Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality From: email@example.com (Nevyn) Subject: Darryl. (Fiction, by Nevyn) Date: Thu, 19 May 94 23:11:51 GMT+1 Darryl by Nevyn Well it's a funny thing! I guess you just can't predict what consequences your actions can have in the long run. I just didn't realise what could happen if someone I knew read these stories. Darryl is a good friend of myself and Heather. I have known him since I was about seventeen. At least, I thought I knew him, but he revealed an aspect of his personality I never even suspected existed in him. I suppose that is something that keeps a friendship alive and interesting, never knowing your friends so well that they cease to be spontaneous and intriguing. We got together at a bar in Downtown Auckland, as we sometimes do, and it was early Friday evening. Work was over for the week, and a three day weekend was looming. We both work in the central city, both our offices located just off Queen St., so a nice, wind-down drink before the weekend was nothing unusual. We talked, and drank, bullshitted and burbled, and we both had very pleasant buzzes on after about two hours in the bar. Darryl got his Yuppie-phone out of his briefcase and phoned both our wives to tell them we would not be home for dinner, that we would snack out. Great! That freed up the rest of the evening for good company, good conversation. So we drank, and we talked, skirting the edges of drunkenness, but not really taking the plunge into full obliteration, and the conversation drifted and swayed, no subject staying current for more than about ten minutes. We ran the gambit from religion, to sex, to politics, to sex, to nuclear physics, to work, to sex, to war, to ethics, to politics, to sex... and so on. The conversation, at some stage, touched on computer BBS's. I said, that yeah, I had tried out a few, several, but only really frequented one. Mostly just flitted around amusing myself on the Pornography sections available. Darryl snorted into his Kahlua-&-Coke, "You always were a kinky bastard, weren't you?" I looked up from my sculpture made out of the glass coasters. It was supposed to look like a mound of shredded, soggy cardboard. It did, so I was happy with the result. My mouth seemed a bit sluggish from the Vodka, and my brain took a bit to kick over. "I'm as straight as the next pervert," I replied. Darryl seemed to hesitate a little, as if he were unsure of how to carry the conversation on, and he seemed to sober slightly. "I ummm, I got hold of something called the Auckland Smut Digest, couple of days back. Several issues, actually. You ever hear of it?" The way he asked. Damn him, the question was as loaded as nitroglycerin. I was too fuzzed to notice, I probably could have bluffed my way through a denial, if I was sober. But I wasn't and I didn't. "Yeah, read it all the time!" "Yeah, I thought you would have." The way he seemed to take control of the conversation indicated to me that he had been unsure of something, but now I had cleared up some doubt, and he had me by the balls, so to speak. "You ever hear of a guy called Nevyn?" Thud! I was sober. Just like that. A sudden cold sweat gripped me. I was caught. Guilty. Red handed. He had me. Trapped with nowhere to hide. He was looking at me, gauging my reaction. Examining me like a bug under a microscope. I knew he knew it was me! I feigned deep thought, "Ummm, isn't he the guy that writes about animals?" "Yeah, and isn't he the guy that's sitting opposite me in this bar? You know, there can't be many people who live on fifteen acres, and own a Great Dane and an Old English Mastiff." "C'mon, there must be dozens of people." I said weakly. "Cut the crap Nevyn." Of course, he used my real name. "You wrote those stories, which, I might add, are getting better. I even recognise the layout of your farm in them!" I was squirming, I knew what was coming next. I could feel the air gathering itself to hold the enormity of the next question. "So, ummm. So how much of that is real, and how much made up?" Darryl glanced at me over the rim of his glass, as though he had just asked the time of day, then placed it carefully on the table. Why didn't I just deny everything? Why didn't I just say it was all fiction, ha ha had you fooled didn't I? Why not just tell him I made the whole lot up? Well, Darryl and me, we go back a long way. We discovered Dope together. We used to get drunk together. We were closer than brothers. We had gone through ATI together, and lived to tell the tale. Darryl and I had toured most of the South Island together by motorcycle. To say we were close was to say space is big. Dammit, we even looked similar!! So I didn't deny everything for three very good reasons: 1) He was my friend and confidant, 2) He would have seen the lie a mile off, 3) I was drunk enough not to care! "How long have we been friends, Darryl?" "My god! That much huh?" He sat back and grinned hugely, "So you ARE as sick and perverted as I always thought you were." "Oh, what-the-fuck, Yep. Worse. The whole sh-bang is true. The only things I changed were the names." Incidentally, Darryl isn't Darryl's real name either, nor Heather. (Don't go thinking for one moment that Big Mac really IS named after a hamburger!!). Darryl leaned back and put his hands behind is head. He studied me for a minute, then reached forward and picked up his 3/4 full glass of Kahlua/Coke. He studied it for a while in