About the editors:
Jesse Grant is a writer and publishing executive living in Los Angeles. He is editor of Friction: Best Gay Erotic Fiction, Volume 3 and the forthcoming sports and sex anthology Men for All Seasons.
Austin Foxxe is editor in chief of Men and Freshmen magazines. He is also editor of the erotic fiction anthology Slow Grind. He lives in Los Angeles.
|Edition description:||1 ED|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 1.03(d)|
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Now and Then
I don't understand the time warp, I just enjoy it. The professor tells me to stay the hell out of it, but he says this while he's got his dick up my ass, and anything said during a fuck doesn't count, at least not to me. So I indulge myself, so to speak, because there are things I like better about then as opposed to now although then and now sort of lose their context on these particular trips.
It's really more place than time, these voyages, even though I know time alters place. The result is always an unfamiliarity that in itself finally becomes familiar. I awaken from a state just this side of sleep to find myself somewhere so far beyond beyond that I feel a kind of weightlessness, then a gradual settling, like coming back down to earth when I've never left. And then I take in the sights, which are always remarkable.
I've learned not to ask exactly when I've landed and if where isn't apparent I don't ask that either. Questions are a giveaway, at least those kinds of questions, so I just try to blend in.
I've taken maybe a dozen time trips, and the professor knows ithow I'm not sure. I wonder if I'm leaving some kind of snail-trail or maybe come-trail because, you see, I'm travelling strictly for the fucks.
"If you'd gather a bit of scientific data," the professor says during one of his tirades, "I wouldn't mind so much. But all you're doing is coming in another millennium. It's such a waste."
"They don't thinkso."
He shakes his head and huffs, almost endearing with his genius pout. I sidle up behind him and grope his crotch, and he doesn't stop me. "And I won't have you fucking in three different millennia," he says, pushing into my hand. "There have to be limits!" I unzip his fly and fish out his dick, and he goes quiet. He always does.
I won't call all this a problem because I'm having too much fun. Situation is more accurate because I genuinely adore the professor, this 50-year-old scientist-stud who took a mere lab techie under his wing and into his bed. I already had a crush on him so everything was quite welcome and he's a great fuck, don't get me wrong. It's just that when I tried out the time warp in his absence things got complicated and now there's this issue between us. Come spread out over three millennia. What a kick.
"You're too bright for your own good," the professor says as I suck his dick. We're in the lab, me just back from my latest jaunt, ass full of future-come, and the professor starts thrusting into my mouth. I suck his long shaft, tongue cradling him until he's fully primed. He's talking the whole time, telling me it's not real out there, that I have to remember it's a warp, that I haven't really gone anywhere. I keep sucking. Listening and sucking.
"You'll have to give me a full report," he says as I pull back to play with his fat knob. The professor is well endowed, mind and body, and I like to handle his big cock as much as he likes to stick it up my ass. "I hope you made at least some scientific observations this time," he adds. And then he pulls out and slips on a condomhe carries them in his labcoatwhile I strip. He mounts me from behind as I grip a table, and I savor the feel of that hose snaking up into my rectum.
The professor is never urgent. As with his scientific inquiries, he fucks methodically and I enjoy the ride. My own cock is just the opposite, and I last about three strokes before squirting cream all over the table. The professor pauses, peers over my shoulder, and murmurs his approval. He always saves my jism. I don't know what he does with it, but I like the idea.
He resumes his fuck and we settle into an easy rhythm, and then he says, "Tell me about your trip." As much as he dislikes my little runaway adventures, he still gets charged at the idea of future fucking.
"I'm not sure they're people," I tell him. "But then I've run into that before. Maybe by the fourth millennium human beings have superseded themselves. Anyway, they look human, of course, only better. It was the same as always about where, a lab but empty looking, as if they don't need devices. I didn't ask"
"But you should!" the professor shouts, ramming his dick into my ass for emphasis. "One or two questions could bring me so much."
