Survivor Amazon

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Ryan's departure leads him to reflection and self-loving.
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Survivor belongs to CBS, Mark Burnett, etc. I am making no profits. By using these incredibly gorgeous and sensual men in fictional sexual situations, I am not implying anything about their true sexual preferences. This is made up. I retain the copyright to my story - don't archive or distribute without my permission. If you have any thoughts or comments, things like pairing or sexual suggestions (watersports, spanking, threesomes, foursomes, including people from past seasons, etc.), then leave a message or e-mail me, please!

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23-year old part-time model Ryan sighed as he flexed his biceps in the mirror. Being voted off first was humiliating, sure, yeah. A guy lies to his friends and family and vanishes in the jungles just to spend a month and a half watching foreign soap operas. But that wasn't what annoyed Ryan.

Where were the hot chicks? What good were his dreamy brown eyes and adorably goofy grin if he had no one to share them with?

He had been sure that the first woman to go would be some young babe. Maybe the swimsuit model who was so skinny she could wear her bandana as a raincoat. Or the hot blonde with the bad implants. They seemed unstable. But no, the first person to join him in the loser lodge was Janet, a housewife and mother who looked the part in every way. She was a great lady, very funny and warm, but more of a mama than a hot mama.

Bored out of his mind, Ryan began his recently adopted morning regimen of 30 sit-ups. He would occasionally catch glances of himself in the mirror, his chiseled, undershirt-clad upper torso drenched, a lone trickle of perspiration running down his tricep. Instinctively, he flicked his tongue against the salty droplets, lapping up his sweat. As he tasted himself, the body odor from his exercise routine wafted near his flared nostrils. Instinctively, Ryan buried his nose in his sweaty right armpit, the pungent, all-man smell reminding him of the testosterone back in Tambaqui, or "Camp Sausage Fest" as he had called the place. Ryan unconsciously groped his bulge as he switched to the fresh left pit.

Curious, Ryan pushed his face further into the dark recesses, first smelling and quickly tasting his pheromones, his lips and tongue brushing against the trimmed hairs they greeted. He'd never tongued a man's ass before, and wondered if this would have the same sensation - dark, sweaty, musky, lined with hairs. The thought of fingers in his hole made his cock jump, yearning to be freed from the confines of his snug boxers. Pausing long enough to remove his mouth from the dark recesses of his stinky pits, Ryan stood up, walking to the bathroom for his morning shower.

His reflection caught his eye as he turned the spigot on. He was pretty fucking hot. That wasn't news to him - models aren't exactly dogs - but not until he spent 3 days and 2 nights sleeping, bathing, eating only with men, stripped down to the essentials, breathing in only their scent. He'd had more than one head job from a skilled masculine tongue, had returned the favor after drinking enough booze to render him guilt-free the next morning, and could admit to himself that he liked the feel of another man's dick in his palm. But only in the past few days had he realized how sexually arousing the male form could be.

Ryan's small beige nipples hardened from the feel of the cold tile against his feet. He smirked at the sight of the strong veins trailing down his lanky arms, his loose six-pack lightly straining the cotton fabric with each breath he took. He slowly peeled the tight garment over his head, studying his skin. Tenderly, he traced a path around his pectorals, scratching and tugging at each erect nub.

When he got to his faint treasure trail, Ryan slid down his form-fitting underwear. The medium-sized meat between his legs smacked his stomach with a satisfyingly gooey plop. As he tugged at his tight, acorn-sized nutsac, he let out a slight whimper. His penis was expanding to the full 8 inches, the mushroom head jabbing at the cool marble sink and begging for attention. On the second day in camp, when some of the guys were washing, Ryan decided to see how far they would go, test a few limits, and stripped totally naked. As he expected, the guys who were around stared in surprise and then quickly shucked their own shorts and underpants, not wanting to look like they had something to hide. He thought of class clown Rob and his fat, stubby hog, of 24-year old Dave the rocket scientist with his sleepy grin and bedroom eyes, leisurely scrubbing his low-hangers and long, thin pecker. Most surprising of all was Roger, the 50ish self-imposed leader of the group, exposing his very fit, hairy body and long, thick 6 inches, a veiny uncot hog as thick around as his wrist.

Ryan's entire body shuddered gratitude when he began circling the sensitive crown and glans, scraping his neatly-trimmed thumbnail into the oozing piss slit. He imagined wiping his thick head against Roger's forehead and mouth, making the ageist geezer beg for a nice, juicy meat sandwish, shoving that tube down his throat as he gagged for more.

Ryan turned for a better view of front and back. He'd spent a long time working on his rear end, and it showed. A muscled, shapely rump, Charmin cheeks perfect to squeeze or sink your teeth into. His ass had received glances and the occasional pat or rub from both genders, but as he more vigorously pumped his raging prick, he thought of how unexplored the territory was. He'd never encouraged his trysts to play with his cheeks. Few had tried. But he remembered one stud who didn't care how many protestations were muttered from Ryan's pillowy lips. Ryan imitated him and slid two fingers down, rubbing against his hair-dusted crack, teasing the puckering rosebud which waited there. His strokes turning sloppier and longer, precum dripping down his thigh, Ryan shoved the two digits inside himself, imagining them to be a cock, Roger's cock, tearing him up and making him call out for Daddy...

His front teeth sank into his plush lower lip as he exploded at the forbidden images polluting his mind. Ropes of pent-up, milky white seed sprayed from his tiny slit, coating his feet, the floor, his legs, his hands. Ryan sank to the floor, groaning as the last shots erupted. He was unable to form words, only to pant as he tugged at his waning erection, gathering the cock snot pooled on his body and trickling out of his red, swollen manhood to lick off his fingers. He leant his head against the wall, spent, catching his breath as best he could. He really needed company.

Knowing that another castaway would be voted out tomorrow, a hot babe or maybe Roger or Daniel or Dave, made him tug at his shaft again. Ryan glanced down as his sleepy snake slowly came back to life. Boy, he'd really need that shower now.

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