Country Club Stud

By Bill Drake - Laureate Author

Published on Feb 10, 2022

Gay

Country Club Stud Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

NOTICE: THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ADULTS ONLY.

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Country Club Stud

Part Two

Thursday was a beautiful late summer day, when the heat and humidity broke. I showed up around noon and found that Dad's boss, Mr. Powell had hired me for the afternoon. "Hiya Matt," he greeted me with a firm, friendly handshake. I'd met the guy at a company picnic or two but not spent time with him otherwise. I had to admit he was handsome as fuck. Somewhere between muscular and trim in build, tallish, erect posture, pure upper management material.

"Hello Mr. Powell." He didn't correct me or ask me to call him Dave.

Powell had a great game. I'd say only Mr. Cahill and Mr. NFL were better players. And he was in a good mood as we wrapped up and I cleaned his clubs.

"Thanks for a good job today, Matt," he said, offering me my tip.

"Thank you sir. It was a pleasure."

He paused and gave me an intent look. "You have plans this evening?"

Jesus. Dave Powell was the last guy I'd expect to be looking for extra services. I'd been at East Hills long enough to know not to be surprised. But I was. "No sir."

"I hope this is not too forward, but any interest in coming over for dinner? It's just me, and I wouldn't mind some company."

Right then all I could think about was Mr. Powell sucking my dick and that idea seemed VERY appealing. "That sounds good, sir. OK if I go home and get changed first?"

He agreed and gave me his address.

I went home, showered and slipped on a casual T-shirt and shorts, going commando like I'd grown accustomed. I told Mom and Dad I was going over to my buddy Jeff's house.

"You staying over?" Mom asked.

It seemed a wild unlikely idea that I'd be spending the night with Mr. Powell, but it was an idea I liked. "I don't know yet. Maybe. Would that be OK?"

"Sure," she said. "Just text us by 8. You know the rules." Even if I'd graduated from high school, Mom and Dad were sticklers for letting them know my plans and whereabouts.

I was giddy and surprisingly nervous as I strode up to Powell's front door. He answered the door, and I saw he'd just come out of the shower. Or maybe he was waiting to greet me like this. His 50-year-ish and fit body bared completely for me except for the white towel wrapped around his waist. His dirty blond hair was now almost mousy with the silver coming in, but it was well-groomed and slicked down in wet look, not yet dried off. His chest hair matched, though blonder and he'd probably kept it trimmed.

"Come in, Matt," he said. Not smiling, but he was in a relaxed, friendly mood. I stepped into the house, tastefully decorated and nicer than my house. Original art work on the wall, antique vases, and all that shit.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked. "I won't tell your parents," he winked.

"A beer if you got it," I said, as I followed him to the kitchen. God, his back looked even as good as his front, his strong back tapering down to his waist and then that meaty DILF ass moving the towel with each step. I don't know what Mr. Powell did to keep in shape, but it worked.

I'd enjoyed beers with my friends but this felt grown up, being offered one like this, a good craft beer too, not some watery cheap stuff. We clinked bottles, and stood several feet apart, Powell leaning against the counter, me standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

"Your folks know you're here?" he asked after some small talk.

"No, sir," I said with a conspiratorial grin.

That made Powell smile, his first real smile of the day. I don't think I realized how sexy his smile could be. "Dan would cut off my balls if he knew I had you over here." Dan is my dad's name.

"I'm not going to tell, sir," I said. I was starting to get hard just sensing that something was going to happen.

It did. Mr. Powell put down his beer and stepped up to me. We're the same height so our faces met easily, naturally. I'd done some exploratory kissing with a couple of guys at the club... Mitch and Andrew (Mr. NFL). They didn't have anything on Powell. The dude could kiss.

We made out and I could sense that the man was unloosening his towel, letting it fall to the floor. Indeed, when he backed up from me his dick was rock hard. Not as big as mine but a decent tool jutted up from his blond, hairy crotch, and I don't know any other way to put it other than to say his cock looked masculine and powerful.

"Why don't you suck me, Matt?" his smooth and deep voice said softly.

I looked up at him, with what must have been a deer in the headlights look. "Come on," he urged. "Please."

I decided what the hell. Part of me was nervous I'd be awful at this, but part of me wanted to give my first blow job. To blow Mr. Powell right there in his kitchen.

I tried to emulate the things I liked having down to me. I licked up and down that erection with fluttering, long strokes. I kissed his balls and kissed back up the shaft. And I took Mr. Powell's cock into my mouth.

"Oh yes, Matt... that's it buddy. Suck me."

I did. Or at least did my best. That must have been OK, because Powell ran his fingers through my hair and urged me on with soft sexual grunts. And slowly I worked myself further down on his rod, my excitement letting me do it without gagging.

Finally, he nudged me off. "Don't want to come yet, buddy." I sat kneeling on his floor face to face with his beautiful spit-covered dick. Fuck, I'd done it. Sucked my first dick. Not to completion, but maybe that would come later.

