Cory-Bo-and-Doc-1 Cory, Bo, and Doc
by Ashley Hardric ©2005
ahardric@gmail.com
Disclaimers:
This is a work of fiction. That means it is not true. Didn’t happen. It’s a figment. No boys were involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were sacrificed. The author does not condone sex with boys; he just writes fantasies about it. Further, sex in reality requires caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs unless I write them in. Be safe and legal in the real world, and enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to do so legally.
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He laughed at the right times. That was my first clue. So many young college students think it is uncool to appreciate their ancient professor's jokes; it is refreshing when you find one who actually understands your dry humor.
My next clue was his eagerness to connect with me: he made a specific point to offer a face-to-face explanation of his recent absence -- most students don’t even bother --, and he showed obvious pleasure when I told him I was more concerned with his health than his missed classwork.
At that point, all I could do was notice, admire, and hope. He was so cute! But he gave me more a few days later, when I sat next to him at his computer station and he said “I think I’ve lost my file.” I reached over his lap for the mouse, and rather than moving away to give me room, he subtly leaned closer to me. I took the mouse from his hand, allowing my fingers to linger briefly on his. He left his hand in contact with mine for many seconds longer than necessary, and created some additional body contact by swiveling his chair so that his leg pressed against mine.
I did some computer magic for him and retrieved his “lost” file. He was delighted. I let my hand drop from the keyboard onto his thigh; he put his own on top and pressed lightly. I moved my hand up along his inner thigh, and he guided me with his toward the hardon that had become obvious under his running shorts. But sitting in the computer lab, we could do no more. I met his sparkling blue eyes with mine, and said, “Let’s do more with this after school.” He smiled,
“Yeah, let’s.” I had to move on to assist other students; Cory returned to his essay.
As the class departed, Cory delayed getting his books together until all the others had left. When the room was empty, we approached each other.
“So, maybe we should talk?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied. “Maybe more than talk.”
“I like the sound of that,” I said. “What kind of schedule do you have?”
“I’ve got a class now, and then lunch, and then another class this afternoon. I’m off Monday and Wednesday, and of course Friday.” he said. “What about you?”
“Almost the same as you,” I said. “How about lunch today? I’ve got Burger King coupons, if you have enough time to go.”
“Cool,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the stairs outside the Library after next class.”
My next class, which usually flew by, dragged eternally. And of course, there had to be after-class questions instead of everyone stampeding for the door. Finally I was free, and found Cory arriving at the same time. We headed for the parking lot. “I thought I’d never get out of there today!” I complained. “A couple of kids had to talk to me after class; I couldn’t get rid of them fast enough.”
“Must be in the air today,” he said. “My class ran overtime too.”
Lunch at Burger King was magical, as we ate and chatted and continued to find personality contact points and coincidences. We exchanged enough casual touches, eye contacts, and understanding smiles to communicate our mutual attraction to each other. We also ascertained that we were safe in the HIV department: Cory’s only sexual experience had been with a neighbor boy in tenth grade when they both were virgins, and I had had no contacts since my last blood test. We returned to campus, and started walking to the classroom buildings. I asked the question that I hoped I knew the answer to.
“You want to meet tomorrow?”
“I sure do,” he replied.
”I’ll pick you up at the main gate at 10:00.”
“Cool,” he said. And with that began the most exciting love affair of my life.
The parking lot was virtually empty the next morning when I arrived, there being relatively few students during Summer session. Cory was waiting, and before I’d fully stopped he was sitting next to me. I drove back out the driveway and turned onto Shelton St.
“Where should we go?” I asked.
“Let’s go out to the Canyons,” he said. “I know where some neat places are.”
“Don’t even think of making me climb around on cliffs,” I replied. “I don’t do heights.”
“No, no climbing. But some neat spots that are hidden; no one ever goes there. I found them kind of by accident when I was out bouldering.”