silence, idly swilling the dark fluid around in the glass. He looked back up at me, and I could tell there was something else on his mind. He looked as though he were trying to make a decision, or wanted to say something else. I saw him almost imperceptibly shrug his shoulders, then he hefted his glass and drained it, shuddered slightly and placed it back on the table. He leaned suddenly forward and clasped his hands in front of him, looking me straight in the face. "Would you do for your best friend what you do for your dog?" "Wha-a err wh sorry?" "Nevyn, have you ever wanted to have sex with another man? Haven't you ever wanted to feel another man's dick in your hand? I know you, and I know you fuck your dogs," he had thoughtfully lowered his voice, so the other patrons in the bar wouldn't be disturbed. "Darryl, you great dumb prick, I've wanted you since, since, I don't know how long. But I always thought you were the `straight guy', and I valued our friendship so much, I didn't want to possibly damage it by letting you know how I feel. Fuckit, why didn't you let on sooner. We've been together for damn near fifteen years!" Now, I don't know how you, the reader, feels about bisexuality. I have always lived by the motto: `Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' and I believe that helping a friend achieve orgasm, sexual release, is a great gift, and a show of genuine affection. Whether that friend is male or female shouldn't make a difference. Fade out... Fade in... I told Heather, later that night, what Darryl and I had been discussing in the bar. She surprised me too by saying "You mean you didn't realise Darryl was sexually attracted to you? Good heavens. Me and Janene have known for years. So why don't you invite them over for the weekend, get them to stay over, say Saturday night?" Sometimes I feel that everyone around me knows what's going on but me. "What about you, and Janene. How does she feel about this kink of her husband's?" Heather smiled in the dark. I couldn't see it, but I heard it in her voice, "Janene has known for years, and perhaps she and I can amuse ourselves." Fade out... Fade in... There is nothing like a little good wine, and a little piece of homemade, dope-laced fruit loaf to loosen the inhibitions. We four had been working on the half-completed swimming pool, block-laying, concrete mixing, and now the evening was just falling, clear and warm. The glow of sunset still fiery in the west, and North-west the faint glow of the city was lighting the underside of the few clouds, an eerie ethereal light. An early dinner had been had, and with everyone pitching in, the dishes were made short work of. We were seated in a half round couch, sprawled out and relaxing sore muscles, just sipping a lovely, sweet, white desert wine, swimming in the quiet sussurations of classical music on the CD, and filling the small corners left after the meal with fruit loaf. The night was warm, but I had lit the fire in the open-hearth, the flames were throwing odd, flickering shadows in the dimmed light of the lounge. I was feeling very comfortable, very `home.' The conversation was just meandering along, we were all relaxed, basking in the warmth of each others company. Darryl sat up and leaned over to put his glass on the low coffee table. He groaned and rubbed at his shoulder-blade. "Nevyn, you dopey shit," he rumbled good-naturedly, "who the hell's bright idea was it to lay concrete blocks all day?" Janene leaned over and began massaging his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt "Aawww, a little sore after some Real work? Poor hubby. Office job making you soft?" Darryl closed his eyes and was fair purring under her touch, as she manipulated his sore muscles. "Hang on," Heather looked a little impish, "if you want to give a serious massage there, I think we've got some Sandalwood oil around here somewhere." she stood, and I could see by the slow and careful way she held herself, that she was feeling the effects of the hard work too. Presently she came back bearing an ornate bottle and a bunch of towels. She spread the towels on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire. The rug is really four sheepskins sewn together; our four-skin rug. (Yes, fore-skin is exactly what I meant). Darryl stood, with some effort, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He went to lie down, but I called out "And the rest. C'mon, let's see that body of yours. See if it really IS as big as you keep bragging!" I had seen Darryl nude before, but not since we had been married, and he had never (at least, not to my knowledge) been nude in front of my wife. He looked around the room, at his wife, for a refusal, and at Heather, for embarrassment, but finding no resistance, he shrugged and carefully shed his trousers and briefs, pulling them down slowly and turning his back to us. I barely caught a glimpse of his half-hard prick before he lay face-down on the towels. I felt a twitch in my pants, a small stirring; that body was gorgeous. We are physically quite similar: about the same height and build, well muscled, no wasted fat. But Darryl has wavy, light brown hair, and almost no hair on his body, whereas my hair is curly, darker and shorter, and I am a veritable carpet on my chest, legs and arms. Janene knelt down next to him and uncorked the bottle of oil, the air instantly becoming tainted with the faint, but strengthening musk of