"Why don't we take this to the bedroom?" he asked, and I nodded and stood up. I was hard, too, and Powell grinned when he saw my crotch. "Damn, the men at the club weren't lying about your size, were they?"

I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question, but I replied, "no, sir."

Powell chuckled. I enjoyed seeing this exec's playful side. It was like a personal gift. The man helped me strip once we got to the master bedroom.

"Fucking nice body," he growled as his fingers explored my bare chest and down to my cock. "All right, your turn, Matt. Lay down on the bed and let me treat you for a while. Don't come, though... let me know if you think you're going to."

"All right," I agreed and lay back on the soft mattress.

Powell was good. Mr. Cahill-caliber good at cocksucking. But he didn't rush it. It was a slow tease, then a soft steady suck. Enough to turn me on like crazy, but mostly it kept me at a plateau of excitement. For like ten minutes as he blew me. It was awesome. I think half of it was the thrill that it was my dad's boss giving me head. The ultimate forbidden fruit.

Pretty soon he had my nuts churning in a telltale way.

"Mr. Powell, I'm gonna come if you..." I warned. And like that, Dave spit out my prick. He laughed as he saw my big dick jerk on my belly, like a beached fish.

"Damn, buddy, you got a prize cock on ya," he said admiringly. He dove back in, but to lick my balls this time. He went lower, too, licking the taint underneath my ball sac. Finally he put his hands under my thighs and hoisted my legs up. And just like that I was getting a grade-A rim job. I'd gotten them from my stock broker client, a couple of times, and had loved them. But Powell's asseating skills were something else. Hungry, intense, and talented. I lay back and pulled my legs back to let him do his work.

All of a sudden I felt a different coolness on my hole and looked up just in time to see Powell looking down on my lustily as he pressed his finger inside me.

"That's it, Matt," he said encouragingly. "Nice tight hole... feels nice."

I bit my lip. I expected this surprise intrusion to be uncomfortable but it was all pleasure. Softly pushing in and out of me. The entry of his second finger alongside stung just a second but then it, too, felt good, pushing lubricant into my ass and making my ring relax.

Occasionally he'd look down to where his fingers were working my hole but mostly his gaze was on my face. Challenging, almost, but definitely reading my reactions. "You like that?" he finally asked.

"Yes, sir." I did too. Not just the fingers but the experience of being with this successful, older man. I thought of what Dad would think if he knew Powell was fingering my hole. The very taboo thought turned me own and I felt my pucker relax to let a third finger in.

"You ever been fucked, Matt?" Mr. Powell asked.

"No, sir." God, this was going so fast. He now scooted up and pulled his fingers out and picked up the lube to squirt on his handsome cock.

He set it down and returned to the finger prep. "I want to fuck you." His words were very soft now. Almost sensual. Seductive even. "I want to fuck you so bad."

I couldn't find the voice to answer him, but I nodded my assent, feeling nervousness spread over my whole body. Fortunately, before the nerves could tighten me up, Mr. Powell removed his fingers and pressed his cock in.

"Oof!" I sighed, more in surprise than in discomfort.

Powell took advantage of the entry to spear a couple more inches inside me. I had most of his length inside before my ass instinctively clamped tight on him.

"That a boy, Matt," the man reassured me, rubbing his hands along my stomach and chest and leaning down to kiss me. God I felt really full now. I kissed back, and clung to Mr. Powell like a man at sea clings to a life preserver. In about a minute I felt soft thrusts in and out of me. Not all the way out, but about an inch in, an inch back. Loosening me up, turning me on from the inside. It felt starting to feel good.

Pretty soon, Powell was outright fucking me. He leaned back again to hold my legs up on his shoulders and pumped into my no longer virgin hole. "This ass is so tight... so fucking good."

"Oh God," I moaned.

"You like it, Matt. Like this dick fucking you?" His voice was getting louder, more possessive now.

"Yes, sir. Oh fuck!" The sensations were overwhelming, as was the emotion of losing my cherry.

Powell paused just a second and reached for the lube, squirting out some onto my rigid cock. "Stroke off for me," he ordered I did.

I'd been enjoying the sensations up to then, but jerking off while my dad's boss fucked me pushed it to another level. Now I knew what Andrew Carter felt. I started coming.

Before my sperm even left my urethra, Powell started entering his own orgasm, fucking wildly into me. "Jesus... unghh!"

My jizz sprayed out and as my last spurts came out I saw Mr. Powell's intense O face relax into a big smile. "Wow," he said. "That's what I call a fuck."

He slowly pulled out and let my legs down. "Want to shower off?" he asked, standing up from the bed. His dick was still mostly rigid and was wet from the lube and a healthy amount of his cum.

"Yeah," I said, feeling lightheaded as I stood up.

I probably took longer in the hot water than I needed to but I was still processing it all.

I wrapped the towel around me after finishing and went to join Powell on his back porch, where he was wearing just a pair of shorts. He offered me a fresh beer. "I think the other one got warm," he winked. He leaned back and looked over at me. "God, that was incredible."

"Thanks. Pretty good for me, too," I admitted.

He reached over and handed me an envelope. "You were worth every dollar," he leered.

