Diesel

By Allen Giffen

Published on Dec 31, 2003

Gay

DIESEL - Chapter 7 - The Best Man

"Fifty bucks, in my pocket, now, or I'm gone," said Diesel as he stood spreadeagled over the toilet in the stall of the men's room at the Tampa-St. Pete's airport, leaning on the wall. The guy had been eyeing him from across the aisle the whole flight from Dallas. There was a delay now getting the luggage to baggage claim. Diesel had been doing some stretches as if relieved to be out of his cramped seat on the plane, when actually it was for the benefit of what he knew would be his next catch. He'd taken off the long sleeve paisley shirt and was left with the black t-shirt that hugged his massive chest, squeezed his upper arms, and tucked neatly into his faded jeans. He figured the guy was a pec man, and Diesel knew that his were a 5 star meal.

The guy followed Diesel into the bathroom after the announcement about the delay. Diesel had the t-shirt pulled up over his head and behind his neck and was slowly rubbing his hands over his torso while the guy stared. "Fifty...and this is yours."

The guy quickly pulled out the cash and shoved it into Diesel's front pocket. He slowly touched Diesel on the sides of his chest and began caressing the muscles there. He shut his eyes and let out some air - popped his eyes open when he sensed movement, only to be immediately hypnotized by Diesel's pecs as he made them dance up and down. He moved his hands to the bouncing masses of muscle and leaned his forehead on Diesel's skin just below the pecs. Diesel loved the way the guy's hot breaths blew on his abs.

Diesel stopped flexing his pecs. The guy just kept kneading them and moaning softly. He started kissing Diesel between his pecs and then began licking his way down to Diesel's abs. Once there, his tongue played with Diesel's treasure trail till it was completely wet. His open mouth travelled around the abs, sucking them anytime his lips made complete contact with skin. The moans were getting louder.

After a few minutes of this, Diesel jerked the guy up by his armpits, locked lips with him and shoved his tongue in the guy's mouth before he knew what had hit him. The guy wrapped his arms around Diesel and started frantically pressing his crotch into Diesel's basket. Diesel could tell the guy was getting close. Just before he got there, Diesel grabbed the guy's ass and with all his might, crushed their crotches together. Diesel could feel the guy pumping out his cum as he heard the accompanying rushes of air from his lungs. He pushed the guy off of him, not just because he was done, but he didn't want the guy's cum staining his jeans. Diesel switched places with the guy, sat him down on the closed toilet seat lid, and opened the stall door. He stuck three fingers in the guy's open mouth which had drool dripping out of it, rubbed the fingers around, took them out, rubbed his saliva covered fingers all over and in one of the guy's ears causing him to shudder, and said, "Don't forget to clean up, guy," and left.

It was another 5 minutes till the luggage arrived. As Diesel walked off with his backpack in place, he saw the guy looking pretty dishevelled, holding his carryon carefully in front to cover the fresh cum stain, and standing off to the side staring at the moving pieces of luggage. Diesel smiled and gave him a salute.

His cousin Mike was getting married and he'd asked Diesel to be a groomsman. They weren't really that close, but did see each other kind of regularly while growing up, and they were from a very small family. Mike's parents were paying for all of Diesel's expenses as they had always liked Diesel a lot and were happy that a family member would be in the bridal party. Mike told him that the rest of the wedding party were high school and college friends of his fianc‚'s and his, and that he really wanted Diesel to be a part of it.

Mike, an only child, was about 10 years older than Diesel and always enjoyed the visits from his younger cousin. Diesel had spent his whole life in Texas, Mike in Florida, but they kept in touch while growing up. Mike had been a jock through school and even held a couple of records, but had recently admitted, hearing of Diesel's sporting accomplishments in Texas, that Diesel was now a much better athlete than Mike had ever been. They actually hadn't seen each other in a couple of years.

Diesel took a cab to Mike's parents' house where he'd be staying the first night. The rest of the time he'd be at the Marriott where the reception was being held. Diesel's aunt told him she'd leave the key for him to get in the house as she had done in the past, since she and her husband were at work. When he got there, a note on the door told him to ring the bell. He set his backpack down and pressed the buzzer. A minute later a guy opened the door, threw his arms around Diesel, yelling, "Bulldog!" and pulled him into the house.

