GAY SEX STORY
"Showtime"

“Ben!!” Jeff shouted my name from across the street. He dodged traffic to join me and continued, “Just the man I want to see.”

I hoped that meant another raunchy suck-and-fuck night with him. He’s one hot, hairy bear, and having sex with him is a major turn-on for me. His closely-shaved beard and moustache only add to his good looks. I love licking his furry chest and then chewing on his tight ass hole until he’s begging to shove that gorgeous cock down my throat or between my hungry buns. “Your bed or mine?” I teased him.

“Funny you should ask, Ben. But, in this case, neither. Bob, a photographer I know, took some shots of me – for a mag. Nude stuff, just posing. Anyway, he just phoned and asked if I’d be up for a foursome. He wants to photograph two pairs of guys sucking cock, fucking, rimming, eating ass, whatever. So, I was hoping to bump into you.”

“Shoving my tongue up your ass with someone taking picures of it sounds kinky, but sure, why not?”

“Bob has something else in mind. He asked me to find a bear pig. We’ll be the bottoms in this session.”

“Who are the tops?”

“Who knows? But Bob says they’re hairy hunks, hung like stallions, who can fuck for hours.”

I thought for a moment and then said, “One condition. Sex with you after. Alone.” The thought of licking his sweaty armpits and sucking his juicy cock and balls was giving me an aching hard-on right there. “You’re on. After the session, we can go back to my place.”

“Excellent. So when does this foursome happen? – and where?”

“Eight o’clock tonight, at the Karate Studio,” and he pointed to the second-floor window sign up the street.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the entrance door. Just wear a shirt and shorts; Bob has clothing outfits there. Okay?”

Nothing ventured ... I thought, as I headed back to my apartment. I trusted Jeff, and I really wanted to have hot, raunchy sex with him. If that was going to happen later, anyway, this fuck-and-suck session could make our private get-together even more intense. The idea of that sent my throbbing erection into over-drive. The cold shower I took, ten minutes later, didn’t help much.

Three hours later, I arrived at the studio’s front door, where Jeff was waiting, wearing a devilish grin. “Showtime!!” he said, and pushed the buzzer. While we waited, he added, “Just relax. Bob’s easy to work with. He’ll let you know what works and what doesn’t.” When the door opened, Jeff said, “Hi Greg. Ben, this is Greg, Bob’s assistant.” We exchanged greetings, and Greg led us up the stairs and into the studio, a large room with floor mats from wall to wall.

Bob was busy shooting the two tops, impressive hunks, who were wearing karate outfits. The bigger guy wore a red belt, which, if I remembered correctly, was only two levels below a black belt. I thought: Resist these guys and my ass is history. Oh well, if I have to die, being fucked to death is my first choice.

While we waited, we stripped off our clothes and put on the wrestling-type outfits that Greg had given us – a sort-of tank top and chaps combo. “You look fucking incredible in that,” I told Jeff. “I envy the guy who’s going to fuck you. I’d like to suck your cock right now.”

“Let’s take five,” I heard Bob say, and he, Greg, and the two tops came over. Damien, who wore the red belt, was awesome. Stan was no slouch either. They eyed Jeff and I, as if deciding whose ass they wanted to fuck first. Stan interjected: “Ben, why don’t you put your shorts on, over that outfit. Then I can pull them off you, for the camera.”

“Good idea,” Bob said. “Stan and Damien can basically take charge. Jeff, you and Ben follow their lead and turn them on any way you want. Take it slow. I don’t want to miss any action. And sometime during the shoot, I’ll get you guys to switch partners. Okay?”