sandalwood, a kind of sweet, incense smell. She dribbled a little into her hands and warmed it, before slowly rubbing it into Darryl's back, around his shoulders and down toward his buttocks. As she increased the force of her massaging Darryl groaned deep and long with pleasure. I could see the golden flickers of firelight dancing against his oily bronzed skin, like an airbrush artwork by Boris. I glanced up at Heather, and she met my gaze. I motioned toward Darryl with my eyes and Heather lifted her eyebrows. I flicked my eyes toward Darryl again, and she nodded slightly. She slowly knelt opposite Janene and started to work on Darryl as well, kneading his muscles expertly. Again Darryl groaned a deep, satisfied groan, like a somnolent bear, deep in hibernation, satisfied with it's lot. Janene glanced up at me, and smiled. She flicked her head toward Darryl and raised her eyebrows in a question. Feigning ignorance I looked around the room, and then pointed toward myself, mouthing `Me?.' She nodded and went back to her work on Darryl. Oh what the hell, I thought, and dropped next to them, oiling my hands and starting work on his legs. As I began smoothing the oil onto his thighs Darryl spread his legs, to give me better access to his inner thighs, giving me a magnificent view between his legs to his ballbag. I massaged deep into his buttocks, and dragged my fingers from the base of his scrotum, up along the crack of his arse and back down again. Darryl sighed, and shifted his position slightly, obviously to relieve the pressure of lying on a growing hardon, and spread his legs even further. I could feel my own hardon starting to become uncomfortable in my briefs, as we worked on him, and I was imagining what it must feel like having three pairs of hands gently but firmly kneading the fatigue out of tired, knotted muscles. Eventually Janene suggested Darryl turn over. I was surprised when, relaxed as one can get without being a liquid, Darryl sighed and rolled over onto his back, eyes closed and an expression on his face saying `Do to me anything you want, only don't stop.' His cock sproinged to attention, the pattern from the towel embossed into it. I still had the leg-end of Darryl, so I oiled my hands again and went to work on his quadriceps. As I was pouring the oil into my hands, warming it in preparation for application, I noticed Heather and Janene share a secret smile. Perhaps this situation wasn't as unplanned as I thought it was. Oh well, go with the flow. If it feels good, feel it. I worked on his legs, pushing my hands forward, up his thighs, onto his hips, and back down to his thighs. As my fingers passed, his erect member pulsed slightly, bobbing as if on an invisible string. Obviously this was turning Darryl on something terrible. Lightly I brushed my fingers over his legs, then between them, nearly from his arsehole, slowly, slowly up to the base of his ballbag, then up over the warm mound of his scrotum, through his soft, downy pubic hair, lightly from the base of his prick, following the sensitive underside with my fingers, then playing briefly around the circumcised head. I could feel the hot flesh throbbing beneath my fingertips, and Darryl sighed deeply, "Oh god that feels good. Don't you ever, EVER stop doing that." He shivered slightly as I moved my fingers slowly down the veined shaft again, to stroke that soft fur of his pubic hair. Again I dragged my hands over his flesh, from his knees, slowly, slowly up his thighs, to the base of his prick, brushing over his balls. Well oiled, my hand closed around his turgid meat, and slid up to the swollen head, and back down. Up and back down, my other hand fondling his balls. Then I carefully dragged my hands back down his thighs. Darryl lifted his hips, his bobbing member questing after the hand that had briefly brought such exquisite stimulation. A drop of thick, clear lubricant dripped slowly from the tip, to ooze down, and settle on his fine-haired, well muscled abdomen. My own cock was swelling in my trousers, straining at the fabric, and making me uncomfortable. I reached into my waistband, and adjusted myself. Oh what the fuck, I thought, and began removing my clothes. "Going to join the growing trend?" I motioned to Heather and Janene to remove their clothes too. They looked at each other, hesitated for a few seconds, and then joined in. Heather has a lovely body, but I always like to appreciate new flesh, and looked long and hard (if you'll pardon the pun) at Janene's body. Not as tanned as Heather's, and a little more fat, but bigger breasts. Mmmm, I could imagine tonguing that lovely pair of pert nipples. "You have beautiful breasts. I was just imagining tonguing that lovely pair of pert nipples." I waggled my tongue lewdly at Janene. Heather guffawed loudly and tried to hide her giggles in her hand. She turned away, snorting, and knelt back down next to Darryl to carry on the massage. Janene blushed a little and smiled at me, then knelt down opposite Heather, working on Darryl's chest and arms. Leg end again for me huh? Again I began working on his legs, and around his genitals, oiling him heavily with the scented lubricant. Janene sat back on her heels and flexed her fingers out in front of her. "Not used to giving massage huh?" said Heather, "Here, you lie down on this towel, and I'll give your back a rub." Janene gratefully collapsed onto the floor and surrendered to Heather's expert manipulations