Diesel's first realization was that he was being hugged really close by somebody who was really built - and it felt good. Then he realized who the guy was.

"Steve?" he asked as he pulled away, drinking in the hunk in front of him.

"Sure as shit! Jesus Christ, you've grown up...and you're enormous," said Steve as he wrapped an arm around Diesel, dragging him to Mike's old room where Diesel would be staying. He had also grabbed Diesel's backpack, threw it on the bed, and sat down in the computer chair. "It's been, what, 10 years? Fuck, you are as big as a redwood! What's in that Texas water?"

It all came back to Diesel. That summer between 4th and 5th grade when he visited Mike's family for a couple of weeks, also the summer between Mike's junior and senior year of high school. Mike and his best friend Steve had been made co-captains of the wrestling team for senior year. They spent part of that summer wrestling with each other to get better and to prove to the coach that he made the right decision. Diesel had paid very close attention to their practices and then started giving pointers to each of them. He also got hardons watching the two high school hunks rolling around on each other. Diesel thought that it must feel really good to do that with another guy.

Steve found it very entertaining that the little towhead was giving them tips. Steve started jokingly pushing the kid and telling him to shut up. It became their running joke - Diesel would make a comment and Steve would either immediately or eventually walk up to Diesel, give him a shove, and say, "Clam up, Bulldog." Steve nicknamed him that when he first heard his name and said it reminded him of a truck and the bulldog logo on Mac trucks. Diesel was really enjoying the physical contact with the hunky teen. Steve was already 6' tall, straight black hair, dark brown eyes, and hard muscles everywhere. Diesel was about 5', but pretty solidly built, actually for a kid his age, he was very solidly built. You could see that his body was about to explode into puberty.

One day Steve came over to practice and Mike wasn't there - his mom had taken him to some forgotten appointment for something. Diesel challenged Steve to a match. Steve laughed it off, but Diesel kept it up. Steve decided that it would be fun to show this cocky little kid that he had too big of a mouth. He didn't change into his singlet, just took his t-shirt off. Diesel took his t- shirt off and was wearing a pair of skimpy shorts compared to Steve's jeans.

They circled each other, Diesel mimicking all the moves he remembered watching; there was a hunger in Diesel's eyes that stirred something in Steve's gut.

Steve quickly found out that Diesel was a lot stronger and scrappier than he expected a little kid to be. Since Diesel knew none of the real holds, he ended up grabbing Steve all over the place.

Steve sometimes got a hardon during a match - it happened to all wrestlers sometime - and for teenagers when their hormones were at peak flow, it happened a lot. He was surprised that grappling with this small, but strong blondie was getting him especially aroused. Of course it didn't help that Diesel's hands more than once grabbed at Steve's crotch or ass, and seemed to be rubbing him all over the place all the time.

For Diesel, it was heaven. He'd never done anything that had made him feel this good. He loved the fact that he was exerting himself physically, and grew more and more excited as his body made contact with the muscleteen.

At one point, Diesel was on top of Steve, and started grinding his crotch against Steve's. More out of shock, Steve flipped Diesel over and ended up lying on Diesel's back, his steel hard cock ended up docked along Diesel's asscrack. He had been afraid of cumming while Diesel was pressing their crotches together, did the flip, and then realized he hadn't made the situation any easier on himself. Diesel started laughing and squeezing his asscheeks together, squeezing the hard tube between them. Steve lost it, reached down and grabbed Diesel around his shoulders and matched him thrust for squeeze. He shot his boyjuice in his jeans, round after round, with accompanying groans.

"Did you pee on me?" asked Diesel, still laughing. Steve jumped up and ran out the door telling Diesel to tell Steve that he'd see him the next day. Diesel stayed on the floor, thrusting himself into the carpeting. He kept pressing his dick into the rug and made it to a climax - another dry one - but the most powerful he'd ever felt.

After Diesel hit puberty, it was at least a year before he stopped seeing Steve in his mind each time he had sex or beat off. They hadn't seen each other since then. And here he was, back where it all started.

"Speaking of water, I'm gonna take a swim. Join me after you unpack," said Steve as he walked out of the bedroom. Diesel watched Steve's asscheeks grind against each other with each step. Steve remembered what had happened too, but he hadn't thought about it in quite a while. Sure, he thought about it while beating off for a few months after it happened, remembering how his dick felt rubbing along the kid's ass trench. And here Bulldog was, all grown up. Well, maybe not grown up, but certainly muscled up. And he was hot, thought Steve...for a guy.

A half hour later, as Steve stood at the shallow end resting after putting himself through some strenuous laps, he heard the door slide open behind him. Next thing he knew, Diesel was squatted behind him, hands on his shoulders, with his crotch pressed into Steve's back. Steve pulled away.

"Easy, Steve, I wasn't going to do anything," said Diesel as he stood up and walked down to the diving board at the opposite end. Steve gawked at the muscled body as it walked by, clad only in a pretty small pair of white speedos. He stared at the ass, remembering how his dick felt there, then tried to shake off the thought. Diesel stepped out onto the diving board, and then did a perfect dive into the pool. Steve watched the muscled body, with the largest dick he had ever seen crammed inside a pair of speedos, shoot up in the air and then enter the pool almost silently.

Diesel swam the length of the pool underwater, surfacing about 2 feet in front of Steve. The water was 3' deep there so when Diesel stood facing Steve, 2/3 of their bodies were out of the water. Streams of water ran down Diesel's bunches of muscles. While Diesel shook his head, Steve stole a glance at his crotch and took in a breath as he saw the huge trunk of a dick, and two melon sized balls clearly outlined and pressing to get out of the speedos. Diesel of course had purposely chosen the white pair - the ones he'd cut the inner pouch lining out of so that when wet, they became virtually transparent. He wanted Steve. He wanted to continue from the moment he'd left off a decade ago feeling Steve shooting his seed while on top of him. He wanted to climax again like he did then, but this time shoot a huge load.

"It's a tradition. The first time I visited here, Mike threw me in the pool from the diving board, and that's the way I always go...head first into the deep end...know what I mean, Steve," asked Diesel taking a small step forward.

"Hey, Diesel, I'm straight - engaged - here with my fianc‚. I like you and all, but..."

Diesel fell backward in the water, submerging for a few seconds, and then came up floating on his back, splayed out in front of Steve, using his arms to move slowly in the water. "Steve, I'm not here to challenge your manhood. I'm glad you've found a woman you want to spend your life with. Just wanted you to know that what we did 10 years was a good thing for me. I knew I liked guys and that helped me come closer to accepting it. Sure, I fuck women too, but when it comes to hot and dirty sex, there's nothing like what you can do with another guy."

"We were just kids, then, Diesel. And you were a LITTLE kid at that!"

Diesel stood up, inches from Steve, "I'm not little anymore. I'm not gonna pressure you, but anytime you want any of this," as he gestured to himself, "it's yours."

The next day everyone attending the wedding was invited to a volleyball game at the beach. Of course, it was mostly young people who went. Diesel, Steve and Mike ended up on the same team - skins. Diesel was a hit with everyone, not only because of his skill playing, but he also had the hottest body on the beach - lots of people stopped to watch him as he moved in the sand. He sweated a lot in the heat, and when he jumped, quite a few people held their breath watching his weighty pecs bounce around. The rest of his muscles would bunch and bulge as he dove to hit the ball, jumped to spike it, or hopped up to pound it in a serve, and the crowd loved it. As guys always do, they'd pat each other on the back/shoulder/ass frequently either in encouragement or congratulations for a good serve, hit or save. Steve found himself touching Diesel and really liking it.

After the game, they used the public shower at the beach to get the sand off. Mike kept talking about how happy he was that all his friends were together for his wedding. All Steve could do was try and keep his eyes from straying toward Diesel. He finally gave in and was rewarded with the sight of the largest and most perfectly shaped dick and balls he'd ever seen. As the water streamed down Diesel's body, it coursed all over his hanging stalk of manmeat with that flared head looking like a fireman's helmet. Diesel's balls were proportionally large, and hung almost to the tip of his sizable hose. Diesel was tanned all over with the exception of where the tiny speedos would cover him. Steve kept staring at Diesel's cock and balls trying to wrap his mind around the fact that they could be encased in speedos at times. When Diesel turned his back to Steve and started soaping his muscular ass, Steve looked away realizing he was getting hard.

