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Graffiti
By Terry O'Reilly
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2011 Terry O'Reilly
ISBN 9781611522082
Cover Photo Credit: Nick Fingerhut
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License. Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All Rights Reserved
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to
actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Graffiti
By Terry O'Reilly
Chapter 1: Tom
Tom Clarkson sat on a picnic table in Delph Municipal Park---ass on the tabletop, feet on the bench seat, elbows on knees, and chin in his hands. The sun shone on his brown hair that was streaked with blond. A look he'd achieved by combing lemon juice into his hair and lying in the sun. He wore sunglasses, a black sleeveless tee, ragged cut off jeans and flip- flops. In his ears were stainless steel spear point earrings and he wore a steel chain necklace. He knew he was handsome to a fault and if he had been in California instead of the Midwest, he would have been taken for a model or a movie star. Tom wasn't in the park to work on his dark tan in the warm late spring sunshine. He was there for another reason: sex.
Tom checked his watch: five to ten. He raised his head and looked around---nothing. No cars, no people. He sighed and leaned back on his hands.
It's Monday, he thought. Nothing much goes on here on a Monday morning. Not this early anyway. 'Sides, the message said Monday at ten. Not quite that yet.
He'd seen a message on the wall of a stall in the public restroom when he'd cruised the place the previous weekend. It was new. And Tom was always up for new contacts, new experiences with new faces, new bodies to enjoy sexually. He went back to waiting.
At exactly ten o'clock a four-door, late model Studebaker sedan drove into the lot. Tom sat up straight and checked it out. The front door opened and an elderly man got out.
"Shit," Tom murmured under his breath. He wasn't opposed to sex with older men, but this guy looked like he might not make it through the summer. I ain't into necrophilia. That was just a bit too kinky, even for him.
The man looked over to where Tom was sitting and waved. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
Tom waved back and called out, "Yeah it is." But he didn't get up.
The man opened the back door of his car, and to Tom's relief, two small, fluffy dogs leaped out, excitedly jumping on their master as he tried to retrieve their leashes.
"Easy there, Sarah, calm down, Sammy. We're here like Daddy promised."
Tom smiled as the man and his 'kids' took the path to the right and disappeared into the trees.
Good, Tom mused. That path goes all around the lake. If the guy who wrote the message ever gets here we'll head that way. The dogs'll be long gone by then.
Tom smiled, remembering the time a couple years earlier when he'd been fucking the brains out of some kid and had suddenly felt something wet and cold goose his ass. A big golden retriever had come up behind him and stuck his nose in his crack. Had scared the hell out of him. Tom and the guy he was screwing had barely got their pants up before a man and woman rounded the corner and called to the dog. They had looked suspiciously at the two shirtless men standing together in the small clearing, trying to appear casual, as if they were studying the flora of the park.
Tom's thoughts were interrupted when a big Lincoln Town Car crept into the lot and pulled up right in front of the table on which he was sitting.
Tom couldn't see into the car because the sun's reflection glinted off the windshield. Nevertheless, his instincts told him this was the author of the note, so he started his seduction. He leaned back on the table and raised his head to the sun as if he were just catching some rays. At the same time, he spread his legs so his ample package was displayed through his tight shorts.
The door opened and a man stepped out. He was tall, wore sunglasses and had on a white shirt and dress pants.
Professional guy or businessman, Tom thought.
He had coppery red hair, streaked with white, was quite handsome and looked to be in fair shape, a little bit of a paunch, but all-in-all pretty acceptable. Tom stood and stretched, flexing his pecs and biceps. The man looked over at him.
Taking his time---walking slowly and sensually---Tom turned and headed for the path into the trees; the same one the man with the dogs had taken. When he reached the entrance to the shaded avenue, he paused and looked over his shoulder. The man was following.
That's right, Red, right this way.
Tom didn't want to get too far ahead as the park had many winding trails that branched off the main one. He didn't want to take a chance his quarry would be separated from him and lost in the labyrinth. When he was sure the man was close enough, he started off again.
With a sureness that came from many excursions along these trails, Tom headed for an area where he was sure they could be alone and consummate whatever sexual favors the man would offer. Tom was getting excited. He could feel his cock hardening in his tight cut-offs. He took a deep breath, exhilarating in the sensations of sexual arousal.
Finding the secluded spot he was looking for, Tom turned and faced the man, who looked around nervously.
"Relax," Tom said. "We're safe here." He reached out and cupped the man's balls and cock through his pants. He was big and semi-hard. His heavy balls felt good in Tom's hand.
"You sure?" the man asked, looking at Tom, uncertainty showing on his face. "I saw another car."
Tom snickered as he continued to massage the man's stiffening dick. "If you're wantin' complete privacy it probably ain't gonna happen here. But trust me, we're not gonna be seen."
Tom took the man's hand and placed it on his own hard prick and pressed it down. The man shuddered, took a deep breath and began to squeeze the rigid organ through the fabric. Tom reached around and held the man's ass in his grip. It was firm and round. He pulled him forward and pressed his own package against that of his would-be sex partner.
