Sex in the Sky

How was I ever going to tell my parents that I was gay? This was a confrontation that I had been dreading for a long time, but how long could I put it off? If I didn’t tell them, they were going to find out anyway for sure. I was a complete slut. I mean, really indiscreet. One time I got the mailman up to my bedroom, and he was just in the middle of fucking my ass, when I heard the front door open. I knew it was my father. He was due home about then, and I had played it too close. But I just couldn’t pass up the mailman. He was so cute and humpy, and I didn’t even know he was available, but when the mail came through the slot in the front door, I opened the door, wearing only my red thong, and he was still kneeling there about to stuff TV Guide through the slot, and there I was standing there with my packed thong practically in front of his face.

I saw him look at my tight package, and even though he was kneeling in his baggy trousers, I saw the prickhead pressure pushing out his uniform. I raised my foot and kind of rubbed it against him. He smiled. I smiled. I invited him in for a cup of coffee. He accepted. I put the mail on the hall table. We skipped the cup of coffee. We went up to my bedroom and immediately started to go at it. I helped him out of his uniform. He really was cute and humpy, and muscular and hung. I went down on him immediately. I licked his cock. I sucked his succulent balls into my mouth. He pressed his feet down on the mattress to raise the angle of his ass. He separated his two bouncy fleshglobes and displayed the clean, pink. pursed lips between them. I went for it. He manually held my face within his deep cleft, and the insides of his buttocks rubbed against my wet nose. Finally he flipped me over on my belly, spit into his hand, rubbed it on his thick dick and speared me. I loved it. It was just after that, that I heard the front door open, and knew it was my father. I tried to move out from under him.

“It’s my father,” I hissed. “Get up.”

He just kept fucking. He wasn’t going to be cheated out of an anal cumshot.

“Take it out, for god’s sake. It’s my father.”

This only seemed to make him more excited, and he started pounding like a jackhammer. I was sweating in fear under his insistent hips, but I was also loving it. Slap. Slap. Slap. My father certainly would hear that. Slap. Slap. Slap. His hips against my ass. Slap. Slap. Slap. Suddenly he tensed, and he swelled, and he hosed his spooge into me. He was finished. Thank goodness. I made him get dressed immediately, and I opened my bedroom door to let him out, just as my father passed my door. Unfortunately, I was only wearing my red thong, so it looked a bit peculiar.

“Hello,” said my father. “What’s the mailman doing in your room?”

“I had to sign for something,” I explained. I ran to my desk and picked up a cheap ballpoint. “Here. You forgot your pen,” I said to the mailman. He took the pen from me and smiled.

“Thank you,” he said to me, in a meaningful way, but my father thought he was thanking me for returning the pen. Great mailman. He understood perfectly. I hoped to have to sign for many more special deliveries from him.

So you see, I’m in a little bit of a mess. I have to get all this out into the open. Stop the hiding and the lying. But how? My father hates queers. He was always making nasty comments about them—-about us. And my mother was a Sunday school teacher. She was sure we were sullying the divine plan of the Supreme Creator. Actually, I felt, I was carrying out the divine plan of my Supreme Creator, and was behaving just as he had created me to behave. But let’s save the theosophical arguments for later.

When my mother got home, she cooked dinner and set the dining room table for three. Family dinner was a regular and important occasion in our house. Mother put fresh white candles in the valuable silver candlesticks that had come down from my great great grandmother. One day she would pass them on to my wife, she thought. And then they would go to one of my children. And then one of my grandchildren, etc. etc. etc….. How could I tell her that the candlesticks stopped here?

My mother went into the kitchen through the swinging door. She came out with two plates on the first trip, setting them down before my father and before me. And then she returned through the swinging door, before it had even stopped swinging. She returned with her own plate.

She took her seat, and the three of us sat poised over our evening meal.

“We thank you, O lord, for the food we are about to receive,” said my father, hands clasped in front of his face.

“Amen,” said my mother, hands clasped.

They both began to eat in the flickering candlelight.

“Delicious, darling,” complimented my father.

“Thank you, dear,” said my mother. She turned to me. I was sitting there with the fork in my hand. I had not begun to eat. I had been thinking of the mailman. I had been fondly remembering the mailman’s big cock. “What’s the matter, Jeffrey?” my mother asked me. “Is anything wrong with the food?”

“Oh, sorry, mom. I was just dreaming, I guess.” I rolled my fork in the spaghetti with meat sauce and lifted it to my mouth. “MMMM. Very good,” I said.