That night, the bachelor party consisted of a stripper coming to one of the hotel rooms where all the guys had been invited, including the fathers of the bride and groom.

The room was packed. You could cut the testosterone in the air with a knife. A few of the guys had gotten high on the balcony, most just got drunk. The stripper finally arrived with her "accompanist", actually a guard to make sure things didn't get out of hand, and who handled the boom box. Once the groom was pointed out to her, the boom box came to life, and the stripper started moving slowly toward Mike. The crowd of men was quiet at first, but gradually started mumbling encouragements, which quickly turned into hoots of support.

Diesel positioned himself behind Steve, both near the back of the crowd of men watching the stripper. He knew Steve was pretty drunk and relaxed; he also knew that Steve was hot for him, but not as hot as he was for Steve. Diesel was wearing a white shirt that stretched across his torso and back and a pair of tight faded jeans. The whole evening, Steve had been stealing glances toward Diesel. They became more frequent and longer, the more he drank. Diesel decided to make his move. He'd been standing near Steve, and moved up right behind him as the stripper started her dance on Mike. All eyes were on the stripper. Steve and Diesel were near the back of the crowd of lust filled men. Diesel moved forward till his hose pressed on Steve's ass, he put a hand on each side of Steve's waist. Steve was staring at the stripper.

"Bulldog here...with his bone," whispered Diesel into Steve's ear as he pressed against Steve to make his point.

"What the fuck are you doing?" whispered Steve in a panic, pulling forward. Diesel held him fast. The crowd seemed oblivious to the muscle studs pressing against each other; all their focus was on the stripper squatting onto Mike who was on his back on the floor.

"Payin' back a favor, Stevie," said Diesel as he slipped his right hand forward inside the loose waist of Steve's pants, moving his paw slowly down through the pubic hair to the hardening stalk.

"Stop," squeaked Steve as he grabbed Diesel's right wrist.

"You don't want to do that, Steve, let go. Watch Mike. Watch the girl. See. She's sitting on Mike's crotch. Now she's bending over and kissing him. Look. See their tongues? See her ass moving? See Mike pushing into her ass?" Steve let go of Diesel's wrist, his arms dropped to his side as he gave in to the pleasure. Diesel kept his head next to Steve's, whispering in his ear, right hand firmly squeezing and pumping Steve's dick, left hand having moved to the center of Steve's abs, holding him in place. Diesel kept up the pressure against Steve's ass too, his dick getting firmer and firmer pressed into Steve's crack.

"Look, now she's sitting up. See how they're looking at each other like two animals in heat? What's her ass doing? Look! It's rubbing up and down his cock...real slow.

See how Steve just let's her do that? Look at his face? See that look of tense pleasure? Imagine an ass rubbing...up and down your hard dick...up and down..." continued the whispered monologue into Steve's ear.

The crowd erupted in a cheer as Mike came in his pants. At the same time Steve hollered as his cum shot down the inside of his pant leg, Diesel had stopped pumping the rod and had switched to gently squeezing it, helping the cum on its frantic escape to freedom. Diesel pulled his hand out of Steve's pants, stepped back and started cheering and clapping his hands over his head, joining the group cheer.

Steve did his best to come to his senses, realizing that he'd just had sex with another guy; in front of dozens of men he'd played football and basketball with in school. And he enjoyed it! He turned slowly to look at Diesel. The crowd kept up its cheering. Diesel had his right hand in the air moving as if he were getting ready to throw a lasso, and his left hand pressed on his crotch as he mouthed to Steve, "There's more where that came from."

"Steve, last thing I'll ask you to do as my best man. Can you get my cuz up to his room? He's more wasted than I've ever seen him. His room is next to yours, right?" asked Mike at the end of his wedding day.

Everything had gone off without a hitch. All the weather worries about having an outdoor ceremony were for naught. Diesel turned into the hit of the reception. About a half hour after the dancing started after dinner, Diesel had gone to his room to change from his tux. When he walked back in the hotel reception room, the crowd cheered. He stood there, hands on his hips with a bright white smile, in full Texas gear - beat up but shiny black cowboy boots, black Lee jeans hugging him in all the right places, perched above his sizable crotch was a huge silver belt buckle in the shape of a steer's head complete with ivory horns, a white long sleeve shirt with mother of pearl snap buttons and black piping, topped with a huge cowboy hat that only a true Texan could carry off.

By the end of the evening, just about every woman had danced with him. Not only was he the hottest guy there, but he knew moves on the dance floor that the women really appreciated, and most of the men envied. When he wasn't dancing, men dragged him to the bar, happy to be around a guy who exuded so much charisma. And of course a few just wanted the chance to touch his hard body somewhere, anywhere.

"Sure, Mike. I put my passed out fianc‚ to bed an hour ago...sorry about that by the way. Guess I can handle Bulldog just fine. You have a good time on your honeymoon, bud, I love you," said Steve as he pulled Mike into a full embrace, and kissed him on his cheek. He pulled away, "And I want to know how many times you get the gold medal...OK?" he said with a smile. Steve and Mike had had a joke going since high school that if they were able to fuck a girl three times in one night, it meant a gold medal...twice was silver, once was bronze.

Steve grabbed Diesel's hat from a nearby table and scanned the room, spying Diesel slumped into a stool at the bar. Standing on either side of him were two uncles of Mike's.

"Hey, bulldog, time for you to go to the doghouse," said Steve as he approached the trio. As the two uncles moved away, Steve realized they'd been groping Diesel. One had pulled his hand away from inside Diesel's thigh, the other had pulled his from inside Diesel's shirt. They nodded nervously toward Steve as he approached. Diesel's head bent forward, blonde curls dangling, his eyes barely open.

"He's completely out of it," one said, "we were just about holding him up on the stool."

"Thanks, guys, I'll take over now," said Steve as he picked up one of Diesel's arms and wrapped it around his neck. He noticed that most of the button snaps on Diesel's shirt were popped open and the skin around one of his nipples was a dark red. "C'mon, Diesel, time for bed." The two men watched Diesel move sluggishly away from them, tripping over his boots as he tried to walk. Steve smirked as he noticed their hardons.

"I had a fuckin' great time...didchoo, Stevie?" asked Diesel in the elevator, his face just a couple of inches from Steve's. "Yes, I di...," Steve started to answer but was cut short as Diesel gave him a very wet open mouthed kiss.

"Slow down, cowboy, you're wasted," laughed Steve as he pulled away. "You gotta sleep this off."

"Stevie, Stevie, I want you to fuck me. Please? Will you fuck me? Please, Stevie? Fuck your bulldog," pleaded the very drunk Diesel as he groped Steve in the elevator. If Diesel had been sober, Steve wouldn't have stood a chance defending himself. As it was, it took quite a bit of strength to push Diesel away. He didn't really want to though...and the thought of this hunk asking for it was a real temptation for Steve.

The elevator door opened; Steve dragged Diesel into his room, and set him down in a big leather armchair while he went back to shut the door and turn on a light. The switch he hit turned on one of the smaller lights above the bed, giving the room a dull warm glow.

"You are one motherfuckin' sight, Bulldog," signed Steve as he stood over the very drunk Diesel, spread out on the chair, who smiled up dumbly at him. Steve discovered that sitting on the floor gave him the best leverage for pulling off Diesel's boots.

"Be careful of his horns," Diesel giggled as Steve worked to unbuckle the leather belt. He unbuttoned the pants.

"Help me a bit, Diesel, and at least lift your ass up," said Steve as he pulled to get Diesel's pants off. Diesel shifted slightly in the chair, mumbling. Panting from the effort of pulling the pants off, Steve stood over the now passed out Diesel. He still had his shirt on, but all the buttons were unsnapped and it spread out over his arms, which were hanging over the arms of the chair. He'd slid down some on the leather, his ass perched on the chair's edge. He was wearing a jockstrap. "Boy, those old guys must have been working you over pretty good," Steve said, almost to himself, as he noticed a sizable wet spot at what would be the tip of Diesel's fat cock. "You were giving them a show and you didn't even know it."

Though Steve was in really good shape, Diesel's dead weight made it impossible for him to get him to the bed. He finally figured Diesel would be fine sleeping in the chair.

The faint light cast warm shadows over Diesel's body. His abs looked like six evenly matched stones, lined up two by two, you'd see in a shallow stream. His relaxed sleeping face, framed with blonde curls, reminded Steve of the Diesel he remembered from a decade before.

But that dick. No, that wasn't a dick from 10 years ago! This thing was massive. Steve knelt, mesmerized by its size...envious. No woman had ever complained that Steve was small, he wasn't, but Diesel had him beat...and he was still soft! Steve touched the cloth covered dick...had to assure himself that it was real. The warmth surprised him. Steve closed his eyes and remembered how Diesel's hand had felt on his dick just two nights before. He pulled his hand away suddenly, then instantly realizing that all he had felt was Diesel's dick stirring to life, not Diesel waking up. He looked up at Diesel's face and drank in the relaxed smile spread out on it. His hand went back to the warm sausage.

With both hands, he grasped the top of the jock, pulled it slowly down, and hooked it under Diesel's cock and balls. Steve remembered it from the shower after the volleyball game. It seemed bigger up close. Without being able to stop himself, one of Steve's hands fondled Diesel's balls, the other tried unsuccessfully to wrap itself around the dick's girth. Diesel moaned and spread he legs further apart, still completely out of it.

Steve's face moved closer, marvelling at the patterns the veins made on the stalk and how some moved and some didn't as he worked his fist up and down its heated solidness. Diesel's smell was intoxicating - a mixture of piss, sweat and an earthy dankness. A pearl of precum appeared at the slit like a balloon. Without thinking about it, Steve's tongue shot out and snatched it - sharp...salty. Diesel's dick had been hardening slowly and was now gradually rising. Steve couldn't believe that it was getting even bigger. Grabbing the dick with both hands, he began giving it small kisses around the head. This quickly changed to open mouthed, saliva filled suctions all over the head, length and balls. Steve was in a frenzy. His mouth moved at lightening speed, as did his fists milking the firehose.

Diesel's breathing suddenly quickened. Steve pulled his face away, staring at the one eyed angry red monster in front of him, biceps and triceps bulging as he furiously worked the length of Diesel's dick. With a huge outtake of breath from Diesel and a tensing of most of his muscles, the geyser erupted. The first shot went over one of Steve's shoulders, landing on the carpeting looking like a long fat white gummy worm. The next 5 shots hit Steve in the hair and face, the last few dribbled onto Steve's hands as they firmly held onto the spraying giant.

Steve was shaking, barely realizing what he'd just done. Diesel had been sweating and had slid down further in the chair so his ass was now hanging off of it. Steve cleaned himself and Diesel up as well as he could, using two of the hotel hand towels. He took the time to wash his face with soap and water, and ran water through his hair with his fingers, attempting to clean out the cum. Before he left the room, he grabbed Diesel under his arms from behind the chair and pulled him up as far as he could. He'd pulled Diesel's jockstrap back into place and snapped a few of the shirt buttons together. Without really knowing why, he kissed Diesel on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "See ya 'round, Bulldog," and turned the light off as he left the room to go next door and crawl into bed with his passed out fianc‚.

"Bulldog? It's me...Steve," came the voice over the cell phone.

"Steve! Good to hear from you. Where are you? To what do I owe the pleasure of getting a call from you now, what, two months after Mike's wedding?"

"I'm at the Dallas airport on a 6 hour layover and figured I'd give you a call to pass the time."

"What? You're wasting time on the phone calling me right now. You get your Florida ass in a cab and get over to my place pronto so I can show you some Texas hospitality!"

Diesel had been working out in his basement workout room when the phone rang. After giving Steve directions to his house, he ran around cleaning up the place a bit and then went back downstairs to finish his routine.

He hadn't remembered getting back to his hotel room that night, but did discover the cum crusted towels in his room the morning after the wedding. He figured some sexed up bellboy had tried to give him a blow job or beat himself off while using Diesel's body. It was 2 weeks later when he found out from his cousin Mike that Steve was the one who had brought him up to his room. That was when he told Mike to tell Steve that he should give him a call the next time he was in Dallas for business.

"Steve!" yelled Diesel as he grabbed Steve after opening his front door, dragged him in and gave him a bear hug. "Lemme look at you!" Steve was dressed in a white buttoned down shirt and grey slacks. "My, don't you look...workmanlike," smiled Diesel.

Diesel stood there in a faded yellow nylon wife beater tucked into a pair of blue nylon workout shorts. He body was covered in sweat. He'd been working out for 45 minutes and was pumped pretty well with veins popping up all over his body. Diesel pulled Steve down onto the couch and put a cold longneck in his hand.

