Without question, Brad Matthews was always regarded as the big hung stud of Maneuvers. Every night around 11 p.m. (you could almost set your watch by it), he'd walk in with that strong, purposeful walk of his, cast his eyes around the place, make his selection for the evening's future fun and bar, then sit back and have a few beers, waiting for his quarry to come to him. They always did, quite predictably. He was by far the hottest man in Manuevers this, or any other night, and he knew it. He exuded that self-confidence that seemed to radiate throughout the bar and, thus, anyone who hadn't been had by him (and most had) were willing to wait their turn in what obviously was a long line. In had been thus for five years, ever since Brad became a Manuevers regular.
Brad had been one of the most popular and sought-after men n Orange County, having easily made that difficult transition from teenage pretty boy to mid-30s stud. Even those few strands of grey hair that were starting to invade his otherwise black curls seemed toadd to the "all-man" msytique that surrounded him. His body was well muscled and toned, showing full well the years of gym going that put him in near-perfect condition. His chest was developed to the point that the cotton fibers of his assorted t-shirts seemed to strain to holdback the massive pecs that seemed to rise and fall with each breath. His biceps bulged nicely, even through the most heavy plaid woolen Levi shorts that he generally rolled up to advantageously exhibit them.
Centered in one of the most well-chiseled faces imaginable were those piercing, deep blue eyes that seemed to penetrate everything the touched.
Dress that boy in his traditionally tight, faded Levis and Levi jacket and you had by far the most rugged-looking man who ever walked t hrough the portals of this or any other gay bar in Los Angeles. He relished him nickname, "Butch," and seemed to personify it.
If Butch sent out shockwaves of sexuality with his masculine appearance, they were secondary to some of the tales about him that circulated Manuevers. As the bar's resident stud, stories about his sexual prowess and incredibly numeous escapades were legendary.
One story involved the night he was stopped by a police officer for running a red light on Garden Grove Boulevard. According to talk, the tall, dark police office who pulled him over was standing next to his 1976 TR-6 when Butch reportedly grabbed him by the dick. So,the story goes, Butch convined the formerly straight law officer that he could not survive another night without spending it in Butch's bed.
After the policeman spent the night with Butch (who reportedly fucked him four times), he completely fell in love with Butch and waited for him outside the bar each night until closing time. The office clearly wanted a return engagement, and Butch was careful about those things. "Don't want to get involved," he'd tell one of his former conquests who wanted an encore.
The officer later confided to friends in the bar that when Butch had taken him home, he had his pants off and legs thrust back before he knew what hit him.
What hit him was a perfectly well-formed 10-inch cock that had found a home, at one time or another, in the assholes of just about every man who ever walked in Manuevers' front door. The rules of the game were simple: Butch would ask once, only once. If anyone had the nerve to refuse (which was rare), he never asked again, regardless how strong the appeal.
But once Butch invited someone home, there was no doubt they were guests in his home and treated as such. They were offered refreshments, occasionally some grass, a robe, poppers, snacks or anything they might desire. Butch even served coffee and breakfast the morning after, usually with a big grin on his face.
And that was usually the end of it. When the episode was over, a repeat invitation was unlikely. Butch DID like his variety and an average of 6.7 men per week were seen walking out of his apartment, most looking extremely satisfied and with a strange walk that indicated all was not quite well with their rear end.
More than one satisfied customer reported that getting fucked by Butch was akin to getting sodomized by a bull elephant...a warm, lovable bull elephant who had the right equipment and knew how to use it.
This particular night, it was dead at Manuevers. Most of the regulars had taken flight for the long Fourth of July weekend, leaving behind assorted strangers and drunks. Butch was sitting in the bar at his favorite barstool quietly sipping on a Lite.
"Haven't seen you in a while," he remarked casually, as I started to walk toward another area of the bar. "Guess not," I replied. "Just don't have much time for the bar scene these days. Thank heaven we gotta holiday coming up."
"Know what you mean, but with all these guys outta town, not much selection in here. You know, Gerry, I don't think I ever made it with you," he winked.
"Guess not," I grinned back. "But you seem to be doing okay. One more notch on your dick and you're gonna look like the tatooed lady."
"Yea, I guess so," he said, taking another sip on his beer. "But I'm the friendly sort who likes to get to know people."
