Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality
From: nevyn@nahwaer.nacjack.gen.nz (Nevyn)
Subject: Darryl. (Fiction, by Nevyn)
Date: Thu, 19 May 94 23:11:51 GMT+1

				Darryl
				  by
				Nevyn

	Well it's a funny thing! I guess you just can't predict what
consequences your actions can have in the long run. I just didn't
realise what could happen if someone I knew read these stories.
Darryl is a good friend of myself and Heather. I have known him since
I was about seventeen. At least, I thought I knew him, but he revealed
an aspect of his personality I never even suspected existed in him. I
suppose that is something that keeps a friendship alive and
interesting, never knowing your friends so well that they cease to be
spontaneous and intriguing.

	We got together at a bar in Downtown Auckland, as we sometimes
do, and it was early Friday evening. Work was over for the week, and a
three day weekend was looming. We both work in the central city, both
our offices located just off Queen St., so a nice, wind-down drink
before the weekend was nothing unusual. We talked, and drank,
bullshitted and burbled, and we both had very pleasant buzzes on after
about two hours in the bar. Darryl got his Yuppie-phone out of his
briefcase and phoned both our wives to tell them we would not be home
for dinner, that we would snack out. Great! That freed up the rest of
the evening for good company, good conversation.

	So we drank, and we talked, skirting the edges of drunkenness,
but not really taking the plunge into full obliteration, and the
conversation drifted and swayed, no subject staying current for more
than about ten minutes. We ran the gambit from religion, to sex, to
politics, to sex, to nuclear physics, to work, to sex, to war, to
ethics, to politics, to sex... and so on. The conversation, at some
stage, touched on computer BBS's. I said, that yeah, I had tried out a
few, several, but only really frequented one. Mostly just flitted
around amusing myself on the Pornography sections available. Darryl
snorted into his Kahlua-&-Coke, "You always were a kinky bastard,
weren't you?"

	I looked up from my sculpture made out of the glass coasters.
It was supposed to look like a mound of shredded, soggy cardboard. It
did, so I was happy with the result. My mouth seemed a bit sluggish
from the Vodka, and my brain took a bit to kick over. "I'm as straight
as the next pervert," I replied.

	Darryl seemed to hesitate a little, as if he were unsure of
how to carry the conversation on, and he seemed to sober slightly. "I
ummm, I got hold of something called the Auckland Smut Digest, couple
of days back. Several issues, actually. You ever hear of it?"

	The way he asked. Damn him, the question was as loaded as
nitroglycerin. I was too fuzzed to notice, I probably could have
bluffed my way through a denial, if I was sober. But I wasn't and I
didn't. "Yeah, read it all the time!"

	"Yeah, I thought you would have." The way he seemed to take
control of the conversation indicated to me that he had been unsure of
something, but now I had cleared up some doubt, and he had me by the
balls, so to speak. "You ever hear of a guy called Nevyn?"

	Thud! I was sober. Just like that. A sudden cold sweat gripped
me. I was caught. Guilty. Red handed. He had me. Trapped with nowhere
to hide. He was looking at me, gauging my reaction. Examining me like
a bug under a microscope. I knew he knew it was me! I feigned deep
thought, "Ummm, isn't he the guy that writes about animals?"

	"Yeah, and isn't he the guy that's sitting opposite me in this
bar? You know, there can't be many people who live on fifteen acres,
and own a Great Dane and an Old English Mastiff."

	"C'mon, there must be dozens of people." I said weakly.

	"Cut the crap Nevyn." Of course, he used my real name. "You
wrote those stories, which, I might add, are getting better. I even
recognise the layout of your farm in them!"

	I was squirming, I knew what was coming next. I could feel the
air gathering itself to hold the enormity of the next question.

	"So, ummm. So how much of that is real, and how much made up?"
Darryl glanced at me over the rim of his glass, as though he had just
asked the time of day, then placed it carefully on the table.

	Why didn't I just deny everything? Why didn't I just say it
was all fiction, ha ha had you fooled didn't I? Why not just tell him
I made the whole lot up? Well, Darryl and me, we go back a long way.
We discovered Dope together. We used to get drunk together. We were
closer than brothers. We had gone through ATI together, and lived to
tell the tale. Darryl and I had toured most of the South Island
together by motorcycle. To say we were close was to say space is big.
Dammit, we even looked similar!! So I didn't deny everything for three
very good reasons: 1) He was my friend and confidant, 2) He would have
seen the lie a mile off, 3) I was drunk enough not to care!

	"How long have we been friends, Darryl?"

	"My god! That much huh?" He sat back and grinned hugely, "So
you ARE as sick and perverted as I always thought you were."

	"Oh, what-the-fuck, Yep. Worse. The whole sh-bang is true.
The only things I changed were the names." Incidentally, Darryl isn't
Darryl's real name either, nor Heather. (Don't go thinking for one
moment that Big Mac really IS named after a hamburger!!).

	Darryl leaned back and put his hands behind is head. He
studied me for a minute, then reached forward and picked up his 3/4
full glass of Kahlua/Coke. He studied it for a while in silence, idly
swilling the dark fluid around in the glass. He looked back up at me,
and I could tell there was something else on his mind. He looked as
though he were trying to make a decision, or wanted to say something
else. I saw him almost imperceptibly shrug his shoulders, then he
hefted his glass and drained it, shuddered slightly and placed it back
on the table. He leaned suddenly forward and clasped his hands in
front of him, looking me straight in the face. "Would you do for your
best friend what you do for your dog?"

	"Wha-a err wh sorry?"

	"Nevyn, have you ever wanted to have sex with another man?
Haven't you ever wanted to feel another man's dick in your hand? I
know you, and I know you fuck your dogs," he had thoughtfully lowered
his voice, so the other patrons in the bar wouldn't be disturbed.

	"Darryl, you great dumb prick, I've wanted you since, since, I
don't know how long. But I always thought you were the `straight guy',
and I valued our friendship so much, I didn't want to possibly damage
it by letting you know how I feel. Fuckit, why didn't you let on
sooner. We've been together for damn near fifteen years!" Now, I don't
know how you, the reader, feels about bisexuality. I have always lived
by the motto: `Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' and
I believe that helping a friend achieve orgasm, sexual release, is a
great gift, and a show of genuine affection. Whether that friend is
male or female shouldn't make a difference.

	Fade out...

	Fade in...

	I told Heather, later that night, what Darryl and I had been
discussing in the bar. She surprised me too by saying "You mean you
didn't realise Darryl was sexually attracted to you? Good heavens. Me
and Janene have known for years. So why don't you invite them over for
the weekend, get them to stay over, say Saturday night?"

	Sometimes I feel that everyone around me knows what's going on
but me. "What about you, and Janene. How does she feel about this kink
of her husband's?"

	Heather smiled in the dark. I couldn't see it, but I heard it
in her voice, "Janene has known for years, and perhaps she and I can
amuse ourselves."

	Fade out...

	Fade in...

	There is nothing like a little good wine, and a little piece
of homemade, dope-laced fruit loaf to loosen the inhibitions. We four
had been working on the half-completed swimming pool, block-laying,
concrete mixing, and now the evening was just falling, clear and warm.
The glow of sunset still fiery in the west, and North-west the faint
glow of the city was lighting the underside of the few clouds, an
eerie ethereal light. An early dinner had been had, and with everyone
pitching in, the dishes were made short work of. We were seated in a
half round couch, sprawled out and relaxing sore muscles, just sipping
a lovely, sweet, white desert wine, swimming in the quiet sussurations
of classical music on the CD, and filling the small corners left after
the meal with fruit loaf. The night was warm, but I had lit the fire
in the open-hearth, the flames were throwing odd, flickering shadows
in the dimmed light of the lounge. I was feeling very comfortable,
very `home.' The conversation was just meandering along, we were all
relaxed, basking in the warmth of each others company.

	Darryl sat up and leaned over to put his glass on the low
coffee table. He groaned and rubbed at his shoulder-blade. "Nevyn, you
dopey shit," he rumbled good-naturedly, "who the hell's bright idea
was it to lay concrete blocks all day?"

	Janene leaned over and began massaging his shoulders through
the fabric of his shirt "Aawww, a little sore after some Real work?
Poor hubby. Office job making you soft?"

	Darryl closed his eyes and was fair purring under her touch,
as she manipulated his sore muscles.

	"Hang on," Heather looked a little impish, "if you want to
give a serious massage there, I think we've got some Sandalwood oil
around here somewhere." she stood, and I could see by the slow and
careful way she held herself, that she was feeling the effects of the
hard work too. Presently she came back bearing an ornate bottle and a
bunch of towels. She spread the towels on the sheepskin rug in front
of the fire. The rug is really four sheepskins sewn together; our
four-skin rug. (Yes, fore-skin is exactly what I meant).

	Darryl stood, with some effort, and slowly unbuttoned his
shirt. He went to lie down, but I called out "And the rest. C'mon,
let's see that body of yours. See if it really IS as big as you keep
bragging!" I had seen Darryl nude before, but not since we had been
married, and he had never (at least, not to my knowledge) been nude in
front of my wife. He looked around the room, at his wife, for a
refusal, and at Heather, for embarrassment, but finding no resistance,
he shrugged and carefully shed his trousers and briefs, pulling them
down slowly and turning his back to us. I barely caught a glimpse of
his half-hard prick before he lay face-down on the towels. I felt a
twitch in my pants, a small stirring; that body was gorgeous. We are
physically quite similar: about the same height and build, well
muscled, no wasted fat. But Darryl has wavy, light brown hair, and
almost no hair on his body, whereas my hair is curly, darker and
shorter, and I am a veritable carpet on my chest, legs and arms.

	Janene knelt down next to him and uncorked the bottle of oil,
the air instantly becoming tainted with the faint, but strengthening
musk of sandalwood, a kind of sweet, incense smell. She dribbled a
little into her hands and warmed it, before slowly rubbing it into
Darryl's back, around his shoulders and down toward his buttocks. As
she increased the force of her massaging Darryl groaned deep and long
with pleasure. I could see the golden flickers of firelight dancing
against his oily bronzed skin, like an airbrush artwork by Boris. I
glanced up at Heather, and she met my gaze. I motioned toward Darryl
with my eyes and Heather lifted her eyebrows. I flicked my eyes toward
Darryl again, and she nodded slightly. She slowly knelt opposite
Janene and started to work on Darryl as well, kneading his muscles
expertly. Again Darryl groaned a deep, satisfied groan, like a
somnolent bear, deep in hibernation, satisfied with it's lot.

	Janene glanced up at me, and smiled. She flicked her head
toward Darryl and raised her eyebrows in a question. Feigning
ignorance I looked around the room, and then pointed toward myself,
mouthing `Me?.' She nodded and went back to her work on Darryl. Oh
what the hell, I thought, and dropped next to them, oiling my hands
and starting work on his legs. As I began smoothing the oil onto his
thighs Darryl spread his legs, to give me better access to his inner
thighs, giving me a magnificent view between his legs to his ballbag.
I massaged deep into his buttocks, and dragged my fingers from the
base of his scrotum, up along the crack of his arse and back down
again. Darryl sighed, and shifted his position slightly, obviously to
relieve the pressure of lying on a growing hardon, and spread his legs
even further. I could feel my own hardon starting to become
uncomfortable in my briefs, as we worked on him, and I was imagining
what it must feel like having three pairs of hands gently but firmly
kneading the fatigue out of tired, knotted muscles.

	Eventually Janene suggested Darryl turn over. I was surprised
when, relaxed as one can get without being a liquid, Darryl sighed and
rolled over onto his back, eyes closed and an expression on his face
saying `Do to me anything you want, only don't stop.' His cock
sproinged to attention, the pattern from the towel embossed into it. I
still had the leg-end of Darryl, so I oiled my hands again and went to
work on his quadriceps. As I was pouring the oil into my hands,
warming it in preparation for application, I noticed Heather and
Janene share a secret smile. Perhaps this situation wasn't as
unplanned as I thought it was. Oh well, go with the flow. If it feels
good, feel it.

	I worked on his legs, pushing my hands forward, up his thighs,
onto his hips, and back down to his thighs. As my fingers passed, his
erect member pulsed slightly, bobbing as if on an invisible string.
Obviously this was turning Darryl on something terrible. Lightly I
brushed my fingers over his legs, then between them, nearly from his
arsehole, slowly, slowly up to the base of his ballbag, then up over
the warm mound of his scrotum, through his soft, downy pubic hair,
lightly from the base of his prick, following the sensitive underside
with my fingers, then playing briefly around the circumcised head. I
could feel the hot flesh throbbing beneath my fingertips, and Darryl
sighed deeply, "Oh god that feels good. Don't you ever, EVER stop
doing that." He shivered slightly as I moved my fingers slowly down
the veined shaft again, to stroke that soft fur of his pubic hair.

	Again I dragged my hands over his flesh, from his knees,
slowly, slowly up his thighs, to the base of his prick, brushing over
his balls. Well oiled, my hand closed around his turgid meat, and slid
up to the swollen head, and back down. Up and back down, my other hand
fondling his balls. Then I carefully dragged my hands back down his
thighs. Darryl lifted his hips, his bobbing member questing after the
hand that had briefly brought such exquisite stimulation. A drop of
thick, clear lubricant dripped slowly from the tip, to ooze down, and
settle on his fine-haired, well muscled abdomen. My own cock was
swelling in my trousers, straining at the fabric, and making me
uncomfortable. I reached into my waistband, and adjusted myself. Oh
what the fuck, I thought, and began removing my clothes.

	"Going to join the growing trend?" I motioned to Heather and
Janene to remove their clothes too. They looked at each other,
hesitated for a few seconds, and then joined in. Heather has a lovely
body, but I always like to appreciate new flesh, and looked long and
hard (if you'll pardon the pun) at Janene's body. Not as tanned as
Heather's, and a little more fat, but bigger breasts. Mmmm, I could
imagine tonguing that lovely pair of pert nipples.

	"You have beautiful breasts. I was just imagining tonguing
that lovely pair of pert nipples." I waggled my tongue lewdly at
Janene.

	Heather guffawed loudly and tried to hide her giggles in her
hand. She turned away, snorting, and knelt back down next to Darryl to
carry on the massage. Janene blushed a little and smiled at me, then
knelt down opposite Heather, working on Darryl's chest and arms. Leg
end again for me huh?

	Again I began working on his legs, and around his genitals,
oiling him heavily with the scented lubricant. Janene sat back on her
heels and flexed her fingers out in front of her.

	"Not used to giving massage huh?" said Heather, "Here, you lie
down on this towel, and I'll give your back a rub."

	Janene gratefully collapsed onto the floor and surrendered to
Heather's expert manipulations of sore muscles, as I continued working
on Darryl.

	He was getting very horny, as demonstrated by the rivulet of
clear fluid leaking from the tip of his rigid dick, pooling onto his
abdomen. And I was aching in the balls myself, horny from rubbing
against his muscled body.

	As I ran my hands up his thighs, Darryl opened his legs
further, so I knelt between them. This allowed me to rub in long, slow
passes, from his knees, up his thighs, past and around his dick, over
his hips, along his stomach up onto his chest. And accidentally tweak
his nipples as I rubbed back down his body. Next time, as I rubbed up,
I gently stroked his dick with one hand, and brushed my fingers
lightly through his pubic hair. I felt his dick jump slightly in my
hand, and he sighed.