I give it a second and he resumes his stroke, hands on my hips, cock steadily thrusting. I continue; I'm getting to be an expert at giving reports while taking a prick up the backside. "So I'm in this lab alone but I don't hang around. Outside it's beautiful, there's a kind of serenity in the air, almost like it's part of the air, like the air has been drugged. Some kind of natural high."
The professor starts fucking madly at this, over-excited at such a discovery. He's squealing now, and I know he wants information as much as he wants to come. He gets off on all kinds of things. "I keep taking these deep breaths," I continue, "because the air is so sweet but not in a scented kind of way. It's what it does to you, and I realize I'm getting a hard-on from just breathing. Just from air. And then I wonder if it does this to everyone, if they're all walking around with stiff dicks or is it just us newcomers who are overwhelmed." I start laughing now because I've made a pun. The professor isn't interested, he's almost there now, but I won't give up. "Newcomer!" I say. "Get it?"
He doesn't acknowledge my attempt at humor. The fuck has taken him over and he's very unprofessorlike as his dick squirts its load. "Fucking shit!" he cries. "Oh, fuck it, oh God, yes, fuck it! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
I grip the table as he slams into me, stopping my narrative to listen. I love it when he gets dirty. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he shouts, and I know each fuck is a pulse of come. I savor the idea of his highly educated dick spewing cream like us commoners, never mind science or millennia or anything. "Fuck," he says one final time before slumping against me. I squeeze my muscle and he groans. "You don't need the future do you, Jason?"
"Need? No, of course not. I have everything here." I nuzzle back into him, give it a second, then add, "But the lure of adventure is very powerful."
He yanks his dick out of me and storms to the bathroom, wounded yet again. I've reminded him so many times that I'm faithful in this world, but that never seems enough for him. It's become a sore point and yet I can usually get around it. Geniuses are such babies about life and sex and all the good stuff.
I purposely don't put on my pants because I know he'll want to hear the full narrative of my journey and also that he likes it best when I stretch out on the corner sofa and play with my dick as I tell it. I settle there now and wait.
He ignores me at first, acting professorlike, capital P-h-fucking-D, acting as if he's never stuck his cock up a techie's ass or any ass for that matter. I ignore him back and he glances at me as if I'm just some kid masturbating in a corner but after a few minutes at his desk he settles into the old leather armchair opposite me. He adjusts his cock and says, "Tell me more." He's got a notepad on the arm of the chair; he writes down the non-sex parts, eager for clues about the future in the crumbs I bring him. I keep telling him he should go, but I think he's afraid of what he's found.
"The atmosphere," he prompts. "How did it affect you as time passed, aside from the hard-on?"
"I don't think time passes there. It all seemed stopped in some way, like maybe they found the right moment and just kept it. But maybe not. It was just a feeling I got."
The professor gives me an exaggerated sigh. "You've got to be more observant, Jason. If you're going to keep sneaking into the warp without permission, without guidance, the least you can do is maintain a minimal level of scientific inquiry."
I go silent and look down at my prick instead of him. It's starting to fill and I wag and squeeze until he says, very softly, "Go on."
"So I've got this hard-on and it feels urgent, like I might just come with no hands any second, and ... oh, wait, did I mention I'm naked? Sorry, didn't mean to leave that out, but it was so natural. So it's all very smooth outside, clear, fresh, with that great air. No buildings even though I was just in one, but I've learned things like that happen, things come and go. Oh, man, another pun, get it? Come and go?"
The professor frowns. My dick is hard now because it knows where we're headed. "Go on," the professor says.
"So there are trees and lawns, everything soft. No concrete, no streets or sidewalks, and then I see this kind of meadow, and there they are, these people if that is what they really are. And I just walk right in among them because I look like them or them me. I mean we're all naked, we're all blond, and we've all got major boners."
"Jason," the professor snaps and I look up at a scowl. "You're not making this up, are you? It's a bit much."
"It's the fucking future!" I say, ticked off that he doesn't believe me, which makes me work my dick even harder. Juice starts running out my slot and down my hand. "And maybe they're not so uptight," I add, mustering all the indignance possible with a cock in my hand.
He considers this, then says; "I just don't want to be manipulated. If this is simply one of your little masturbation plays please tell me as I have better things to do."
He doesn't, of course, at least not in my book. Science will always lose out to a good dickoff. "It's real," I say. "Honest to God."
I close my eyes and stroke my cock as I continue. "At first I think there's really no difference between them and me. They don't say anything but hands are all over me, warm hands, too warm. That's the first clue, like they're artificially heated and it's a notch too high. One is pulling my cockdid I say they're all gorgeous, young, firm, smooth, tanned?and the rest are watching. It's like it's all kind of ceremonial, like they know I'm from somewhere else, but boy it feels a lot more than that and I'm still sucking in that drugged air and it's starting to feel like it's going into my prick and my ass, and then it's like I'm sort of oozing, my whole body about to dissolve into a pool of come. And they know it. They smile and this guy playing with my dick starts fondling my balls and then another is behind me sticking a finger up my ass and it feels sweet, there's no other way to describe it, not a tasting kind of sweet but still sweet. Honest to God. And I feel some kind of lube, warm and so smooth, and God I love even that, and then, when I'm so ready I'm about to scream, the crowd parts and up steps this guy who must be the king or something because his cock is about a foot long and they're all kind of bowing to it. I just stare at it and suddenly I can feel it in my mouth even though he's 10 feet away. He's aimed at me and he's like this Greek god, so handsome, curly blond hair, perfect features, incredible blue eyes, red mouth, and pecs I want to climb on and down below a bush of yellow silk and then that missile. And I want him to fuck me so bad I start to wiggle because there is still a finger up my ass and the guy is still playing with my cock.
"The Greek god smiles as if he gets the message and they lower me to this thick lawn and it's cool and warm all at once. I'm on my back now and I don't have to do anything. They pull my legs up so my ass is positioned perfectly, sort of hanging there, and a guy even pulls open my cheeks and I feel this kind of air-enema go up me, as if they're blowing the channel clean, and that feels good, everything does. And then...."
I couldn't go on. I was working my prick and about to come, and I looked over at the professor who had his hand at his crotch, rubbing himself as he watched me. His look was a sort of scolding lust that I'd seen before. And then I'm going over, juice shooting up onto my belly as I pump my meat. I'm thinking of the Greek god and what he's going to do to me, and it makes the climax keep on going, as if part of him is still in me. When I'm finally done, breathing hard, limp dick in hand, the professor simply says, "And?"
"Gimme a second," I say, knowing I have to lie here with come all over me because he'll want to harvest it, as he says. But first the future.
"All right," I say finally and as I picture it, it starts to feel real and it doesn't matter that I've just emptied my balls. My cock twitches and my nuts start to swell. I take a deep breath and continue. "So I'm sort of hanging there in their arms, ass up, and he's there at my hole which has been cleaned and I know he's clean as well, it's like he's telling me in some way, and then he sticks his dick in me."
I stop the narrative for the initial few strokes because they are truly other-worldly and the professor clears his throat because he doesn't want me going off so totally. Going off, all right. My prick is getting hard again. I can't believe this.
"So the guy, the Greek god," I say, "fucks me." I'm afraid to tell much more because I don't want to hurt the professor and yet I know he wants to know while at the same time he hates it. But never mind all that because my ass feels like the whole other world is going up into my bowels, so warm it feels like a creature all its own, so sweet I think I'm salivating. Jesus, I am. I swallow and I have to grab my dick because I'm so ready, so already ready. I'd call it an out-of-body experience if it wasn't so in-body.
"Tell me what you're feeling right now, Jason," the professor says. "You're turning a shade of pink that's a bit beyond human."
I hadn't noticed but now I look down. I'm a sort of magenta color, hot pink without the hot, cool looking except underneath I'm saturated with heat. And all the while I can feel the Greek god's cock up my rectum and come is boiling in my balls and those balls are straining my sac. "Tell me," the professor says, leaning toward me now. His look is something between sexually excited and scientifically excited, which is so very much the professor, the only guy who could mix the two and enjoy it. "Tell me about the fuck," he says. "I know he's doing you right now so give me details, please. It appears this particular fuck has transcended the time warp and we haven't experienced that before."