I felt sick and ashamed at that moment. Naively I had thought we'd had a different kind of connection just now. I could tell Powell could tell what was going through my mind, and he seemed contrite. "It's just a little something, Matt. Consider it a late graduation gift. It'll help you out at college."

"Thanks, sir." I said, taking the money, sadly but with a game face on.

The man put his arm on my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. "Honest, Matt, that was in my top 3 fucks ever. So good." He planted a kiss at the side of my face and I felt a little better. "I'm honored you'd give me the gift of your cherry."

"I didn't even know I wanted to lose it until we were doing it," I admitted, blushing. "It was hot."

"I'm surprised none of the guys at the club beat me to it," he said.

"Actually, it's always the other way around." I figured I could be up front with Mr. Powell, after what we'd just done. Beside, he must have heard rumors like the rest of them. "Though usually it's just oral."

He chuckled. "I can see why. Matt Edwards, dick of death... Come on, open that towel, let me see it again."

I felt a surge of pride and did just that. I wasn't erect, since Mr. Powell had fucked a major load out of me, but my schlong hung heavy between my thighs.

He whistled. "That's a beauty all right. Incredible." He reached down and started holding it in his hand. "What do you think of staying over? My wife's out of town, and I'd love to suck you off in a bit."

"Sounds awesome, sir," I said as our lips met for a soft kiss.


Dave Powell did suck me off that night and we slept in the king sized bed. The next morning the alarm went off at 6:00 and pretty soon after that I got fucked for just the second time in my life. It was amazing.

It was a little before 8 o clock when I got home. I was winding down my shifts since I left in just a week and a half for school. So I had enough time for a workout and shower before heading to the club.

I was on cloud nine, feeling grown up as hell and processing the major milestone in my life. Dad's knock on my room door caught me by surprise. He was dressed for work, and I could tell he was waiting for me to return until he headed out.

"Got a second, Matt?" He had that serious, you're in trouble tone to his voice.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded and shut the door, then entered the room, pulling up a chair as I sat on the bed.

"Your mother called over to the Andersons last night." That was my buddy Jeff Anderson. The blood drained from my face, since I immediately realized I'd been caught in my lie. Dad's face registered my tacit admission. "She's pretty upset, and I'm pretty angry. Do you care to explain yourself?"

I got the courage to look Dad in the eye. He'd never yell at me, but the disapproval in his face was almost worse. "Sorry, Dad. I lied to you guys."

"Where were you?" he asked curtly.

"It was kind of a date," I said.

He sighed and placed his hands on his thighs. I could tell he was frustrated with the whole situation. "I know you're growing up fast, Matt. Maybe a little too fast."

I nodded. He didn't seem to want a reply.

Dad seemed to be thinking. "Hell, you're 18. I guess you shouldn't feel like you can't bring a girl around. If I talk to your mother, I'm sure she'll be OK..."

"Dad!" I interrupted, speaking before I had a chance to chicken out. "It wasn't a girl."

"Oh," he said, surprised. He paused, then said, "You're not just trying to get us off your case, are you?"

"No!" I replied in exasperation. "Dad, I'm gay."

He got a teary look in his eye and leaned forward to give me a hug. "I love you, son," he said in my ear. "Not happy you lied, mind you, but I'm proud as hell of you, you know."

I was getting teary now. He looked down on me as he stood up. "I'll explain things to your mother. In the meantime, I hope you're looking out for yourself."

"Yes, Dad," I replied. I wasn't sure I hadn't been living my summer being led around by my dick, but I felt in control of it all.

"That's good," he said, simply. "Let me know if you ever need to talk about anything."

"Yes, sir."


It was just a little over a week before I headed off to college, and I was winding down my shifts at the club. I'd had to beg off sex with Mitch Ellis on Friday, since I was too drained from my session with Powell - and still processing everything... bottoming for the first time, and coming out to my parents too.

A number of my regulars hadn't propositioned me for extra services lately. Mr. Cahill had already lined up a new caddy for the fall. Mr. Kleinman the stock broker was back to his gruff self though he tipped pretty well for my caddying. And after our fuck, Mr. NFL, Andrew Carter, now seemed downright reserved with me, like he was embarrassed we'd crossed that line.

Maybe a break from the sex would be a good thing. It didn't work out that way. Sunday morning I was one of the caddies for a group of businessmen. Typical middle-aged upper-middle management types. The guy who hired me wasn't too chatty but his buddy Tom would often chat with me as we walked down the course. Small talk and jokes mainly. I couldn't help but notice he kept sneaking glances at my crotch. Indeed, I'd gone commando, like I'd done for the summer, and it took a lot of willpower not to bone up completely. As it was my prick hung heavy and visibly in my shorts, a fact that Tom seemed to appreciate.

He finally acknowledged it as we walked ahead of the other guys. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way," he started, "but you look pretty well endowed." A nervous expression on his face, and definitely a look that communicated he was trying to get away with something he shouldn't.

I smiled back at him. "What guy doesn't like being told his dick's big?" I laughed.

That put Tom at ease. "Personal question, I know, but how big is it?"

I gave a mini shrug of my shoulder. "I dunno. Never measured it. But around this size." I held up my hands in approximation of the length.

Tom let out a whistle. "Fuck. You're shitting me."

I shook my head. "I'm not actually."

He looked down at my shorts again. "Oh fuck. Even soft it's huge."

I grinned and gestured that we should change the subject as I sensed his buddies would be catching up as we neared the next tee.

The rest of the course gave me a chance to appraise Tom's looks. Probably mid 40s, medium tall, his dark brown hair showing 20% gray now. Definite dad bod, showing the years of marriage and sitting behind a desk, but he still had a good sturdy frame and muscle beneath it. He had the ordinary suburban-dad looks you wouldn't notice at first but there was an attractiveness there, particularly in his brown eyes and bright smile. Yeah, I could see him sucking me off. Gladly.

Tom was on the same wavelength. As we rounded toward the fairway on the 17th, he whispered to me. "I'd pay to see it."

"That could be arranged," I replied, a smug look on my face I'm sure.

"I got a round drinks with these guys, but maybe later?"

I hung out at the club, showered and got dressed again. I didn't have to wait around the entrance too long before Tom showed up a little buzzed and a lot horny. He was starting to throw hard in his shorts as he stepped up and slapped my back in a friendly way.

"Thanks for waiting, Matt."

"No problem, sir."

"Tom's the name."

"No problem, Tom," I said.

He looked at me with a big smile, eyeing my body. "You're a good looking young stud."

"Thanks, Tom. You're pretty good looking yourself."

He laughed. "They train you to say that to everyone." I started to object, but Tom stopped me. "Just teasing, man, but I know I'm not as in shape as I used to be." He looked at his watch. "Afternoon's young, you feel like coming over to my place for a bit? Hang out?"

"Um, sure." I'd been only to Cahill's house, twice, and of course Mr. Powell's, but something about Tom's easy personality had me agreeing.

"I'm not even a member of this club," he said as we walked toward our cars. "But you could persuade a man."

He gave me his address and twenty minutes later I was pulling my car into the driveway of a nice house in a nice subdivision.

"If anyone asks," he said as we walked to the front door, "you're here to pick up your tip since I left my wallet at home." He winked conspiratorially. "The wife's at work so we got a few hours. Not that you have to stay that long," he added, nervously. "But you know..."

"Yeah," I assured him. I unbuttoned my shorts and let them drop.

"Damn," Tom whistled as he saw my dick swinging from my crotch. Getting harder but not erect yet. "I wanna suck it before you get boned."

"Go ahead," I gestured, smiling and putting my hands on my hips.

This was a new thing for me, getting hard inside a guy's mouth. I loved it. And the harder I got the louder this married dude moaned and the harder he worked my cock.

It wasn't going to take me long, and I decided not to hold back. I placed my right hand on the top of his head and I started cumming in his throat.

Tom jerked his dick with my cock still dribbling its essence in his mouth. A few strokes and he was cumming excitedly.

We both laughed as I pulled out. "Thanks, man," I said, hiking my shorts back up.

"I should be thanking you. I'm gonna have dreams about that cock." Slowly, the man stood up and looked for a kleenex to wipe off his ejaculation from his cock and hand.

"I should go," I said. It was getting close to dinner time, and I knew my parents would expect me.

"Yeah," Tom nodded, fishing in his pocket for some cash. "Here... Have a good one, buddy. And thanks again."


That August Saturday would be my last shift at the club. It had been a wild summer, and I still didn't know what I thought of it. I'd had one hell of an introduction to gay sex and was 100% sure that I was into it all: dudes, older men especially, men who'd service me. My time with Mr. Powell had made me realize I had a bunch of sexual exploration ahead, when I could figure out what I really preferred.

Yeah, I had some ethical qualms about prostituting myself for a bunch of rich guys. Seriously, I wasn't happy with myself. But I also had built up a nice kitty of funds from my time at the club. I wasn't sure how I'd use it, but I planned to spend part of it on something fun and gradually put the rest in savings.

A part of me realized I had been fresh meat for the club members, and it was probably a good introduction to gay life, to realize I wouldn't always be the hot young thing. By my last week, I was down to just Mitch Ellis blowing me. I remember being initially disappointed in Mitch's oral skills, but now I felt silly for that. He was eager and appreciative, and always got me off. And he always treated me in a friendly manner on the links and after, almost like a frat buddy.

It was during our last Friday session, the two of us in one of those private cabins off the locker room, as Mitch bobbed up and down frantically between my legs. He was working on taking more and more of my length in deep strokes. He gagged a little but fought through it as he beat his own dick.

"Don't cum," I said, an idea coming to me. "Hold off if you can."

He seemed surprised, maybe even a little confused as he backed off my big hog. "Yeah?" he asked after he swallowed his spit and caught a deep breath. Apparently my size was still a challenge to Ellis.

I nodded. "Stand up," I ordered. After my time with Powell I'd been thinking about sucking another cock. And Mitch Ellis had the perfect starter-size tool. Thick enough and super rigid to seem virile but average in length, not so long as to be a real challenge.

