Part 1 - England:

Barry was a young gay guy; eighteen years-old before he found what he really liked, twenty-one before he finally found what he needed. Irish by parentage, he was born and brought up in London, England. Physically he was a dark Celt, tall and slim, with black wavy hair, piercing light blue eyes and smooth pale skin. Barry had high cheekbones and a killer full lipped smile, which sadly he showed all too rarely.

Brought up as he was, strictly, in a devout Catholic family, with religious schooling, regular Church attendance and service as an altar boy, he struggled with guilt over his sexuality.

Barry always knew that he was gay, even at a young age, although he was outwardly very masculine in his general behaviour. He was the very opposite of any 'queer' stereotype - the kind of effeminate, rather flamboyant gays as depicted so often on television and in films. He was very much a 'man's man' in his habits; he liked his beer, playing poker and most of all he loved sports. He'd even been the captain of the London area school hurling team, a very fast and aggressive Irish Gaelic sport.

His late school years were, in ways, the best times of his life. He'd run with a group of friends throughout his West London neighbourhood. Well known locally, and to each other, as the 'Irish Boys,' Barry, with 'Mad' McKeigue, Mullarkey, Gerald and Chris Hennessy, kicked up a storm. They played sports together, fought against others and amongst themselves at times, played hooky from school, scammed for money and generally raised hell, somehow always just avoiding trouble, be it from their parents, the police or worst of all the local priests.

Being good-looking and in great shape, naturally he attracted the attentions of the local girls. In denial, and to maintain his status with his friends, he dated several. On occasion he even screwed with them. Sure he could do it; he could make out. But always as he was thrusting down into a girl's pussy from above, or riding it from behind, in his mind's eye, the one that counts, he was fucking a man, a handsome young stud like himself. When he masturbated it was exclusively with the thoughts of men.

To his later regret, he'd even joined in at school with the bullying of Seamus Byrne, a sad very effeminate boy, with a girlish high-pitched voice. He'd joined in the taunting, the sly punches and kicks that the others had meted out. You see, in his community, to be a gay, a fag, a queer, a poof, a shirt-lifter, a sodomite, or whatever name was hung on it, and there were many, was to cut yourself off, to be rejected by friends and family alike. It was a kind of social death sentence.

A form of liberation, or awakening, came to Barry on his eighteenth birthday. Having just eaten a huge meal prepared by his doting mother and rather cloying older sisters, he escaped from his family to the tranquillity of his bedroom to get dressed up. He was going clubbing that night with some friends to celebrate.

Having dressed, and with some time to spare before his best friend Gerald, known as Jez, came round in his car to pick him up, he turned his computer on and surfed around some of his favourite Internet sites. Again and again, Barry was drawn to the same saved pages from his Yahoo groups: Tom of Finland 1, 2, 3 and 4. Drawings and cartoon images filled the screen. Idealised visions of muscular, hung gay men.

Handsome clothed guys posing; bodybuilders' nude with muscles and cocks pumped; truckers getting it on in the woods; cops fucking prisoners; comic strips of nervous young men getting it on for the first time with hung studs. He loved these images of strong guys with big hard cocks. There was nothing feminine, nothing soft here. These idealised images fed on Barry's own personality and desires. It almost as if the late artist Tom had read his mind.

Barry's cock was pulsing and straining inside his trousers. He badly needed relief, and pulled open the zipper and freed his cock. He jerked it and rubbed the mushroom shaped head for a while, then pulled the trousers and his crisp white boxer shorts down.

He leant back in his chair as a slideshow of his favourite pictures played on the screen. Barry slipped one finger under his butt and worked it inside his asshole. From his other hand, his fingers slowly and firmly pulled up and down on his cock. He felt good. Most of all Barry revelled in the 'cowboy' scenes. For some reason he had a recurrent fantasy of being fucked by older American men dressed this way, with the boots, the big buckled belts and the Stetson hats

Soon a familiar wave of pleasure and relief hit him and he spurted out hot cum all over his right hand.

Barry was just about to take a tissue from his bedside and clean off when, fuck, the door flew open and a familiar voice greeted him. His best friend Jez entered the room.

"Hey, Bazza, get your lazy ass out of............. What the fuck!"

Jez was gob smacked, utterly bewildered and shocked as he looked down at his friend sitting exposed in a chair, one hand covered in cum, attempting unsuccessfully to cover his balls and his big erect cock as cartoon images of muscular men sucking each others cocks and fucking each others butts played on the computer monitor. The two friends looked at each other for a few seconds, unable even to speak.

After what seemed to them to be an age, Barry spoke first, with his usual wit and elegance:

"Jez shut the fucking door, for Christ's sake!"

"Ok mate."

With this, Barry quickly slipped his shorts and trousers back on and wiped his hands clean on a tissue. He looked at the floor, he felt embarrassed and humiliated. Well, what ensued certainly was a surprise. Jez was not disgusted at all. He just came to the conclusion that the situation was extremely funny. He began laughing almost uncontrollably. This, in turn, as it always did, set Barry off too, and soon they both laughed so much that tears were filling their eyes.

Eventually they chilled out. They discussed things, Barry admitted that yes he did find gay stuff a turn-on, because "Jez I am gay."

Jez just nodded and slipped an arm around his friend's shoulder. No-one had actually stopped the slideshow, which was running on a loop. Gerald looked at it for a moment, deep in thought, then turned and looked Barry straight in the eye.

"Fuck it Barry," Jez said, "I might as well 'fess up too; I like guys sexually; I'm not gay, well not entirely, I'm bi, and I've been active both ways for months. Jez had a regular girlfriend, Theresa, he but revealed, "One or two nights every week I go to gay clubs in Soho. I've been picked up, I've kissed men, been sucked off, had cocks in my mouth and my ass, and Bazza, I fucking love it mate, and I find you very, very sexy."

With this, they fell into a mutual kiss, tongue dancing against tongue. Jez then dropped to his knees and quickly freed Barry's cock. Although it was only a very few minutes since he had cum powerfully, he was young and fit, and his tool was pulsing and leaking pre-cum even before it hit Jez's mouth. Jez sucked his friend greedily until he came, and swallowed each and every drop.

At Jez's prompting, Barry dressed and cleaned up in the washroom after this, and they left the house after saying their goodbyes to Barry's family.

In Jez's car, Barry reiterated the plan for the night, call for the boys and hit a cheap 'happy hour' pub, sink a few then hit the clubs. All in all, a typical Saturday night, except for the birthday situation.

Pretty much this happened. Infuriatingly to Barry, Jez even started kissing and hugging with a girl on the dance floor at one club, before disappearing with her, then returning looking somewhat flushed 20 minutes later.

Barry was fuming, and as he sat at the bar and watched his friend dancing rhythmically once again, he almost felt sick. Jez was actually slightly camp in his manner; there was a sort of femininity about him. He was shorter and slimmer than Barry, and the way he walked and pouted his lips as he talked exaggerated this.

As McKeigue said to Barry, "If it weren't for his women, you'd swear he was gay."

Later that evening Jez got Barry on his own. In a quiet corner he told Barry that his older brother was away and that he had the keys to his apartment. Blatantly he was asking Barry back for sex. Despite his annoyance, Barry's lust was big and he agreed.

Back there, in the next 48 hours, in a big bed, in the shower, over a table, on a rug in front of a fire and once on top of a spinning washing-machine, Barry got his awakening. He fucked Jez's tight ass hour upon hour.

Despite Jez being the experienced one, Barry's natural air of authority, his latent aggression and his bigger size, in terms of weight, height and cock led to him being dominant. Basically, Barry found he most liked having his cock sucked and fucking ass. For Jez, the turn-on was to have a physically strong man dominate him and fill up with hard cock. Mouth or butt, Jez just loved to receive cum.

Barry had a great time, learning that surprisingly a man's nipples could be stimulated to heighten arousal, how to roll his tongue around a guy's cock-head, and up and down the shaft, how to suck and knead balls, how to work on an asshole to loosen it up for a fucking with tongue and fingers. What lube heightened the pleasure. How a prostate gland made a man enjoy having his ass stimulated inside. All of it.

Second day together, Jez fucked Barry's lubed ass. It hurt a bit, although not as much as he'd thought, and he enjoyed it.

The patterned remained though, as it did for the nearly three years they were together, that mainly Barry was the 'fucker,' and Jez the 'receiver.' It was just the way things were, what they both enjoyed.

A couple of months after Barry's birthday, they both left London, away from their judgemental friends and families, who still didn't know they were gay, or at least never overtly voiced this opinion.

The two of them had surprisingly done ok with their school exams, and they entered a South Coast university together, though on different courses. Instead of, as most Freshers did, moving into college halls, they rented a room in a house, working at part times jobs to make good the finance.

In the liberal atmosphere and circles they moved in, they almost never met any prejudice. Sure, part of the reason for this was they, especially Barry, were not the touchy, feely types in public, but to anyone who knew them, and they were two popular guys, they were openly gay.

Much of the time they spent together was idyllic; the sex stayed hard and hot. Also, they had enough differing interests, Barry with his sports, and Jez with his drama and art obsessions, not to always be in each others pockets; they had some breathing room in their relationship.

Second year there, they had a brief split, Jez walked out after an argument. Next month or so Barry found a couple of other guys to fuck, he guessed Jez had too, but somehow it was never as good. It was fun, but the chemistry the two enjoyed was somehow missing, on both a physical and psychological level. That they would get back together always had a kind of inevitability about it.

Yet, there was one thing, one very big thing, that was between them, and made, to Barry, their lives a complete sham, a total lie. No, it was not the fact that their families and friends back in their enclave of West London apparently didn't know, and weren't told, that they were a couple. It was the fact that every Christmas, Easter, and long summer vacation, Jez would go home and carry on his relationship with Theresa, who became, in time, his fiancee.

Barry hated this, but such was his love for Jez that he went along with it. He'd promised Jez that he would never object to the fact that he needed women as well as men sexually, and he kept to his word.

A pattern developed that Barry hardly ever stayed back in London. Instead, in his vacations he travelled a lot, a thing he loved to do, exploring new places, new cultures and countries. Although not an extrovert, his calm, amiable personality made it easy for him to adapt wherever he was.

He travelled and worked in several European countries during his university days, and spent one especially memorable trip working as a beach vendor in Sydney, Australia. Still being very overtly masculine and straight acting, he never found the gay scene an attraction. He had nothing against it, but it just never was his thing.

From time to time he found a nice fuck-buddy. 'Hell,' he thought, 'if Jez can go with someone else so can I, guilt free.' He tended to pick up guys either through his sporting encounters, or occasionally on a beach or in a straight bar. The unspoken communication, the look, stare, stance, shy smile and ways that straight-acting gays have of communicating their sexuality with each other were ones that Barry was very tuned in with.

The end of their final semester at university marked a big watershed in Barry's life. Along with the farewells, the parties; there was the realisation of how his and Jez's relationship was now doomed.

Jez was set on living back in London, and had a good job lined up. What he also told Barry as they were driving away from the South Coast town for the last time was a dagger to his heart. He told Barry he was marrying Theresa, but:

"I still want us to be lovers when we can, and also I want you to be my best man at my wedding."

Barry's reply, "Stop the fucking car now!" It was spoken with such utter aggression and certainty that a shocked Jez did indeed pull up.

He stormed out onto the hard shoulder of the M27 motorway, climbed a fence, walked for four miles across fields before he found a small town, went into a pub and got drunk as hell.

That night Barry slept out in a ditch, woke cold and wet the next morning, got a bus, got a train, went home and told his Mother everything, each and every detail. In the next week all his close family learned of his sexuality; biggest surprise? They accepted him as he was, all of them, even his father, despite Barry noticing a disappointment in the old man's eyes.

Although feeling a kind of warmth with his family, almost finding a haven, a place to heal up after a broken heart, Barry made some plans. Next year he would do the one-year teacher training course he needed to be fully qualified, and in the mean time he would spend the time travelling, he fancied seeing America. Conveniently, his Mother had a brother in Boston, and a phone call fixed him up starting place, or base camp, for his travels.

Part 2 - America:

Over in Boston, Barry found his uncle's household to very similar to the one he had grown up in, in London. It was the usual cliche kind of Irish abroad stuff, a strange over sentimentality for a country voluntarily left behind. There were the same pictures on the walls of the main family room, of the Pope and John F Kennedy; and the all too familiar love/hate relationship with whisky and beer. If you substituted his uncle's family's obsession with the Celtics basketball team for his own family's devotion to supporting Queens Park Rangers football (soccer as it's known to our American friends) club, he could almost still be at home with his parent's.

Barry felt stifled in Boston, and resolved to travel around, to see some of the States. He had this image in his head of the open road, of the quest for travel and experience. Despite lacking a green card work permit, he got a job as a salesman, going on the road selling specialist watches and jewellery. His job was specifically to hit the malls and shops in mid to small sized towns, and try to get independent retailers to stock them.

Since he had split from Jez, and come to America, in two months his sex life had consisted of a one-night stand with a really weird submissive Mexican guy in Arizona and a fun afternoon by a river fucking the butt of a cute young blond haired farm-worker in Iowa. Apart from that, it was the old routine of jerking off with only his imagination for company in cheap motel rooms, which, wherever he was, somehow always seemed so depressingly familiar. He still couldn't take the gay scene or gay bars. Somehow, he just found it too feminine and too cynical. It was fine for many he thought, just not for him

His work-pace was exhaustive. He was on the road each and every day, often up at dawn and working or driving 12-14 hours. Sure, he was making good money; and he found his straight talking, look a person in the eye way of doing business worked for him. But he was no nearer personal happiness than he had been in London.

One night in a small town in Northern Texas he found what he was looking for and needed at last.

As usual, Barry checked into a cheap motel early in the evening. After a work-out, eating a take-out meal and then showering, he dressed in a pair of tight jeans, black shoes and a crisp button down white shirt and walked a short while down a road to a country bar. His intention was just to have a few beers and relax after a hard day, although he always had a hopeful eye if there was a hot guy around.

He went into the bar, which had slow, melodic country music in the background. Looking around, there were only a few young guys shooting pool, two older cowboys at the bar and some straight couples sitting at tables. There was no indication that this could be a good place to find some sexual adventure, so he was content to settle up on a bar stool and enjoy some cold beer.

He sunk a couple, and relaxed a bit as the alcohol kicked in nicely. The bar filled up slowly and the noise of bar banter flying around him took him a small part out of his loneliness. He found himself chilling out to the music too. Although it was not to his usual taste, being a blend of new and traditional country, he began to get in with it, especially when several classic Johnny Cash numbers played sequentially.

Slowly, he started to believe that the two older cowboys sat near him were looking at him. Maybe he was imagining it, but as their glances became regular, he wondered if they were just looking at a strange face in a small town, or were they checking him out in 'that' way?

Barry needed to piss, and went to the men's-room, thinking to himself that if they were interested then one or both might follow him in. He found the idea of these older guys hitting on him very, very exciting. As he went to pee, he found his cock to be semi-hard, although functional for his immediate requirements. No-one came in.

Finishing up, he flicked his big cock dry and slipped it back into his tight white briefs. He felt just soooo horny; he really needed it bad this night.

As he walked back to the bar, he saw the cowboys looking at him once more. He flashed them a cool half smile and took his seat. The guys moved across and introduced themselves as Gary and Milton.

Gary was probably in his late thirties. He had medium length dark hair beneath a black Stetson hat, and had a kind open face with cute blue eyes. He was wearing worn faded jeans, a country style shirt and cowboy boots. Standing about 5, 9" or 5, 10" he looked in shape, slim around the hips but with a strong jaw and a wide pair of shoulders. He was more talkative than his buddy, and soon ordered a round of beers.

Milton was much older, Barry couldn't really tell accurately, but he was at least fifty. He was a tall man, probably 6, 3" and about 200 pounds or so in weight. His hat was a faded light blue, and he had on dark short sleeve shirt which showing his strong arms, and new looking tight jeans, again with cowboy boots. Milton was extremely tanned and had high cheekbones and dark brown eyes. His hair was silver, as was his thin moustache. Barry had only ever had young lovers, although he did have recurrent fantasies about older men. There was something about Milton, his mature good looks and his quiet, mannerly way of speaking that turned Barry on, in a big way.

This was the type of bar, in the kind of small town where Barry figured it would not be a good idea to show yourself out as a 'fag.' So, he didn't really act up at all with the guys, just chatted about where he came from, what they did for work etc. Even so, Barry made sure they got his smile from time to time, and he checked out a very promising bulge in Milton's jeans in a way so that the handsome older guy would get his message.

Turned out they were genuine cowboys; they had worked with prime stock their entire adult lives. Milton had been a professional rodeo rider too for a while when he was younger. These guys with their very manly stances, ways of speaking, and their handsome tanned faces and strong work toughened hands, were getting him more and more hot.

Barry got some more beers in and said he needed to piss again. Gary said he did too, and followed him to the men's room.

As he stood at the urinal, Barry glanced to his side at Gary. He could see that he had a nice cock there in his hands, which was clearly uncut. Gary worked the foreskin back and forth a couple of times, turned his head towards Barry, looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Do you like what you see?"

Barry was so turned he nearly started peeing up the wall. Regaining some composure, he replied, "Yes Gary, I do, very much."

Gary said, "Milton and me have been eyeing you up ever since you came in the bar, and if you want some fun, we're very interested."

Barry simply nodded a reply, and put his hardening cock back into his briefs with some difficulty. They returned to the bar, and Gary whispered something to Milton which made the old guy smile, and then the three of them sunk their beers and headed out.

Rather nervously, Barry told them his motel room was two minutes walk away. When inside, Milton took charge, and in his kind but authoritative way, asked Barry "Would you be good enough to help us out of our clothes young fella?"

Barry just smiled and did as he was asked, starting on Gary. He pulled off the younger cowboy's boots, took his jeans off and unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Barry ran his hands over Gary's smooth muscular chest and kissed him deeply; tongue dancing with tongue.

He then reached around and felt Gary's high firm ass-cheeks, dropped to his knees and pulled his briefs right down to his ankles. Gary's cock was firming up and growing before his eyes, above balls that were full and heavy looking. Barry fondled the balls in one hand, and with the other slowly pumped up the cock. Gary's cock-head came out of his tight foreskin, and glistened with clear pre-cum. His erection was a nice smooth 6," similar to Barry's first lover, Jez.

When Barry then turned his attention to Milton, Gary moaned a low complaint. As he found Milton even more attractive than Gary, Barry's fun was only heightened. He soon had Milton down to a pair of clean white briefs. 'Man,' Barry thought, 'what a fucking stud.'

The older cowboy had full grey chest hair and big pink nipples. Barry ran his hands all over Milton's chest, tweaked his nipples then sucked them hard, one at a time. Breaking his feast, Barry pulled the briefs off and blinked hard.

Milton was one hung cowboy. His cock must have been close to 9" long and was thick, and his balls were big too, and to Barry's mind, full of good man cum. The erect cock had amounts of pre-cum seeping from the big, purplish cock-head. Barry was almost dizzy headed with lust, and aware of his own cock throbbing almost painfully against the restraints of his briefs and jeans.

He put that plum in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the mushroom-like head, and then took several inches further back into his throat and sucked hard. Milton was groaning lightly in pleasure and fucked Barry's mouth with about half the length of his tool.

Barry just loved the tang of the older man's pre-cum, and was disappointed when Milton eased his cock out. Both cowboys then moved Barry back onto the bed on his back, and stripped him quickly with their big, capable hands. In no time he was only dressed in his briefs, as they eyed him lustily and briefly shared a kiss.

Barry's cock was upright and straining hard to be freed. Milton obliged; he gently eased the waistband up and over the hard 7" and pulled the briefs completely off him, leaving Barry totally naked. Gary eased himself up and kind of lightly sat astride Barry's upper chest, then slipped his cock into the young fella's mouth.

Meanwhile, Milton had knelt to take Barry's cock in his mouth. The older cowboy sure knew how to suck cock. He lathered up the whole of Barry's length, balls too, and then throated nearly all of it. To Barry, it seemed as if his tool was being given a warm suction bath. It felt just sooo good to him.

Frustratingly for Barry, Milton stopped as he was getting near to cumming, and the older guy also motioned Gary's cock out of Barry's mouth.

"Well young fella, do you want to get fucked?" Milton asked in that polite way he had of talking.

Barry, a real masculine young guy, a butt fucker not receiver by habit, just nodded passively. This was what he had always wanted and needed; to be fucked and fucked hard by mature handsome studs.

The two cowboys stood for a second by the bed, their erect cocks high and proud. Barry felt his cock pulse. He told Milton there was some lube in his travel bag, and the mature stud retrieved it, and then pulled Barry's legs up until they were touching his chest. Milton dropped and tongued out Barry's ass as Gary rubbed some lube on his own rock hard cock.

Milton licked all around then inside Barry's asshole, then replaced his tongue with two skilled, strong lubed fingers. He worked the young guy's sphincter, loosening up the muscle ring expertly.

Gary took Milton's place and looked up close at Barry's cute puckered asshole. "What a beauty you got their Barry, I'm gonna fuck you good buddy," he drawled in that sweet Southern accent.

As Gary held his cock at the entrance, Milton moved to the bed side and fed Barry that beautiful column of flesh. 'Man,' Barry thought, 'I just love this stud's big cock.'

Milton started talking to Barry, saying cool things, like how "you are a hot young fella who needs fucking good.... We're gonna give you want you need.... Wait until it's my turn.... Fuck him good Gary boy," and talk like that, turning Barry on as Gary fed his meat slowly and steadily into his tight ass.

Gary had a similar sized cock to Jez, the only other guy who had had the privilege of screwing his cute ass. Having not been butt-fucked for months though, it was slightly painful for Barry at first, but as his prostate got a work out, and he relaxed, falling into a rhythm to meet Gary's slow thrusts and taking Milton's stud meat in his mouth, he enjoyed it. No, more than that, he loved it. With stud cowboy cock in his asshole and mouth, he was in his own personal gay heaven.

Gary picked up the pace and as he slammed the young guy hard, the bed creaked and the headboard hit against the wall in time to the thrusts. Totally lost in their own pleasure, none of the three guys cared a jot if the noise disturbed anyone.

Balls deep on every stroke, Gary really fucked Barry hard. He loved it, all the time having Milton's beautiful tasty plum sliding around his mouth.

Eventually, Gary stabbed with shorter strokes and his breath became ragged. He pulled free of Barry's anus. There was an audible sucking noise as he got his cock completely out. Gary then jerked his cock once or twice and sent big thick threads of man cum onto Barry's hard muscled stomach and chest.

Gary struggled with his breathing as he moved across the room, sat back naked in a chair, and took a slug at some whisky Barry had placed on a table earlier.

Milton pulled his meat free of Barry's mouth and congratulated his buddy Gary on a "great fuck."

Milton then kissed Barry's mouth with a kind of tenderness, and then worked more of the lube onto his own cock. Barry's asshole was partially dilated; and when Milton raised the young man's legs again he saw it sort of winking at him. That hung old stud smiled a huge grin, patted his thick 9," and lined it up at the entrance.

Milton leant down and kissed Barry again, moved his big, strong, work hardened hands under the young fella's shoulders, gripped them and then in one very slow but smooth motion pushed his whole cock balls deep into that clinging warm asshole.

Barry bit on his own lips. His whole body was trembling. Pleasure and pain met as his ass was stretched to the maximum limit. He stifled a low scream leaving his mouth. Fuck this was it. This was what he had wanted for years.

Milton held still a while, being the gentleman that he was he was giving the young handsome guy time to accommodate his massive cock. When he felt Barry relax, and saw the stud's cock rise and twitch, he began to fuck away.

Barry got increasingly comfortable, and raised his own hips and ass to meet the cowboy's rhythm. Barry's prostate was being pleasured as it had never been before. Milton used that big old cock to give him the time of his life.

Milton fucked him longggg time, working that ass. Gary returned and kissed Barry, before pinching then sucking the young man's nipples before he stepped away slightly and stood watching the hot action as he played with his own balls and rapidly renewing erection

No-one had touched Barry's cock, not even Barry himself. However, as Milton picked up the pace and slammed away harder and faster, each time with his huge balls slapping against the young stud, Barry felt that familiar tightening in his own balls and a pressure build deep inside of him.

"Oh fuck, Milton I'm gonna cum," he almost screamed.

The cool, cute, mature cowboy nodded and gave his new buddy a killer big smile as sweat dripped down his own nut-brown tanned forehead.

Without anything at all touching his big upright dick, Barry came massively, shooting wave after wave of thick creamy cum high in the air. Some flew right back onto the wall behind him, some in on his face, some on his chest and stomach. The look on Barry's face was one of pure unadulterated pleasure; he'd found his gay heaven.

Milton must have been slamming the young stud for at least 30 minutes. He needed his own relief.

With some authority in his voiced, he asked Gary to, "Get behind me and use your tongue."

Gary did as requested and stuck his tongue up Milton's ass and cupped the older cowboy's huge balls in his hand, kneading them gently.

Milton was ramming his huge cock in Barry's ass like a pile driver. The headboard was banging the wall and the bed was shaking so hard it seemed like it may fall apart.

With a deep throated loud roar, Milton got there; he shot hard powerful wads of cum, splattering deep inside Barry's bowels. Gary joined in the fun, walked over, jerked his cock a few times and sprayed his own wad into Milton's mouth, which the mature stud swallowed.

After Milton had pumped all his man seed in the younger fella, he kept his softening cock in the stud's ass; he leaned forward and kissed Barry on his lips, then slipped his tongue inside the mouth, sharing Gary's cum. Barry sucked the mature cowboy's tongue. He felt Milton's cum seeping out of his asshole, and his own cum becoming pressed and smeared against the cowboy's hairy chest. That day, and in the week that followed it, spent with two older hot cowboy studs, he experienced his second awakening. They were, as he would later say, "The best days in my whole life!"

The end