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The first thing I should tell you is that I'm straight--a card carrying, woman- loving, All-American heterosexual. I've been chasing skirt since I was 13. Maybe younger. I actually started catching skirts at about 15, or 14 if you ask my running buddies.
I have it all for the ladies--the fast car, the ocean view condo, vacation homes in Maui and Telluride, platinum credit cards with lots of credit left on them, a fantastic career, my own business, a recognizable name, and a mother who lives in another country. And I'm also quite easy on the eyes--6' 2", 200 pounds, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and abs of steel. What's not to love?
But that's not what this little story is about. This is about the most forbidden of forbidden fruit to ever stroll through my life--Lou Graham. Yeah, that's right, THAT Lou Graham.
Okay, I own a small record company. Small in size when compared to Sony and the other big boys, but one of the most profitable companies in the business. I personally can't carry a tune, but I have an ear for talent.
The latest talent I've snatched from the jaws of obscurity is this kickass young babe named Sylvia. She's going to be the next great jailbait singing hottie. The teenage boys and their daddies are going to be creaming their shorts over this one. But, she's got to be handled by just the right kind of producer.
In the record business, no matter how talented you are, if the right producer isn't motherhening your project, you're screwed. So that's why I wanted Lou Graham. As in THE Lou Graham. The thirty-one year old West Coast Phenomenon.
Graham has taken some of the most raw talent in the business and made critical and commercial successes out of them. He's taken people who have been plugging along in the business for years with nothing to show for it but talent and turned them into stars.
He's taken old washed up talent whose only hope for a TV appearance is VH1's "Where are They Now?" and made them stars again. I had to have him. Don't get ahead of the story. I had to have him for my project with Sylvia.
But Graham is such a wunderkind he didn't need the money anymore. He needed the oomph of a *sweet* project. Everyone in the business was still talking about the *insane* money he'd turned down at Virgin Records to take over their Artist Development section. It was corporate, and it didn't have oomph.
So why did my project have oomph? It didn't, but I hadn't gotten this far in the industry without being able to sing and dance with the best of them. I got an appointment with the man himself, didn't I?
So I'm sitting in his office inside his cliff hanging San Francisco estate. The wall has got so many Grammys, American Music Awards, VH-1 Music Awards, MTV Music Awards, Soul Train Music Awards, NAACP plaques, and the like, it's a wonder the shelves haven't collapsed under the strain. Not that the awards themselves impress me. Neither do the pictures of Graham and the Who's Who of the music, film, and television industry.
What does impress me is his Rolodex. I can see the name and office number of a very important woman at one of the leading entertainment magazines. Getting your artist's name and face in the magazine meant they had *arrived*. But it wasn't just her office number that impressed me, it was the home number of her mistress below it which made me want to roll over on my back and ask the other man to scratch my belly because he was obviously the Alpha Dog in the room.
Lou himself is also very *impressive*. He is one massive man--6' 5" tall, 250 pounds, short black afro, brown eyes, chocolate skin, and muscular but not as defined as myself. All of that is draped in the latest in high fashion Hip Hop gear.
But don't think the man isn't all business when there is business to be done. As soon as the music of the demo tape starts, Lou closed his eyes and listened in total silence.
I knew the tape was only four minutes long, but it seemed to take three days for it to finish. While it was running, I lined up all his arguments and my counter-arguments for why Lou needed to take Sylvia's project on.
"How old is she?" Lou asked once the tape had finished.
"Fifteen," I responded quickly.
"Family?" he inquired as he leaned forward.
"Tight group. She's the baby of three and the only daughter. The brothers don't sing, but are so ridiculously handsome I should steer them toward modeling and acting." I tried smiling.
"Parents?" Lou asked as he leaned back into his chair.
"Childhood sweethearts who support their daughter's dream." I paused over the strange turn of the conversation. "Why all the questions about her family?"
"She's going to need a strong family, because she's going to be a major star," he said seriously. "You say she wrote that song herself?"
