Shaved

Published on Mar 31, 1993

Gay

Controls

SHAVED

I'd been out riding my bicycle that Saturday, intent on logging the 35 mile round trip to Great Falls and back averaging 23 miles per hour. It always seemed like an easily attainable goal until you hit Old Angler's Inn and began climbing the knee-killing hill that crested and then plunged you down into the Maryland side of the park. Out of breath and sweating like a mint julep in August, I stopped at the concession stand for a bag of trail mix and a fill-up for my water bottle. I made a quick pit stop in the men's room, and as I was exiting I nearly ran head-on into him.

He was a big man - my 5'10" 150 lb. body was dwarfed by his 6'2" 230 lb. mass. His blue lycra bicycle riding shorts were working overtime supporting a bulging basket and muscular ass, and his tank top shirt showed off a hairy chest and pink nipples that occasionally showed through. His thighs and calves were well formed and proportional, and it was obvious that he was a well-tuned athlete. I stared for a few seconds, then said "excuse me" and let him by. Outside I mounted my bicycle and started tightening the pedal straps around my shoes. I'd have to ride hard to maintain a high average, but I decided to linger a bit until the gorgeous giant exited the men's room.

A couple of minutes passed before he stepped out. He walked over to where I was leaning against a wall and grabbed hold of his mountain bicycle. I could already tell that we were very different men - he was built like a linebacker, I was built like a bicycle racer; he rode the rough trails on a mountain bicycle, I skimmed the streets on a racer. But he was so attractive that I had to speak to him.

"Where did you ride from?" I asked.

"From Georgetown," he answered. "I rode up the C&O canal trail. How about you?"

"From Dupont Circle, but I didn't ride the C&O - too rough. I took MacArthur Boulevard."

"Yea, I ride that trail sometimes," he said, "from Dupont Circle," then grinned a look of innocence that completely disarmed me. "Usually I ride it on Sunday when the traffic is light."

"Me too," I agreed. I would agree to just about anything with this guy.

"Well, looks like you're ready to head off. Have a nice ride back."

"Yea, okay. You too," I said, but made no immediate move to leave. I couldn't take my eyes of his body, and I was sure he noticed it. At last he spoke.

"Maybe I'll ride the pavement back with you," he said.

"The Canal trail is a little rough. Unless you're into really fast riding. Looks like you're set up for speed with that bicycle computer and all."

"No, no, I'm not in any hurry," I said, forgetting all about raising my average speed. I mean what's important in life, sexy men or strained knees? Easy choice.

"My name's Jeff," he said.

"Hi Jeff," I said. "I'm Tony."

We headed off together, and I was surprised to find that he rode a rather quick pace himself. The more we spoke, the more I liked him. He was intelligent and articulate, and seemed knowledgeable in any number of topic areas. And besides he had the nicest ass I'd seen in a long time.

I invited him to my house for something cold to drink and he accepted. Inside he expressed concern about sitting on the furniture because he was sweating so much.

"You can take a shower if you want," I offered.

"I think I will. Thanks. You can join me if you want," he said, again with that boyish grin. A real case of terminal cuteness. I was surprised at his offer, but didn't have to think twice. He undressed with the casualness of a man who knows his body is the object of admiration. We stepped into the shower and began lathering up. Jeff rubbed the bar of soap in his massive hands and began strongly massaging my back. Then he worked his way lower until he was sliding his hand between my ass cheeks. I was getting a hard on that I knew would not go away on its own.

When I turned around I faced a body that filled the width of my shower. I rubbed the bar of soap around his hairy chest, and when he lifted his arms I lathered up his armpits. He turned around and I completed my clean-up act on his backside, spending extra time reaching between his legs to soap up his heavy balls and stiffening cock. Working my way lower, I gently massaged his well-defined legs.

"I guess professional bike riders get leg massages all the time," Jeff said.

"Probably so," I agreed. "I wonder if their trainers enjoy rubbing them down as much as I'm enjoying this." He turned around then and faced me with his huge cock standing at a 90 degree angle to his body. I took it in my mouth, and while I sucked on that beautiful tool I ran my soapy hand between his ass cheeks. We both got a thorough cleaning.

"Is it true that professional bicycle racers shave their legs?" he asked me.

"Some do," I answered. "Not all of them. I think it's a European practice."

"I always wondered about that," he said. "I've had such hairy legs for as long as I can remember, and I wondered what it would feel like to have them smooth."

"Well, I've got a shaver right out on the counter," I told him. "I can certainly oblige you if you're willing to try. And I'll be extra careful - you can trust me."

"Sure, why not," he said. "If I don't like it I just let the hair grow back, right?"

I grabbed my razor and shave cream, and lathered up his legs. Slowly and gently I tracked the razor through the white cream, exposing muscular legs and light skin that had been shaded from the sun for years by his downy fur. When I was done his legs looked as if they had been sculpted from white Italian marble. The muscles seemed even more clearly defined, and the skin was a pale translucent membrane that nearly exposed the inner workings of these massive wonders.