It was like the guy still couldn't believe what was happening as I crouched down and ran my hands up Mitch's furry legs and nuzzled my face against his overheated nuts.

"Um, Matt," he started nervously. "I only have like sixty in cash on me today." He clearly thought I was doing this to charge him extra.

"This one's free, Mitch," I assured him. "Kind of a thank you for the summer." And with that, I took Mitch Ellis's hard dick into my mouth. Before, with Mr. Powell, I had the incredible rush of sucking my first dick but also the fear I didn't know what I was doing. With Mitch, it was the other way around. I had more confidence that I could suck a guy so I just focused on doing my best and on enjoying it.

Mitch enjoyed it, for sure. His fingers played with the hairs on the back of my neck as he urged me up and down his bone. "God, Matt, that's it buddy. Feel so fucking good buddy."

Ellis lasted longer than Powell did. I sucked him for about five minutes and feeling his palpable excitement slowly grow. My mouth and jaw were getting tired but just when I worried I'd have to take a break, I heard the fit 30-something man growl softly above me.

"Oh yeah, man. I'm there, bud," he warned me. Giving me some time to get off. I didn't. "Gonna fucking cum..... fuck!"

And like that I felt Mitch's iron-hard spike throb in my mouth and jet spurts of his briny seed right down my throat. It was awesome.

The businessman returned the favor afterward, and I was super turned on from blowing him. Mitch even choked a little on the size of my load. But he had a huge smile when he finally pulled off, after sucking the dribbles from my cock tip.

"That was hot as hell, buddy," he said. "Gonna miss this bad boy for sure," he added, giving my still firm prick a gentle squeeze. He looked up at me, with his puppy-dog brown eyes. "You sure made this one hell of a summer."

I hiked my shorts back up as Mitch got presentable again, too. Afterward we exchanged numbers and shared a soft kiss.

"Good luck at school, Matt," Mitch said as we walked back out into the locker room. "And if you caddy again next summer, I want to be first on your schedule."

I laughed. "Sure thing, Mitch." It still was a trip to see this muscled straight-ish dude so into sex with me.


The next morning I had an excitement and mixed feelings as I showed up for my last shift. I looked forward to college but would miss this place.

Andrew Carter showed up with one of his ex-athlete friends, Eric, a man about as tall as Mr. Carter and just as muscular but with a real burly build. He surprised me by being a very good golf player, better than Andrew even.

Maybe it was my mood, but I spent that morning lamenting the fact that I hadn't had another chance with Mr. Carter. Fucking him had been a huge rush, the act of topping but also the fact a huge muscular 6'5" athletic god would bend over for me. He looked particularly fine that morning, too, his golf attire trimly hugging his muscle. And Eric was a hunk in his own way. I guessed he was a good ten years older than Mr. Carter and my idle mind imagined them together in bed, sucking, fucking.

I had to repress my fantasies to keep my dick from chubbing up on the job. I had a good feeling Andrew wouldn't mind, but I had no indication of his friend. Eric had a big gleaming wedding band on his left hand. Not that marriage stopped some of the club members from propositioning me.

Andrew seemed focused on his game and his vain attempt to beat his buddy. It was only as they finished up at the 18th that Andrew came up to me and patted my shoulder with almost a bro-buddy kind of squeeze.

"Gonna be hard to find a caddy as good as you, Matt," he said.

"Thanks, sir," I said. Andrew had told me to be on a first name basis, but the caddy deference was hard to shake off. "It's been a great summer job."

Andrew smiled, pausing as if he decided whether he could say what he was going to say. He gave a quick look over to Eric, who was tipping his caddy. Andrew took the chance to whisper low. "Would love another go with you, Matt. Any chance?"

I nodded, my face showing a good deal of excitement at that prospect. "Um, yeah," I replied inarticulately.

"I have lunch plans with Eric," he said. "But maybe you can come by my place later, after your shift."

"You're my last one, Andrew," I said. "Just text me when you're done." I gave him my phone number and felt giddy as he texted me to confirm that I had his.

The ex-NFL-er gave me a sly wink. "Looking forward to it, stud."

It couldn't come fast enough. I didn't bother to change out of my uniform. I'd just gone home for lunch and to wait around for Mr. Carter's text. Finally, around 1:30 I got the word to come on over, along with his address.

Andrew Carter had a big house in an expensive subdivision. More of a McMansion than a mansion but it was real big for just one guy, and as far as I could tell he lived there alone.

I wasn't expecting the sad look on his face when he answered the door, still in his golf clothes, his half sweaty, half dried hair and on his tanned face the raccoon eyes from wearing sunglasses. I could almost feel the heat from his tall muscular body.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he ushered me in. I was now nervous he was having second thoughts. His prerogative but I was gonna get some major blue balls if he didn't have sex.

He gave me a wry smile. "I'm just sad you're leaving, Matt," he said stepping up to me and wrapping his burly arms around my waist. Our height difference meant his hands naturally rested above the round shape of my ass.

