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    Rigby Taylor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Mortaumal - 27. Revolution

The males arrived just in time to prevent Mort from throwing off his disguise and declaring every female insane. It was a sight to be treasured. Midas, followed by fifteen healthy men. Heads high, talking easily among themselves, no hands covering groins, slightly nervous smiles glued to their youthful or not so youthful faces. All shapes and sizes from long and lean to short and stocky. Some hairy, others mostly smooth. Several tanned, the rest shades of pinkish white. The only two things they had in common were they all looked fit and able to walk ten kilometres without a fuss, and none were overweight. It was a revelation for Mort who’d unconsciously adopted the popular idea of male attractiveness—Latin looks, gym toned tanned bodies, symmetrical features and a thick head of dark hair. None of these men looked remotely like that, yet they were all attractive for the simple reason that they were slim and fit. That, Mort realised, is all it takes to be physically attractive.

The men were several metres out onto the patio before anyone registered, then… a loud, angry squawk.

‘Midas! You’re naked! Cover yourself.’

‘No, I feel…’

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Caterina screeched. ‘I will not have men running around naked in my house. Go! All of you filthy men. Go! This is the result of letting that sly fellow in to seduce you with his godless nonsense!’

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Midas bellowed.

The shocked silence triggered a bout of nervous girlish giggles.

‘You women always do as you like with your bodies; painting your faces, wearing whatever and as much or as little as you like, so have the decency to let your men have the same freedom.’

‘But…’

‘Shut up Catty or I’ll throw you in the pool. I feel like wearing nothing, so that’s what I’ll do. Now, where’s that food?’

Astounded by his vehemence, the watching females remained silent for several seconds, and then the shouting began, followed by three separate splashes.

Three bedraggled wives heaved themselves out of the pool looking like drowned rats.

‘You’ve ruined my dress!’

‘My hair! Oh you utter pig... I’ll…’

Splash.

‘I’ve nothing to change into.’

‘Then follow my example.’

‘Oh... You are horrible!’

Then all three burst into tears, which were wisely ignored, so they stopped and fumed silently, planning revenge.

It was a warm night, towels were brought, hair and bodies more or less dried.

‘Come on guys, let’s have a swim while the women calm down.’ The speaker, a slim fellow with a wonderfully hairy chest and legs, raced onto the diving board, bounced several times causing several hearts to pound, then dived cleanly into the pool. Fourteen naked men and boys followed; bouncing and diving, hauling themselves out and running round to do it again, shouting, laughing, doing honey-pots, ducking each other and having the best time they could remember in a pool.

‘It feels great being naked doesn’t it? I’m never going to swim in those stupid baggies again. This is sooooo good!’

Shouts of agreement, laughter, noisy boisterous fun—while the females did nothing except look on in electrified astonishment and dawning envy.

‘Come on in,’ one of the boys called to the girls. ‘But you’ve got to strip, this is nude night.’

The girls shook their heads, unwilling to accept that the hot feeling in their throat was jealousy. They’d love to be as free as the boys. To dive in, clamber out, run around, look so slim and agile and fit and healthy, and dive in again and play and push people under and... Why was it never like that when they swam with girls? All they ever did was swim boring lengths or stand at the shallow end and gossip about everyone else and pull the boys’ and other girls’ characters and bodies to bits.

But... but these boys were not the one’s they thought they knew. These were... they didn’t know who they were. All they knew was they would very much like to cry because it was so beautiful; so like their dreams of arcadia where everything was different, but nice. There were no words to express the feeling of hopeless sadness when they suddenly realised they would never experience such easy fun doing the sorts of active things from which they were excluded because they were girls. But they stayed to watch because they wanted make sure they didn’t miss a single penis as it flashed past when the boys leaped out of the water and ran to the diving board. The older men were slower, more careful; interesting, but not so exciting.

Taking advantage of the relative peace while the other males had fun, Mort controlled his urges to join them in the pool and took Caterina’s hand, stroking it gently.

‘Catty dear, relax. It isn’t that important. They’re only men being silly. They’re trying to annoy us. The best thing is to ignore them and when they see we’re not impressed they’ll toe the line again.’

Caterina Geld sniffed. ‘Do you think so, dear? It was different when your fiancé was performing on that frame thing, he wasn’t part of us; it was as if he was on television—not real. But it’s hard to accept that all these men I know so well could be so... so…’

‘Let’s laugh about it, shall we? Show we’re above such silliness. Come on, you’re a strong woman. Let the men have their fun.’