	I oiled my hands again, and began to stroke both hands
alternately up his shaft, pulling on his dick with my slippery hands.
Darryl began to tighten his leg muscles, and I could tell he was
nearing orgasm, so I relented and began scratching around his ballbag
with my nails. I leaned forward and touched the tip of his dick with
my tongue. Should I? I have fantasized about it enough. Should I take
this mans meat down my throat? I glanced over at Heather and Janene.
They were both looking at me and smiling, nodding that I should
continue. Oh well, no opposition there.

	Again I leaned forward and held the base of his dick with one
hand, fondling his balls with the other, and slowly ran my lips over
the head of his dick, over the ridge where the glans joins the penis
proper, and licked my tongue against the seamed underside. I was
careful that my teeth didn't touch his sensitive meat, I know that can
be uncomfortable, and as my lips met my fingers at the base of his
dick, I flexed the back of my tongue to push against his dick. My
other hand I slid down between his legs through the crack of his arse.

	"Man oh man that feels heavenly" Darryl groaned. I was glad he
was enjoying this as much as me. I pulled my head back slightly to
slide my lips back up his shaft, the faint taste of oil in my mouth,
not unpleasant, mixing with the vague, untaste of his clear lubricant.
My right hand followed my lips up his shaft, and my left hand traced
up from his arsehole back to his balls. Again I went down, feeling his
rigid meat slip to the back of my throat, my lips following my right
hand down, my left hand sliding back down to his arse. A little
pressure there and the tip of my finger popped into his tight hole,
helped by the liberal oil coating. I felt his sphincter muscles
squeeze hard on my finger, and his cock jumped in my mouth, as his
whole body shook. Thinking he didn't like my finger caressing him
internally I was going to pull out, but he sighed and groaned in
pleasure.

	This was getting me soooo horny, My balls were aching for
release, and my dick was oozing a constant stream of clear fluid. I
had never given a man a blowjob before, but, by the gods, this wasn't
going to be the last! Perhaps I would find out what it was like to
screw a man. The thought thrilled me.

	Slightly faster now, I gradually increased the tempo of my
lips up and down the length of his meat, and worked my finger around
his anus a little. Darryl bent his knees and splayed his legs out,
thrusting his hips forward almost imperceptibly into my mouth. He was
on the edge of orgasm now, so I slowed a little, just to hold him on
the verge of coming. Playing my tongue around the swollen tip of his
dick I eased my finger out of his arse and just traced around his
entrance, my right hand scratching through his pubic hair at the base
of his prick.

	"Oh, man, you're torturing me!" his prick bobbed slightly. He
was close, so close now! Suddenly I dropped my head down, taking his
dick deep down my throat, and pushed my finger back into his hole,
then pulled back, sucking for all I was worth, and sliding my hand up
after my lips. Back down and up, working my finger in his arse.

	Darryl breathed in deeply and grabbed the sides of my head
with his hands, knotting his fingers into my hair. He thrust his hips
forward convulsively and arched his back, forcing his meat far back in
my throat. Then his fingers squeezed my head convulsively and his dick
jumped, pulsed as a wad of hot liquid jetted into my throat. I
swallowed, and moved my head back slightly, pumping his dick with my
hand. Darryl grunted, and again his cock pulsed. The finger in his
warm hole was squeezed tightly in synch with the waves of his orgasm.
My tastebuds were flooded with the taste of him; not as bad as I was
anticipating, quite different to dog come. Every time I swallowed,
another pump of his cock brought forth more come, and I was loving it.
This was the first time I had tasted human come; never having tried my
own (some people enjoy licking their own come out of their women.
Something I was never keen on.)

	The texture of the sperm in my mouth was unusual. Difficult to
swallow, but not too bad. The force of his spasms were easing, so I
slipped my finger from his arse, and relaxed the massage of his dick.
Carefully I cleaned all traces of the semen from his dick with my
tongue, and sat back on my heels. Janene and Heather applauded
quietly.

	"My god!" Darryl still had his eyes closed, and was lying,
drained and relaxed, "Where the hell did you learn to do that!
Janene, take notes from this man."

	"That was my pleasure. Now I have a small problem that needs
taking care of." I HAD to get my rocks off NOW!!