Steve put the bottle down on the coffee table. "Diesel...I...I," he stammered.

Diesel put a hand on each of Steve's shoulders, "Steve, like I said before, I'm not here to question your manhood. I want you to get married; I want you to have a happy life. But I also find you incredibly hot and would really like to fuck around with you...a lot...and often," he said with a big smile.

"Diesel, what I was trying to say was that I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the wedding. I dream about you all the time. My fianc‚ says that our sex together has kicked up to a whole new level. It's because I'm thinking of you."

They stared at each other. Diesel pulled Steve forward and gently kissed his nose. He moved his mouth to each of Steve's eyes, giving each closed lid a kiss. He then opened his mouth wide and found Steve's mouth like a heat seeking missile finding its target. Their tongues slammed into each other as they moaned in unison. They feverishly worked at getting each other's clothes off. Soon they were both naked and groping each other as they moved their mouths over each others faces and necks.

"C'mon, let's go downstairs," said Diesel as he grabbed Steve's arm and pulled.

"I want to just look at you," said Diesel as he stood in front of Steve, once downstairs on the mats. Diesel walked around Steve taking in the taut muscular body. He stopped, facing Steve, took hold of Steve's half erect dick, "I've been dreaming about this thing...a lot." He knelt down and sucked in Steve's dick in a New York second. Steve grabbed Diesel's hard shoulders to steady himself. Diesel rubbed his hands up and down the backs of Steve's thighs as he sucked and hummed on the now rock hard dick.

Diesel released his catch, crawled over to a weight bench, stayed on his knees, grabbed the bench, looked backward toward Steve and panted, "My ass...my ass...get me wet." He pulled his hard cheeks apart so Steve could see the target.

Steve first fell onto Diesel's back so that his chest made maximum contact with Diesel's hot skin. As if by memory, after a decade, his dick wedged into Diesel's asscrack. He began kissing and then almost chewing on Diesel's back muscles. Diesel reached around with his arms, making contact with the back of Steve's legs, just below the ass. Diesel pulled on Steve's legs, helping him as his mouth journeyed over Diesel's muscular back. Steve began to slide down Diesel's back as Diesel let go. Steve's tongue and mouth played with a shock of brown hair Diesel had growing at the base of his spine, just above his ass. Steve used his tongue to gather the hair together, gripped it with his teeth, and pulled up. Diesel hissed in pain and desire.

Steve's mouth moved between the cheeks. As his mouth moved south, his nose followed; soon both orifices were lost in the trench.

"Oh, God, yes...that's it...more...more...more," grunted Diesel as Steve's tongue jabbed at his asshole. It winked open; Steve's tongue took the bait and shot forward.

Diesel groaned as the hot wet tongue moved along the soft flesh just inside his hole.

"Use a finger!" Diesel yelled, amazed at how aroused he was. Steve pulled away, jammed a hand between Diesel's cheeks and began running his four finger tips up and down, one of them always making contact with the winking hole. He stopped moving. The only noise was the two of them panting. Sweat covered them both. They made eye contact in the mirrors on the walls of the workout room. Diesel gave a short nod, Steve shoved his fuck finger into Diesel's asshole - all the way.

"Aaaiiiiaaaahhhh!" screamed Diesel, and clamped down on the intruder. Steve panicked, thinking he had really hurt Diesel and scared because be couldn't pull his finger out.

"Diesel!"

"Its OK...its OK...let me...get used to it," Diesel whispered. "In and out," Diesel instructed as he loosened his grip. Steve moved his finger slowly out, almost all the way, and then slid it back in, just as slowly. He did it again, and again, and again, faster, faster, and faster.

After a few minutes, Diesel grabbed Steve's wrist, "Enough!" and pushed both of them away from the weight bench. Diesel threw a couple of small thick mats on the mat covering the workout room floor, laid on his back near a wall with the small mats under his lower back, propping his ass and crotch into the air. Steve stood, panting, amazed at the speed with which Diesel was moving.

