Message-ID: <4667eli$9710061757@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: author22 Subject: Jekyll and Hyde (M/M) ADULTS ONLY!! Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.gay,alt.sex.stories.moderated Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <342BEE5D.20BE@ix.netcom.com> The following is an excerpt from Author22's gay novel, "Mama was a Preacher". The book, in its entirety may be downloaded, free of charge via a link on the authors home page: http://www.netcom.com/~author22/small.html ------------------------------------------------------- Jekyll and Hyde The attraction of bikes, leather clothes, and that transient way of life escaped me. One afternoon everyone was away from our site except for the Count and myself. One of his group rode into our lot. The boy driving the cycle was in his mid twenties. He was about my size. His name was Spider. I had seen him in our audience wearing conventional garb. In his biker outfit he appeared quite different. They contended that their clothing did more than change their appearance, it affected their personalities. I expressed doubts, and Spider suggested that I try on his outfit and see for myself. Spider and I entered the Capitol bus, and undressed. There they were, leather jeans! Laying on the couch. I raised them to my face and lasciviously sniffed the intoxicating smell. The leather smell was now slightly mixed with the smell of Spider's sweat. Slowly I put the leather jeans down on the sofa. There was the biker's jacket. He also had short engineer's boots for his riding. Both of those would fit fine. I sat on the couch and pulled the leather jeans over my legs noting the way they gently squeezed my thighs. Then I stood up. The tight leather jeans did something odd to me. I felt torrid. Even though Spider was just a few feet away sitting in a chair my cock began getting fully hard. How was I going to get the fly closed? In an attempt I pressed my cock painfully up to my belly and slightly over to the left. Then I gave a cautious tug on the zipper, mindful not to catch pubes or cock in the teeth. I had decided not to wear underwear with these leather jeans figuring that even that little extra would increase the tightness. Both my cock and balls started to ache gently. I waited a minute, decided that it felt good anyway and tugged the leather jeans over my hips. I could button the top pretty easily if I sucked in. But the zipper was a different story. My cock was even harder than it had been before and the crotch brought my balls up where the pressure of the leather jeans bore directly on them. When I had finally closed the zipper I could feel the pressure on my balls and cock shift as I moved. If I tensed one ass cheeks, the pressure increased. If I tensed both of them, I could easily imagine passing out from the pressure. I slowly took a few steps and grimaced at the mixture of pain and pleasure shooting from my crotch. I walked around a bit faster, noting that the leather already had some give and the walking was becoming more of a pure pleasure. "O.K." I thought. "Boots are next." They also turned out to be a challenge. They had to be pulled on with a serious tug. But getting my hands down to my feet cramped my balls in this leather armor. After another bout of pleasure - pain, the boots were on and the leather jeans neatly pulled down over the uppers. I stood up. I felt slightly dizzy from the sex heat and the constant pressure on my balls. The feeling was one of sensual excitement. "Now the jacket." Spider's biker jacket was an expensive, genuine horsehide one with all the right zippers and studs. The waist seemed a bit loose; probably because of the constraining leather jeans. I pulled the zipper up to my naval. I walked over to a mirror and turned on a light. I stared. The hot leather dude in the mirror had a bitchin' chest. The leathers caressed the buffed thighs and calves of a real stud. The leather jeans showed my cock in bas - relief. Could it possibly be that big and hard? I slowly turned sideways peering at the obscene bulge of my dick and the huge, firm mounds of my black - leather - encased bubble - butt in profile. I turned further, trying to see the whole of my ass encased in the tight leather. I could see that each cheek was molded into the leather that strained up into my ass crack. That was what was putting pressure on my balls. But try as I would, I could not get a good view of my butt in the leather jeans in a natural pose. I had become oblivious of Spider's presence. I began moving around the bus. The walking caused more stimulation of my cock, balls and ass by the leather jeans. I was sweating. Finally I returned to the mirror. Slowly I extended my hand back to caress my right cheek. Even the slightest touch on the leather covered buttocks shifted the pressure on my cock and balls. It was as if all my sex equipment was connected in parallel to an electrical substation. Electric flashes of pleasure zapped from my ass to my cock. Ignoring Spider I raised my right hand slightly and gave my ass a gentle slap. Waves of pleasure caressed my rampant dick as the leather jeans transmitted the motion. Then another slap. Then another. The slaps got harder. My breathing grew uneven, panting along with the slaps. The sound of my leather covered ass being slapped added to my passion. The sight in the mirror was mesmerizing. With little warning, my cock exploded. It pumped so many times that I lost count. The orgasm was so intense that I barely had time to grasp at the sink before the involuntary twitches of ecstasy consumed me. Spider's leather jeans filled with steamy jism from a reserve that I had never tapped before. I staggered into the toilet and sat down before I blacked out. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed as I sat on the john in the leathers. Then came the laborious, and embarrassing task of cleaning the jeans and returning them to Spider. When I handed them to their owner, he grinned at me and said, "So what do you think of leathers? Make a difference?" "Yeah, Jekyll and Hyde," was my reply. During the rest of August and early September the Counts group integrated into our congregation. Both they, and us consciously made it a point to see that the integration was with the congregation and not the ministerial contingent. I was always embarrassed when I encountered Spider. My deviant behavior was too private to be shared with anyone but Cowboy. ---------------------------------------- The above is an excerpt from Author22's gay novel, "Mama was a Preacher". The book, in its entirety may be downloaded, free of charge via a link on the authors home page: http://www.netcom.com/~author22/small.html -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /