"GETTING PLOWED"

GETTING PLOWED

By JOSEPH PATTON-------Illustration by PETROSKI

Last summer something totally unexpected happened to me. I no longer felt the old thrill when I met a friend on Christopher Street; every flesh and fantasy escapade was like vanilla ice cream without the sweet tasting syrup that gives itflavor. What was the trouble? I couldn't tell. But I knew I had to do something about it.

One night, seeking solace in the pages of one of those "all-new, all-hard, all-male" magazines, I turned to the personals in the back section. One of them was unusual enough to pique my interest:

GARDEN needs oral and/or anal planting by gardener. Send photo of gardening implement, returned promptly with one or two of garden. Relationship possible. Send letter including avai lability for planting to Eric's Garden, PO Box . . .

Cheap thrills maybe, but any thrill is better than none at all. I hadn't met Eric, but I had to admit that he certainly knew how to attract attention. Quick as you please I stripped off my gym shorts, grabbed my Nikon and stretched out on the sofa. Flaccid for far too long, my cock sprang into action stimulated by the possibility of some action. Ready. Aim. Click!

Eric's reply came promptly, as promised. A handwritten note in a spidery scrawl confirmed the date of planting and gave directions to his apartment in Soho. With mounting excitement I shook several snapshots out of the envelope. In the first one, Eric was sticking out his smooth butt. The round hole of his ass was a shocking pink — so vivid it made my mouth water. In the second a wide, cavernous mouth gaped open and a long narrow tongue snaked straight toward me. Somewhere in Eric's ancestry, someone must have been crossed with an anteater.

On Friday night I arrived at Eric's door. The week had passed all too slowly and I couldn't get him out of my mind. Day after day, night after night, I had fantasized about what he'd be like until the muscles in my arm grew sore. I knocked. I heard footsteps coming closer. The doorknob re volved. Finally: the moment of truth.

Frisky as a colt, lean, slender, somewhere in his twenties, Eric stood in front of me wearing soft faded blue Levis and a leather vest that exposed his muscled torso. Light streaked off his sky-high cheekbones, and his dark blond hair was arranged in a Mohawk-like strip down the middle of his close cropped head. His unconventional hair style suggested a daring that extended beyond far beyond normal boundaries; Eric seemed capable of anything.

I had come prepared for the unex pected, but I must have stood there for half a minute before I said, "I'm the gardener."

"I know," Eric answered, appraising me from head to toe. He thrust out a hand. The grip was strong and powerful. A strange volcanic fire glinted in his jade green eyes as he said, "Come into the garden."

No sooner had I shut the door than Eric took off his vest and tossed it aside, reveal ing an enviable pair of cone shaped nip ples. A shiny silver ring dangled from his left tit. Slowly, teasingly, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down around his thighs. His cock shot out of his dense pubic bush and slapped his tight torso. With his left thumb in the belt hook of his jeans and his right hand pressing the root of his rigid cock, Eric stood there like a satyr carved by some sex starved Roman sculptor.

He looked inviting and irresistible. Sud denly, he stepped out of his pants and dropped them on the floor. As if he were a raw recruit and I the examining physician, he turned around, bent over, and spread 'em. My eyes widened. Another steel ring, larger than the nipple loop, was swinging from the ridge of skin between his scrotum and asshole!

My shirt, jeans, and boots went flying through the air as I stripped, then swooped into Eric's ass. I grabbed his cheeks and spread them as wide as possible so that I could tongue fuck the hot moist asshole I wanted so badly. Clean and sweet tasting, the round opening expanded as I buried my face in the warmth of Eric's ass. I was so in love with those tasty buns that I didn't want to come up for air.

But when I did, Eric quickly whirled around and slid his soft, buttery lips over the thick knob of my cock. A surge of ex citement spiked through my ballsac, my groin, my whole body. Without letting up, Eric licked the underside of my cock, mak ing it lengthen and thicken. His jaws moved rhythmically. I pressed my fingers against the corded muscles of his neck, which flexed and then relaxed as my cock propelled in and out of his mouth.

"Perfect," I told him. When he glanced up, that volcanic fire glowed again in his green eyes. My knees began to shake and I slapped my hands on Eric's shoulders as if they were a pair of handlebars. He kept sucking on my cock. I shifted my hips to steady myself. I could feel a tingling inside my scrotum; I knew it was all over. Eric speeded up and the suctioning power increased. Another thrust and another and another; my cock erupted into the soft, muscular cavity at the back of his mouth.

I reeled, and then leaned my head back to re gain my composure. It was the best orgasm I had had all summer long. "You're great," I gasped. "Fucking unreal!"

Eric's eyes did a flash dance. He mo tioned toward a sofa and disappeared into the kitchen for a couple of beers, thrusting his butt out behind him.

"I really enjoyed that," Eric said a mo ment later, handing me a beer. He sat next to me, his thighs rubbing mine. "Impres sive implement. Delicious seed."

Peering into my crotch, Eric noticed that I was still completely erect. Glancing side ways at him, I aimed my tool right at his parted lips, making a joke of it.

"May I?" Eric asked, arching his blond brows.

Lickety slick, he took it again, rolling the head around in his mouth and sweeping his tongue up and back on the ultra sensitive skin of the shaft. My heart pounded as I took a long swallow of ice cold beer. Minutes later, I ejaculated even more explosively in Eric's mouth for the second time.

When he had swallowed the last drops of my cum, Eric let my cock fall out of his mouth. He slid off the sofa, down on his hands and knees, and gazed up at me like an Airedale begging his master for atten tion. I brushed the Mohawk strip down the middle of his scalp. From deep in his throat, Eric gave out grunts of gratitude.

I raised his chin and started toying with the nipple ring. "I haven't touched my cock since I wrote you back," he blurted out. "Abstinence makes the cock grow harder." A jewel of pre-cum oozed out of his piss slit and slid along the side of his belligerent cock. Taking me by surprise, Eric raised up; his tongue shot out of his mouth and hurled into mine in a kiss that stretched from there to infinity!

When I pried my lips apart from Eric's for a mouthful of air, I saw the jeans and shirt and vest and boots lying in a heap on the floor. It must have been midnight, but every bone in my body was telling me the night was only beginning. I knew something else: I wanted to know more about this man who turned me on so eagerly and ener getically.

"Where do you come from?" I asked Eric, turning toward him.

"Minneapolis," he answered matter-of-factly. "I had a very strict Catholic upbring ing. When I was thirteen or fourteen my mother discovered cum stains on the sheets and I wasn't allowed to go anywhere except school for a month. When I left home I decided I was going to completely freak out and find who I was."

Eric smiled slyly. "One night at the baths, I met a man who brought me to my senses — and to my knees. He made me call him 'Sir.' He fucked me in front of about a dozen men, but that was just the begin ning. While my friends were sticking safety pins through their lips, my master was pier cing my tits and taint."

"Taint?"

Eric raised up and rubbed the ridge of skin below his scrotum. "Tain't balls and tain't ass. That's why it's called a taint."

I had always stayed clear of the S&M scene, and I didn't much like the idea of Eric's master bursting into the room with a cat-o'-nine-tails tipped with rawhide thongs. "Is your master due anytime soon?" I asked.

"Hardly," Eric laughed. "He runs a gar dening business in Key West. We see each other four or five times a year. I swear it's true. As for me," he volunteered, "I play drums for a New Wave band called the Meatmen. The more different you look" — he brushed his hands lightly along his Mohawk — "the more attention people pay to you. Besides, being different comes naturally to me. I guess I'm something of an exhibitionist."

Eric walked over to an ingeniously wired stereo system and popped in a tape. The beat of drums filled the air. The tempo rose like a fever. Eric's eyes met mine in a scin tillating stare; then, with a flick of the switch, he turned out the lights. A flame flared up and disappeared. The orange glow of the cigarette Eric had lit moved closer. Suddenly he dropped to his hands and knees, doggie-style. The reddish tip of the cigarette swayed in slow sensuous circles. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw that Eric had taken the cigarette from his mouth and put it in his asshole and was smoking it in a way that could only be described as open-ended!

When Eric dropped the cigarette into an empty can of beer, I slathered my cock with a slap of spit and pushed the head against his asshole. One good shove and I filled the emptiness between his smooth cheeks.

"Tight when it's right and loose when it suits," I told him, but it wasn't necessary. Eric's ass muscles were in perfect tune with my cock, gripping it with each successive thrust and letting go at just the right mo ment so that I could slide nearly all the way out of his asshole.

Eric took his own cock in his hand and whacked away at it like he was trying to mix a load of wet cement. Every time I bumped into his prostate he moaned long and loud. His excitement only made me hotter. After five minutes or so I could feel the veins in my cock ready to pop from the build up of cum.

Eric must have felt it too, because he whispered, "Not yet." So I slid my cock out of his ass. Eric put me on my back and pro duced a bottle of poppers. As a rule, I don't get fucked, but to my surprise, suddenly I wanted Eric's dick up my ass in the worst way. I inhaled deeply and my butt muscles relaxed. Eric's cock popped in; with a mighty swing it disappeared all the way inside.

"Go slow at first," I begged.

Eric didn't seem to hear. "Tight when it's right and loose when it suits," he shot back.
Another hit of amyl and I could feel my entire body start to relax. For a minute or so Eric took it nice and easy, then he reared up on his haunches and put my hands on his rings. Every time I pulled on the rings, his cock shot up my ass and his breath flew out of his mouth in a gasp. I could feel him getting close to release.

"Give me your load," I whispered as he rammed his cock deep up my gut. I grip ped his nipple ring and he fucked me harder. Breathing fast, Eric flung his head from side to side, driving harder and harder into my asshole.

"You're fucked!" he cried aloud. At once his cock started to shoot in spurts up my asshole. One final tug on the rings made Eric shudder as if a thousand volts of elec tricity were being discharged inside him. Suddenly he let loose with a hot geyser of gushing cum.

We lay locked together for the longest time. When he pulled out and got to his feet, I said, "You look like you could use a shower."

Eric just grinned. In a flash he was standing alongside me. "Wanna come?" he asked.

We kept it up in the shower, in the kitch en, in an armchair, on the sofa, in the bed room. All night long and into the morning Eric bent over every which way to accom modate my cock, my needs, my dammed up desires. Somewhere along the way, out of breath, out of cum, we must have dropped off to sleep.

"What time is it?" Eric yawned.

Opening one eye, I looked at my watch. "Nine o'clock," I said in a hazy voice.

"I've got to pull myself out of bed," Eric apologized. "I've got band practice at ten."

I gripped his nipple ring and said, "One more time."

Eric's mouth met mine. Dark blond beard stubble had sprouted on his chin. When Eric kissed he really put his tongue into it! After a while Eric's tongue was traveling down my neck, licking, nibbling, and chewing at the hairs on my chest. Inches away from my cock, which was al ready on its way up with anticipation, he stopped.

Eric raised his head. "What are you do ing tonight?"

"No plans," I said. "What about you?"

Eric shrugged. The barest hint of a grin appeared between his lips and spread across his face. "Getting plowed?"