorched flesh. What I really wanted to do was drop dollops of cum on that glorious butt of his or slip my dick gingerly in there and give him a completely different burning sensation but it just wasn’t possible. How I wished I had fucked him last night when I had the chance.

I began to sweat from the heat and the heat of him. I asked him if he’d be all right while I went to take a shower. Sassy’s bathroom was just next door so I didn’t have to go far. He made no reply so I put a few more general dollops on his burnt body so they could soak in while I was away. Once again I found myself in front of a bathroom mirror with a huge hard on but this time in too much of a hurry to even think of jerking off. I just wanted to have my shower and get back to him. I didn’t even bother to put anything on. He’d been naked in front of me so, what the hell, I’d be naked in front of him.

There was a new unspoken intimacy between us now. A complete trust. It was like being suspended together out of time and space. Suddenly I realized I was falling in love with him. I knew it was ridiculous. I mean I didn’t even know the guy and this wave of love and tenderness was wrapping itself round me like a warm blanket. There was just no doubt about it. I desired him. I wanted to suck him and fuck him and do lots of other dick-watering things. But most of all I knew I wanted to love him.

How could all that happen in one single mind-blowing day. Well, if you’ve ever experienced it then you’ll know that when it happens, it happens without warning. There’s no rhyme or reason or time element about it. The one you love has always been there waiting for you. Destiny and Celestine Prophecy rolled fantastically into one.

I hurried back to his bedside. He hadn’t budged an inch and was in the position I’d hoped to find him that morning. Legs wide apart with his balls peeping through his scrumptious thighs like two juicy plums. I put my hand down there, to enfold it round his sweet scrotum. He lifted his ass slightly so I could get right under and grasp his dick. He was rock of ages hard. He groaned contentedly and raised his butt some more.

I bent right down and inserted my tongue. He groaned again. I worked his dick with my hand and his ass with my tongue. He rubbed his dick against my hand and pushed his ass down towards my mouth until we were lip synching. I tongue fucked him until his groans became grunts, and his grunts moans. Then I put some of the cold cream on my dick and inserted it gently into his butt. I began to fuck him slowly, taking my dick out as far as possible and then putting it in as far as possible. I couldn’t put any weight on his body. I couldn’t even touch his body. It was like fucking him in mid-air. We both began to groan now. It was awesome.

Instinctively, I bent backwards away from him and slowly he sat up so that more of my dick could sink in. Our bodies seemed to know exactly what to do. With a little difficulty I managed to bend still further back, using my arms as levers, until he had worked his ass round and was almost sitting on top of me.

We must have looked like something from the kamasutra. Me walking backwards on my hands and he riding high on my dick.

After a while, he looked down at me, a cheeky expression on his face and said his first words to me: “You piss elegant English prick.”

“Where did you learn that?” I asked, amused rather than offended.

“We get to see English movies over here too,” was his reply.

I smiled. I felt so relaxed and happy. Here we were having our first real conversation and he was insulting me and sitting on my prick. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

He smiled down at me again and said with engaging southern charm, “Did I have to get burnt almost to a cinder to get you to fuck me?”

“I wasn’t sure,” I said.

“What do you mean you weren’t sure?” he said, sitting down a little further on my dick.

“I dangled my dick in your face, gave you a panoramic view of my butt and almost jumped into bed with you. What more of an invitation did you need?”

“I’m a bit slow on the uptake, I’m afraid. It took a while to sink in.”

“Give me another second,” he said, “and I’ll sure as hell make it sink in!”

And with that he moved his ass cruelly down onto my dick.

Simultaneously, he took hold of his cock and began to jerk off.

I watched fascinated.

“How’s that?” He asked as he took my dick break dancing.

“Wonderful.” I replied.

“Finally got you talking too!” He quipped.

I lay there spread eagled on the bed as he worked his way up and down on my dick and massaged his own.

I knew that sooner or later I was going to get a faceful of his cum but I didn’t care.

“This is great,” he said after a while, “I just love the feel of your dick. Tastes good too. I would have fucked you in your sleep but Truffles kept whining to be let out so I licked your dick instead”

I looked up at him, my mouth open in surprise.

“You should have told me.” I said. ”I thought I’d been dreaming.”

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“Must have been a hell of a wet dream, then. Anyway, you’d better look out because here comes another one.”

And with that he sent a stream of steaming hot cum raining down on me. I drank it greedily like a baby gulping his first bottle and then came in a cascade inside of him. He flopped down on my collapsed dick and I fell asleep with him gingerly folded in my arms.

The next thing I remember is waking up with a hard-on again and finding my dick awash in his mouth.

“It’s been up your ass,” I cried, horrified.

“Makes it taste all the better,” he said laughing. Then he took it out of his mouth and started drooling all over me.

With anybody else it would have been disgusting and gross but I was so hot and morning horny for him, he could even have peed on me for all I cared. We may not have had time for a shower but he was making up for it by giving me a bed-bath. He drooled over my ‘impeccable pecs’ and drove me half way to the ceiling with his tongue as he worked his way over to my armpits slathering them with spittle till my whole body went loose with the pleasure of it.

Then he moved back to lick my dick and almost swallowed my balls in the process. Meanwhile I writhed and moaned and grabbed on to his hair as there was nothing else to grab on to. Except his dick, of course, but that seemed to be everywhere at the same time.

Finally he arrived at my ass and slathered and spat some more, nuzzling my balls with his nose as he penetrated me with his tongue. My whole being cried out for him. He pushed my firmly muscled legs into the air and drove his dick deep into my pulsating passage, giving me the first, and I’m sure the finest, fuck of my life. I was at once a minefield of exploding molecules and buttless and breathless at the end of it all.

We lay side by side bathed in sweat and spittle, listening to each other’s heartbeats. Then I took his hand and guided him towards the bathroom. I hadn’t shot my load yet and wanted to fuck him in front of that mirror. Once again we had little to hold on to but we managed.

Thinking back on that first night when I was too lily-livered to follow him upstairs or invite him into my bed, I got quite a kick out of standing in front of the bathroom mirror watching myself thrust my dick in and out of him at the rate of knots, pinching his nipples and biting his earlobes as I did so, until we finally came to a shuddering climax. And almost broke the mirror in the process.

We spent a long time looking at each other in that mirror and then prepared ourselves for a fresh start under the soothing shower. Even so Justin winced a little with the pain as the hot water stung his back.

I dried him as carefully and as tenderly as I could which of course turned us on again. Especially when I applied the ointment.

He sighed contentedly and said, “You’ll have to do this at least once a year to celebrate our anniversary.”

We spent the rest of the day in bed discussing our future and getting to know each other even better. This meant indulging in a few more fucks with a break here and there for food. Naturally, we also fed and watered Truffles who was feeling somewhat neglected.

Now, after five weeks of gazing in awe at Justin’s beautiful butt or feeling the wonders of him deep inside me, I ask myself what would have happened if he hadn’t stayed too long in the sun. Would I ever have touched his dick? Knowing me probably not. Then again, knowing him as I do now, I don’t suppose it would have taken him very long to work his southern charms into my lonely life and his dick into my butt.

So I wasn’t surprised to hear that he’d planned the whole fucking visit. You see Sassy had sent him some pictures we’d had taken together and Justin liked what he saw.

“That’s why I made the trip without saying a word to her,” he confessed.

“Well, we’ll have to say a word eventually.” I told him.

“Take some advice from Scarlet O’Hara’s kissing cousin and leave it till she’s back from Europe. After all tomorrow is another day,” he replied.

Then before I could protest or say another loyal word he was inside me again taking firm hold of my sexual reins. He rode me hard and strong and I stopped thinking like a professor and began to enjoy bending to the iron will of his dick.

And we’re still at it. His butt thrusts invariably make me forget all about tomorrow. They timelessly and tirelessly fuck me into next week and even next month, each one communicating a whole new meaning of the term ‘deep south.’ In fact, I’m completely and utterly ‘gone with the wind’ each and every time my ass joyfully accommodates the gorgeous guy that just over a month ago I didn’t even want to give houseroom.

I’m a firm fan of the confederate flag too. Sometimes I can hardly wait for him to plunder me with his powerful flagpole and unfurl his sturdy standard in my unflagging ass. At others just a hint of his sultry southern breeze beneath my butt-wings is enough to launch me, all flags flying, into mindless, mind-blowing sexual infinity.

‘Jusssss-tin,’ I hiss as he sends me hurtling through horny heaven and I cum in droolful spasms… Ju..Ju..Justin!!

My British butt deflates like a party balloon as he pumps the air out of me. ‘Jussssssst … fuckin … in … !!’ I wheeze.

I tell you man, he blows my mind and my ass so good that his name’s become my anal anthem and you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll still be chanting it when Sassy comes marching home. Glory-hole hallelujah!

So as you’ve no doubt realized by now, everything’s cool. Or should that be hot?! Anyway I’m having the best summer ‘sab-butt-ical’ of my life.

Tomorrow might be another day but somehow I just don’t give a damn.

The Badpuppy.com model in these pictures is Miro Trojan

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