The Canyons -- more properly Boulder Valley Canyons-- are a small area of huge, rounded outcroppings that form rocky mini-mountains and valleys -- or canyons -- just out of town, next to the north section of the Arapaio reservation. They are quite spectacular -- a piece of rocky mountain minutes from civilization. We were there in ten minutes. I pulled onto the entry road.
“Turn left by that tree,” Cory directed. “Then drive as far as you can, and then we’ll park.” ‘As far as I could’ turned out to be only about a few hundred feet, when the boulders made the passage too narrow for my 4x4. We got out of the truck and stood in the Arizona sun for a few moments. I put my arm around Cory’s shoulders and he sort of melted into my body.
“We barely know each other,” I said, “but I feel like we’re somehow connected.”
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “It’s pretty wierd.” He turned to face me and put his arms loosely around my neck for a few moments. It was long enough to start my cock rising. “But I like it,” he added looking downward at my newly tented shorts. Then he let me go and took my hand with child-like enthusiasm. “Come on, I’ll show you something.”
He led me down the path, and after only a few yards, we seemed to be in total wilderness, completely alone in the wonderland of reddish rocks. The path led slightly downhill, and after a little while became a nearly dry stream bed. The rocks formed into walls, and the stream became the bottom of a small canyon. It took a turn, and then a second. Another smaller canyon connected with it, and we entered that. Although less than a few hundred yards from the car, we might as well have been in complete wilderness. I knew that if we followed the stream beds, they’d eventually bring us to Hudson Lake Park. But here, you could believe you were the only humans for miles around. Cory suddenly stopped. “I found this place,” he said, “and I don’t think anyone else knows about it now.” He was standing in front of a juniper bush.
“Huh? You mean this is a secret bush?” I asked.
“No, behind it. Follow me.” He pulled some branches back and slid behind the bush. I followed. Suddenly he disappeared. I took another step and saw why. Hidden by the bush was a perfectly camoflaged “doorway” in the rock that led into an open space, totally enclosed except for the doorway. Rock walls surrounded an area perhaps 10 feet wide, and provided a slight overhang that partially hid the room from overhead view. An overgrown thicket at the top provided a leafy canopy that softly filtered the sunlight and hid the “cave” from the top. A trickle of water fed a shallow little pool, and soft grass covered the sandy soil.
“Look,” he said. “Is that cool, or what?!”
I followed his gaze, and suddenly a perfect petroglyph resolved itself on the canyon wall. The rock painting showed two warriors, spears and shields set aside, one on his knees in front of the other who sported a huge erection. “Do you think it’s authentic?” I asked.
“I dunno. If it’s a fake, it’s a good one. But I like the idea of gay Indians. And I’ve never seen anybody else down here.” He had turned back to face me, a hard-on of his own growing obvious behind his light shorts. It matched mine, which he touched lightly with his fingertips. I returned the favor, and opened his waistband to release his erection.
His shorts dropped down to his ankles and his penis slapped up against his belly, no underwear present to hold him down. It ended up straight and slightly angled from his body, a bit smaller than average but absolutely perfect for his body. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of the shorts. I took his tee shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, caressing his midriff and chest as I did so. He stood naked before me, and he was magnificent. Trim and slender, he was virtually hairless. A very modest pubic bush adorned his young cock; his cheeks (both sets) were smooth as were his legs. There was a softness about him, but it was not from fat, for he was in excellent shape. I took his penis in my hand and pulled him to me, rubbing some glistening precum around as I did so. I embraced him and explored his beauty with my hands, giving both of us equal pleasure. Then his hands went to my shirt buttons, and he relieved me of that garment, touching me with exquisite gentleness as his did so. My shorts came down as easily as his did, and it seemed we were again of one mind, since I had not bothered with underwear either. Unfettered, my own erection emerged to mirror his.