"Wait," the man said, pushing Tom back slightly.
Shit! A Nervous Nellie! Tom thought. "Hey, look, if you don't want to---"
"No, I do," the man said earnestly. "I just can't get caught." "Shit, none of us wanna get caught," Tom said, snickering again.
"Don't you have someplace we could go?" the man continued nervously, but still fondling Tom's equipment.
Tom thought of his apartment. Aside from the fact it was a mess and he'd be embarrassed to have anyone see it, he didn't want any of his playmates to know where he lived. He kept his sex life and the rest of his life, with few exceptions, strictly separate.
"Not really," Tom replied, getting annoyed and impatient. He was turned on and wanted to get to the main event. "How about you?" he asked.
"Don't be ridiculous!" the man said, holding up his left
hand and wiggling his fingers revealing a wedding band.
"Well, how about a motel?" Tom suggested.
The man considered this, then said, "Okay. But you have to check us in. I'll pay."
Damn right you'll pay. "Fine," Tom agreed.
The two men turned and retraced their steps up the path. When they got to the edge of the woods near the parking lot, the old man with the dogs was just coming out of the trees on the opposite side having finished the circular tour of the park. Tom's trick froze in his tracks.
"Jesus, man! Relax!" Tom said, almost regretting that he'd made contact with the guy. "Just act natural. He's an old geezer. He won't think anything, and even if he does, so what. You ain't never gonna see him again."
"You don't understand. I'm well known in this town and---" "Yeah, yeah, all right. I get it." Tom sighed. "But if you act all uptight like you are now he's sure gonna think something's goin' on."
Tom and his would-be partner stepped out of the trees. "Hello," the old man called to them, waving, his two little dogs bounding around panting and barking as Tom and the man approached. "Did you have a nice hike? Isn't this a glorious day?
After all that rain we've had it's so nice to finally have some nice weather."
"Yeah, it's great," Tom said. The man with him nodded. The old man with the dogs continued to chatter on as he loaded them into the car. "Enjoy the rest of the day," he said as he got in himself, backed out of the parking space and drove away.
"Where's your car?" the man asked Tom.
"Didn't bring it. Walked. Don't live that far from here."
That was true. He did live only a few blocks from the park, but the rest of the truth was that he didn't own a car. He couldn't afford one.
The man raised his eyebrows. Tom figured he was wondering why, if he lived so close, they couldn't just go to his place. Tom offered no explanation.
"Well," the man said, looking around and running his fingers through his hair. "Get in I guess."
Tom opened the door of the luxury vehicle and leaned back into the plush seat. The man got in on the other side and closed his door.
"Pretty fancy wheels ya got," Tom commented. "Yes, it belongs to the bank," the man replied as he backed out of the space. "Where to?"
"Turn right and drive up Garden Parkway about two miles. There's a Motel Six on Parker Road just off the Parkway."
The man grimaced.
"What? You want the Hilton? That's fine by me. You're payin'," Tom said, laughing.
The man smiled slightly, put the car in gear and started off. Tom reached over and put his hand on the man's thigh. The man glanced at Tom and then turned back to the road. Tom moved his hand higher and squeezed the man's hard cock. The man gave a little gasp of pleasure.
He's got a bit of equipment, Tom mused.
In five minutes they were in the motel's parking lot. Tom had to walk clear around the building as the man parked as far away from the office as he could. Tom came back with the key, stuffing the twenty dollars in change from the money the man had given him into his own pocket.
"We're in two four six, second level around back," Tom told the man.
"You go in," he said to Tom. "Leave the door ajar so I don't have to knock and I'll be up in a few minutes."
"Okay, suit yourself," Tom replied. "But no one here's gonna even look at us twice. They're used to all kinds of traffic in places like these."
The man just waved Tom off.
Tom went up to the room, sat on the bed and waited. He looked around the room, not sure if he'd been in this particular one before, but he'd been in so many and they all looked alike. Several minutes went by. Just as Tom was thinking the guy had gotten cold feet and bailed, the door opened and then was immediately banged shut, the dead bolt put in place and the security chain latched.
The man turned, leaned against the door and sighed. "Whew!"
Tom stood. "You ready now?" he asked with an edge of sarcasm.
"Yes," the man said. "Sorry, but I just have to be careful. I'm John by the way."
Sure you are, and your last name is Doe. Tom thought.
Guys like this...they never give their real names. "Pleased to meet you, John," he replied but, true to form, didn't tell the man his name.
John didn't seem to notice and put his hands on Tom's shoulders and leaned forward.
"Sorry. I don't get into the kissin' thing," Tom said, putting his hand on John's chest and pushing him back a bit.
John looked disappointed. "Well, what do you get into then?" "Just about anything else you want. How about this?"