“Thank you, dear,” she said.

“He’s got his mind on Marcy. That’s all,” said my father.

“I guess so,” I said.

“I knew it,” said my father happily and triumphantly.

Marcy was the daughter of their friends from church, Harry and Wilma. She was a sophomore at Clearwater College, as was I. I took Marcy to the movies. I took Marcy to proms and dances and parties. We were a regular couple. Marcy and Jeffrey. Jeffrey and Marcy. Everyone knew. Fortunately I was protected, in that Clearwater College was a religious institution, and premarital sex was strictly forbidden. And I was obviously too young to get married. After graduation I would be expected to pop the question, but for now everything was A-OK. Everybody believed that I was a clean-cut, fine, respectable, young American boy, going out with a respectable, pure virgin, from a good pious family. And that I was dutifully stifling my natural? urges and behaving myself until after the wedding.

I took another mouthful of spaghetti. This was getting worrisome. I couldn’t keep up this charade forever.

I had heard about a swinging club down by the water in Foggsville, which was about an hour’s drive from Clearwater, and I was dying to go there. I was thinking of taking the car after dinner and making the trip. But what could I tell my parents? They would want to know where I was going. Fuck. I just didn’t have any privacy at all. And certainly no right to it, living in my parents’ house.

I was thinking about saying I was going over to Marcy’s, but suppose they called and I wasn’t there? Then I got this terrific idea. Something they would really approve of.

“Dad, I hear there’s this great Bible class over in Foggsville on Tuesday nights. I was thinking I might go.”

“I hadn’t heard about that,” he answered.

“Oh, yeah. Everybody’s talking about it.”

“Funny. You would think I would have heard about it.” He was puzzled. He knew about all those things. “Where is it?”

“I forget exactly. But everybody in Foggsville knows about it. I’ll just ask someone when I get there.”

“All right,” he agreed. “But be careful driving,” he admonished. “I’m glad to see you taking such an interest in the Good Book.”

“I’ve always been interested in the good book,” I answered. And that was the truth. When I was a little kid, I had been in a bookstore with my mother and had seen this illustrated edition of the Good Book. And on one page there was this drawing of Cain standing above Abel who was lying on the ground. And they were both buck-naked. And Abel had this absolutely great muscular rounded butt. I was getting excited just looking at the Bible illustration. But I was afraid to ask my mother to buy the book for me. I was afraid she would guess why I wanted it so badly, and…..

“I will,” I said. “I’ll drive carefully.” I took a deep sigh of relief. He had bought it. I had his permission to drive to Foggsville. This way if I got a flat, or my radiator overheated on the road, there wouldn’t be any questions, like “Why were you going to Foggsville???” etc. etc.

I called Marcy before I left, and we discussed the papers we had to write for Intelligent Design class next week. She was going to write about how God had created Adam, and Eve, and the talkative snake in the Garden of Eden, and I was going to write about how God had created the monkeys and situated them far away in Africa. I told her I was driving to Foggsville to the alleged Bible class, and she immediately wanted to go with me. But I told her, I had been having some trouble with the car lately, and if anything happened and I got stuck, I didn’t want to be responsible for her missing classes the next day. She was disappointed, but she agreed that she didn’t want to take the chance of missing any classes. After all, she had the highest grade average of all the girls in the school, but Penelope Stanlope was getting very, very close, and she didn’t want to give Penelope the opportunity to top her impressive scholastic record.

When I got to Foggsville, I drove down along the water, and had no trouble finding the forbidden venue, The Grizzly Bear. A new club where, it was rumored, tough guys went to find queers. It wasn’t all that clear what they did with the queers once they found them. There been incidents of violence in the streets of Foggsville. Anonymous attacks. And it was also rumored that those attacked had been in The Grizzly Bear. And as for me, I had just driven over sixty miles just to go to The Grizzly Bear. Was it possible that someone had told me that they were giving Bible class in The Grizzly Bear tonight?

I parked in the lot and entered. I saw a lot of grizzly bears. Tough-looking, bearded, trashy looking guys. Some slim, mean-looking and tattooed, with cigarettes dangling from their angry lips. Others were massive and had beer-bellies. They were also tattooed, and had cigarettes dangling from their lips. Some had big black cigars. Those with cigars didn’t dangle them. They held them between a thumb and a finger and chewed on the end of the soggy stogie.

I could see that all the guys at the pool table were eyeing my ass, as I walked over to the bar and sat on a stool. I chose the third stool from the back, mainly because on the second stool from the back was a guy who knocked my socks off.

