Marcus McManus's Problem

Let me first introduce myself. My name is Marcus Sinclair McManus. I am twenty-five years old, single and I live in Los Angeles. I work in advertising for a relatively small, but very successful and profitable agency called Sinclair McManus, which I also happen to own. I became the sole owner of this agency, founded by my parents Andrew McManus and Jennifer Sinclair, some three years ago, at the tender age of twenty-two, when both my parents were killed outright in a truly horrible automobile crash. I had not wanted to go to College and aged eighteen and had entered the family business as a junior trainee. As an only child, I inherited the business, lock, stock and barrel on my parents' deaths.

What the staff thought about a young man of twenty-two, still wet about the gills in the view of many of them, becoming their boss, I do not know. Suffice it to say that in the last three years, under my direction, the business has gone from strength to strength and now employs about fifty people. We have a faithful core group of clients who provide us with a regular basis of our business, but I discovered that I have the knack of getting on with potential clients and so I have been successful in increasing our turnover by some 25% a year in the last three years since I took over.

On the unfortunate deaths of my parents, I also inherited the family condominium in a really nice residential area of Los Angeles. This is a huge - and I mean really enormous -penthouse apartment of some 5000 square feet, with large and sunny, non-overlooked roof terrace. I had, in fact moved out from this, my family home, shortly after joining the company as a trainee, as I wanted to be independent of my parents, But when the accident happened, making me owner of the place, I moved back in and that is where I have lived for the past three years.

All in all, I earn a very handsome living from my business and with a sizeable legacy I also inherited from my parents I live a very comfortable life. Not to put too fine a point on it, I am what is crudely referred to as "stinking rich". Bred and born in Los Angeles, I cannot imagine living anywhere else than in the city which I love. So there, in a nutshell you have a quick rundown on me, a super-well-heeled young bachelor for whom life is apparently everything it should be. But as ever, things are not always what they seem to be on first sight.

Let me tell you something about my personal life and you will then understand my problem. I am not going to indulge in false modesty about my physical attributes; nor am I bragging. I just want you to understand fully the situation in which I find myself.

I am physically a highly attractive looking fair young man. I am just over six foot tall; I have a muscular physique, which I have honed to perfection by regular exercise in a gym, three or four times a week and I am very well endowed. I love that expression "well endowed" don't you? Statistics about men speak of a guy's "endowment" or his "manhood" both of which are nothing more than mealy mouthed euphemisms for the size and appearance of his penis and testicles. Now I can understand that these two words, which correctly identify a guy's most important physical attributes, are not particular mellifluous to the ear; they sound so clinical and foreboding; but I see no reason to use such vapid and indeterminate terms as endowment and manhood.

For crying out loud, let's just call them by the names that have become totally commonplace and acceptable today: a guy has a cock and balls or a dick and nuts; and we all know precisely that we are talking about when the expression "man-meat" is used. Come on everyone: we are in the second decade of the twenty-first century and we are referring to guy's most precious attributes; the very parts of his anatomical attributes which give him the greatest pleasure in life: in a single word: sex and all that that word implies.

Well I said that I was not going to indulge in false modesty, so let me tell you that I am particularly well equipped (I almost said endowed!) with these two marvellous appendages between my legs. In fact I have, by any standards a magnificent cock and ball combination. I know that many guys at the gym I use are green with envy when they see me naked in the showers. In fact I admit to having a certain narcissistic streak in my make-up and I quite enjoy strutting my stuff, as it is often put: I've got it, so why not vaunt it?

My balls, which by the greatest of good chance, are naturally housed in a scrotum which is held tight beneath my cock, are of a good but not excessive size and have the distinction of being well separated so that my cock when soft sits neatly between two well defined nuts. And as for my cock itself; well I am blessed with a piece of man-meat which the average guy can but dream of owning. How or why I have been endowed by Mother Nature with such a magnificent shaft of uncontrollable flesh, I have no idea; but I have and I am inordinately proud of what I've got: any guy would be!

My cock, when soft, is no less than seven inches in length and has a diameter of a good two inches. It has that wonderful characteristic, even when soft, of being rubbery rather than just limp. It leaves my body more or less at right angles rather than just hanging down between my legs and sits in a gentle downward curve between my balls. All in all, I think it looks brilliant. I have seen lots of guys naked over the years and not one of them has a cock and ball combination equal to mine. I see guys in the showers at the gym I patronise, looking with envy at what I have between my legs.

Like most young Americans of my age, I was circumcised as a baby. Whoever cut me and removed my foreskin was a real crack, for I have a cock with a magnificently presented head, even when soft, set off from the shaft by a well defined rim. When I am really hard and have a true boner on, my tool becomes a formidable weapon. Depending on the occasion and circumstances, I can sport up to a nine inch (or even ten, if I am feeling really horny; I kid you not!) erection surmounted by an attractive gleaming head; and here's the thing; my rock-hard cock, when ready for action, is dead straight.

Believe me when I say that few guys can equal what I have got going for me. I think that a dead straight fuck-stick is a real advantage and looks so much better than those curved jobs which many guys have. I don't mind too much if the curve is upwards, but if a guy has a cock which veers off to one side or the other, then I don't find that at all attractive.

I know that many of the girls in the office see me as a super hunk, which, with no false modesty as I said at the outset, I suppose I am. Alas for these chicks in my office, their carnal desires to get themselves laid by their boss are never going to be realised, as in case you had not already guessed it by now now, I am a hundred and ten percent gay; in fact, I'm as gay as a coot, though what that poor bird has done to deserve such opprobrium I have no idea. But there you have it; I have no interest sexually at all in women; I have never ever had sex with one and I have never ever wanted to.

I quite enjoy female company, but members of the female sex just do not push my sexual buttons. So a message to those fathers who are protective of their daughters' innocence; they would be completely safe with me. Which raises an interesting point; what's with this business of protecting their daughters' innocence? Come on dads; when you were young, footloose and fancy free, how many of you did not spent your spare time chasing the chicks with a view to fucking them? And now, with what seems to me to me to be hypocritical self-righteousness, you want to deny the next male generation the same pleasure. And another thought; many women like working alongside gay men, as they feel they will not be subject to sexual harassment and innuendo from their male colleagues. My own very powerful sexual desires lie only in the direction of other men; which brings me to the crux of this story: my problem.

When I joined the family business aged eighteen, I was that exception to the general rule: I was an eighteen year-old virgin. I had no experience at all of sex, either heterosexual or homosexual and, in fact, to be quite frank with you, I was not at all sure where my own sexual preferences lay. In this I was really being very naive with myself, for I had long known that I was not at all interested in the opposite sex. I had never had a girl friend, for example; but I had not appreciated that the undoubted attraction I had for members of my own sex would grow into the total obsession which it has become today.

Whether my parents were aware of my latent homosexual tendencies, I have no idea, for we never talked together about sex at all and my father never took me on one side, as fathers are supposed to do (do any of them actually do it though?) and explained to me what are usually referred to as "the facts of life". So what I knew or thought I knew about sex was all obtained by hearsay, innuendo and osmosis from my schoolmates. I have to say that if I were a father of a son and faced with that delicate task, I am not at all sure that I would not chicken out and somehow let him find out for himself. It would, in my view, avoid considerable embarrassment both for the instructor and the instructed

But my first actual encounter with the joys of sex was brought home to me very pointedly, when another young trainee at Sinclair McManus took me in hand, in the nicest possible way I might add, and robbed me of my virginity. The way it happened gave me my first actual encounter with another warm body, since which time I have never looked back. Sean O'Connor was the guy's name and he and I had become quite friendly, being the two youngest members of the agency's staff. Sean was from Boston, as his Irish name indicated and through family connections had come to the West Coast for a year as an intern at Sinclair-McManus. And even though I was the son of the then proprietors of the business, Sean and I had no difficulty in getting on together. Like me, Sean was a muscular young stud and like me he loved working out in the gym and so we quickly formed a bond.