"Hold up your arms," I told him, and then covered each armpit with shave cream. In shorter strokes I scraped away the matted wet hair from his armpits. He was beginning to look like a transformed beast - a man- bear who had magically escaped from the Island of Dr. Moreau. "One last area, okay?" I asked, and pointed to his crotch. He gave me that incredible grin, and I knew he had agreed. With even more gentleness than before I lathered up his crotch area. I shaved from his navel down, moving his stiff rod from side to side so I could completely smooth this patch of hairy wilderness. He lifted one leg up and planted it on the wall so I could have access to the underside of his scrotum. In a few minutes he rinsed off a body that was smooth as silk from his navel down, and had two silky armpits too. The rest of his body - chest, upper belly, thick arms - retained their brown hairy coverage. He was an incredibly sexy contrast. We dried in a hurry and headed for the bed.

"What do you want?" he asked me.

"I want you to lie on your back, and raise your arms above your head and grab the bedposts," I said. "Don't let go of them. Now spread your legs." When he complied I climbed on top of him and began gently licking his armpits. My tongue licked one pit until it was glistening wet, then moved to the other - all the while gently pinching and twisting his nipples. When both armpits were soaked and sensitive, I moved down to his nipples. I took each one in my mouth and bit down with a gentle firmness that was both arousing and slightly painful. His whimper told me when I was nearing the pain threshold, and I would ease off the tiniest bit. Although I knew that his strength could easily overpower me, I felt in control of this beautiful giant. For now, for whatever reasons, he let me take control of him. His arms, though not tied, remained over his head as if bound. He writhed beneath me like a shackled wild animal. And yet, in a curious way, he was the one in complete control. Without any words, using only motion and moans, he directed me in what to do.

I moved down and wrapped an arm around each of his massive thighs. Craning my neck, I licked his smooth ball sac like a rapidly melting ice cream cone. His cock and balls were even more sensitive than usual, after being shaved, and he moved and moaned with pleasure at each stroke of my hot wet tongue. I traced the word "BEAST" on his belly with my tongue, and I could feel the individual muscles of his tight tummy contract with excitement.

I moved my mouth back down and took his ball in my mouth. It lolled around like a wet hardboiled egg. I let it free and sucked up the other one. Then I began tracking the fleshy line to his asshole.

"Don't do that," he said. "I don't like that."

"Just keep hold of those bedposts," I told him. "I guarantee you'll like this." I reached my hands under his tree-trunk thighs, and with his assistance lifted his legs until his cleaned and shaved ass lay open like a shucked oyster. My tongue slowly worked its way around his center hole, the mouth occasionally taking a quick nip on his ass. Then I moved in for the kill. With quick movements I began licking his asshole, first quickly and softly, then with strong probing licks that forced open that tender opening. I could feel his muscle relax as my tongue firmly but slowly prodded its way inside, could feel the anal contractions when my hand stroked his hard cock.

"Now, do you want more?" I asked in a teasing tone of voice. "Or do you still not like that?"

"Yes. More. More"

"Then you have to tell me exactly what you want," I said.

"You know what I want," he said, his legs still in the air and his ass still exposed. "Please, you know."

"You've got to ask for it," I reminded him. "You've got to beg for it."

"I'd like for you to fuck me," he finally said. I was so turned on by this big guy asking me for something. "Please fuck me."

That was all the invitation I needed. His asshole was wet and slippery from my tongue lashing and his own excitement, and my cock slid in with little resistance. "Oh yea," he said. "Oh yes, do it...do it."

I fucked him with long slow strokes at first, occasionally leaning down to bite at his sexy nipples, or lick his smooth armpits. All the while he continued to hold onto the bedposts as if tied there. Finally I could control myself no more.

"Let go of the bedposts," I told him. "Turn over and get up on your knees." He complied without a question. I slid my cock into him from behind, mounting this big bear like a dog. His massive back supported me while I fucked his ass from behind. Below I jacked off his beautiful cock with my right hand and roughly played with his nipples with my left hand.

"Tell me when you're about to let loose," I instructed.

"I'm ready now," he said. "I'm about to cum. Oh God, I'm gonna shoot, I'm aa aa I'm Oh God, here I cum."

He let loose with a stream of cum that criss-crossed the bed in thick milky ribbons and still had enough volume to puddle up beneath us. At the same time I shot my cock up his beautiful ass, filling him with my viscous fluid. We collapsed together on the bed. Now that we had both climaxed, his passiveness ended. He wrapped me up in massive arms and folded me into him like a tablespoon engulfing a teaspoon. Between the bicycle ride and the sexual ride we were both exhausted. We slept encased in each other for hours.

-- +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Jeffrey P. Temple utgard!pyrgard!jeffrey@csusac.csus.edu | | | | "There are not many things in human affairs worth any great anxiety" |

Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive