Crain was a thirty-eight-year-old man who loved doing three things; first was racing fast cars, not as a career but just for fun. Second he loved surfing. He had surfed all of the west coast of the US and Mexico, plus Hawaii. Third, or perhaps first, was sucking cock. Amend that. He loved cock, period. He would be hard pressed to decide which he liked more, cock down his throat or up his ass.

When Crain was fourteen he felt something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he knew something was out of kilter. By the time he was fifteen he had started lashing out, sassing his parents, rebelling against authority, pilfering cigarettes. He had always been in the top of his class, but he began to ignore his studies and his grades suffered.

When he had reached sixteen he realized he was different from other boys. Not some of them – all of them. He had figured out his sexual interest wasn’t the same. The other guys talked about girls all the time, or more specifically, pussy. They became animated. He remained unmoved. If one of them was to describe a sex act (real or invented) Crain didn’t imagine the girl’s pussy. Instead he visualized the braggart’s dick. Whether he had only unbuttoned his jeans and pulled it out, or had gotten butt-naked, or something in between, Crain's mind conjured up a vision of the guy, without the girl.

He knew this wasn’t right. He was sure he was the only person in existence who did this. He knew something was wrong with him, and he rebelled more.

When he was seventeen he met Roger. Roger was a petty thug. He was twenty-three, tall and lanky, but muscular. His arms were covered with tattoos from his shoulders to his wrist. There were scrolls twisting up his arms like vines, but they weren’t vines. Entangled in the scrolls were words written in ornate letters. They weren’t words that you would have imagined. They were words like ‘honor’, ‘trust’ and ‘fidelity’. There were also cartoon characters. There was Wilma giving Fred Flintstone a blowjob. There was Wiley Coyote fucking Daffy Duck in the ass. And there was a larger one of Captain America charging toward you, completely naked with an oversized cock flying to one side. That one intrigued Crain.

Roger took Crain under his wing to teach him how to screw the system and everyone in it. He introduced Crain to marijuana. Crain had dropped acid, but hadn’t liked the experience. He loved weed. He loved the way it freed him from the thoughts that plagued him. He and Roger became buddies. Roger patted him on the back, punched his shoulder, grabbed him in a head lock, grabbed his ass.

The ass grabbing became frequent. He’d grasp it and hold on.

Crain would try to pull away, laughing, but Roger wouldn’t let him get away, saying, “Yeah, you like that.”

Once, Crain had on a pair of baggy cargo shorts. Roger ran his hand down Crain’s back, under the waistband and drove his middle finger down his ass crack, pressing the tip against Crain’s moist asshole. Crain tried to pull away, put the more he twisted the harder Roger pushed his finger. Crain was aware his dick was springing to life.

When he finally broke free, Roger just wrapped his arms around him from behind and said in his ear, “Yeah, that felt good, didn’t it,” then lightly bit his ear and let him go, laughing.

Crain had to laugh too.

Weeks later Roger scored some powerful weed and they were sitting on the sofa in his broken-down apartment, getting stoned. Crain took a drag on the joint and passed it to Roger. As Roger took it from Crain he held Crain’s hand and put it on his crotch. Crain tried to pull it away, but Roger held it fast. As Crain moved his hand trying to release it he felt Roger’s dick growing hard.

Roger took a deep drag and turned his head to shotgun the smoke into Crain’s mouth. Crain forgot about his hand and inhaled the smoke. Roger moved so his lips were pressing against Crain’s – then stuck out his tongue so the tip went between Crain’s lips. Crain opened his mouth and the smoke curled out as Roger's tongue went in and swirled around.

Roger withdrew his tongue, but with his lips still touching Crain’s said, “Suck my cock.”

He pressed Crain’s hand hard against his erect dick and moved it back and forth. He whispered, “Suck it. You know you want to.”

He dropped the roach into an ashtray on the arm of the sofa and started unbuttoning his pants. Crain was immobilized – hypnotized. He watched as Roger pulled out a long, straight cock – more beautiful than any of those of his buddies he had so often visualized.

Roger placed his hand lightly on the back of Crain’s neck and pulled down gently, whispering, “Go on. Suck it.”

Crain let himself be pulled forward and down. He knew this was where the past three years had been leading to. He opened his mouth and felt the strange hard and yet soft and smooth rod enter his mouth, filling it. For several seconds he remained motionless, savoring the feeling. Roger removed his hand and Crain raised his head a few inches, feeling the cockhead sliding over his tongue. He went up and down, marveling at how right this felt.

Roger reached around Crain and squeezed Crain’s erect dick – unbuttoning his jeans and fishing it out. As Crain sucked his cock he slowly ran his hand up and down Crain’s, pausing to smear the precum over the head with his thumb. He stopped to open the waistband of his own pants and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees, and then returned to leisurely jacking Crain’s dick.

Ten minutes passed. Roger put his hand under Crain’s throat and pulled him up. He took his chin and turned his head in his direction and kissed him, their mouths opening and their tongues wrapping around each other. He then bent forward and engulfed Crain’s dick, pulling his pants and briefs down while he sucked his dick.

For the next forty minutes they alternated sucking each other’s cocks. Then Roger hoarsely whispered, “Oh, shit.” and grasped Crain’s head, holding him down on his dick. Globs of cum spurted out into the back of Crain’s mouth, gagging him. He managed to pull up enough to let the cum flow down his throat. When the cum subsided he remained there for a minute, enjoying the sensation and taste of his first mouthful of cum.

Roger let him up, smiled weakly and said, “My turn.”

He slid down off the sofa so he was sitting on the floor and pulled Crain around straddling him. He simply said, “Fuck my mouth.”

Crain moved his dick over Roger’s face several times before he succeeded in getting it in his mouth, but then he watched as his dick went in and out of Roger’s mouth. After only a couple of minutes he picked up speed and lost control, fucking Roger’s mouth fast and hard. It only took another couple of minutes before he whimpered and felt his cum surge up the length of his dick and for the first time enter another body. When the last of his cum oozed out he fell forward, still on top of Roger’s face, too weak to move. Roger had to push him up and off to get out from under.

He moved back up on the sofa and reached for the other joint he had rolled earlier. They smoked without saying anything, their pants still around their knees and the saliva drying on their soft dicks.

Finally Crain said, “I’d better go,” and struggled pulling his shorts and pants up. He staggered to his feet.

Roger looked up and said, “You wanna go shoot pool tomorrow?”

Crain shrugged, “Sure, I guess.”

It became a weekly or bi-weekly thing: their getting high and sucking each other off. They never talked about it – they just did it. Crain’s attitude changed. He was no longer the only person in the world. He had a mate. He no longer felt the need to rebel. He became interested in his studies again and his grades vastly improved. He only had to keep his association with a thug like Roger a secret.

But things always change. Crain had never wondered how Roger managed to live. He didn’t appear to work, but that wasn’t an aspect Crain was interested in. Six months after their suck-off sessions had begun the police raided a chop-shop and arrested a half dozen guys. Roger was one of them. The news reports named him as the one who stole the cars. He was out of Crain’s life, but Crain’s life took a big turn.

He graduated from high school and entered the top university in the state. He quickly found out that there were dozens, maybe hundreds of guys just like him. He discovered there was more to sex than just sucking. He took up surfing. He grew into an all-around successful young man. He discovered the thrill of going fast. With time he could afford to indulge in racing. Life was good.

In the years of racing he had connected with a couple of guys, and there was a period he was scoring with one surfer after the other, but that was also a phase. Mostly it was a serendipity type thing. He didn’t like having to seduce a guy. He liked a guy who had some experience, but wasn’t into gay life. That is, a guy who'd had his cock sucked and liked it enough to let someone do it again.

Two years ago he had picked up a guy in a bar. Not a gay bar… a sports bar. The guy had come in and taken the stool next to his. The guy introduced himself as Brick. Crain didn’t understand why he was called Brick since he had brown instead of red hair, but he didn’t question it. He was twenty-eight and was twice divorced, with no kids. He was easy to talk to and had a nice sense of humor.

The conversation had started innocently… just two guys in a bar having a drink while watching a game on TV. Over the next three hours it covered a lot of territory, and had taken a path that both found interesting, each pushing it a little further and turning it a little more in a certain direction, neither one being the main catalyst. When the bar closed Brick followed Crain home. Crain poured them each a drink, but before they had drunk a fourth of their drinks they had gone in the bedroom, stripped naked, lay on the bed, and Crain had given Brick the best blowjob he had ever had.

Over the following two weeks Crain thought about how much he had enjoyed talking to and sucking off Brick. Then one evening the doorbell rang and it was Brick. He explained he had just found himself in the neighborhood and remembered which house it was. He remarked he had been back to the bar several times, but hadn’t run into Crain there. Of course both knew he hadn’t been in the neighborhood by accident. He then asked Crain if he wanted to do it again. Brick was amazed by the things Crain could do with his mouth, his tongue, his lips. Crain loved the shape and size of Brick’s cock, and he particularly liked who this great cock was attached to.

After Brick came and they were lying side by side naked, Brick asked if Crain liked getting fucked, and if he could fuck him the next time. Crain was pleased to know Brick was thinking about a next time, and said he’d love for Brick to fuck him the next time.

Three weeks passed, and no Brick. Crain knew that a man who had been married twice by the time he was twenty-six liked women a lot. He was probably fucking a lot of them, or maybe just one special one. Hell, he might even be married again. He didn’t know him that well. He might have lied to him. But did any of that matter? If Brick wanted to fuck him, then he was welcome to do it whenever he could.

When Brick finally showed up, Crain had to force himself not to ask him questions. Brick was in his usual jovial mood. He made Crain feel relaxed and thankful he was there. Whatever Brick’s situation was, whoever had taught him to fuck, he was an amazing sex partner. If Crain had ever been fucked so well, he couldn’t remember when. This time it didn’t have anything to do with the size or shape of his cock; it was all in the way he used it.

That first time Crain had lain on his stomach with his legs spread wide and Brick had pushed his iron-like rod into his asshole and lain on Crain’s back, licking his ear and neck while he fucked him, starting slowly and easily and gently picking up speed until he was pounding the shit out of him. Crain had come, spreading his seed on the bed sheet, clenching his ass muscles around Brick’s cock so that he shouted, “Oh, God,” as his cum spurt forth, filling Crain’s fuck chute.

Weeks again passed before he reappeared. That time he asked Crain to lie on his back holding his legs folded up to his chest so Brick could sink his cock as far into him as was possible. But when the moment arrived that he was fucking Crain full force he took Crain’s legs and wrapped them around his waist so he could lean forward and push his tongue into Crain’s hungry mouth. It was the first time they had kissed, and the first time anyone had kissed Crain while fucking him in several years. Again Crain came without touching himself, coating their stomachs with his cum.

Crain came to accept the fact weeks would go by with no word, having no idea when or even if Brick would show again. And then there he’d be with no explanation of his absence. Crain had no claim to him, and so had no right to question him. At the same time, he didn’t want to put himself in the position of having to answer to anybody. He enjoyed the good sex when Brick did show up. Also the affection Brick showed. He would kiss Crain not only when they fucked but upon arriving and before he left.

There were times Crain simply told Brick he didn’t want to fuck, but to spend the next hour sucking his cock. Brick was completely in agreement and Crain would suck and lick every part of Brick’s body from his knees to his neck, kiss his anxious mouth, their tongues wrapping around each other, and then return to licking and sucking. He would lie on his back and have Brick crouch over him, rubbing his cock in Crain’s face, move up so his asshole was on Crain’s mouth while Crain darted his tongue in and around it, and then move back and fuck Crain’s mouth until he came, flooding it with his hot cum. Brick had never in his life had sex like this.

And so it had been for the last two years. Crain had become convinced Brick was married again, or if not legally, at least living with a woman. Not that he minded. He preferred the idea he had a steady sex life instead of playing around. One of the reasons he believed there was someone else was the irregularity of his visits. There was no certainty as to which day he’d appear, probably more during the week than weekends. There were several times when he turned up in the afternoon. Crain worked from home, so it was nice to take an unexpected sex break.

Another reason he thought Brick might be married was that Brick enjoyed sex so much it made no sense he wasn’t doing it regularly during those long periods he didn’t drop by. He had never suggested spending the night, but would stay for an hour or two at the most. The biggest change in Crain’s sex life was that shortly after he and Brick had begun their “affair” he had stopped having sex with anyone else. He liked Brick that much, and looking for other cock had gotten to be too much of a hassle, so he contented himself with Brick’s cock when he got it.