"That one, and about ten more she should record. She writes songs like other people write grocery lists." I was about to go on, but Lou held up his hand.
"We'll schedule her some studio time once school is out. I want her *total* attention--that means no school, no boys, and no distractions. I work hard, and I expect my artist to be there slugging it out with me."
"Right," I agreed. My mind was whirling as my and Lou's people poured in the room and hammered out the details of the where, the who, and the when. I was going to be working with Lou Graham! It was fantastic.
I had what I wanted, and I could have left. But I couldn't tear my eyes from the other man once the business side had been dealt with. Lou must have noticed, because he dismissed the flunkies and *told* me I was staying for dinner.
A meal appeared, and the staff disappeared. You see, my mind wasn't exactly on the here and now. It was more on the lips and the hands. Lou has full lips and huge fucking hands, which had me wondering about his feet, which, of course, led me to his dick.
Now, I'm not the kind of guy who believes those old sailor stories about hand to cock ratios and all, but *damn* if they were even close to true, Lou must have fainted from blood loss during erections.
"Do you want to sniff it?" Lou asked.
"What?" I asked as I nearly knocked over my dinner plate.
Graham laughed. "The cork, would you like to sniff the wine cork?"
My cheeks burned in shame. "No thanks," I replied in a near squeak. 'Jesus, Jake get your mind out of the man's pants and back on dinner or the weather or the pitiful Dodgers. Something other than his body.'
"Am I just going to have to bend you over this table and take you?" Lou asked.
I couldn't have heard that. He didn't just say that. Not Lou Graham. My mouth hung open like I'd had a stroke. Maybe I had. Whatever was wrong with me, I couldn't answer, and I might not have been breathing.
Then Lou was no longer on the other side of the table. He was looming over me, lifting me to my feet, and kissing my mouth. I've never kissed anyone taller than myself before. I've never kissed anyone who needed a shave. I've never kissed anyone who had a cock. A big one which was making a dent in my groin area.
Lou may have had big hands, but the fingers were very nimble. My tie came off and my buttons were undone more quickly than I could have managed even if my brain had been working.
My pants pooled around my ankles, then my briefs were pulled down my legs which were no longer listening to my brain. Actually, to be honest, my brain wasn't exactly sending out any coherent orders. Flee, fall down, and faint commands were given simultaneously.
Lou pulled my legs out of my pants, tossed my underwear, and managed to get my shoes and socks off without any help from me. Then the man picked me up and put me on the dining room table. Sure, I nearly ended up with a head full of Caesar salad, but the table hadn't been set with the idea of putting a six foot plus man on it mid-meal.
Lou was cooing something to me before putting a kiss on each of my nipples. Now, during my many years of an active sex life, my nipples have been sadly neglected. You leave out a woman's nipples and you're a fuck-up in bed, but a man's nipples were on their own.
Graham decided to end my nipple drought right on his table. He licked them, sucked them, nipped them, laved them, and pulled them with his lip-covered teeth. I nearly came from having my nipples played with. How fucked up is that? My nipples were a fucking *major* erogenous zone and here I was, thirty-six years old, and I hadn't known.
Okay, since I was already a mindless lump, Lou went down my stomach with his tongue like I was covered in catnip and he was a Persian. Then he started tongue-diving my navel. Have you every cum so hard and so fast you farted? I just did. My rod sent out a freaking half-cup of cum and decorated my chocolate man with vanilla icing.
Before I could roll off the table and crawl away in shame, Lou grabbed me, held me, and kissed me. I cried. I fucking cried, people. I was sobbing like a little girl who just had her doll grabbed and chewed by the neighborhood demonic Doberman.
Graham picked me up and *carried* me away from the dinner that would never be eaten and into his bedroom. The bed was a four-poster with tall, carved mahogany beams which almost reached the twelve foot, hand-painted ceiling. I lay there and tried to get myself together while I looked at the overhead mural of bare- breasted African maidens frolicking at the base of a waterfall.
Lou came back into the room with a bowl of warm, scented, and slightly soapy water and a heated towel. He'd already cleaned my *gift* off his face, hair, and neck. I haven't had my tears washed off my face since I racked up myself when I crashed my bicycle. I was eight at the time. People, that was a long time ago.
"Better?" he asked.
I nodded since speaking was impossible with both feet shoved to the knee in my mouth. God, could I *ever* live down the last fifteen minutes with this man?
"Good," Lou responded before setting the bowl aside. He lowered himself on top of me and kissed me until I was savagely responding. How could I *not* respond to the man? He was sex incarnate and meant to be worshiped. Even by straight men.
He kissed a heat-seeking trail down my body--chin, throat, chest, navel, and cock head. I'm not that blessed in the cock department, just 5 average-sized, uncut inches. But from the way Lou was moaning, groaning, and licking on me, you would have thought he found a wonder- tower down there.
"Lou," I moaned as he took in my entire cock. His broad nose was ghosting through the thick forest of my blond, silky pubic hair, and I wondered if I should trim or shave it off for him.
I wanted the other man to have full access to my balls and cock. I wanted to *feel* his full lips all over my cock, even at the base. Damn, his mouth was sweet.
My cock rose quickly from the dead and thanked Lou for tending to it. I had been very neglectful of my cock for weeks now. I could just barely remember the last time I'd beat off.
"You've got a beautiful body, Jake," Lou said softly as he moved around on the bed. His nine inch, uncut monster was tapping me on my lips, obviously expecting some attention. Okay.
I may never have done this, but I was sure I had the rudimentary details down-- don't bite, don't chew, suck, and lick with gusto. It takes some women several sessions to get those basic parameters straight in their minds.
Lou tasted like sirloin--a full, flavorful experience. I worked the hood back and forth until the head had fully bloomed. Damn, it was about the size of one of my nuts. Jesus! Women must have gone screaming into the night, with the men easily outpacing them, when faced with this much dick.
I could only manage the head and about three or four inches of Lou's cock and was damn proud to be able to do that much. For a few moments I was Jacob Astor, King of the Bed while I sucked and laved Lou's meat, and Lou moaned helplessly from my touch. Then Lou topped me by licking my asshole.
Now, I want you to know NO ONE has ever been in my ass except my doctor, the sadistic bastard. Even my mother wouldn't take my temperature rectally because it was DIRTY. But Lou Graham was licking it like it was covered in honey.
My toes flexed and curled. My legs shook. My fucking eyelids fluttered as I shouted his name and sent my cum over his fist. Damn, the man was dangerous.
I seriously thought I'd had a heart attack as I lay there with my limbs having no more tensile strength than al dente spaghetti. I rolled over onto my stomach as if I had plans to go somewhere.
Lou flopped me over onto my back. "I think you enjoyed that, Jake," he said with this great smile on his face.
"I think I love you," I confessed. Okay, I know what I meant. All right, I *think* I know what I meant. Regroup. I didn't *want* to know what I meant.
"Sweet," he said before slipping me some tongue in a long, unhurried kiss.
On the great scoreboard which hovers over *all* beds, it was Lou Graham 14 and Jake Astor, the cosmic goose egg. As soon as I had the strength, I was going to part Lou's bubble butt and give him a nice ride on my joystick.
I know. Exactly where was I going to get the juice for my joystick? Lou had taken both barrels. I knew I wasn't up to getting another nut off for at least an hour. Hey, I'm not a kid anymore. But the old mouth was still working. I crawled between his legs and starting sucking on his cannon.
While I was down there working on his rod, Lou was stroking my back and sliding his finger up and down my crack. He even managed to slip a bit of his finger into my chute because he'd made the old pucker flower earlier. Those big hands of his were gripping and mauling my hard cheeks and diddling my crack while I sucked on his root with all my newly acquired skill. I thought I was giving him everything he wanted. Naive, wasn't I?
Lou rolled me onto my back again and hovered with his cock just over my lips. I latched onto him and went back to sucking on all that meat. Graham was playing with my ass using something slick and cool. His finger slid into me easily now, and I was loving it. I would have told him, but I had too much of him in my mouth to make a comprehensible statement.
"You're doing so good, Jake," Lou said as two of his thick fingers were easing in and out of my ass. "I'm going to put you on your side."
I rolled onto my side and reached for his meat again, but Lou moved behind me. At this point the writing should have been on the condom, which Lou was forcing down his cock.
"Don't be afraid, Jake. I swear to make it good for you," Lou whispered.
I looked over my shoulder. Fear and panic were rising up, but my protests were cut off by Lou's mouth on mine. I wanted this. Is that insane or what?
Lou had his hand under my right knee and was holding it up for more access to my virgin hole. I felt the head pressing against me and just *knew* it couldn't possibly fit inside.
Lou rubbed that big head around my bud--a light press, more rubbing, another light press, rub, push, rub, and a strong push until tears came to my eyes. "Push out," he commanded. When I did, he popped inside.
I was panting. No one told me to, I just started doing it. I guess I was remembering my sister telling me about Lamaze breathing when she was waiting to push out my nephew.
Okay, Lou's cock wasn't quite as big as a kid, but it felt like it. My own rising cock deflated, and I just knew I was going to ruin this.
Lou pushed again, and he was going inside my body. Actually, he was splitting me apart; tearing me down to my components; stripping me bare right on the bed.
"God, you're too big. Please? Please?" I begged. He held still. Lou didn't push forward anymore, but he didn't pull out either. I went back to my panting.
Lou must have crushed quite a few cherries in his life, because he knew just what to do. He went back to my nipples. They didn't care about the cobra spreading its hood in my ass. They also didn't care that I was soon begging the owner of that big cock to give it to me. "Oh shit, Lou. Yeah!"
Okay, it wasn't poetry, but let's see how much Shakespeare you can shout with nine thick inches of monster dong splitting you open. Trust me on this one, it was poetry to him because it was all the encouragement Lou needed to finish tearing me down to my atoms.
Torn down, broken, savaged, and unsure of who and what I was, nevertheless I was still riding that cock and giving him pleasure.
"Jake, lover, so fucking *good*," Lou swore as he made love to me. That's right, I wasn't being fucked. Whores were fucked. I was being made love too by the other man.
The thrusts were no longer taking me apart, they were putting me back together. I was being rebuilt by Lou Graham and becoming one of his masterpieces. Even if he never wanted to sleep with me again, I *knew* I had given him pleasure.
"Oh, God. Oh, GAWD!!!!" Lou popped his big sausage out of my ass and sent streams of hot jism across my tender ass.
You push off a whore. You roll away from them. You toss money on their soiled bodies and tell them to get dressed.
Lou turned me around and spent a *long* time kissing my face. Yeah, I was crying again. He licked my tears away and held my face tenderly while he did it.
Okay, so I had five years on the guy, but here he was the experienced one. Maybe tears were not unexpected when you crushed a man's cherry. Maybe he got turned on by my vulnerability. I didn't know. Whatever the reason, Lou's eyes were full of joy, and they were looking only at me.
No matter how wide your ass has been spread or how sore it was, someone looking at you like that made you all melty inside.
"Do you want me to go back to the hotel?" I asked.
Lou intertwined our fingers and held my hand tightly. "Only if you want me to chase you to the lobby, strip you naked, spank your pink cheeks red, and carry your ass back here," he warned.
"Don't you think the hotel staff would save me?" I asked impishly.
"This is San Francisco, Jake. In LA they might be alarmed, but here we call that foreplay," he said firmly.
I cuddled against him--sticky, sweat- and cum-soaked, and fucking happy. I laughed softly against his chest while he stroked my curls. "Thank you for this, Lou," I whispered.
"That was just the first time, Jake. It gets better," he said softly as his fingers carded through my thick hair.
"Promise?" I asked.
"I promise," he replied.
We slept.
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