"For real, Andrew?" I asked. Sure, it was my hormones speaking in part, but I was swimming with my attraction to the various men I'd hooked up with that summer, and Andrew Carter was front of the pack. "I wasn't sure..."

He nodded. "I guess I got embarrassed I slutted out with you... as you might guess, I don't do that with many guys. Almost never, to be honest."

My hands gripped his midsection, feeling the warmth and the complete firmness of his obliques. "Then I was the lucky dude," I said. "It was hot. I loved it."

"I bet you did," he smirked and leaned down and met me in a kiss. I loved his kissing ability and I responded with a pounding in my chest as my heart beat quickly. I was rock hard in my khaki shorts and I moaned as Andrew's big mitt groped me.

"Fuck yeah, big horse dick. Fuck, buddy I missed this." He looked down at my boner, as if he still couldn't believe my size then hungrily looked back up into my eyes. "OK if I slut out on it again, Matt?"

"Fuck yeah, it's all right," I chuckled. I'd had an idea for a while and decided to go with it. "Only I don't want you to pay me. I just want you to take care of my cock." I'd given it away to Mitch and wanted to do the same for this football stud.

Fuck, that thrilled the big guy. He eagerly undid my shorts and pushed them down. As my hardon was freed he gripped it roughly, running his fist up and down its long length. "I can do that, buddy. Drain these puppies," he added caressing my balls. His suntanned face was gruffly masculine but with an underlying boyish handsomeness in his bright smile.

The big guy crouched down right there, in his living room, and took me in his mouth. He was turned on, I could tell because he scarfed me down, Mitch Ellis style. Impatient, lewd, and hungry.

I was majorly turned on, too, from an afternoon of scoping out Andrew and his beefy older buddy. I wanted this to last but I couldn't hold back for long. Just a minute of head had me nutting hard into Mr. Carter's mouth and throat. Greedily he gulped and slurped my seed down.

"Aw fuck, man," he gasped as he caught his breath with a few deep gasps and held my still rigid meat. "I love your cock. So beautiful." I didn't know Andrew's story. He clearly loved gay sex, but I didn't know if he was bi, down-low, closeted, or just a discreet gay dude. But whatever, he was now kissing the hardness of my tool and working his way gently up to the tip again.

"I wanna fuck you, Mr. Carter," I growled. I'd just nutted but I knew I could go in short order. I was so horny that day.

The ex-jock looked up at me, lust in his brown eyes. "Yeah buddy?" he growled, now stroking my spit-wet cock. "Gonna wreck my hole again?"

"Jesus, yes," I hissed. I'd later learn that "verbal" was the term for Andrew's approach. Right then, I just enjoyed the effect of his horny, over the top words had on my nuts.

The big muscle guy stood up and undid down his navy blue golf shorts, which now fell to the floor. Andrew kicked them off with a big grin. His legs were just incredible, better than Mitch Ellis's knotted tree-trunk thighs even. Sinewed, strong, thick and coated with just the right amount of brown hair, they were more incredible for the man's height. And best of all was the view of his big 250 pounds of muscle and beef stretching out his golf shirt and his normal sized erection poking straight out from underneath the hem.

He had a nice dick, even nicer framed by a really hairy crotch and a nice set of heavy nuts.

"Let's take it to the bedroom," he said.

My dick twitched at the sight, which made the ex-jock laugh. "Yeah you're ready to fuck all right. Come on."

The view of Mr. Carter's backside as I followed him down the hall was just as incredible. His powerful back filled out his golf shirt, whose hem nicely framed his bare ass. Brawny round cheeks. I still couldn't believe this stud let me tap that ass.

I kicked off my shoes and shorts once we got to the large master bedroom. We were both too impatient to remove the rest of our clothes. I lay back in his king sized bed, still with my uniform polo shirt, my socks and ball cap on. Andrew was giving it his all to make sure I was going to enjoy our last time this summer. Andrew sucked me off for a while, giving me just the right amount of pleasure. I'd definitely miss this at college. I had an amazing view of his meaty shoulders filling out his striped golf shirt and the thinning short-cropped hair on his head, which was matted down from the cap he'd worn all afternoon. I could see the little flecks of silver in the otherwise full head of dark brown hair as he made love to my genitals.

Finally the ex-jock spit out my bone, gripping it and massaging it up and down. "Damn," he sighed. He reached over for the lube, and I had a feeling my favorite part of the afternoon was about to come.

Andrew was similarly nude from the waist down, stroking his hard cock as he licked my cock.

"Fuck, even your balls are huge," he gasped as he licked my nuts, one then the other, before popping one into his mouth and lovingly sucking on it. His fingers gripped my bone and pulled it slightly toward him as he then ran his tongue up and down the length. "I don't think I'd ever get sick of this cock," he muttered.

I reached down and massaged my fingers through his hair as he took me into his mouth once more. I'd had a dozen men service me over the summer, some regulars and some one-offs. So I now had a good sample of cocksucking techniques to compare and knew what I liked most. Andrew wasn't the best and actually had a hard time accommodating and getting a rhythm on my big one, but I appreciated the BJ as an appetizer for the main course.