I'm looking at my genius mentor, my teacher, employer, the man I admire more than any on earth, and as I do I'm feeling that dick pumping in and out of me and I can't really find words. My mouth is open, my eyes are fixed, sort of lost to the moment. I see the Greek god instead of the professor; I stare at his hard nipples and wish I could suck on one. I'm stroking my prick while all this plays inside me and outside me, and then I feel the Greek god start to come. He doesn't go frantic like we do and he doesn't make a sound; his cock just sort of does things on its own, contracting and shooting stream after stream, recoiling inside me like a repeating rifle. The come is hot and it goes up me in gushers, in waves, and I feel myself filling. There's an urgency now, I'm reaching capacity, and it gives the fuck a kind of sweet agony that pushes me over and I come like never before. As cream pulses out my slot I wonder if it's even mine, there is so much, and when I finally stop, which seems like minutes later, my stomach is awash in jism. The professor runs a finger through it because it's a gorgeous sky blue and has a scentnot a smell. He sniffs it, runs a fingerful by my nose. "Remarkable," he says. "You've brought me quite a treat. Our first sample from the future." He leans over and kisses my cheek. "You don't have to tell me any more."
I lie still while he scoops all the blue come into a beaker. My skin is now its usual human pale pink and I'm having trouble remembering the Greek god or his fuck. I can feel it getting away and it scares me. I tell this to the professor.
"The fourth millennium seems to have control over the warp," he says, all professorial now which is what I want, "and I suspect the inhabitants might not appreciate our intrusion. They've allowed you a bit of recall as a sort of consolation, but they essentially want you to forget them. A privacy issue, most likely." He comes over and sits beside me and fondles my tired prick.
"Why won't you tell the world that you've discovered a time warp?" I ask him for what must be the hundredth time. He's never answered me before, but he does now. "They'd all want to go," he says a bit sadly. "Who could resist such freedom?" His hand gently traces my cockhead. "Promise me you'll stay here from now on. No more warp trips."
He kisses me and my tongue meets his; I feel his breath against my own. And then he takes his beaker of blue come to his workable and begins to prepare slides. I think about the promise I've made him and how I make it after each trip. He knows it won't be kept.
Table of ContentsPreface by Jesse Grant
Now and Then by Dale Chase
Ready by R.J. March
Gorgeous Tits by Roddy Martin
The Hot Nine at 9:00 by Derek Kemp
Firebomber: Cigar Sarge by Jack Fritscher
Basic Training by Michael Cavanaugh
Hot Shave and a Haircut by Lance Rush
Knowing Johnny by Bob Vickery
Gustavo by T. Hitman
Peeping Tom by Sean Wolfe
For Real by Dominic Santi
Stripped of Inhibitions by Pierce Lloyd
He by Daddy Bob Allen writing as Lee Alan Ramsay
Hunger Takes Over by Thom Wolf
Just a Matter of Time by Jordan Baker
Crossing Thresholds by Alexander Welch
Joe Pornstar by Alan Mills
Second Chances by Grant Foster
Smoker by Dale Chase
Scottie by R.J. March
Getting Even by Simon Sheppard
Spice Up Your Life by Nick Montgomery
Invasion of Privacy by R.W. Clinger
Hitchcock by Bob Vickery
Bear With a Brick by Lance Rush
Out in the Woods by Brent Muller
The Wrong Guy by Michael Cavanaugh
Under Way by Dominic Santi
The Harley by M. Christian
The Beckoning by Jonathan Asche
Base on Balls by T. Hitman
Sharing Jeff by Barry Alexander
Unraveling Hayden by Lance Rush
Line Cabin Fever by J.D. Ryan
Virtual Virgin by R.J. March
Of Monsters and Men by Wendy C. Fries
The Opportunist by Derek Adams
Santee's Equation by Dale Chase
The Daddy Thing by Bob Vickery
Jacked In by Alan Mills
The All-Nighter by T. Hitman
The Deceivers by Jordan Baker
CBGB 1977! by Jack Fritscher