"OK, buddy, mark your bulldog!" said Diesel as he bent his legs so his feet were flat on the ground and his arms spread out at his sides. Steve walked up between Diesel's legs and stared down at the blonde muscleboy spread out before him. Diesel seemed close to hyperventilating. Steve took in the wild but focused look in Diesel's eyes, his blonde curls now plastered to his head with sweat, the arms laying out like a series of boulders on either side of the torso, the meaty pecs quivering like jello as Diesel took each ragged breath, his abs half hidden by the hard dick resting on them, which was straining to reach the cleft between Diesel's pecs. Steve put a hand on each of Diesel's knees and lowered himself so that the torpedo could lock onto its target. He squeezed lube all over his aching cock and rubbed it into Diesel's ass cleft.

Steve stared at Diesel, sweat dripping from his chin onto Diesel's churning balls. The tip of Steve's cock kissed Diesel's asshole. "Lemme in, Bulldog," he hissed as he pushed. Steve's head slid in, both men cried out in pleasure. Steve pushed more. And more.

And more. Suddenly Diesel's mouth opened wide in a silent scream as Steve hit Diesel's prostate. Precum literally shot out of Diesel's dick up between his pecs. Then suddenly, Steve was home. No pussy he'd ever been in was this hot or this tight. He lost control for a moment and his hands slipped down off Diesel's knees, landing on Diesel's abs. Diesel grunted from the pressure.

Steve pulled out slowly, his mouth twisting in the agony of pleasure as he experienced the walls of Diesel's insides caressing his cock on its journey. He slowly slid back in, feeling the same exquisite pressures. His brain was on fire.

"Faster," said Diesel, grabbing Steve's wrists hard until Steve looked at him, he added, "tell me before you cum." Steve started sawing back and forth, going as slow as his lust would allow him, seeing by the look on Diesel's face, the pleasure it was giving him. After a few minutes, he couldn't resist the temptation to go faster and faster and faster. His hands slid on Diesel's sweaty heaving abs, and he grabbed onto Diesel's pecs and squeezed hard.

"Diesel...Diesel...Diesel!" yelled Steve. Diesel suddenly realized that Steve was close to shooting. He grabbed Steve's ass and stopped him while his dick was all the way in, pinning Steve to him and squeezing his ass muscles hard.

"Ooowwww!" bellowed Steve, "what the fuck are you doing?" Steve sat up, grabbing Diesel's knees again.

"Trust me, Steve. Look at me...keep looking at me," said Diesel, as if to hypnotize Steve. Steve gradually came back from the edge of his orgasm, and locked eyes with Diesel.

"Uuuggghhh," said Steve as he felt a sudden pressure on his dick, "ooooohhhhhhh," then came out of his mouth as he felt another. Diesel was using his inner ass muscles to milk Steve's cock! Steve had never felt anything like it in his life. Diesel concentrated, staring at Steve. It was as if his asshole had turned into a machine, pumping the invading log. Steve couldn't comprehend the waves of pleasure rushing through his body. All he could see was the muscular body he was attached to heaving and rumbling in its efforts to please him. He wanted Diesel to feel what he was feeling...and he grabbed Diesel's cock, lifting it off Diesel's abs. Steve started pumping the cock.

Diesel focused on working his ass muscles to pleasure Steve and tried to ignore the building pressure in his own cock.

The men screamed in unison. Steve was the first to shoot - deep into the furnace of Diesel's insides. Diesel immediately followed with a volley that shot over his head.

They worked in harmony, one shooting after the other...over and over.

Steve fell forward, exhausted, the side of his face landing between Diesel's pecs, causing the pool of Diesel's hot cum lying there to splash outward. The men sucked in oxygen and forced out carbon dioxide as if their lives depended on it. As the breathing slowed, Steve lifted his cum covered face off of Diesel's chest. His hard dick remained in the oven.

Could I interest you in a little game, Bulldog?" asked Steve as he watched Diesel lick at the cum around his mouth.

"Sure."

"Its called 'Going For The Gold.'"

"Sounds like a goal. What are the rules?"

"You'll figure them out," said Steve as he pulled out and then jammed his dick back into Diesel.

NOTE: I wanted to thank those of you who have given me feedback on my Diesel stories so far. I appreciate your telling me the parts of the stories that you like. Please feel free to give me suggestions for situations that Diesel could find himself in. Tell me things you'd like to see happen. Allen at tutus69@hotmail.com

Next: Chapter 8


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