It wasn’t that he was handsome or anything. He was tall, skinny, with straight straggly blonde hair, a little on the long side. He was wearing some kind of a uniform. I wasn’t sure what it was. And he looked like trailer trash. If there’s anything that turns me on, it’s trailer trash. They’re so tough, so mean, so masculine, so dominant. The say opposites attract. Well I felt I was the exact opposite of this guy. If he had the peg, I had the hole—so to speak, that is.

I could imagine myself groveling on my knees, begging for kindness and pity, which he would withhold until I had completed the most debasing tasks. I had had no experience, up until now, with debasement. But I felt I was ready. I was anxious to be debased.

The bartender approached me and asked me what I wanted. I gave a quick look to my left, and ordered the same cheap brand of beer that my neighbor was drinking. He wasn’t paying any attention to me. He was just staring at the bottle, and every once in a while, he would raise it to his lips and take a swig.

He lit and cigarette and took a few puffs. Then he just let it dangle from his lips. That was so sexy. It was giving me a hard-on. Suddenly he spoke. In a hard southern twang, with bad grammar. I went out of my mind with desire. I just lost it. I wanted his cock.

“Pass me that there ashtray,” he ordered, pointing to the ashtray a little down the bar from me, on the side where no one was sitting. I noticed that he had a chipped tooth in the front. I thought that was sexy too.

“Sure,” I said. I reached out and grabbed the ashtray, and just scraped it down the bar until it sat in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. What could I say? How could I get a conversation going? But he helped me out. He spoke first.

“I ain’t seen you around here before,” he observed.

“No. I live over in Clearwater,” I said. “I was passing by here (lie) and it looked like a nice place, so I thought I’d stop in for a drink.”

He nodded. “You work over in Clearwater?” he asked me.

“No. I go to school. I’m a sophomore at Clearwater College,” I said.

He nodded again. “That’s that churchy college, right?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“You live in the dormitory with all them other college boys?” he asked me.

I thought that was a strange question for him to ask, but I answered him anyway.

“No. I live with my parents.” I thought I would venture a question of my own.

“Do you live here in Foggsville?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I got me a nice little trailer right down the highway in the trailer park.”

So he was trailer trash. I had been right when I sized him up, and sat down next to him. I felt a little rush of blood course through my penis. My throat suddenly felt a little dry, so I lifted my beer bottle and took a swig. My heart was pounding. He was so sexy. So lanky. So bony. So mean looking. And he couldn’t even speak proper English. This was like a dream come true. The mailman had been great… but so clean cut and all American. This was what I wanted. Dangerous, threatening sex. Another rush of blood surged through me and my penis started to stand tall. I told him my name was Jeffrey Parsons, And he said his was Bo Sneedle. We shook hands.

“I never was inside a trailer,” I told him. I wasn’t lying. “Is it nice?”

“Yeah. It’s real nice. I got me a bed, and I got me a bathroom. And I got me a little kitchen. I got this little refrigerator, and I got 5 six packs of beer in it right now.”

I looked at his belly. With all that beer drinking, he should be fat. But he was skinny. Maybe because he was young. But I could see that his belly was slightly soft. In another ten years, he’d probably have a little pot. But right now, he was looking damn good.

“That sounds like fun,” I said. “Living in a trailer. All by yourself. No parents. I bet that would be a lot of fun.”

“Oh, it is,” he assured me. “I have myself a good time, all right.”

“How do you do that?” I asked innocently.

“Now never you mind. At least I don’t got no parents I got to report to.”

“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “That’s the pits. I wish I had myself a trailer.”

“You ain’t never been in no trailer,” he said. “You might not even like it.”

“I know I would,” I said. “If I saw the inside of a trailer, I know I’d love it.”

I tried to keep the eagerness out of my voice. I had to squint a little, because the smoke from his dangling cigarette was drifting right into my left eye and making it tear. He took another puff. A long ash from the end of the cigarette, dropped off and fell onto the bar, missing the ashtray completely.

“You wanna see the inside of a trailer?” he asked me, a note of vicious shrewdness in his voice?”

“Sure,” I said.

“You want me to show you the inside of my trailer?”

“That would be great,” I said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“And if I show you the inside of my trailer, what’re you gonna do fer me?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “What would you want me for do?”

“Oh, maybe nothin’,” he answered. “I was jes askin’.”

We finished our beers, and we went out into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle. I got into my car and followed him down the highway to the trailer park. I parked outside the park, while he idled the motor of his cycle. Then he told me to hop aboard behind him, and we zoomed through the rows of trailers, to the one that was his. He chained his bike to a steel bar attached to his trailer, and he took out a key and opened the front door. It didn’t have any steps in front, so I had to raise my left foot and step way, way up. Like a double step. He followed me in and closed the door. No. He was locking the door. I hoped he wasn’t a homicidal maniac.

He had a convertible sofa in the back of the trailer, which was at the moment in converted mode. It was dressed as an unmade bed. He motioned for me to sit on the crushed sheets at the bottom of the bed. He was not going to fold it up. That was okay with me. But just sitting there at the edge wasn’t very comfortable.

He went to the icebox and got two beers. He opened them with his teeth. Aha. The chipped tooth. He handed me one of the bottles and took a swig from the other. He was sort of standing in front of me, while I was sitting. If his fly had been open, I would have gotten poked in the eye. That bulge looked like it could do some damage. I was not going to make the first move, though. That was for sure.

“Is that a uniform you’re wearing?” I asked him.

“Yep,” he said, and took another swig.

“What do you do?” I asked. I didn’t recognize the uniform at all.

“I’m a guard over to the state prison,” he said, and took another swallow.

“Really?” He was a prison guard. Obviously at Foggsville State Prison. I had never had a prison guard. This was kind of exciting. Like getting a policeman or a fireman, but even better. I could picture him walking down the row of cells, letting his club vibrate against all the bars.

“That sounds exciting,” I told him. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I like it real well.”

“Do you ever have to get rough with the prisoners?” I could easily imagine him smacking them around. He looked like he would get a real kick out of that.

“No. Me and them get along real well,” he told me. “Real well. I sort of help a few of them out, and they watch my back.” He emptied his beer bottle and went to the refrigerator for another. He grabbed the cap with his molars, and pulled. The beer foamed out of the open bottle. He licked the bottle, and siphoned off the top two ounces. I could hear them gurgle down his throat.

“How do you help them out?” I asked.

“Well, when the new guys come in, I kind of arrange it that my guys can meet the new guys late at night sometimes.”

“Really? Meet them? What happens?”

“I guess you can imagine what happens, they bein’ in prison and all.”

I didn’t dare imagine. My heart was beating wildly. Dare I pursue this? “I’m not exactly sure what you’re saying,” I told him. “Could you be a little more specific?”

“I let my guys get it on with the new guys.”

“You do not!” I shouted. He probably guessed that I was queer, and he was playing mind games with me.

“I got it right here in this trailer on videotape. ”

“You tape them?”

“Sure. I got a collection. They’re real hot tapes.”

“God. I’d love to see one of those tapes,” I told him.

“I’ll put one on,” he said. I could hardly believe my luck.

“If you want, you can sit back in the bed and get a little more comfortable,” he offered.

“Okay,” I said gratefully. My back was starting to hurt. I took off my shoes, and moved back on the bed, sitting up and resting on a pillow against the headboard. He turned on the television, and put a tape in the video recorder. It started to play. He moved back on the bed, and lounged next to me.

He began to give me a running narration of the scene that was unfolding on the television screen. It showed this young, clean-cut looking guy sitting on his cot with wide eyes. Looking very, very frightened.

“The kid’s name is Luke,” Explained Bo. “They gave him five years for beating up and robbing some old faggots. Unfortunately, one of the old faggots was the district attorney’s father.

The camera stayed on Luke, but now another figure (so far, I could only see his back. His massive back, in a tight black sleeveless shirt) was entering through the cell door. He approached the bed.

He pulled away from me and stood up, looking for a moment at his little pussy boy, covered in sweat and crusted with jizz, before walking out of the room. He returned a moment later with a bowl and placed it on the ground beneath my ass hanging off the bed. A drop of Master’s cum leaked out of my pussy and fell into the bowl beneath me. My Master was making sure that none of his cum would be wasted, that I would be able to taste all of his juices flowing from my pussy. Master smiled for the first time and walked out of the bedroom, leaving me tied to the bed and completely in his control. I couldn’t wait to find out what else Master would do to me, and I couldn’t wait for the moment when his hard cock would fill my mouth and stretch my throat. My eyes closed and I collapsed into sleep, still leaking cum from my pussy and still tied spread eagle on what was now my master’s bed.

“More to come…”

“Fuck I”m going to come soon,” I heard Dean complain and immediately I stopped. It still wasn”t the right time.