‘I can’t do anything. I feel too upset. And so do the other women. You organise everything.’

‘If you're sure.’ Mort found a plastic poolside chair, hoped it would prove strong enough and assisted his hostess to subside into it, then joined the girls watching the males disporting themselves in the pool. Their mothers, unable to understand their husbands’ behaviour were arguing, complaining, vying for the status of most upset, wondering why their husband and son felt the need to expose their bodies. Men were there to admire women’s bodies, not to take pleasure in their own, which weren’t really worth looking at. Their daughters’ constant giggling only exacerbated their annoyance.

Perhaps the most aggravating thing—apart from discovering their husbands were not as pliable as they thought, was the laconic response, ‘I just felt like it,’ when asked why they were running around naked. It only made their spouses confused and upset, so it was something of a relief when after a quarter of an hour of noisy male horseplay, Mortaumal banged on an empty saucepan for attention.

They turned to see who would tell them what to do, how to react, how to stop being angry. That was always the hardest part. How to stop being angry? They weren't really; it was just the initial shock and Caterina’s reaction that made them think they ought to be. Now they secretly thought it wasn’t so bad after all. But how to admit it without losing face?

‘The food’s ready everyone,’ Mort called in a voice made somewhat lower than usual by having to shout. ‘Come and get it or I’ll throw it out.’ He grinned. That had been his grandfather’s expression all those years ago. It seemed a lifetime, but it was only six years. He sighed and watched as the men clambered out of the pool, shook themselves and jumped up and down, setting their audience’s pulses racing. Still dripping, they wandered over to the buffet to mingle with wives, sons, sisters and daughters.

Awkward laughter, sheepish smiles, silent apologies and glances of understanding were swapped as everyone bumped into each other, self-consciously helped themselves to plates, filled them and retreated to a stone balustrade overlooking the pool. Balancing plates on the flat top, they ate, chatted awkwardly about everything except clothes, kept eyes well above belts—or where belts would normally have been, moved back to the buffet for drinks, then finally gathered in groups; boys at one end, girls at another, males and female adults similarly divided, to sort out their ideas.

Hale joined Mort at the pool. Mort kicked off his sandals and they sat with their feet in the water.

‘Midas is still determined to divorce Catty.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘She’s being difficult, so we planned that she would surprise him in flagrante delicto with me.’

‘And you want me to ensure you are surprised?’

‘How did you guess?’

‘I’ve a mind almost as devious as yours.’

‘I’ve realised. So I’ll give you a signal when we leave, then you ask Catty, who I think is in love with you, to take you on a tour of the house, ending in Midas’s bedroom about twenty minutes later.’

‘No probs.’

‘By the way. Massimo is deeply in lust with you and I told him to try it on, said he’d be pleasantly surprised.’

‘He is rather sexy. Have you seen the size of his dick? It’s lucky I’m determined to remain an anal virgin. But I certainly wouldn’t turn such a sweet young man away. Has he guessed I’m not what I seem?’

‘No, so let him down lightly.’

‘Oh dear... I foresee problems.’

 

The girls were deep in gossip mode...

‘I didn’t know boys thighs were so sexy!’

‘I love their bums! So round and full.’

‘Have you seen Massimo’s penis! It’s twice as big as all the other boys. I want to touch it.’

‘You’re kinky.’

‘No she isn’t. I want to know what their balls feel like... they look so soft and cute, like little mice, nesting in their hair.’

‘What about Dad! His balls hang really low and when he bent over they swayed around.’

‘But they don’t look dirty, do they? I mean, I thought if there were naked men in a place they’d be… I don’t know what I thought. I just... it’s just that this isn’t strange at all after a while. Like watching Hale perform, I forgot he was naked.’

‘Me too.’

‘And some of the boys have really big muscles. I didn’t realise they were so different from us. They don’t look anything like a girl, do they?’

‘I like Jock’s stomach; it’s so hard and lean.’

‘Watch out, here comes Midas. Look at his huge thighs.’

‘So, girls. Are you all shocked?’

‘Not at all,’ the red head said with a nonchalant toss of her head. ‘We think it’s all perfectly natural and nothing to get excited about.’

‘Then I admire you all. I hope you’ll tell your mothers to react the same way.’ He turned to go.

‘Midas?’ The youngest girl was frowning.

‘Yes, Sonja?’

‘What does it feel like to have a tube sticking out like that, and balls hanging? Does it hurt? Does it get in the way?’

The four other girls held their breaths, expecting a snarl of anger. But Midas looked down at himself calmly, smiled and replied thoughtfully, ‘It doesn’t feel any stranger than my nose sticking out, or my ears hanging on the side of my head. I was born with them. And they certainly don’t hurt. Usually they don’t get in the way because they’re tucked neatly between my legs as you can see. You girls who have breasts know that it’s nice sometimes to walk around and let them hang free, don’t you?’

Shock was replaced by relief. So it was OK to do that! They’d always felt guilty. They nodded, eyes glittering with love for this man who was so understanding, so real, so sexy, so much the man of their dreams that they wanted to either scream or cry or both.

‘Well, I think you are all very sensible young women, and therefore you have a hope of having a happy marriage, as long as you understand that men are made differently, and think differently about many things.’ He wandered off.

‘What a sexy bum! I want to kiss it.’

‘I want to play with his fat tube and make it stiff like Calypso told us.’

‘Mmmm...me too.’

Everyone subsided in giggles. This was the most exciting night of their lives.

 

‘That was awesome! Swimming in the nud. Feeling the water rushing past my balls gave me a hard on. Fuck! I’m never going to wear togs again.’

‘You said that before. But I agree... except we have to in public.’

‘Yeah, but we don’t have to wear those bloody baggies. I’d never realised how much they hold you back. I’ve always hated swimming before, but tonight I felt as if I could fly through the water. Swimming’s a piece of cake. It’s... I’m buying a speedo as soon as I can get to a shop.’

‘Me too.’

‘The girls seem cool about it.’

Yeah, but who cares, and for how long. Wait till they get to school and blab to all their gossipy mates. Have any of you told them why we’re naked?’

‘No way! Hale was right. Saying you just felt like it shuts them up big time. Midas said it all I reckon.’

‘Sure did…’ and the talk moved away from girls and on to interesting topics like cars and sport and computers and acrobatics and the holidays.

 

Hale joined the adult males whose conversation had turned to the economy, up-coming election, lack of rain, changing climate, fuckwit politicians who wanted to dredge the Barrier Reef and dump the spoil in an endangered wetland. They’d forgotten they were naked. They’d forgotten their wives were mostly still in denial, they were full of good food, happy with themselves and unwilling to return to their old selves.

‘What do you say we start up a nudist club for men only?’

‘Are we allowed to?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We’d probably be fined for being sexist and forced to accept them.’

‘Then we’d all resign and leave the bitches who want to barge in to pay the rent.’

‘Ah fuck it. Let’s just get together regularly, unofficially as mates and go somewhere nice.’

‘And have our wives sue for divorce and half the estate and the kids and the house because we didn’t include her. Why on earth I got myself trapped I’ll ever know.’

‘At least you got yourself a fine young son.’

‘Yes. But I’m so worried about rising seas and droughts and floods that I often feel guilty about what’s ahead for him and wish I hadn’t had him. He’s got a shitty life ahead I reckon…’

‘All our kids have. It sure isn’t going to be the sort of life we’ve had.’

Midas excused himself, and a few minutes later Hale said it was getting late and time for him to be off.

Mort winked as Hale went past.

Taking Catty’s arm, he led her away from the other women. ‘Catty, I’m so lucky to have met you and visited your extraordinary house. Would it be presumptuous to ask for a small tour to see the inside? I can only imagine what your genius for interior decoration has come up with.’

Caterina literally glowed. A disastrous evening was turning pleasant. None of her church friends had ever wanted to look around; jealousy, that’s what it was, she knew that, but still it hurt. ‘Calypso! You sweetie. I’d love nothing more. I just have to go to the little girl’s room, so I’ll meet you in the entrance hall in five minutes.’

‘That’ll be wonderful, thanks.’ Mort caught Massimo’s eye and beckoned him over. ‘Your mother’s taking me on a tour, Come with us?’

Massimo’s eyed lit, ‘Yeah! Actually, I know why, I was there when Dad asked Hale to trap her. But I really want to tell you I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.’

‘Not sexy?’

‘Yeah! Really sexy.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Can I touch your back? It’s driving me mad looking at it when you walk past.’ He hung his head as if waiting for the rebuke.

‘I would like that very much.’

‘Honestly! Gosh.’ he ran his hand over Mort’s shoulder blades, then down his spine to the base where he ran out of courage.

‘Why are you stopping?’

‘I thought…’

‘Don’t think, that always spoils things.’

Massimo’s hand slipped lower, under the silk and on until it was caressing the sexiest buttocks he had ever imagined. His breathing became ragged. ‘Ah, fuck. I’ve got a hard on. Look at it, what’ll I do?’

‘You will stand straight so it sticks out as far as possible while still looking natural, and then we’ll walk past the girls and I’ll say something to them, you’ll just smile like a cat that’s licked the cream, and we’ll wander off to the entrance hall to meet your mother. OK? Are you a man or a mouse?’

‘Massimo thrust out his chest, held his head high, smiled nonchalantly and they wandered casually to the girls who ceased their gossiping and stared with open mouths.

‘Massimo is taking me on a tour of the house, isn’t that nice of him?’

The girls were speechless until Mort and Massimo were almost out of earshot, then: ‘Did you see that? Massimo’s enormous.’

‘Yes!’

‘He was so stiff you could use it as a... whatever.’

‘I didn’t realise he was so sexy.’

‘That Calypso must be a whore, she’s got a fiancé and now she’s letting Massimo fuck her.’

‘Do you think they’ll fuck?’

‘That’s why he’s got that huge, huge, cock.’

‘I wish I was Calypso.’

‘What’d you do?’

‘Play with that big stiff rod. I can’t wait to get to school and tell everyone.’

They subsided into excited giggles, whispers and fevered imaginings.

 

‘Your mother said five minutes and we’ve only been about three, so let’s wait in this little room beside the stairs in case someone comes, we don’t want them asking questions.

They partially closed the door and stood looking at each other in the dim light from the chandelier above the stair well. ‘What’ll we do?’

Massimo’s eyes blazed, he took a deep breath, wrapped his arms around Calypso’s waist, gazed into his eyes, then glued his mouth against Mort’s, groaning in ecstasy, sliding his hands down the back of Mort’s dress, massaging his buttocks, and thrusting his erection against the other’s groin.

Then abruptly, he stopped, frowned, looked down, grasped the hem of Mort’s dress and hauled it up to expose a bright red pouch that was obviously full to overflowing with something that looked suspiciously like…

‘Hold your dress up,’ he commanded.

Nervously, for Massimo was not only tall but correspondingly strong, Mort held up the hem of his frock while Massimo kneeled, dragged down the pouch, grasped the erection that escaped, inspected it carefully, then popped it into his mouth and began gently raising and lowering his head, moaning softly. After a minute he removed it with a watery slurp, then stood and kissed with such passion Mort wondered if he had to faint before he’d be allowed to take a breath.

Finally Massimo pulled back and looked down at Mort with a wicked grin. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that to a man for as long as I can remember. It’s been hell in dressing rooms, watching Dad in the shower, guys at the beach… whenever I see a bulge. But I wasn’t gay so I couldn't do it. And then Calypso came along and I thought she proved I wasn’t gay because I fancied her like nobodies business. And then she turned out to be a man! So now I know I’m just like my father and I’m glad and happy and... thank you!’

‘The pleasure is also mine,’ Mort whispered. ‘But we have to be quiet. Your mother will be here any minute.’

‘Yeah, but my cock’s harder than ever. I don’t think it’s ever going to go down again. What’ll I tell Mum? That I’ve got a boyfriend? I think she would kill me, especially when she finds out Dad’s got the hots for Hale. I thought it was strange that I fell for you. Normally I run a mile if a girl comes near me. Ha! And tomorrow it’ll be all over the school that I’ve been screwing the sexy Calypso. Is that your real name? And are you really twenty-six?’

‘No, it’s Mort, I’m sixteen, and after your mother’s had her heart attack, or whatever, I’d love to see your bedroom.’

‘A year younger than me! You seem so sophisticated.’

‘I am.’ Mort grinned.

‘As soon as Mum’s out of the way you’re taking that frock off.’

‘I intend to. I hate pretending to be a female. Shhh... I think I hear her coming.’

‘What’ll I do with this erection?’

‘The same as you did with the girls—it’s natural, and if she doesn’t like it she doesn’t have to look.’

They wandered into the hall just as Caterina bustled in.

‘Oh, dear Calypso, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, I... Massimo! What are you doing here, and you’ve got a…’ she stared at her son’s engorged phallus. ‘Cover it!’

‘Why? I thought you might need help in case Calypso asks technical questions.’ He grinned disarmingly. ‘She doesn’t mind that my cock’s so stiff, so why should you? It feels great.’

‘Really! Massimo. Where is your modesty?’

‘Oh, I know it isn’t the most perfect one in the world, but I like it. Come on, let’s go.’ He raced off up the stairs.

‘But I was going to do the ground floor first.’ Ah, such an impetuous boy. But tell me, dear. Is it normal for a son to show his mother his erection?’

‘Catty, it is a sign of trust if a teenager allows his mother to see his genitals. You should be proud. He is very well endowed! Many men would be jealous, and many women would desire him.’

‘Really? How interesting. He is an engaging boy. People like him. And I suppose I am proud of him, and I do try to live up to the precepts of our religion—to have Unbound Tolerance and Indefinite Ethicality and not be too old fashioned, fuddy duddy and censorious. But it is difficult to jettison the things we were taught at Sunday school, don’t you think?’

‘I never went to Sunday school, but I know what you mean, and I think you’re doing an excellent job.’

‘Do you dear? That is such a relief.’ She stopped at the top of the stairs. Massimo was nowhere to be seen. The light was flattering and she ran a soft little hand down Mortaumal’s cheek. ‘You are a very beautiful girl, Calypso. I find myself very drawn to you, I…’ without warning she dragged Mort’s head to hers and planted a sloppy lipsticked kiss on the identical spot where her son had been grazing only minutes before.

She stood back, took a handkerchief from her bosom and gently wiped Mort’s lips. ‘Oh dear. You don’t wear lipstick, do you? Next time I’ll wipe mine off first. I must say you kiss beautifully. Aggie Leanbottom’s teeth stick out, so it’s never as pleasant as one hopes with her. You’re even better than Marjory, and everyone says she’s a wonderful kisser.’

Mort was debating whether to laugh or chunder. ‘You kiss a lot of women do you, Catty?’

‘Oh yes, dear. We have a Women's Division of Fumutie, and meet in the basement sauna lounge twice a week for prayer meetings. We practice massaging and sensitising. You know the sort of thing. Breaking down the barriers between women; regaining the intimacy lost now we all live in nuclear families. You must join us one day.’

‘Thank you, I’ll bring my swimming costume.’

‘Oh we don’t wear clothes, that would inhibit the intimacy. No. We become real children of nature.’

‘Then why did you object to the men being naked?’

‘I don’t really; I just wanted to wipe the supercilious grin off Midas’s face. But you must admit, men are not beautiful like women. Their bits stick out so rudely and get stiff, like Massimo’s; nothing like the smooth simplicity of the female form. Don’t you agree?’

‘Not altogether…’

Caterina moved closer and Mort backed up the stairs, saved from another lunge from his pursuer by Massimo’s reappearance.

‘Mum. There’s a funny noise coming from Dad’s room. He might be having a heart attack. Come on!’ He raced away.

Caterina looked at Mort and crossed her fingers. It wasn’t clear whether in hope that Midas was in trouble, or that he wasn’t. Whatever it was, impatience put wings on her feet and she almost ran along the passageway to the door from which groans were issuing.

Massimo was standing outside literally wringing his hands, apparently in fear.

‘Midas? I’m coming in!’ Caterina threw open the door and stood on the threshold for several seconds catching her breath, arms akimbo staring at the double bed on which two well formed naked men were locked in sexual embrace; arms, legs, bodies, tongues intertwined in sensuous writhing, oblivious to all around them.

Caterina slapped a hairy buttock with all her force and shouted, ‘Midas! What are you doing?’

Her husband rolled over, exposing an organ as fine as his son’s and grinned dopily up at his wife. ‘Catty?’ His face cleared and his eyes focussed. ‘How lucky you’re here. You can be the first to know. Hale and I have decided to get married. As soon as we’ve both had our second orgasm I’ll come down and tell everyone that he’s moving in with me as my huswife. Tell me you’re happy for me.’

‘You can’t get married, you’ve got me.’

‘But I don’t fuck you, so I need another spouse. Don’t worry. I’ll explain it all to your friends.’ He lifted himself onto his elbow, leaned over to kiss Hale and said sweetly. ‘I have to leave you for a minute, gorgeous, because the old baggage wants me to tell everyone we’re getting married, then I’ll come back, OK?’