The gym in question was open to the general public and was located on the ground floor of the building in which Sinclair-McManus had its offices and he and I regular worked out there together. Sean was sexually not quite as well equipped as I myself am, but he was nevertheless a very attractive looking hunk when he was in the showers. He had seen that I regularly had my eyes fixed on his vital parts, which was by no means one-sided, by the way, as he also often seemed to have his eye glued on my cock and balls. So I guess it is fair to say that we had a mutual admiration for each other's equipment. And it was precisely in the showers that I lost my anal virginity to this guy.

We used to soap each other up and lark around together in the showers after working out and then, one evening, when we were quite alone, I suddenly was aware that his fingers were probing ever more deeply into the cleft of my arse until he finally was working on my sphincter itself. Then, without actually asking me if I wanted it, (in fact neither of us had uttered a word as all this was developing) he pushed his now rock-hard cock against my anal sphincter. My first reaction was to tell him to cut it out, and to back-off; but suddenly his arms were round me and he was whispering into my ear: "Come on Marcus; let me in; you know you want it don't you?"

Sean's voice was so very reassuring that I relaxed and the next thing I knew I felt his hard tool slide smoothly inside me. I tensed momentarily, but then who would not have done the same, having just been shafted for the very first time, more or less unannounced as it were. I felt a short sharp pain but that soon disappeared as Sean began very gently fucking my hole with what was clearly a well experienced cock. As he got into his stride, he increased both the force and length of his stroke and I found myself truly enjoying the sensation of having my arsehole reamed for the first time.

I had no idea at all what to expect until Sean suddenly reached a climactic orgasm. His whole body shook spasmodically again and again as he pumped his load of cream straight into me. My own cock was by now rock-hard and without any manual assistance from me, I suddenly experienced the first orgasm of my life which I had not achieved by jerking off. It was only much later and by then an experienced copulator myself, that I learned that what Sean had achieved in his first fuck with me was really quite remarkable.

And if you think about it, you will know what I mean. Just look at any of the thousands of porn video shots of men fucking each other to be found on the internet and you will see that it is in fact rare for the fucker to cum directly into his partner. Both guys usually finish up reaching their respective climaxes separately by jerking themselves off manually; it does not usually seem to happen during the sex act itself.

Sean stayed inside me, still rock-hard for several minutes as he hugged me. Then he whispered into my ear: "Marcus, that was your very first time, wasn't it? You were just so very attractive in the shower, that I could not resist shafting you. But believe me, I had no idea that you were still an anal virgin until I had finished, when it suddenly hit me. I am right aren't I?"

I had no idea what I should say to this. He was, of course, quite right, but I now had to face the embarrassment of admitting to him that here I was, aged eighteen, a well-set up and sexually well equipped young man, who was totally inexperienced in any form of sex. It was only at that moment that it finally hit upon me that I was totally gay; that my future sex life was something I would enjoy with other men and that, first time or not, I had enjoyed having my arse fucked; and what a fuck it had been. Totally inexperienced, though I was, I somehow sensed nevertheless, that my first time had been exceptional experience; exceptional for me and equally exceptional for Sean. This had been transmitted to me by the way in which Sean had climaxed inside me and had shaken with emotion as he shot his wad deep into my hole.

Reading back over what I have just said, I know it sounds as if I was fully conversant with not only the physical act of male anal sex, but also with the physiological and emotional feelings which accompany every sex act. But, in fact, that is not so; I had been taken totally unawares and had surrendered my anal virginity to my friend Sean; but I had enjoyed every single moment of what this young stud had done to me: or better said what this young stud had done "for" me; for his impromptu act had been my epiphany: my initiation into the world of gay sex: a world which I just knew that was going to enjoy forever.

Sean turned me round to face him and continued to embrace me. He kissed me; it was the first time that any man had ever done anything so intimate with me. In fact, in view of my indifference to girls, I can only remember my mother having kissed me as mothers often do to their sons: apart from her, there was no one. Sean was for no reason quite contrite: "I am so sorry," he said, "I simply did not know; but I am right; aren't I? You were a virgin weren't you?"

I finally admitted that he was right but hastened to add that I would be ever grateful to him for what he had just done for me. Firstly he had introduced me to one aspect of anal sex but more importantly, he had also brought home to me that I was completely gay; a fact which I could now admit fully and openly to myself. Thanks to this one impulsive and impromptu act of sex by Sean, I had found my true sexual identity; any doubt I might have had, had gone from my mind. I am not sure of just now things went on from there between us that fateful day, but as you might well imagine, Sean persuaded me to exercise my cock on his anus; and so it was that at the end of this totally impromptu evening, I had fully experienced (and enormously enjoyed) both key activities of gay male sex: to have my own arse fucked and to fuck arse in turn.

This evening marked a turning point in my life; it liberated me from any inhibitions I had hitherto harboured about my own sexuality; I now knew I was gay: totally gay; I had now finally acknowledged the fact to myself and I had every intention of enjoying my newly found status in life. And enjoy it I did with gusto. Sean and I became regular sex partners. Sean, who was a really nice guy, had already made a number of gay friends in Los Angele and he very generously introduced me to them; so, I very quickly became part of a group of gay young men who met regularly for sex.

There was nothing specially organised about what we did, nor was the group in any way like a club. We were just a disparate group of like minded young studs who found that we each needed gay sex on a regular basis and so we enjoyed getting together to indulge our mutual pleasure in the act of copulation - fucking arse and sucking cocks to be quite specific. We used to congregate in one or another of our apartments and enjoy the undoubted pleasures of gay sex together. We were as a group, all fairly well heeled and worldly wise about the dangers of unprotected sex, so we always used condoms and plenty of lubricant s in our sexual activities, which could be very vigorous indeed; excessively vigorous some observers might have remarked. But we were young and eager and we fucked each other with gay abandon.

It was at this time, in order to be free to do as I pleased, that I left my family home, my parent's apartment, and all the comforts of my life hitherto and moved into the small apartment I mentioned earlier. Whether my parents realised or not the direction my life had taken, I never knew, for we never discussed what I did outside the office. I went home (I still thought of their place as home) to regular meals and I guess my lack of female company must have been a clear indication that their son and heir was not of the marrying kind.

At the Christmas-New Year break, Sean and I, at his suggestion booked a seven day vacation at a gay mens' naked resort on a Caribbean island. We flew to Miami and a small turbo-prop plane picked us up there and took us this paradise on earth. And it was a paradise, for total nudity for both guests and staff was mandatory.

On arrival we were met at the reception by a totally naked very handsome Latino, muscular and super well-equipped where it matters. He gave us the key to our lockers, where we had to leave all our clothes and belongings for the entire length of our stay. Our locker keys were on necklace-like chains, so that we did not lose them. The receptionist took imprints of our credit cards to cover the cost of any non-included drinks and extras we might order during our stay. After shedding our clothes, another super-looking young stud showed us to our dormitory and after that we were foot-loose and fancy free, our cocks and balls swinging invitingly in the warm air, to do as we pleased. Did we feel embarrassed to find ourselves thrown into this totally nude environment? In fact not at all, for what ti sho0wedus was just how great we ourselves looked. Few guys we met ( and subsequently fucked, I might add) were as well equipped as we were.

A word about the sleeping arrangements; there were no private bedrooms, as all the guests were expected to sleep totally naked in small luxurious dormitories each with six beds, and a very large multi-man shower, The general ethos of the place was that sex was freely available anywhere and everywhere and at all times and that guests should feel free to do exactly as they wished; and this is, indeed, what they did. On the way to our dorm we saw several couples fucking away in public. It was a truly relaxed sexual atmosphere where copulation in all its many aspects was the chief form of relaxation: relaxation for the performers and entertainment for the observers. In tecourse of our stay, we indulged in both. The freedom from controls was trulyliberating.