of sore muscles, as I continued working on Darryl. He was getting very horny, as demonstrated by the rivulet of clear fluid leaking from the tip of his rigid dick, pooling onto his abdomen. And I was aching in the balls myself, horny from rubbing against his muscled body. As I ran my hands up his thighs, Darryl opened his legs further, so I knelt between them. This allowed me to rub in long, slow passes, from his knees, up his thighs, past and around his dick, over his hips, along his stomach up onto his chest. And accidentally tweak his nipples as I rubbed back down his body. Next time, as I rubbed up, I gently stroked his dick with one hand, and brushed my fingers lightly through his pubic hair. I felt his dick jump slightly in my hand, and he sighed. I oiled my hands again, and began to stroke both hands alternately up his shaft, pulling on his dick with my slippery hands. Darryl began to tighten his leg muscles, and I could tell he was nearing orgasm, so I relented and began scratching around his ballbag with my nails. I leaned forward and touched the tip of his dick with my tongue. Should I? I have fantasized about it enough. Should I take this mans meat down my throat? I glanced over at Heather and Janene. They were both looking at me and smiling, nodding that I should continue. Oh well, no opposition there. Again I leaned forward and held the base of his dick with one hand, fondling his balls with the other, and slowly ran my lips over the head of his dick, over the ridge where the glans joins the penis proper, and licked my tongue against the seamed underside. I was careful that my teeth didn't touch his sensitive meat, I know that can be uncomfortable, and as my lips met my fingers at the base of his dick, I flexed the back of my tongue to push against his dick. My other hand I slid down between his legs through the crack of his arse. "Man oh man that feels heavenly" Darryl groaned. I was glad he was enjoying this as much as me. I pulled my head back slightly to slide my lips back up his shaft, the faint taste of oil in my mouth, not unpleasant, mixing with the vague, untaste of his clear lubricant. My right hand followed my lips up his shaft, and my left hand traced up from his arsehole back to his balls. Again I went down, feeling his rigid meat slip to the back of my throat, my lips following my right hand down, my left hand sliding back down to his arse. A little pressure there and the tip of my finger popped into his tight hole, helped by the liberal oil coating. I felt his sphincter muscles squeeze hard on my finger, and his cock jumped in my mouth, as his whole body shook. Thinking he didn't like my finger caressing him internally I was going to pull out, but he sighed and groaned in pleasure. This was getting me soooo horny, My balls were aching for release, and my dick was oozing a constant stream of clear fluid. I had never given a man a blowjob before, but, by the gods, this wasn't going to be the last! Perhaps I would find out what it was like to screw a man. The thought thrilled me. Slightly faster now, I gradually increased the tempo of my lips up and down the length of his meat, and worked my finger around his anus a little. Darryl bent his knees and splayed his legs out, thrusting his hips forward almost imperceptibly into my mouth. He was on the edge of orgasm now, so I slowed a little, just to hold him on the verge of coming. Playing my tongue around the swollen tip of his dick I eased my finger out of his arse and just traced around his entrance, my right hand scratching through his pubic hair at the base of his prick. "Oh, man, you're torturing me!" his prick bobbed slightly. He was close, so close now! Suddenly I dropped my head down, taking his dick deep down my throat, and pushed my finger back into his hole, then pulled back, sucking for all I was worth, and sliding my hand up after my lips. Back down and up, working my finger in his arse. Darryl breathed in deeply and grabbed the sides of my head with his hands, knotting his fingers into my hair. He thrust his hips forward convulsively and arched his back, forcing his meat far back in my throat. Then his fingers squeezed my head convulsively and his dick jumped, pulsed as a wad of hot liquid jetted into my throat. I swallowed, and moved my head back slightly, pumping his dick with my hand. Darryl grunted, and again his cock pulsed. The finger in his warm hole was squeezed tightly in synch with the waves of his orgasm. My tastebuds were flooded with the taste of him; not as bad as I was anticipating, quite different to dog come. Every time I swallowed, another pump of his cock brought forth more come, and I was loving it. This was the first time I had tasted human come; never having tried my own (some people enjoy licking their own come out of their women. Something I was never keen on.) The texture of the sperm in my mouth was unusual. Difficult to swallow, but not too bad. The force of his spasms were easing, so I slipped my finger from his arse, and relaxed the massage of his dick. Carefully I cleaned all traces of the semen from his dick with my tongue, and sat back on my heels. Janene and Heather applauded quietly. "My god!" Darryl still had his eyes closed, and was lying, drained and relaxed, "Where the hell did you learn to do that! Janene, take notes from this man." "That was my pleasure. Now I have a small problem that needs taking care of." I HAD to get my rocks off NOW!!