Four hands roamed over two bodies, each seeking to out-pleasure the others. In synch with each other, our hands caressed each other’s hard members, and each stimulated the other higher and higher. Suddenly, Cory could hold back no longer, and shot his youthful load, stream after stream of creamy cum into my hand and onto my abdomen. He sort of collapsed against me in a half hug, half lean, as he panted for breath. Then he said “Now let’s play Indian!” and dropped to his knees in front of me.
He took my penis between both his hands, holding it prayerfully for a few moments before bringing it to his lips. He kissed it gently, and then turned his head to run his lips down its entire length, to my balls, kissing and licking every square centimeter, every nerve ending, and driving me mad with pleasure. I could not keep my hands off his beautiful body, and I caressed his upper head as he caressed my lower one. He continued stimulating and pleasuring, roaming all over from tip to base to balls and back. Finally he sensed that I was ready, and turned his total attention to a full mouth fuck. In perfect rhythm with me, he rode me as I thrust again and again into his perfect mouth, pulling back and driving forward in exact time with me. With an involuntary cry, my load erupted and I pulled out of his mouth, squirting hot cum over his lips and chin and cheeks. I sank down to the ground, panting, and pulled his dripping face to me. We kissed and caressed and held each other, the result of my orgasm dripping down onto both our chests. I wiped up a glob and held it to his lips; he eagerly sucked my finger clean. We kissed again and shared that most private of tastes.
We lay back on the soft grass, both spent and satisfied, both delighting in the pleasure of the other, and both content to rest in the other’s embrace. Perhaps we slept for awhile. After a time, I became aware of pleasure in my prick again, and discovered Cory’s hand had coaxed another hard-on out of my middle aged body. Exploring with my own hand, I discovered that he needed no coaxing from me. We kissed again. And again, and with no words needed, we began to move down each other’s bodies, kissing and touching and licking and stimulating as we went, finally ending up faces to crotches.
Like sychonized dancers, we attended to each other’s pleasure. First the gentle tongue touches and kisses, and then the licking up and down, and then the mouth massage. We seemed to know just what to do next, and we did the exact thing to the other as was done to us. As our desire became pure ecstacy, we changed to full face fucking, thrusting grunting panting fucking, frenzied and urgent and fantastic. I rode his cock and he rode mine, sucking all the while, and then with final cries of climax we both erupted simultaneously, flooding our partner’s mouth, gulping and swallowing on one end as we pumped on the other. The spasms subsided, and we sucked the last drops of our passion from each other as we both began to soften. I turned myself around to face his face and took him in my arms. We kissed lightly, and settled back onto the soft grass. We dozed again in the noonday heat, spent and satisfied and safe in each other’s arms.
This time I awoke first, and just admired his beauty for awhile before I awoke him. His face was perfect, with just the slightest beard beginning to grow. It was still soft, not stubbly yet, and his youthful features seemed chiseled from finest stone. His arms and chest were lean yet strong, the muscles of an active teen, not a bodybuilder. His body hair was limited to a small, soft pubic bush, and his legs too carried only short downy fuzz. His penis lay flaccid against his upper thigh, and I touched it gently. It was soft as velvet, and as I stroked it with my finger tips I marvelled in its feel. And as I stroked it, it began to enlarge and straighten, and shortly it was pointing toward his belly yet again. He woke up.
“That feels nice,” he said sleepily. “Do it some more.”
I was happy to oblige him, and I continued to touch him, slowly and gently now, the passion and intensity of our earlier sex having mellowed and slowed somewhat. My fingertips followed ridges of hard muscle covered by soft skin, and explored curves that became hollows, and sinews that led to bones. I too was hard again, half because he felt so good, and half because he had begun stroking me again. We continued our manual explorations, becoming more and more aroused. And then without warning, something wet plopped onto Cory, and then onto me. My first thought was “bird.”
“What the hell?” Cory said. “Looks like cum.” He dipped a finger in it and sniffed. “Smells like cum. Wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me.” He looked up, and pointed. “It was him.”
There, standing on the overhanging rock directly above us, stood a boy. His still-hard cock, with a glistening string of cum dripping from it, stuck out past a narrow loin cloth that was the only garment he wore.