"And THEN some...from what I've heard," I laughed again.
We ordered another couple of rounds and starting talking about ourselves a lot, our hopes, experiences, disappointments, frustrations...everthing that seems to make life livable. Another round followed more conversation and another round followed that.
I was beginning to feel more than a little tipsy and I noticed that Bruce was beginning to slightly slur his words, not badly, but just enough to be noticeable.
"You know," he said, leaning back to give me a full view of his suddenly swelling basket, "I could sure use a little tonight. How about you?"
Although I had lusted after this incredibly handsome hunk for several years, I never entertained the slightest hope that I would ever be invited to share his bed.
"Sure," why not, I said almost casually. "A nice bed would feel real good about now."
With those formalities concluded, and a night of lust lying ahead, we departed Manuevers in Butch's TR-6 and headed over to his apartment.
Once inside, the first thing that struck me about it was its absolute masculinity. Instead of the usual white, dull apartment walls, he had installed rough-wood paneling, which perfectly displayed some dark leather sofas and chairs. Above the fireplace was massive oil painting, a cowboy and his horse overlooking what best could be described as "Big Valley." This was obviously a man's house.
As I later learned, the bedroom featured floor-to-ceiling mirrors along side a king-size bed that pretty well reflected the kind of activity that lie ahead. I couldn't help but notice a well-equipped night stand that included mouthwash, poppers, lube and a neatly folded towel. The bedspread was neatly pulled back, obviously in anticipation that the night's search would be successful.
As we began to undress, I could see first-hand the enormous attraction this man presented to his many conquests. As he took off his shirt, he chest was a forest of black curly hair that caressed one of the most nicely developed chests I've ever seen. His tanned shoulders stood out prominently muscled as his shirt unwrapped one of the best bodies I've ever seen. The tight black hair formed a butterfly pattern on his stomach, before forming a neat line of black hair that progressed down to his crotch.
That was a mere preview for what was to follow as he unbuttoned his Levis and let his slightly hardening cock swing freely between his legs. How many before me, I wondered, had started to drool at the sight.
We climbed into bed with complete anticipation of what lie ahead. As he took me slowly into his arms, the pleasing aroma of his manliness hit me. A soft, masculine scent that combined just a hint of perspiration combined with a subtle cologne. This produced a heady combination of odors that resulted in one of the biggest hard-ons I've ever had.
He planted a hot, wet kiss on my mouth and I could feel his strong body pressing relentlessly against mine. The feeling of his tight, tanned skin wrapping the hard muscles of his upper body caused a deep stirring at the base of my balls. No question I was ready. As we furiously hugged each other, I reached behind him and felt one of the most muscular set of buns I had ever touched, covered lightly by wirey, black hair that seemed to curl inside toward his asshole.
I knew I had to penetrate that ass. And my mind started racing at the thought. Surely, Butch would never allow himself to get fucked, I thought to myself. But I wanted that ass, and I knew some tricks to make sure I got it. As we continued passionate hugging and fondling, I could sense there was a subtle struggle going on. Every time Butch moved, he would try to wrestly me over on my back. I counted by forcing him back further a little more each time, also. It was like a wrestling match in which there would be only one winner. No draws in this one.
I thought of another strategy, one that had worked so many times with men who thought they were unfuckable. I put my head between his legs and slowly took his huge cock into my mouth. He groaned with delight and rolled slowly over on his back to give me complete and clear access to it. As I pumped up and down with my mouth, I could feel him getting harder and harder. If I kept this up much longer, he would explode from here to kingdom come. So I eased up a little, just enough to let him relax a little. I raised his knees just enough room to take his bull-size balls in my mouth.
With him on his back, his legs were half raised in a resting position, and he was red hot. The mouth music had done its work. Now all I needed was to get some lube on my dick and in his ass.
As I took his cock in my mouth again, I reached reached for the lube jar. He was so enthralled with my cock-sucking that he didn't seem to notice.
I slid down a little further between his legs and started to rim him. With some red hot tongue action, I could sense he was about ready to shoot straight through the ceiling. I continued to swirl by tongue around the outside of his asshole, making surprise insertions every so often. He writhed in complete and absolute ecstasy as my tongue darted in and out of his asshole. I was getting him ready and I knew it.