‘You will not tell everyone anything!’ shrieked Caterina in the high-pitched squeal of a woman who always gets her way. ‘You can’t do this to me! I’ll be the laughing stock of the church.’

‘I can and will unless you sign the divorce papers.’

‘Oh, you are so horrible. You want to take half of my lovely house and money, leaving me a pauper. It is so unfair.’

‘What are you talking about you stupid bitch? I don’t want anything from you—certainly not this awful house. And I don’t need your money. All I want is to go and live in a small house in town where I’m near the church and shops and life.’

‘You really don’t want half my money and the house?’

‘No! I mean yes. I mean I don’t want them.’

‘Then why didn’t you say so! I’d have signed the silly form ages ago if I’d realised. I’ve been wanting to get rid of you for years but didn’t know how to do it. Quick, where are the papers?’

‘It’s always the same,’ Hale said with a sigh. ‘Communication. If humans would only learn how to communicate, most of their problems would disappear.

The papers were produced, Caterina signed, Hale and Mort witnessed the signatures, Hale keeping his finger over Mort’s name until the paper was folded away, and Caterina smiled.

‘Ah! Such a relief.’ She turned to Massimo. ‘Where do you want to live, darling?’

‘With Dad.’

‘What a sensible decision.’

‘Calypso wants to see the dressing room, Mum,’ Massimo said dragging Mort through a doorway.

Caterina’s smile continued to grow. ‘When will you be going, Midas? Are you going to strike while the iron’s hot and all that stuff?’

‘Yes, we’re going tomorrow. I bought a house months ago in anticipation of this happy day.’

‘That was clever of you. But the church will continue as before?’

‘Exactly the same only better probably. People were beginning to gossip about us still being married after eighteen years. We’re supposed to be a modern church for the twenty-first century, so as more than half of all marriages end in divorce after seven years, it behoves us to mend our ways.’ He turned to Hale. ‘Don’t worry, your concerts will progress exactly as planned—and you will get paid.’

‘Of course he’ll get paid! What on earth are you talking about, Midas?’

‘Nothing, dear. Well, I think it’s time our guests went home. Would you be so good as to see to it?’

‘Of course, darling.’ Wearing a grin fit to split her face, Caterina went to tell her girlfriends the good news—she was free to turn the house and grounds into a quasi nunnery for all the single, and wannabe single females of their enlightened church. And she would be Mother Superior: or Lover Superior. She would personally teach every novice a dozen ways to reach orgasm. The possibilities were legion.

 

‘How can I thank you both?’ Midas asked, looking round. ‘Where are Massimo and Calypso Don’t tell me they’re snogging in my dressing room.’

‘OK, I won’t.’

At that moment two naked young men entered, one pale, tall, lean and sexily hairy, the other slim, tough, yellowish brown and smooth with shoulder length thick black hair.

‘What the… who are... No! Don’t tell me... You’re…’

‘Calypso,’ Mort growled in as deep a voice as he could manage. ‘Fuck it’s bloody hard work being a female. Never again! And that’s a promise. By the way, Midas, You’ll be pleased to know your son’s a brilliant kisser and can spray his sperm about a metre. You’ll have to wash that blue shirt, I’m afraid.’

Midas laughed till the tears ran, thanked his guests again and invited them to visit his new bachelor pad when picking up the concert details and going over final details.

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Communication...says it all!😆

 

Interesting that as far as i recall Massimo is the first well hung "good guy" in this story!

 

I liked the way you described the women's reaction to the mens nudity; shock, then amusement, then recognition and partial aceptance. Of course this progress towards enlightenment was then shot down by that stupid girl who said how she couldn't wait to get to school and tell everyone about the cocks and balls she'd seen and how big Massimo is. If the boys did the reverse (run commentary on the girls less than perfect features) they would be upbraided for being sexist pigs. So sadly the exercise and lesson in toleration didnt actually sink in very far. Despresssingly like "real life".

 

Thanks. As ever a great read.

 

 

Thanks. All the good guys are well [as in appropriately] hung, Canuk. Massimo - as the name suggests, is the first massively hung young man. Like the Ancient Greeks, I find average sized genitals more aesthetically pleasing than the equine variety. :rolleyes: Yes, real life is seldom an unadulterated delight. That's the function of fiction I reckon. 

Edited by Rigby Taylor
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