Phil grunted and drank deeply. Then he returned the bottle to the youth and fell on the blanket beside him. “Good beach, huh? Good and private.”
“Great! Hey, thanks for loaning me these civvies. I haven’t been out of uniform since I joined up last fall!”
Phil grinned. “You’re just getting started, and I’m almost out. Two weeks to go!”
“Gees!” Walt rolled on his side toward Phil. “Are you going to miss the Navy?”
“I dunno. I’ve learned a lot in the last four years.” He smiled at the athletic young sailor beside him. “You’ll learn a lot too.”
Walt took another deep swallow from the bottle and lay back, staring into the darkness overhead. “You’re a good guy, Phil. I’m going to miss you.”
Phil looked down at the half-naked youth and smiled. The night air was invigorating and he had drunk enough to feel pleasantly relaxed, and the young sailor was quite attractive. “You’re a good guy too, Walt.” With seeming carelessness, he placed one hand on the boy’s firm warm chest, letting his fingers caress the soft, dark hair and the wide, flat nipples. “You look pretty rugged, too.” His hand moved down over the taut, hard stomach. “You sure fill those Levi’s!” Phil placed his hand firmly on Walt’s crotch, feeling the solid bulge beneath his fingers. “Not much room for growth, huh?” He dug his fingers into the warm flesh beneath the cloth and felt the rising potency.
Walt laughed softly, excitement tinged with nervousness. “Take it easy, Phil. You’ll get it hard doing that!”
“I’m not worried,” Phil murmured with pleasure as he felt the youth’s cock stretch down along his thigh beneath his Levi’s. “I’ll show you how to take care of it.”
“You mean like palming it off?” Walt asked with a shy grin. “Hell, I already know about that!”
“I know something lots better.” Gently, insistently, Phil worked his fingers between the metal buttons along the trousers’ fly. He knew Walt had not worn shorts tonight—he’d talked him into that himself—and now his fingers touched the warm, bare flesh and the crisp pubic hairs. After a moment, he began to unfasten the buttons. “Just lie back and relax, buddy.”
“Hey!” Walt moved to cover his fly with his hand, then pulled it away slowly as he felt his trousers laid open and his genitals pulled free. He closed his eyes as Phil’s fingers grasped his balls, investigating their firm slipperiness gently, and then closed about his thick, rigid cock, massaging it slowly, steadily. “Criminie, Phil!” he breathed.
Phil stared down at the hearty piece of meat in his hand, rising stiff and straight like a virile young soldier snapping to attention. He felt the growing surge of excitement between his own legs, and he dropped his mouth to the tense organ waiting for him.
Walt gave a stifled cry of surprise as the strong lips found his dick. Then the moist tongue was rubbing over it hotly and his whole body reacted to the fire it brought. Phil consumed the rigid cock completely, drawing it deep into his throat and urging its climax steadily. His hands caressed the youth’s hips, his abdomen, his chest, and then Phil drew back and sat up suddenly. Breathing hard with excitement, he grasped Walt’s Levi’s and tore them down off his legs. Now the sailor lay before him, young and virile and athletic. And ready!
Walt twisted about on the blanket, frantic with excitement as Phil’s lips found his throbbing cock once more, dragging from its depths the furious explosion of thick, creamy liquid at last.
Phil heard the youth’s breathless exclamations of satisfied pleasure. He sat back on his haunches and studied the rugged, naked sailor lying before him, and he thought of that night so long ago when he had lain on this same beach for the first time. He dropped one hand to the crotch of his Levi’s and felt the pulsating hardness of his own dick. Then he ripped open his trousers and squirmed from them, kneeling across the youth on the blanket.
Walt looked up with surprise and, perhaps, fear—fear of the unknown. Poised over him was his friend Phil, naked, powerfully athletic, maturely built. From Phil’s crotch rose the huge, thick, rigid organ, its inflamed potency unquestionable. He saw Phil grasp this massive pole and press it toward him.
“Here, Walt, try it a little.”
Numbly, Walt saw the instrument come closer and closer to his face, and then he was raising his head to press his lips to the hard, throbbing head, tasting the thin, watery liquid already dripping from it, and finally accepting its full length.
“That’s the way!” Phil sighed, running his fingers over Walt’s short-clipped hair. “Suck it down.” He smiled at the surprising ease with which Walt was handling this new experience, and he thought of all the other acts this youth could be taught. “Take it easy, Walt. We’ve got two weeks!”
CHAPTER TWO
WELL, I’LL BE A HORSE’S ASS
This second example of the erotic story is unique among such efforts. In the first place, it touches upon bestiality, not terribly common in erotica. Moreover, it has a whimsical quality that is also uncommon. But most unusual of all is its mythological subject matter; with rare exceptions, erotic tales of this sort lean toward the present and an exaggerated “realism”. But here we find references to Zeus and his wife Hera, to Mars and Apollo and Ganymede and numerous other residents of Olympus. We have magic spells no less, in the grand tradition of Snow White and associates.
Also interesting is another peculiarity—numerous authorities on homosexuality have asserted that the urge for fellatio springs directly from the breast sucking of infancy. Some critics disagree, but in this tale we have an excellent illustration of such a theory, as Hercules refers frequently to the penis he is sucking as a “tit”. It is through just such revelations that erotica enables us to better understand the sexual workings of the mind.
* * * *
Hercules the Hero had just finished cleaning the Augean Stables and was bathing in the river, washing off the smelly shit of the animals, when he heard a whinnying sound behind him. Turning, he discovered a Centaur with the sleek body of a horse and the torso of a rugged young man with an extremely handsome, but very unhappy face. As at the sight of any gorgeous man, Hercules felt a tingling sweetness in the dangle of his huge penis, especially as he could not help noticing the stallion-size of the prick that swung heavily between the Centaur’s legs as the creature reared excitedly.
Herc had frequently frolicked with the Centaurs, but this was one he had never seen before, and the sadness of the lovely face intrigued him strangely. “Who in the name of Hades are you?” asked the muscle-man, “and what seems to be your trouble?”
“I am named Equesto,” the Centaur said, “and I have been watching you and I believe you are the only one who can help me!”
Never one to turn down a guy in trouble, Hercules begged Equesto to elucidate. “Well,” said Equesto, “my father was playing around with my mother...but they weren’t married, you see! He was hitched to another woman, but the old boy likes a variety of cunts, and, well...Ma likes a variety of dicks. He had a nice one, you know, but she just happened to remark as she played with it, that she’d like sometime to really be screwed by a real stud of a man. Quick as a flash the guy changes himself into a horse...a stallion, and puts the ole yard-arm to her. He really fucked the pure piss out of her pussy! (Hercules gasped, but remained silent as Equesto went on.) Naturally he knocked her up with that tool that drove in clear up