I sat back and pulled Gould onto my lap once more. My rigid cock slipped up between his cheeks and I felt his small balls rest on my larger, hairier ones. Dean grabbed for his suddenly free cock but I ordered him to leave it alone. He looked at me with is face all taught with desperation.

“In a minute,” I said and wrapped my arms around the lad.

Gould was panting and I could feel his heart racing as I held him to me.

“Are you o.k.?” I asked.

“Yes sir,” he gasped back, short of breath.

“You sure?”

“Uh hu. I mean yes sir.”

“What”s your first name Gould?”

“Alexander,” he said and sounded confused. “Alex.”

“O.k. Alex. You can call me Stuart now, but only in here ok?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alex, I”m going to fuck you now. Have you ever had another boy”s dick in your arse?”

“No sir… No Stuart,” he said and his nervousness was back and very apparent.

“If you want me to stop, just say so, o.k.? And I will.”

“O.k.” he said quickly.

I let him go and told him to stand up as I sat back in my chair. Dean was still glaring at me, desperate to shoot his load and I almost smiled at his predicament. But my mind was on the feel of the cute boy”s virgin arse that was soon to be mine.

“Let me see you Alex,” I said and the boy turned to face me.

I saw his cock for the first time. Long, this, the foreskin pulled back to reveal an angry red head. Beneath it his balls were small and hung in a slightly wrinkled sack. Around his smooth penis was a short, almost imperceptible smattering of hair. I brought him to stand between my legs, lent forward and pursed my lips. Keeping them as tightly together as I could, I slowly drew him into my mouth. All the way until my forehead was pressed against his hairless belly. He tasted salty, almost bitter and had about him the musty smell of youth. My hands felt for his arse cheeks, I pulled them apart and brushed a finger over his hole.

And then there was the feel of rough stubble against my hands. Dean was behind the lad, feasting on his innocent arse, tongue fucking him again as I gave the lad his first proper blow job. Gould held onto my head and I could hear him start his moaning again. He kept running his hands across my cheeks as if he”d never felt unshaved flesh before, his fingers kept touching his cock and my lips as if he couldn”t believe that I was sucking him. I played with his little balls, tickling them as I used them to draw his cock into my mouth and he murmured “yes” and “I like that sir,” as I did so.

And then I heard him grunt out “oh no,” and I knew he was about to come. Immediately I pushed him off me and held him still. He was panting desperately, sweat running down his chest. He tried to grip his twitching dick but I held his hands firmly against his side. Dean stood up too and left him alone. I saw Gould controlling himself, felt his arms tremble and heard his breathing regain a calmer rhythm. I watched his cock for ages, waiting while he recovered. He hadn”t come. I”d averted it just in time.

I let him go, lay back in my chair, gripped my cock with one hand and lubed it up with spit with the other. Gould looked at it and bit his lip.

“It won”t hurt for long,” I reassured him and he nodded his acquiescence.

Dean put his hands under the boy”s arms and with no effort lifted him from the ground. He placed him on my chair, one foot on either side of me, and supported him as Gould started to squat down. I guided my shaft with one hand until his legs prevented me from holding it. The lad gripped the side of the armchair and I gripped his waist. I felt Dean”s wide hands take my cock and I saw him kneel between my legs, guiding me towards the lad”s arsehole. I felt the tip of my penis touch the creased flesh, still slippery from the Gin and I felt the alcohol burn me delicately, heightening the sensation. Gould was looking at me, he looked even more nervous.

“Just relax Alex,” I reassured him and he flashed a thankful smile.

His cock had softened slightly so that it now fell forward, too long for the small balls that were tightening beneath it, out of proportion. The sight of its smoothness and the thought that this was a virgin fifth former really turned me on. And knowing that Dean was guiding my cock into him added to all that. I wanted to grab the boy and shove him onto me but I knew that that would be wrong for him. Instead I let him sink lower in his own time.

I felt heat around my glowing cock, I felt him open up as the first centimetre of my shaft penetrated him, and I saw his face tighten with pain. He stopped, held his breath, let it go slowly, beads of sweat gathering on his brow and running into his eyes. And hen he lowered a fraction more.

“I can”t do this. I”m sorry Stuart,” he said.

“That”s fine Alex, leave it.”

“No, it”s o.k. I want to,” he changed his mind. Took a deep breath and let himself go.

I felt his balls land on me, I felt my cock impale him and I felt his hole grab tight around my girth. He stifled a yell, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair. His head fell forward and his breathing started coming in short, sharp gasps. I lay there looking up at him until he opened his eyes. He forced a smile.