"I don't think I'd ever get sick of you taking care of it," I growled. The sex talk didn't come naturally to me, but I was trying it on for size.

Carter liked my attempt. He spit out my cock and practically stared at the way it filled out his big paw and extended up far beyond his grasp. "Fucking turning me into a slut," the big man growled. He stroked my big rod appreciatively for a few strokes before stuffing my dick back in for more intense sucks.

Finally, he crawled up, his spike of hardon sticking out from his muscled gut. I tried to imagine this guy out on the football field, and the idea turned me on.

"Horny, man?" I asked, leaning back and letting this big guy 20 years older than me lube me up and get me ready for his ass. "I loved fucking you."

That was the right thing to say. "Yeah? I liked it, too, big guy. A whole fucking lot." He leaned down and kissed me as his fingers played with my bone.

Finally he straddled my lap and started sinking down. Starting out like this helped. Andrew was able to open up for my endowment at his own pace and settle into the fuck. Still, the man winced at my size. A lot. He took in several deep breaths as he held his stance steady, a couple of raw inches buried inside his very tight very warm rectum.

"You OK?" I asked. He didn't seem to be enjoying this. It must have been like this before but we'd never fucked face to face.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm OK. Just got a porn star dick buried shoved up my guts... give me a sec. God I want this cock so badly."

I took the opportunity to run my hands along his body. Even with his golf shirt, I enjoyed the feel of his hard middle-aged muscle.

"You like my body?" he asked, surprisingly eager for approval.

"Fuck yeah," I growled, unable to resist pushing my hips to squeeze in another inch of cock, before rapidly retreating. "You're a big stud. I love being inside your hole."

Andrew smiled and I saw his face slowly relax. "There," he announced and started sinking down further.

"Fuck... sit on my cock, man. Big jock needs it, huh?" I wasn't fully confident in the words, but Andrew nodded and sank further down. He was getting turned on.

"You don't even know man.... So big, Matt... Jesus I found myself a horse."

I ran my hand along the man's bulky thighs, feeling the soft man fur. Something about this guy oozed testosterone, yet he was sitting down on my hardon. I wanted to take a chance with the sex talk. I figured I could follow Carter's lead. "You know why I'm not charging you man?"

He shook his head.

"Cause you're a big fucking slut. That's why. Big muscle dude who needs a hard young cock to ride."

I guess I was getting the hang of the sex talk because Andrew started riding my pole excitedly. "Ah yeah, stud. I'm your slut."

I decided to keep at it. "Damn. You couldn't even get undressed, you just had to climb on this teen cock and fuck yourself silly."

"Oh, man, Matt," he moaned. "Oh fuck."

I held onto his thighs now and started fucking up into the man, knowing he was relaxing and opening up for me.

"Oh FUUCK yeah!" he growled. "Fucking take my hole stud."

"Fucking whore," I teased. The man excitedly leaned down and kissed me once more. A heavy kind of kiss that communicated sexual excitement. I fucked deeper now.

"Get on your knees, on all fours," I barked when we finally broke for air. "I want to fuck you like the slut you are." I don't know what gave me the confidence to talk like that, but it was like every cheesy-hot porn video I'd seen was coming back to me as I ordered the big man around. I wasn't big enough to physically push him off me but he complied eagerly, scrambling into position on the bed next to me.

I knelt behind that beautiful ass, taking in the sight of his muscular hairy buns, looking even bigger and meatier framed by his poly-knit shirt. I pumped my dick a couple of times and slapped it in my palm to ensure it was at maximum hardness. Then I pressed right back in.

"Oof..." Andrew hissed. But he took me much more easily this time. "That's it, big boy," Andrew growled as I humped away. My dick prodding in rhythmic time deep inside him and probably bulldozing his prostate with each inward jab. "Fuck me, big guy."

"Aw yeah, slut. You want to get fucked, you got it. Big fucking dick reaming you out."

"Aw yes, sir. Drill me man. Wreck my daddy hole."

Holy short circuit. The minute he said daddy, my composure and restraint left and I instantly started entering my orgasm.

Andrew could tell. With a deep sound crossing a laugh with a growl, he egged me on. "Aw yeah, my son's a real daddy's boy, huh? Come in your daddy's cunt, son. Let it all out. Make me proud, man."

I let it all out, all right. My ejaculation kept coming. It was taboo and a turn on like I hadn't anticipated. I held on tight and pumped my swimmers way up inside this ex-NFL player.

"Nice," he growled then leaned up into my body as he flogged away at his dick, reaching his own climax in my arms as I softly kissed his sweaty, salty neck. It was amazing feeling a big man like this.... 6'5" 250 pounds have an orgasm in my embrace. With my spent but still hard cock buried deep inside him.

We came down from the sex and showered off, softly kissing underneath the water spray in his oversized designer shower. I was still grinning in satisfaction as we toweled off.

"What?" Andrew asked in his deep testosterone-heavy voice.