Tom sat back down on the bed, pulled John toward him and unzipped his fly. He reached in and took out what proved to be a prize well worth all the trouble. The man's cock was beer can thick, about eight inches long, and, right now, was hard, throbbing and dripping. The beautiful red head was issuing pearls of pre- cum. Tom licked the droplets from the tip and explored further, pulling two very ample balls covered in soft red hair out through the man's fly. He began to lick and suck both the balls and dick. John took hold of Tom's head and moaned in pleasure.
While Tom sucked and slathered the engorged organ, John undid his belt and pushed his trousers and boxers to the floor. Tom reached around and kneaded the firm buttocks, feeling the soft hair that covered them. He ran his hands up and down the crack, pushing his fingers inside to find the hole. Tom rubbed it and John groaned.
"Yeah, baby. That's the spot. Yeah."
Tom stood, stripped off his shirt and dropped his shorts. He wore no underwear. John undid his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Tom pulled him into an embrace and the two men ground their bodies, cocks and balls against one another, Tom was careful to keep his head turned away in case there was another attempt at kissing him. John dropped to his knees and swallowed Tom's prick to the base, burying his face in the thick bush of dark hair. He reached up and tweaked Tom's hard nipples, running his hands through the rich pelt on Tom's stomach and chest.
Tom felt his balls starting to rise. He had other plans for his climax.
"Get up," he commanded.
John obeyed. Tom had him step out of his pants and kneel on the bed. He spread John's ass cheeks and began to lick the length of the crack between the two mounds of flesh. John writhed and moaned. Zeroing in on the puckered hole, Tom inserted his tongue, rimming the sphincter until it relaxed and began to open. Keeping his tongue where it was, he slid in a finger. John moaned his encouragement. Tom inserted a second finger.
"God damn it! Fuck me!" John yelled.
Tom spit on his cock, then on John's hole. He pressed the head of his dick against the pucker and pushed. John pushed back. As Tom's tool slipped inside, John growled in pain.
Tom started to pull out.
"No, shit, no, fuck me!" John growled again through gritted teeth.
"Yes, sir," Tom laughed and rammed his cock in to the hilt. John grunted loudly, then said, "Yeah, oh, yeah. Fuck, man, fuck me hard."
Tom obliged, grabbing John's ass with both hands and pistoning him with all his might.
The man groaned and roared in pleasure.
After a few minutes Tom pulled out and flipped John on his back, raising his legs to his shoulders. Grasping John by the ankles, he slowly reinserted his cock until John's ginger shrouded balls were buried in Tom's thick pubic hair. Tom wiggled his hips, making his prick move from side to side within his impaled victim.
"Yeah, that's it. Oh, man. You're good," John moaned through gritted teeth, eyes closed, head thrashing from side to side. Tom resumed thrusting in and out. As his speed and depth increased, John grabbed his fat cock and began jerking it with a vengeance. In just a few minutes he began grunting and panting until with one long groan he spewed his white creamy cum all over his auburn-haired chest. John rubbed it around with his hands and then began to lick his fingers, whimpering and whining as he did so.
Tom continued to fuck John until he felt his own climax coming. "In or out?" he asked in a strangled voice.
>
"Out!" John growled.
Tom pulled out. John sat up and engulfed the turgid organ with his mouth just as Tom's spunk exploded.
Tom collapsed next to John on the bed, lying on his back. John lay on his side next to Tom and ran his hands over his fucker's muscular chest.
"Man, you are one hot fuck," he said and leaned in to try to kiss Tom once more.
"Told you I wasn't into that shit," Tom said, turning his head away.
"Shit? I'd hardly call a kiss shit," John said as he continued to massage Tom's pecs.
"Well, maybe shit's the wrong word, but I ain't into it in any case."
"Why?"
"Don't know. Too intimate I guess. Fuckin' and suckin' is one thing, but kissin'...well, that's something else. Means ya got feeling's for each other. Two guys shouldn't have feeling's for each other. It's just sex when two guys are goin' at it."
John didn't push the issue.
They lay there for a few more minutes. Then John said, "Let's take a shower. If that's not too intimate for you?"
"Naw, I can do that," Tom said with a chuckle.
He got up and pulled John to his feet. John preceded him to the bathroom.
John turned and asked, "Can I see you again?" "Sure."
"How can I contact you? You have a phone?" "Yeah, but I don't give out the number."
John paused. "Well, you can't call me either."
"Then just leave some more graffiti on the stall wall in the park," Tom said with a laugh as he turned John around, slapped him on the ass and headed him to the shower.
Chapter 2: Alan
"Alan...Alan!"
Alan Daniels looked up from the ledger sheet he was working on. "Oh...hi, Elise," he said. Alan considered Elise his best friend. He shared all his most intimate thoughts with her. "I'm sorry. I was just caught up in this account. Mr. Jennings needs it by Monday."
"Well, forget the ledger and the account. Mr. Jennings will be out of the office until Wednesday," the pretty brunette said with a smile. "It's Friday and five o'clock, time to be done for the week and have a little fun."