“I”m o.k.” he whispered.

“Just go slow,” Dean instructed, still kneeling between my legs. He was watching in close up as Gould lifted himself tentatively, paused and then slid himself down again.

This time the lad found it easier. And his long, flaccid cock flopped against my stomach. When he rose up again he left a patch of precum on me which glistened in the light from the fire. He started a slow rhythm, pushing himself up with his legs and his arms until the rim of my cock head started to stretch his sphincter, then he”d slide down again, letting me penetrate as far as he wanted before repeating the movement.

Once I knew that he was in control, had relaxed and was enjoying the new feeling, I relaxed too and began to notice what I felt: The heat from his arse, the smoothness of his thighs as I rested my hands on them, and something else. Dean”s tongue as he tried to push his face against my balls and lick them when Gould”s movement would allow. I reached for he boy”s cock, stroked it back to firmness, rubbed his own juice around the head with my thumbs. I played with his balls.

“Feel good Alex?”

“Oh yes sir,” the boy panted back. “Feels really good. It doesn”t hurt anymore.”

“You like to have an older boy”s cock in you?”

“I like it very much sir.” “What do you like about it most?” Dean had stood up and was now standing beside me, his cock still sticking straight out, swollen and ready.

“I like the feel of it,” Gould tried to say. “I like the way it stretches my arse. It makes my prick even harder, feeling Stuart”s prick inside me. I like to feel his hair against my arse. I like to see his face. I like to see that I”m making him happy.”

“I like to watch your smooth little cock,” Dean said as he stroked his own really slowly. “I like to watch my best friend burry his eighteen year old dick into a virgin.”

“It”s making my balls ache,” Gould said between gasps. “I can feel them getting tight. I like the way he”s wanking me.”

“I”m not touching you,” I said and the boy looked down. I”d stopped playing with his cock, it was fully hard again. “It feels like someone”s sucking on my cock as I”m sitting on his,” Gould said in wonder. “I think it”s going to make me spunk up soon.”

“Have you ever seen an older boy”s spunk?” Dean asked him.

“No sir, never. Only the boys in my dorm.”

“Are their cocks as big as ours?”

“No.”

“Do they let you suck them?”

“No.”

“Do they let you sit on their cocks?”

“No.”

“He”s getting close,” I said. I could feel his arse tighten and his breathing was getting faster.

“Let us see you come off,” Dean grabbed the lad”s arse with one hand, stroked it.

“Yes sir,” the boy gasped and tried to reach for his prick.

“Leave that, you won”t need to touch it,” Dean said and immediately the lad gripped the chair again.

“Fuck him Stu,” Dean was also panting. I could tell he was getting close. I decided it was time we all let go.

I took hold of Gould”s slim hips, gripped him tight and took over. Now I was lifting him and planting him, using his young fame to wank myself off into him. He reached out and grabbed Dean”s fat cock, started to pull on it, started to wank him while all the time his own little dick bounced around, slapping against me as I slammed him onto my shaft and then springing up in the air as I lifted him.

“I”m going to fill you with spunk Alex,” I said, my teeth gritted.

I slammed him down onto me, ground his little hips around, felt his smooth arse flatten against my hairy legs and shot my spunk up his arse.

“Oh yeah!” the lad called out. “Fuck me sir.”

I lifted him and slammed him again in time for another spurt, and then another.

“You”re getting fucked for the first time,” I heard myself say. “I”m filing you with my spunk and I”m fucking a virgin lad for the…”

“I”m coming,” the boy gasped. “Oh sir… oh yes… please…”

“Look at me,” Dean ordered. The boy had closed his eyes. He opened them now and they were clouded with confusion and wonder. “Look at me as I watch you come.”

Gould panted, gasped, let out a strangled moan and screwed up his face. I pushed him down onto my cock once and for all and twisted him. I kept pushing him down, kept him impaled on my painfully throbbing, spent cock as I watched his. It jerked. He yelled out. I slid him back and forth across my lap, forcing my cock as deep into him as it would go while it was still hard; giving his as much pleasure as I could. He let go of Dean”s cock and looked at me.

“Oh Jesus sir,” he said in disbelief and then looked down.

His young cock spewed out a stream of hot, white spunk that flew up and at me. I opened my mouth and caught the first of it right on my tongue.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I heard Dean grunt. I reached out my hand and grabbed my mate”s balls. I pulled on them. “That”s it Stuart.”

“Sir…”

The lad”s cock erupted again, another stream of spunk splattered onto my chest. His balls were practically indivisible now, up into him and working hard. His arse tightened around my cock. He fell forward as a third spurt of juice shot from his little cock and landed hot on my stomach. Dean grabbed his head, turned it to face him.

“Open,” he gasped and the boy obeyed.

Dean held his head with one hand and pulled on his cock with the other. He came hard and loads, dumping it all into the boy”s open mouth.

“Taste it,” I encouraged. “Taste what an older boy”s spunk is like.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Dean wanked harder and came again; another wad of spunk hit the boy”s face. The boy moaned with pleasure and licked where he could reach.

Dean couldn”t stand it any more. He pushed the boys open, cum filed mouth over the end of his cock and spurted again, this time into his throat.

“Swallow me,” he grunted. “Swallow my come.” He thrust his hips, held the lad”s face against his fury bush and made the boy gag as he unloaded everything from his manly ball sack into the virgin mouth.

“Jesus he”s a good Fag,” Dean whispered as the boy licked the last of the cum from Dean”s red cock head. “We must keep this one.”

“Thank you sir,” Gould said as he was finally allowed to leave Dean”s cock alone.

The boy lay down, stretched across me, with his head against my chest. My cock slipped from his wet arse and flopped exhausted against my leg. Between us I could feel his spunk cold and sticky now, like it was gluing us together. Dean had already started looking around for another drink. He poked the fire and went to crash in his armchair.

I felt Alex”s breathing calm down, his heart rate slowed. His fingers brushed against the side of my face and he looked up at me.

Without saying anything else he kissed me once, lay his head down again and promptly fell asleep.

Bobby couldn’t argue with that so they went in. He literally inhaled the first screwdriver the guy made for him. Booze wasn’t something he was used to, just a beer or two when he could get it. But this drink tasted great and he really needed it. Anything that would help him calm down was OK. Bobby felt very small and lost caught in the raging river of his hormonal emotions. A little booze wouldn’t hurt now.

The guy made him a second quick drink and waited a few minutes hoping the effects of the double vodkas would relax the boy. He was so fucking hot for this little cherry he seriously thought about raping him if he copped out now. He sat down next to Bobby without touching him and opened a porno magazine of hot gay scenes. Naturally they showed black and white men and it didn’t take long for Bobby’s cock to start reacting again. While Bobby flipped through the pages the stranger loaded the VCR with a tape of “OREO BOYS”.

The sight of a huge coal black cock being fed into another white boy’s mouth was the spark Bobby needed to rekindle the fire in his body. He didn’t make a sound when the man got him up from the sofa and slowly undressed him. When he was totally naked the erection he sported proved he wanted to continue this game. The man circled him like a hungry shark eyeing bait. Finally he stopped admiring Bobby and stood still in the middle of the room, motioning Bobby to walk to him.

“Come hug me baby, just like in the movie,” he said, and Bobby eagerly went to him.

The sensations of his naked flesh against the man’s clothes were like a narcotic to Bobby, making him pant and moan like mad. The man lifted Bobby’s chin and pressed his lips to the boy’s mouth. Bobby couldn’t understand the jolts of sexual excitement coursing through his body. He sucked on the thick tongue and felt saliva pouring down his young throat. He felt warm hands massaging his tight nipples and separating his ass-cheeks to touch and probe his puckered virgin ass. Finally the man pushed him down to his knees.

“Do it just like in the movie, Baby. Open my pants and suck my cock just like the boy did in the movie. Just like the boy on TV. I need you to suck my cock. You need to suck my cock. You WANT to suck my cock,” he rapped hypnotically.

Don’t worry. Nobody will ever know you did it.”

“There you go, take it,” he said as Bobby finally lowered his head and opened his lips to capture the big purple cock head. He started working his mouth up and down; keeping his lips tight against the rock hard dick. Just like the boy in the movie.

“Oh yea, you’re such a good little cocksucker. You were made to nurse at the end of a black mans dick; to provide pleasure, to get your pleasure from it. You’ll taste my seed and you’ll grow to love it. You’ll need the seed. You’ll want the seed; it’s like mother’s milk.” He chanted as Bobby tried to capture as much of the hard black meat as he could take.

The man gently grasped Bobby’s head and guided him, teaching him how to pleasure a big cock. He kept nodding reassuringly as he forced Bobby to take him deeper, ever deeper.

“Relax and breathe through your nose, you want to take it all,” the man said. “You want to go black balls deep don’t you?”

“Relax,” he said again when Bobby’s gag reflex kicked in. Bobby blinked away a tear and tried to breathe through his nose. He kept his lips tight now. He just needed to concentrate now. The man was using his head as a handle to fuck his face.

“Go easy boy,” he said. “This is your first time. I’ll teach you to suck cock. Make love to it with your mouth. I might not be able to hold back very long little man. I planned to take your cherry right away but I think I’ll have to cum in your mouth first. Oh yes, that’s what you need. Take my hot cum boy! Swallow it all down. You’ll always remember your first load; your first load of hot black cum for your hot white mouth. You’ll love it sweet thing.”

“That great, you’re a quick learner. Some boys never learn how to take a dick like this. You’re a born cocksucker.”

“That’s it baby,” he kept up the rap. “Isn’t it just the hottest thing you ever dreamed of? Oh baby, if only you knew how sexy you look down there with my cock in your sweet mouth. You’ve got a sweet mouth baby. Just like the boy in the movie! Swallow my hot juices boy; let my cockjuice run down into your belly. I promised you’d love it didn’t I. I knew you’d love sucking my cock, just like the boy in the movie”.

Bobby was going crazy listening to the erotic talk and feeling his young mouth packed full of black cock. His mind was a mass of conflicts and confusion but the constant demands of his sexual desires created such a powerful need he wouldn’t have stopped sucking that man’s cock if a gun was pressed to his head. He was so eager to taste new flesh he would continually choke himself when he tried to get more than he could handle.

Bobby was also shocked at the way he responded to having a cock in his mouth. He felt re-born the instant he wrapped his lips around the man’s warm leaking dick and nursed on it like a hungry calf. He wished he could have it completely in his throat but kept gagging himself when he tried to do just that. When the man tipped his head back and looked down at him he felt like cheering because he had found himself; found himself on his knees with a throbbing Negro cock pouring precum down his throat. He wanted the man to look at him giving his first blow-job; look I’m sucking a black man’s cock!

Then the huge dick seemed to come alive. It felt larger, hotter and pulsed like it had a heartbeat. The man drove it deep into Bobby’s mouth as it started to explode. The sperm that he felt pumping into the back of his throat was better than any drink in the world and he swallowed it like a starving man. There was a lot of it, more than he had expected. So much it started to leak out of the corners of his mouth. The taste was strong and very ‘male’; he liked it. The texture was pure slime; he liked that too.

The man was just standing there with his dick soaking in Bobby’s mouth now. Then he slowly pulled it out; even though Bobby’s lips struggled to keep the hard black prize.

“You’re not done little man. There’s still a little more milk for you,” the man reassured him.

“Just open your mouth and hold out your tongue. This milk is good to the last drop,” he said running his fingers down the shaft as though he were forcing toothpaste from a tube.

As each drop of the thick white milk dripped from the end of the spent dick Bobby reached up to grab it with his tongue. The man was amazed. This boy was concentrating on the end of his cock like this would be his last meal. If only he knew. He just wanted to be sure Bobby experienced the complete feeling of being a cocksucker; his cocksucker! Draining every last drop of sperm was to be Bobby’s duty so he might as well learn right away.

The man eventually moved to the sofa and relaxed with his legs in front of him. Bobby sat on the floor and put his head on the man’s thigh so he could look at the dark skinned cock he had just worshipped. He couldn’t stop staring or working his tongue inside his cheeks because the taste of cum remained strong and he loved the lingering sensation.

The man saw it was very late now and Bobby’s relatives would be wondering about him. Rather than take him home he lit a joint and shared it. The man knew that the dope would make the boy forget about the time and stay contented. He didn’t want the boy to get in trouble, but he wasn’t ready to let him go. He knew Bobby had no idea where he was so he’d keep him stoned, drunk and naked all night and worry about his family tomorrow. He was sure that Bobby wouldn’t have any trouble making up a story his Aunt and Uncle would believe. Especially if a hard black dick was the prize for success. The man casually removed his clothes and took Bobby into his bedroom where he had him suck his dick some more. When he got his erection he placed Bobby face down with his hips over some cushions and opened the jar of Vaseline he had purchased. When he pressed his slick finger against Bobby’s asshole he heard a sexy sigh and the ass rose up to him.

“I’m going to breed you now Bobby. Are you ready for my black cock in your tight cherry ass? Are you ready to be my little bitch boy?” he whispered to Bobby.

“Just like the white boy in the movie?” Bobby asked.