"I don't know if sex gets better than that, but if it does I'm not sure I can handle it."

He grinned, happy for the compliment. He reached down and cupped my dick, which was now soft and hanging heavy from my crotch. "I'm pretty sure you can handle it, stud."

My prick firmed at his touch.

"Jeez, you ready to go again?" I asked, incredulous. I was pretty sure I needed some recovery time though my dick seemed to have a mind of its own, growing erect in Andrew's paw as he stroked and caressed me.

"Nah," he smiled, looking down at my crotch. "I just love seeing how big you get. Fuck!"

Sure enough by now my rod was throwing stiff and sticking up high from my crotch.

Reluctantly, Andrew let go. "Damn," he sighed as his leg nudged mine. "I can't believe you're leaving in a week."

"Thursday, actually," I said. "Today was my last shift at the club. I'm pretty stoked to be starting college."

He gave me a sheepish expression. It was still a trip to see this big muscular guy get all shy around me. "No pressure, Matt, but maybe I could come down and visit you in the fall? We could hit the links together."

I smiled. "Sounds awesome, Andrew." Our lips met, softly, affectionately. I didn't think I was falling for the guy romantically, but yeah I enjoyed this part of the sex too. Kind of a make believe boyfriend. I had to ask a question that was on my mind. "Um, Andrew? Can I ask something? I'm kind of wondering what your deal is. I mean, are you gay?"

Andrew chuckled. "Wish I knew, buddy. Guess I always considered myself bi. But it was like the minute I hit 40, I sort of became obsessed with dick." He reached over and lovingly stroked my mostly soft meat, which filled out a little at his touch. "Fair warning: you're talking to a walking cliche of a size queen here."

I laughed. "I figured as much," I said. "You're not the only one."

Andrew looked at me intently. "I knew I wasn't the only one. Maybe the idea that I had competition at the club for your services made me want you more." It was a trip to see this butch guy be so honest about his sexual needs.

I leaned back. I was a good sixty pounds lighter than Carter, but I weirdly felt like his peer at that moment. "Well, you got a trump card on them. You're the only one I've fucked," I said.

That seemed to surprise the big guy. "Yeah, buddy?" He looked down at my dick once more then reached to feel it once more. If he kept touching and looking at it I was going to bone up again for sure, despite my heavy cum just then. "I'm pretty sure a number of the guys at the club would bend over for this bad body if you decide to come back next summer."

I hadn't thought ahead that far. But I thought of fucking Mitch Ellis. And Mr. Kleiman the Stock Broker. And Ed, the politician who was a lousy tipper.

"Someone likes that idea," Andrew smiled as he felt and watched my cock firm up, surprisingly quickly. "Yeah, you're a natural top, all right."

With that he scooted down on the bed to get a closer look at my hardening dick. "I don't think I'm up for another fuck, Matt," he said, "But I can't leave you hanging."

And like that Andrew took me in his mouth for a nice, wet goodbye blowjob.


Bright and early Monday morning I showed up at the club to turn in my badge and my laundered uniform polo shirts and to pick up my final paycheck.

Adam, the head caddy, was there and gave me a handshake and a smile. Like me he was chestnut tanned from the time spent outdoors all summer. "You thinking of coming back next summer?" he asked. "I'm sure the members would love to have you. You were our most popular request," he smirked.

I wasn't sure if Adam was insinuating what I thought he was, but I played it cool. "That's good," I said. "Certainly kept me busy all summer."

Adam looked at me, trying to decide if he could be up front. "Well, I won't be sad to see my competition going. Cahill was my best client. Powell, too."

Color me surprised. No wonder Adam had given me the heads up at the start of the summer. He spoke from real experience.

"Well you're a real hot dude," I admitted. Adam was too, he was in his mid 20s and kind of had that big-bro appeal to me. About my height and a little more muscular but still young and trim in his build. Cute as fuck, too. "I am sure your regulars will be happy to have you again."

Adam smiled. "Thanks, man. I gotta girlfriend, actually. But the money's too good, you know? And it is kind of an ego boost."

"Tell me about it," I said. I felt a little sad Adam wasn't gay - it would have been fun to ask him out on a date or something. But I was heading off to college anyway. And it was cool just to have another caddy to talk with this stuff about. "I kept telling myself I was gonna stop charging for the extra service, but I only managed to this week."

Adam laughed. "I was pretty much like that my whole first summer here. Kept telling myself I'd say no, and then I'd coming home each night an extra hundred dollars richer." He smiled and gave me another inquisitive, almost conspiratorial look. "Listen, Matt... I know Mr. Bennett has expressed an interest in you. If you want a few easy bucks for the road, I can set something up."

I knew I should say no. I had plenty of cash from my summer here at East Hills, and I'd decided I'd stop being what was effectively a high-class hustler. Besides, I didn't even know what Mr. Bennett looked like. But at that moment, I admitted to myself that I liked it all. Liked charging these men to go down on me. Liked the way they loved my cock. Liked being the young caddy stud.

"Yeah," I replied to Adam, trying not to sound eager about it. "I'd be up for that."


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