“You dropped something,” Cory said to him, getting to his feet and pulling me up as well. “You better come down here and get it.” He smiled as he said it, his tone inviting.
The boy said nothing, but moved a few feet along the ledge. He found hand- and toe-holds that were previously invisible, and in seconds had descended the wall. He stood before us as he had stood above us moments before. His cock was half hard, and the strip of loin cloth did little to contain his adolescent balls. His skin was a dark golden tan and his black hair straight. He wore leather mocassins.
“You should knock before you drop in on folks, or drip in as the case may be,” Cory said. “But since you’re here, you might as well join the fun. That OK with you, Doc?” he asked me.
“Two’s company, three’s a party,” I said. “Why not? But you need to get out of those clothes and into something more comfortable.” I touched the leather strip that held the loin cloth up, and followed it around his narrow waist until I found the knot. That untied, the cloth strip dropped to the ground, and the young brave stood before us, naked, hard, and proud.
He spoke for the first time. “I thought only gay Indians came here. Anglos don’t come this far back. They can’t get their RV’s close enough.” His voice held a hint of contempt, but he looked a little scared at the same time.
“Cory found it,” I told him. “He’s into rock climbing. Otherwise, I’d be in one of those RV’s myself.”
“I kinda think gay guys are a universal tribe, actually,” Cory remarked. “I mean, we pretty much gotta stick together. There aren’t that many of us, and we’re all we’ve got.” He put a friendly arm around the boy’s shoulders, and gently pulled him close. “So, little brother, do you want to stay and play with us?”
The boy’s cock was providing a visual answer, and I pulled both of them into a three-way embrace.
“Everyone calls me ‘Doc,’ I said. “Do you have a name?”
“I have four. Rafael William Beauregard Stillwater. I go by Bo.”
“OK, Bo. Welcome. Um, not to bring up embarrassing things, but, ah, are you ditching school, or what?”
“I’m home-schooling,” he answered, “and I’m already finished with high school work. My mom wants me to start taking college classes next semester. I quit Middle School in sixth grade two years ago. It was so boring, and I was already figuring out that I was gay, and that was definitely not cool. All those idiotic boys wanting to beat you up if you didn’t act like a clone of everybody else. I don’t like to fight, but I can if I have to. It’s so stupid though. School’s stupid too. I got in trouble with the principal because I refused to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance and I knew I had the right to do that and he couldn’t take that away. I’m smarter than all of the kids, and most of the teachers too. And I figured out real fast that the situation was going to get worse, not better. So as long as I keep up with some studying, Mom mostly lets me do whatever I want. She’s hardly ever home. Either working or out sleeping with her cowboy of the month. I come out here to find my Indian identity. And jerk off.”
His torrent of words came to an end and he looked up at us with a mixture of defiance and anger and supplication. My experience with “seat-of-the-pants psychology” told me that this youngster was in serious need of acceptance. I exchanged a glance with Cory, and we gave him another hug.
“Bo,” I said, “I was a junior high teacher for a lot of years, and you know what? You’re right. A lot of school is stupid, a lot of the teachers can’t even spell ‘rocket scientist,’ and most junior high boys think ‘fight makes right.’ I’m glad you got out of all that. Maybe you’ll be in my class next term. I teach at the college. Cory’s in my Comp class now.”
“Cool!” he said. “I’m writing a novel now, and I’ve done a bunch of stories. I wrote a gay Indian porno story -- I got the idea from that petroglyph -- and posted it on the Internet. I got some nice email from that.”
“Cool!” said Cory. “Can I read it? You can send it to me when you get home.”
“No problem,” Bo replied. “Maybe I’ll write a new one too. I think I have some new ideas...”
