The Bull, The Stag, The Ram

By Arthur Doyle

Published on Oct 18, 2021

Gay

The next time I came home, Buck had a friend with him. I walked right in on the two of them reclining together on our couch, both in their birthday suits as they cuddled. Buck's friend was quite the looker, a muscular Indian guy with a pretty face, long eyelashes, bushy mustache, and long flowing hair. He watched me with a wry half-smile as he took a long drag from a joint and pressed his body against my roommate's.

"Hey, Walsh," Buck said, looking good and stoned. "This is Farley."

Farley's huge dong hung down over his large balls, both of which were draped against his hairy thigh. With his stacked pecs and pelt of fur across his chest, the dude looked like Buck's twin from another dimension. He seemed to be extremely comfortable with Buck, languidly twisting a finger through my roommate's shoulder-length locks. The smell of cum and sweat wafted strongly off the two boys' hides. That and their blissed-out attitudes told me they had probably just finished having sex.

Farley leaned forward to offer me the joint. A moment of hesitation kept me from taking it. Was I jealous that this guy was splayed out over my roommate (and erstwhile lover), their sexy physiques and level of intimacy with each other apparent for all to see? Ignoring my emotions, I grabbed the lit doobie and pressed it to my lips. The hot smoke made me feel lighter and calmer.

"Is it cool if Farley stays here a little while?" Buck asked.

Something about his tone suggested that this wasn't really a question. Farley would be with us whether or not I liked it. Yet a large part of me was also keen to please Buck, to let him take charge and steer things according to whatever he felt was right. Staring at the intruder on my couch, I wondered whether his presence would preclude any further erotic shenanigans with my roommate. Farley gave me no indication of the thoughts behind his mysterious, hawk-like eyes, which seemed to be sizing me up with their wild gaze. My nostrils flared as I watched a pearl of pre-jizz form at the end of his large exposed pipe.

"Great," Buck said, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. "I think you can both learn a lot from each other."


I went and apologized to Jack, telling him how sorry I was for coming onto him. I explained that I was just going through a weird time and starting to have certain realizations about myself. He surprised me by pulling me into a huge bear hug and nuzzling my cheek with his nose.

"Don't worry about it, bud. Glad to hear you're figuring some things out. I'm here for you whenever you need."

The feeling of his stubble rubbing against mine caused a short electric shock in my cock, but I clamped down on my arousal, happy to have such a good friend as Jack. I told him it wouldn't happen again.

Still, I felt changed, renewed in some way after everything I'd been through, as if I'd settled more into my skin. Something about my sense of comfort seemed to draw attention from other dudes. In the locker room after lacrosse practice, I noticed a few teammates unable to turn their eyes away from me as I changed out of my uniform, my hairy butt straining against the straps of my jock in a lurid display of male beauty. One guy, who we all called Moose on account of the fact that he was six foot five and built like an ox, even came up and patted my exposed cheeks.

"You been working out more than usual, Walsh?" he asked. "Looking strong, bro!"

The compliment sent a rush of nervous excitement through my belly, like I was a schoolgirl with a crush. Moose squeezed my firm, round rear. He had just walked from the showers and was dripping wet, with nothing but a really small towel wrapped around his waist. "You got to tell me your routine, dude. You're fine as hell!"

My asshole was almost always in the center of my thoughts now. Every time I stretched or bent over, I could feel it there, making its presence known, sending me signals, like it was asking for something to fill it up. Obviously, it wanted Buck's cock, but now with Moose towering over me, his expansive chest taking up most of my field of view, his sweaty armpits raised above my head, I knew that an endless world of pleasure with other men was probably headed my way. The only question in my mind was how to stop being so timid and actually get some action.


When I came back to my place, Farley was sitting naked on a pillow in the living room playing a large sitar. Perched on his head was a headpiece similar to Buck's, except that it featured two small sharp horns, like that from a young bull. The item made him look especially demonic.

The room reeked of pot smoke and a soft droning sound came from a small speaker as this new entrant into my life leisurely strummed his strings, producing a beautiful tune. He fixed me with a serene smile as I sat down, pointing with his nose at a colorful bong by his side. I took a long hit, letting the haze bast my face and feeling my muscles unwind. Listening to that tranquil music, I realized that there was no reason for me to be disagreeable with Buck's friend.

"Where are you visiting from?" I asked, imagining some exotic distant place.

Farley grinned. "Annapolis."

A momentary embarrassment swept through my frame. I lit the bowl again and inhaled the skunky smoke. "You're really good," I said, indicating the instrument.

The handsome man before me merely watched me with a cryptic expression. His burly chest and brawny arms were a sight to behold and an errant thought in my head wondered what it would be like to feel his thick mustache tickling my lips as we kissed. Suddenly, I felt hot and tugged at my collar.

"No need to stand on ceremony with me," Farley said, still idly strumming away. "Get comfortable, man."

I hesitated but then decided I needed to become better at going with the flow. I pulled my shirt over my head, shucked my pants, and sat back down in my tighty-whities. Farley chuckled, shaking his horned crown.

"You can get even more comfortable than that. I promise I won't bite."

Looking down, I tugged at the elastic waist band of my underwear. In one fluid motion, I slipped them off, leaning back and sticking my hairy legs in the air to get completely nude. I realized that the action gave Farley a particularly good view of my butt. He was still smiling and playing the sitar when I sat back up.

"You're quite good looking, Walsh," he said. "I can see why Buck likes you."

His words caused a swelling in my chest. Buck was talking about me with other dudes! My heart fluttered at the thought that my roommate was telling others about my features, which seemed so paltry in my mind compared to his own.

"Where do you two know each other from?" I asked.

"Oh, here and there. We run in some of the same circles."

"And does Buck have a lot of other boys... friends... guys like you?"

Grinning, Farley completed his melody and put down his instrument. He grabbed the bong, took an enormous rip, and then leaned back with his legs splayed wide open as he let the smoke rise straight up into the air. His huge soft uncut dick twitched just the tiniest bit. His balls, I noticed, were insanely large, maybe even bigger than Buck's.

"There are many men who share our proclivities," he finally said. "Though I don't think Buck would say he has ownership over any of us."

By this point, the weed in my own brain was making me feel warm and loose. I couldn't take my eyes away from Farley's dong, which sat in a dense nest of crotch hair above that stupendous and superlative pair of balls. He kept grabbing his schlong, allowing it to grow thicker and longer with each adjustment and send the smell of man funk wafting my way. Our mutual BO was starting to stink up the place and I felt myself magnetically pulled closer to the hirsute man before me.

"I don't understand most of the stuff Buck tells me," I admitted. "It's like a religion but it's also not like anything I've ever heard before."

Farley fixed me with his accipitrine eyes, which gleamed delightedly. "Horned deities are among the oldest known mythic figures in the world. There's a 13,000-year-old cave painting known as The Sorcerer, depicting a half-deer, half-man deity with a prominent wang."

My mind was having trouble fully taking in his words. "But what does all this have to do with dude sex?"

Somehow, Farley and I had gotten closer together. I felt almost hypnotized by his ensorcelling eyes.

"People like us live in liminal spaces," he said. "We can sense the forces between all things. Sex is about power, and awareness, and potency."

Almost as if on cue, his dong began dribbling. At this point, it was only half-hard, yet incredibly girthy, its shaft looking like it could do some serious damage to the uninitiated. Farley continued to rub this beautiful beast, peeling back his foreskin as he spread his pre-jizz all over his privates. I saw a long rivulet leaking from his dick tip and running down to cover his ballsac. Instinctively, my mouth opened.

Farley stood up and, without saying anything, made it clear that he wanted me to come over. It was like I could hear his thoughts or something, but on an even more basic level. His sopping sausage and inundated low hangers practically glinted in the warm light of the living room. I could smell the pungent aroma of his pre-nut milk and feel a pulsating energy crackling between us. Some final rational brain cell in my head wondered why these boys were always wearing animal horns on their heads but the thought was swept away as my tongue unfurled and Farley placed his bull's balls right into my craw.

Unnggghhhh! My cojones-stuffed face cried out in rapture as Farley's lewd dude lube poured down my throat. It was like getting to taste some celestial sacrament, the divine drippings of a virile demi-god. His crude ball fluid had a flavor reminiscent of sour oranges, bitter herbs, and salty nectar, running down in a torrent over his colossal package as it rained over my tongue. My mouth was completely stuffed with hairy nuts, my lips pried apart to their fullest extent as Farley tea-bagged me like a Boston revolutionary. My eyes closed as my nose pressed directly against his asshole, whose scent was surprisingly inoffensive. I guess it made sense that guys who dealt in this kind of stuff kept it pretty tidy down there and a curious thought in my mind wondered what it was like to actually rim another man.

I didn't have to wait too long to find out since Farley pulled his sac from my maw and shifted down to the ground. Crouched on all fours, he stuck his rear into the air, wiggled it, and winked while looking over his left shoulder. With the weed coursing through my blood, and the hot ass situated in front of me, I was starting to feel myself taken over by my primary needs, my large uncut hard-on jutting luridly from my crotch at full attention. Farley's behind was a knockout, just about the most incredible peach I'd ever laid eyes on. It was round and hulking and furred beyond belief, with a dense set of curls running down its crack. I never knew I could be so attracted to a man's butt before.

Instinctually, I leaned forward and ran my slavering tongue all up and down his cornhole. It tasted even better than it smelled, tangy and earthy at the same time. My intuitions bade me pull back and spit right on his rosebud, then throw myself once again into attacking that puck with ever more forceful lingual explorations. The whole time, Farley was moaning with delight, writhing against my lips in an effort to gain more access to my intense keister feasting. My tongue quickly began to invade his hole and pretty soon I was Frenching that succulent mangina for all it was worth. I had a hand wrapped around Farley's colossal dong and another on my own erection, pumping both of our foreskins like a bestial creature.

Jesus, this was amazing: the sights, the smells, the tastes, the sensations. It was a full-on multidimensional sexual experience, triggering every part of my body into a heightened state of pleasure. Farley bucked and swayed against my fore end and I could feel his puck unraveling beneath my tongue. His sexy actions had thrown the switch on some limbic circuit in my brain, making me unable to do anything other than toss that mouthwatering salad. Sticky dong leakage was coating both my hands as Farley's incredible ass cheeks clapped around my face. I smacked his round rear with my palm and somehow sensed that he was ready to be bred.

Standing up, I looked down at that wet ass tushie, my focus glued to Farley's indescribably fine hole, wondering how it could be that I'd never fucked a butt before. My raging cock got in position to dock with that enticing entryway, the hot hunk below me looking particularly submissive and sodomizable. Farley reached back to adjust the angle of my long dong then whimpered excitedly as I began to slip inside him. His soft opening easily accommodated my dick-head and I grunted as I felt his tight chute wrap around my super-hard stiffie.

"Holy shit, bro," I said, bottoming out inside him.

"You're such a fucking stud, Walsh," he responded, grinding his ass against my loins.

The statement revved me up to an ever more animalistic state and I wasted no time in starting to pound away at his pound cakes. Each stroke was phenomenal, my dong buried as deep into his crack as it could go before pulling out to nearly its full length and then slamming back in. Farley was a pro, his hole simultaneously snug and obliging, allowing me to jackhammer away like I never had before, feeling like a sex machine set to master cocksmanship levels. I lifted my arm and shoved my nose into my own armpit as I plowed him, inhaling the heady stink of my body, which was starting to always contain the vegetal brassica note of the marijuana. My extremely willing partner continued to moan below me, urging me to fuck him harder, faster, deeper, stronger.

After spending a while in doggy style, Farley pushed me back and then flipped over, telling me to mount him missionary. This position gave me the opportunity to bathe in the sweet beauty of his physique, his furry six pack, his illustrious pecs, that gorgeous face, and, of course, his unbelievable dong. I wrapped two hands around that huge uncut pipe as I plunged my own steel rager in and out of his amazing puck. Farley spread his legs in the air and rolled his eyes back, clearly loving the dicking I was giving him. The two of us made out like horny bandits, his perfect mustache tickling my upper lip while his sterling member dripped a continuous cascade of precum all over the both of us.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, my rational brain noted that Farley had ensnared me with his receptive energy. This whole time, I had been expecting him to bang me with his gigantic rod, but here we were in the opposite arrangement, my own cock diving repeatedly into his incredible hole. Without saying a word, he had been teaching me a lesson in how to entice dudes, to get them jonesing for sex and then bend them to your whims. I still wasn't sure I'd be able to pull something like this off on my own but, in the meantime, my primal instincts were running on autopilot as I continued to plumb the depths of his ass with my dong.

"Oh god!" he cried. "Right there!"

And I knew I was hitting his responsive p-spot, that little button in his rear tunnel, sending sensations of absolute ecstasy coursing through his frame. He took both of my hands from his enormous erection, breathing heavily as I thrust against that inner walnut. With sweat dripping off both of us and the stench of man musk swirling through the air, Farley pulled me in closer and ground his hips to fuck himself against my cock. I could feel his chute tightening and watched as his nuts contracted, his eyes squeezed shut as he commanded me to bang him even more forcefully. There was a momentary pulsation in his ass and then a howling from his throat as he began spurting the most massive globs of man cream straight from the end of his prodigious prick.

A huge helping of piping hot prostate sauce slammed right into my nose, dousing my face with nut butter. Another dollop sailed right over Farley's head and caught on the horns of his crown. He shot incredible wads of man cream in every direction, blasting superb donations of porn syrup all over my features and his, which dripped into every crevice of our bodies. That unbelievable performance, as well as the twitching of his asshole, sent me over the edge and I felt a light go off in my brain as I began pumping exquisite loads of boy batter right into his fundament. I was so aroused that even when I pulled out, my keyed up erection continued to shoot huge sheets of sticky skeet and I blasted another crazy curtain of jism over the two of us.

Panting, I collapsed right atop Farley, who cuddled me close in his arms. "That was amazing," he whispered, nuzzling his splooge-splattered nose against my cum-covered cheek. "You're going be great at this. I can't wait for you to meet the rest of the crew."

As I fell asleep, I felt content and joyful to have performed so well, wrapped close to Farley's beautiful body. Just before I drifted off, a final thought in my head wondered how many more guys I was going to meet before this was all said and done.


Thanks to all the folks who have been sending me encouragement to get this next chapter done. I appreciate your patience! Send additional urgings to sirarthurpornandoyle@yahoo.com and support Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/

Next: Chapter 6


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