It was during one of those afternoon visits that an unanticipated opportunity presented itself to Crain. Part of his property had a steep slope that was held back by a retaining wall. This wall was ancient, the mortar had given away and one day the whole wall collapsed. It had been a pile of rubble for a few weeks on the day Brick arrived. He asked about it, but Crain gave him a vague answer since it didn’t seem germane. When they had gotten in bed and started kissing and pressing their nude bodies together Brick casually asked Crain if he wanted him to rebuild the wall.

Crain said, “And what do you know about building a wall?”

Brick laughed, “That’s what I do. I’m a mason, a brick layer. That’s how I got my nickname, that and my hair.”

Crain was puzzled. “Your hair? Your hair isn’t red.”

“When I’m in the sun it glints red,” Brick said.

Crain didn’t believe it, but Brick assured him it was true.

Crain asked, “And what is your name?”

“I won’t tell you. You’d laugh and make fun,” Brick replied.

Crain assured him he wouldn’t. Brick said, “Okay, I’m going to tell you, but if you laugh or make even one wise-ass crack you won’t ever suck this cock again. And yes, that’s a threat, ‘cause I know how much you love sucking my cock.”

Crain punched him and said, “And I know how much you love my sucking your cock, but I promise I won’t laugh.” 

Brick eyed him with a squint. “It’s Lew, but not L-o-u, it’s L-e-w, short for Llywellyn. Don't laugh! Don’t you dare even smile. It’s a shitty name I’ve never forgiven my mom for. If I just say Lew people assume it’s Lou, like Louis, but it’s a bitch when I have to fill out some form. That’s why I grabbed Brick when someone first called me that.”

Crain had been struggling to keep a straight face. He suddenly jumped out of bed and grabbed Brick’s arm, pulling him up. “Come with me,” he said.

They went naked into the living room. There was a big window in the front wall that looked out on the street. At this hour of the afternoon sun came pouring in the window, flooding the room with light.

Crain said, “Go stand over there in the sunlight. I want to see the red in your hair.”

Brick objected. “Stand in that window naked? Anyone walking down the street can see me!”

Crain asked, “And what have you got to be ashamed of?”

They both knew Brick looked as good as any of the guys they put on those nude male calendars. He reluctantly walked over to the window and stood so the sun was covering his body. Sure enough, the hair on his head sparkled with red highlights wherever the sun hit it. But even more, the lighter brown hair on his body turned a copper color, as if his whole body was aglow.

He said, “See?” and started back toward where Crain stood.

Crain said, “No, wait, turn around. Let me see you completely in the sun.”

Brick stepped back into the sunlight and slowly turned, showing off his great body. Crain loved how it glistened, like a tinsel Christmas decoration.

He said, “Stop! Bend over and spread your cheeks. I want to see the sun on your asshole.”

Brick looked at him with a smirk and slowly shook his head, but did as Crain had instructed. He kept nervously glancing out the window, hoping some old lady didn’t come walking by. Craig thought the hair around Brick’s asshole looked like a ring of fire. It was amazing how the hair he had always known as brown came to life in the sun. Brick stood up and turned so he was sideways to the window and Crain. His erection had gone down so he had a half hard-on.

He took it in his hand and said, “I should make you come over here and suck my cock in your window.”

Crain laughed, “Don’t tempt me. I just might,” but he knew he had to get along with his neighbors, so he said, “Come on back in the bedroom and I’ll suck you till your eyes cross.” He was envisioning rimming that ‘ring of fire’.

Two hours later when there was no more cum in either of their balls, they were lying wrapped around each other exchanging soft kisses, when Brick said, “Well, how ‘bout it? Do you want me to do the wall?”

Crain said, “Yes, of course. When can you do it?”

Brick thought for a moment. “I’m starting a big new job tomorrow, so I have to get that underway first. I think I can start next Monday.”

Crain said, “Great. But if you’re going to be working on a big job, how’ll you do my wall?”

Brick explained, “I knock off at five every day. There’s at least two hours of good light after that. I’ll do it in my spare time, and on weekends, or at least Saturdays. It might take me a couple of weeks, but I’ll get it done.”

Crain smiled, “Great.”

He was pleased. That meant Brick would be there every day for at least a couple weeks. Brick didn’t know it yet, but as part of the deal he was going to get his cock sucked or fuck Crain’s ass every day for at least two weeks. Either way, sucking or fucking, he was going to be draining his balls of all his cum down Crain’s throat or up his ass, of that Crain was sure.