“Maybe we can help you get those ideas clarified,” I told him, holding him at arm’s length so I could have a good look at his youthful body. He still had the skinny shape of a pre-adolescent boy, muscles on the cusp of growth but not quite there yet, nicely shaped shoulders narrowing to a slender waist and bony hips. A narrow band of black hairs was sprouting at the base of his penis, and no other body or facial hair had appeared yet. Given his genetic heritage, very little more would likely grow. His penis, however, was definitely having a growth spurt, and likewise his young balls. His slender dick’s four and a half inches nearly equalled Cory’s in length, although he was at least a full head shorter than the older boy. I took those precious inches in my hand and squeezed gently. Instantly I felt resistance increase, and as I fingered his young maleness, it sprang up, immediately erect with the unique quickness possessed by teenage boys. While I had been inspecting his front side, Cory had been working on the back, running his hands up and across and down and between. He was giving special attention to Bo’s ass, and Bo clearly liked it.
“We need some lube,” Cory said. “He’s too dry.”
“Hang on a minute,” Bo said. “I’ll be right back.” Before either of us could object, he had scaled the wall, finding the foot- and hand-holds as easily as going up stairs. In seconds he was back with a small pack on his back. “Berries and fruit are OK once in awhile,” he told us. “But usually I bring lunch.” He dug in the pack and pulled out a small squeeze bottle of mayonaise, which he handed to Cory.
Meanwhile, I’d sat down on the rock, and now pulled Bo down next to me, on his knees. He needed little urging before taking my cock into his mouth. Cory followed behind him, his own erection well greased now, and Bo’s hole likewise getting a lube job. Bo shifted his position a bit and thrust his ass out to Cory. Kneeling behind and straddling him, Cory pressed his prick against the firm entrance to Bo’s butt, and then entered paradise alley. Bo moaned a little with pleasure, and redoubled his efforts on my cock, licking and sucking my entire length as if by sheer vacuum he could extract my cum from my balls. His beautiful head bobbed up and down above my crotch, cradled in my hands. Cory rode Bo’s ass, one slippery hand squeezing the boy’s cock, the other around his waist. The combination was too much for Bo to keep inside his young body, and with an involuntary cry he shot his wad. The warm cum squirting through Cory’s hand pushed him over the edge then, and with a thrust that almost bowled Bo over, filled the younger boy with his load. Seeing Cory climax was the last push for me too, and as Cory finished pumping into Bo from his end, I started filling him up from mine. My cum spurted into the boy’s mouth, faster than he could swallow, and some dribbled from his lips. Spent, the three of us sort of sagged into a tangled pile. Still inside Bo, Cory and he settled onto the grass, spoonwise, Cory’s arms around the younger boy. I slid down to join them, sandwiching Bo between me and Cory, holding and touching both of them. A tear escaped Bo’s eye and glistened on his tanned face. I gently wiped it away.
“Did we hurt you?” I asked, concerned.
He drew a ragged breath. “No,” he replied in a shaky voice. “I’m so happy. I didn’t know I could ever feel this good. The sex was so nice, and this is even better right now.” Cory tightened his arms around Bo, and Bo reached around me to return my embrace. He was holding me as if he’d never let go. “No one has ever touched me like you two do,” he went on, the tears flowing freely now. The boys I’ve found to fool around with just wanted to shoot their load, they didn’t care about me at all. Some of them wanted to hurt me. I’ve never known my dad. And my mom just wants me out of her hair. I think I’ve been alone my whole life.”
I stroked his head and kissed him. “You’re not alone anymore. You’ve found us, and we’ve found you, and we’re going to stick together from now on.”
Cory wiped away a tear of his own. “That sounds like something I would say, or at least would’ve wanted to say,” he said. “My dad died before I remember and I just fight with my mom all the time and I always wished for a little brother and now I’ve found the missing pieces of my life. I hope this isn’t just a beautiful dream.”
“If it is, then we’re all having the same one,” I told him. “So let’s keep on dreaming.” And so we lay together under the filtered sun on the grassy floor of the tiny canyon, content and fulfilled, until basic bodily urges reasserted themselves.