Hot Italian Hump-Fest

By Michael Stewart

Published on Jun 26, 1996

Gay

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This is a true story by Michael Stewart, written for NYC's Pier BBS in 1988. Copyright (c) 1988, all rights reserved; permission granted to the "Nifty Andrew" archive for online "publication" and distribution.

Comments and lewd propositions may be sent to Michael at brooklyn@yorick.ny.cybernex.net


"Hot Italian Hump-Fest"

The Diary of Michael Stewart: Thursday, March 24, 1988 -

Andy was a guy who'd signed on the board about a month before, and since I saw that he was my age and local, I started e-mailing him, and he started e-mailing back. He sounded pretty hot...Italian, from Sheepshead Bay, 26 years old, 5'11", brown hair and eyes, moustache, 7" cut, hairy chest. Mind you, just Italian and hairy-chested would have been enough for me!

After the initial contacts, we started chatting each other, and finally agreed to meet. He still lived at home, so we couldn't meet at his place, and he didn't wanna come to my place till after we checked each other out. Hmph! We finally agreed to meet at the Canarsie Pier one night after work, and then spent the entire week [C]hatting with each other about what we hoped to do to each other (now you know why the board was always busy that week, if you tried to call). We described each others cars to each other about a million times, and worked out this really elaborate plan for where we'd park, with all the contingencies and all...

Anyway, I cut out of work early that day, zoomed home, and did my best to make myself presentable. I got to the Pier about 15 minutes early, and sat, and waited. Finally, a car that met the description of Andy's pulled in, circled once or twice, and then pulled up next to me. Bingo!

The moment of truth was at hand. We stared at each other through the windows, and an awful thought ran through my head: one thing we never talked about was, who gets out of their car first? I no sooner had the chance to complete the thought than his door swung open and he got out.

Jeez... Talk about the Brooklyn type! I wasn't sure which I should stare at more: his face, his chest, or his crotch. My head was bobbing up and down so much, I must have looked like I was nodding yes to something!

He walked the few feet over to my car and said, "Mike?"

"Andy?"

"Yeah, hi!" We shook hands, and I noticed he had long fingers...and you know what they say about long fingers... We stared at each other for a minute or two, and finally I said, "So, you wanna sit here and bullshit, or would you like to come back to my place?"

I was rather gratified that he didn't hesitate an instant. "How do we get there?" I explained that I lived only about five minutes from the Pier, and told him the route I was going to follow. With everything said and done, he hopped in his car, and I gunned the engine on mine and roared out of the Pier parking lot.

In no time at all we were sitting in my living room, getting acquainted. I was glad to see that he looked even better in the light! Finally, there was little left to say, so I just kinda looked at him, smiled, and asked, "So, you want me to put on one of the porno tapes?" He nodded, and I raced for the VCR...

Trying to play it cool, I got the tape running and sat next to him on the couch. I don't think we made it five minutes past the credits when we were all over each other. Andy turned out to be a great kisser, and anyone watching would have sworn we were trying to devour each other.

After, uh, getting the feel of things, we started stripping off each others clothes...sneakers, shirts, pants, briefs, everything ended up in thrown all over the room. Andy turned out to be one of the few that looked as hot out of his clothes as in them....

We took turns on each other. Everything he did to me, I did back to him. Everything I did to him, he did back to me. Our mouths, hands, tongues, legs, everything, were all over each other - it must have looked like a nest of snakes with all the writing going on. The hottest part - for me, anyway - was when he climbed on top of me, with that hot fucking Italian body of his, and we rubbed our entire bodies together. I could feel his hard rod stuck between our bods, and with a little (very pleasurable), squirming, my stiff dick was thrusting against his every time either of us moved. I was looking up into his face, he down into mine, and our lips slowly came together. There were were, french-kissing as hard as possible, playing "dueling tongues," thrusting against each other... It was too much.

We rolled off each other just in time, and grabbed for each other's cocks, and we both blew off at the same time, our mouths still locked together, his hand wrapped around my meat while I had one hand on his dick and the other on his tight balls.

Christ! I looked at my watch - an hour and a half, we'd been at this. Then we kinda looked at each other and laughed: what a fucking mess!

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