With one sudden and unexpection motion, I hoisted his legs over my shoulder, pressed my cock against his hairy asshole and quickly, yet easily entered him. He let out an audible gasp at penetration, seeming slightly shocked that any of this was happening to him.
I lifted his legs higher to make deeper and deeper entry into this hot, muscled asshole that seemed to powerfully engulf my cock. From my position in the command post, I could look down at this magnificent specimen of manhood for direc eye-to-eye contact. His deep blue eyes flashed a certain look of bewilderment, but he made no attempt force me away.
I began to pick up the tempo, sliding in and out full length. Although he still seemed stunned by this unexpected entry, he continued to lie there and accept what I was giving him. As I pounded my thighs against his hot, hairybutt, I could hear the flesh slapping...man to man... thighs against ass.
I started a circular, pumping motion like I was trying to plow right through him to the root of his soul. He started to arch higher and higher, allowing me deeper and deeper thrusts. At the same time, he grabbed his cock in his hand and started jerking off. I pounded him furiously, seeking that ultimate relief.
As I started to cum, I leaned forward and planted my mouth over his. The spasms that were rocking me seemed to be doing the same to him. I could feel one hot load after another erupting like a hot volcano from the end of my cock into the asshole of this utterly gorgeous man. After the last load was delivered, still connected, I let my body fall gently on top of his.
It was a much subdued Butch who lay there, his legs still wrapped around my waist and the cock-to-ass connection started to subside. I let myself slide out of him.
He was speechless for a moment, then said in a soft voice, "Well, I guess it had to happen sometime. You know, Gerry, I'd never been fucked before. I've fucked hundreds of guys, maybe thousands, but it never happened to me. I always wondered how it felt and why they liked it so much. Now I know. You were great. But to be perfectly honest, my asshole's a little sore."
"Don't worry about it, you'll live," I said, trying to comform this only recently impaled, former virgin. "It happens to all of us eventually. It just took a little longer for it to happen to you.
"I hope you won't tell anyone about this," he said sheepishly. "It wouldn't do a lot for my image for people to know that old Butch ended up on his back with his legs in the air."
"No sweat, Butch. I won't tell a soul," I replied, starting to doze off after the physical exertion. As I turned over on my side, I said, "Besides, Butch, you were a great piece of ass and I want to keep that stuff to myself."
"You know, Gerry, it just might work out that way," he said as he turned out the lights.
Brad had been one of the most popular and sought-after men n Orange County, having easily made that difficult transition from teenage pretty boy to mid-30s stud. Even those few strands of grey hair that were starting to invade his otherwise black curls seemed toadd to the "all-man" msytique that surrounded him. His body was well muscled and toned, showing full well the years of gym going that put him in near-perfect condition. His chest was developed to the point that the cotton fibers of his assorted t-shirts seemed to strain to holdback the massive pecs that seemed to rise and fall with each breath. His biceps bulged nicely, even through the most heavy plaid woolen Levi shorts that he generally rolled up to advantageously exhibit them.
Centered in one of the most well-chiseled faces imaginable were those piercing, deep blue eyes that seemed to penetrate everything the touched.
Dress that boy in his traditionally tight, faded Levis and Levi jacket and you had by far the most rugged-looking man who ever walked t hrough the portals of this or any other gay bar in Los Angeles. He relished him nickname, "Butch," and seemed to personify it.
If Butch sent out shockwaves of sexuality with his masculine appearance, they were secondary to some of the tales about him that circulated Manuevers. As the bar's resident stud, stories about his sexual prowess and incredibly numeous escapades were legendary.
One story involved the night he was stopped by a police officer for running a red light on Garden Grove Boulevard. According to talk, the tall, dark police office who pulled him over was standing next to his 1976 TR-6 when Butch reportedly grabbed him by the dick. So,the story goes, Butch convined the formerly straight law officer that he could not survive another night without spending it in Butch's bed.
After the policeman spent the night with Butch (who reportedly fucked him four times), he completely fell in love with Butch and waited for him outside the bar each night until closing time. The office clearly wanted a return engagement, and Butch was careful about those things. "Don't want to get involved," he'd tell one of his former conquests who wanted an encore.
The officer later confided to friends in the bar that when Butch had taken him home, he had his pants off and legs thrust back before he knew what hit him.
What hit him was a perfectly well-formed 10-inch cock that had found a home, at one time or another, in the assholes of just about every man who ever walked in Manuevers' front door. The rules of the game were simple: Butch would ask once, only once. If anyone had the nerve to refuse (which was rare), he never asked again, regardless how strong the appeal.
But once Butch invited someone home, there was no doubt they were guests in his home and treated as such. They were offered refreshments, occasionally some grass, a robe, poppers, snacks or anything they might desire. Butch even served coffee and breakfast the morning after, usually with a big grin on his face.
And that was usually the end of it. When the episode was over, a repeat invitation was unlikely. Butch DID like his variety and an average of 6.7 men per week were seen walking out of his apartment, most looking extremely satisfied and with a strange walk that indicated all was not quite well with their rear end.
More than one satisfied customer reported that getting fucked by Butch was akin to getting sodomized by a bull elephant...a warm, lovable bull elephant who had the right equipment and knew how to use it.
This particular night, it was dead at Manuevers. Most of the regulars had taken flight for the long Fourth of July weekend, leaving behind assorted strangers and drunks. Butch was sitting in the bar at his favorite barstool quietly sipping on a Lite.
"Haven't seen you in a while," he remarked casually, as I started to walk toward another area of the bar. "Guess not," I replied. "Just don't have much time for the bar scene these days. Thank heaven we gotta holiday coming up."
"Know what you mean, but with all these guys outta town, not much selection in here. You know, Gerry, I don't think I ever made it with you," he winked.
"Guess not," I grinned back. "But you seem to be doing okay. One more notch on your dick and you're gonna look like the tatooed lady."
"Yea, I guess so," he said, taking another sip on his beer. "But I'm the friendly sort who likes to get to know people."
"And THEN some...from what I've heard," I laughed again.
We ordered another couple of rounds and starting talking about ourselves a lot, our hopes, experiences, disappointments, frustrations...everthing that seems to make life livable. Another round followed more conversation and another round followed that.
I was beginning to feel more than a little tipsy and I noticed that Bruce was beginning to slightly slur his words, not badly, but just enough to be noticeable.
"You know," he said, leaning back to give me a full view of his suddenly swelling basket, "I could sure use a little tonight. How about you?"
Although I had lusted after this incredibly handsome hunk for several years, I never entertained the slightest hope that I would ever be invited to share his bed.
"Sure," why not, I said almost casually. "A nice bed would feel real good about now."
With those formalities concluded, and a night of lust lying ahead, we departed Manuevers in Butch's TR-6 and headed over to his apartment.
Once inside, the first thing that struck me about it was its absolute masculinity. Instead of the usual white, dull apartment walls, he had installed rough-wood paneling, which perfectly displayed some dark leather sofas and chairs. Above the fireplace was massive oil painting, a cowboy and his horse overlooking what best could be described as "Big Valley." This was obviously a man's house.
As I later learned, the bedroom featured floor-to-ceiling mirrors along side a king-size bed that pretty well reflected the kind of activity that lie ahead. I couldn't help but notice a well-equipped night stand that included mouthwash, poppers, lube and a neatly folded towel. The bedspread was neatly pulled back, obviously in anticipation that the night's search would be successful.
As we began to undress, I could see first-hand the enormous attraction this man presented to his many conquests. As he took off his shirt, he chest was a forest of black curly hair that caressed one of the most nicely developed chests I've ever seen. His tanned shoulders stood out prominently muscled as his shirt unwrapped one of the best bodies I've ever seen. The tight black hair formed a butterfly pattern on his stomach, before forming a neat line of black hair that progressed down to his crotch.
That was a mere preview for what was to follow as he unbuttoned his Levis and let his slightly hardening cock swing freely between his legs. How many before me, I wondered, had started to drool at the sight.
We climbed into bed with complete anticipation of what lie ahead. As he took me slowly into his arms, the pleasing aroma of his manliness hit me. A soft, masculine scent that combined just a hint of perspiration combined with a subtle cologne. This produced a heady combination of odors that resulted in one of the biggest hard-ons I've ever had.
He planted a hot, wet kiss on my mouth and I could feel his strong body pressing relentlessly against mine. The feeling of his tight, tanned skin wrapping the hard muscles of his upper body caused a deep stirring at the base of my balls. No question I was ready. As we furiously hugged each other, I reached behind him and felt one of the most muscular set of buns I had ever touched, covered lightly by wirey, black hair that seemed to curl inside toward his asshole.
I knew I had to penetrate that ass. And my mind started racing at the thought. Surely, Butch would never allow himself to get fucked, I thought to myself. But I wanted that ass, and I knew some tricks to make sure I got it. As we continued passionate hugging and fondling, I could sense there was a subtle struggle going on. Every time Butch moved, he would try to wrestly me over on my back. I counted by forcing him back further a little more each time, also. It was like a wrestling match in which there would be only one winner. No draws in this one.
I thought of another strategy, one that had worked so many times with men who thought they were unfuckable. I put my head between his legs and slowly took his huge cock into my mouth. He groaned with delight and rolled slowly over on his back to give me complete and clear access to it. As I pumped up and down with my mouth, I could feel him getting harder and harder. If I kept this up much longer, he would explode from here to kingdom come. So I eased up a little, just enough to let him relax a little. I raised his knees just enough room to take his bull-size balls in my mouth.
With him on his back, his legs were half raised in a resting position, and he was red hot. The mouth music had done its work. Now all I needed was to get some lube on my dick and in his ass.
As I took his cock in my mouth again, I reached reached for the lube jar. He was so enthralled with my cock-sucking that he didn't seem to notice.
I slid down a little further between his legs and started to rim him. With some red hot tongue action, I could sense he was about ready to shoot straight through the ceiling. I continued to swirl by tongue around the outside of his asshole, making surprise insertions every so often. He writhed in complete and absolute ecstasy as my tongue darted in and out of his asshole. I was getting him ready and I knew it.
With one sudden and unexpection motion, I hoisted his legs over my shoulder, pressed my cock against his hairy asshole and quickly, yet easily entered him. He let out an audible gasp at penetration, seeming slightly shocked that any of this was happening to him.
I lifted his legs higher to make deeper and deeper entry into this hot, muscled asshole that seemed to powerfully engulf my cock. From my position in the command post, I could look down at this magnificent specimen of manhood for direc eye-to-eye contact. His deep blue eyes flashed a certain look of bewilderment, but he made no attempt force me away.
I began to pick up the tempo, sliding in and out full length. Although he still seemed stunned by this unexpected entry, he continued to lie there and accept what I was giving him. As I pounded my thighs against his hot, hairybutt, I could hear the flesh slapping...man to man... thighs against ass.
I started a circular, pumping motion like I was trying to plow right through him to the root of his soul. He started to arch higher and higher, allowing me deeper and deeper thrusts. At the same time, he grabbed his cock in his hand and started jerking off. I pounded him furiously, seeking that ultimate relief.
As I started to cum, I leaned forward and planted my mouth over his. The spasms that were rocking me seemed to be doing the same to him. I could feel one hot load after another erupting like a hot volcano from the end of my cock into the asshole of this utterly gorgeous man. After the last load was delivered, still connected, I let my body fall gently on top of his.
It was a much subdued Butch who lay there, his legs still wrapped around my waist and the cock-to-ass connection started to subside. I let myself slide out of him.
He was speechless for a moment, then said in a soft voice, "Well, I guess it had to happen sometime. You know, Gerry, I'd never been fucked before. I've fucked hundreds of guys, maybe thousands, but it never happened to me. I always wondered how it felt and why they liked it so much. Now I know. You were great. But to be perfectly honest, my asshole's a little sore."
"Don't worry about it, you'll live," I said, trying to comform this only recently impaled, former virgin. "It happens to all of us eventually. It just took a little longer for it to happen to you.
"I hope you won't tell anyone about this," he said sheepishly. "It wouldn't do a lot for my image for people to know that old Butch ended up on his back with his legs in the air."
"No sweat, Butch. I won't tell a soul," I replied, starting to doze off after the physical exertion. As I turned over on my side, I said, "Besides, Butch, you were a great piece of ass and I want to keep that stuff to myself."
"You know, Gerry, it just might work out that way," he said as he turned out the lights.
