DYLAN!
CHAPTER FIVE
I'm standing naked beside the Dicker families' inground pool with Robby and his fifteen-year-old brother, Dodger. Robby mutters, "Here I go," he pulls off his T-shirt and, stepping out of his sandals, takes four steps toward the pool and dove in without hardly a splash. I looked at Dodger, who had a slight grin of friendliness on his cute face as he was absently pulling on his five-inch dick. I stupidly watched him do that for a few seconds until Dodger said, "Here, I'll help. You've never worn a racing speedo before, have you?"
I shook my head, and he took the Speedo from my hand, mumbling, "Speedos are intentionally very tight so they won't create any drag during a race. This one is almost too small for me, so seeing how you fit into it will be very interesting. I'll bet you'll like how it feels on your cock and balls." Holding the leg opening wide with his fingers, kneeling at my feet, he encouraged me, "Step into it, Dylan. Put your hands on my shoulder, balancing yourself."
I stepped into the one leg and then the other, and Dodger stood pulling the speedo up my legs. At my crotch, he held my penis against my belly and said, "Go ahead, Dylan, pull the Speedo the rest of the way while I hold your dick flat. It'll be more comfortable if your dick is sideways like this." It took some muscle to pull up the Speedo as my cock started firming up. Dodger groped my cock, muttering, "There, that's not too bad, huh?" and he put the fingers of one hand inside the waistband to adjust my partial boner a little more to the side, asking, "Feel okay, Dylan?" I muttered, "Uh-huh."
His finger pushing my semi-boner felt smooth, and I glanced at his hand and noticed he was a fingernail biter. Every fingernail was bitten down to the cuticle, and every fingertip was red and sore looking; just the soft finger pads touched my penis. I gently pulled his fingers out of the Speedo and held his hand up to look at it. Dodger let me hold his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You bite your nails?" I asked, like an idiot.
"How'd you guess?" he asked, grinning at me. I grinned back, and all of a sudden realized the ludicrous situation of him standing in front of me naked and me holding his hand. Dropping his hand, I said, "Just a wild guess. I used to do that, too. Um, are you going to get your swimsuit?"
Grinning from ear to ear, he asked, "Am I making you uncomfortable? If so, I'm sorry. I should join a nudist colony because I like being naked," then he jogged to the deck's steps, and up he went... me staring at him.
He has the most perfect hairless ass I've ever seen on anyone. Perfect half-melon buttocks, sticking up a bit and firm looking. They didn't jiggle at all as he jogged up the steps. I groped myself in the tiny Speedo and turned to look at the pool. It was three minutes since Robby had done his
perfect dive. He's swimming laps as effortlessly as Dodger swam them. Then, turning over to float on his back, he said, "Come on in, Dylan." I did a clumsy cannonball, which drenched Robby and got him laughing. The two Dickers brothers are the best-natured boys I've ever met.
If I let myself think about Dodger holding my dick, I'd get a severe hardon, so I purposely kept up a conversation with Robby about the autographs of the Red Sox, and asking if he ever got to Fenway Park, and blah, blah, blah. As I've said before, Robby is easy to converse with after you get to know him a little, and he's not as shy. I swam over to the side of the pool and had my elbows up on the edge behind me, with my feet floating out in front of me, and ran out of things to say. Robby dives underwater and swims the pool length to come up between my legs, laughing. It startled me so much that Robby had to hold me back from falling into him. In the process, there was some crotch rubbing which is all I needed to get me springing the rest of the boner that started with Dodger playing with my dick.
For a moment, I wondered if Robby grabbed my crotch on purpose and then discounted that possibility when he sincerely apologized for getting
rough. His light blond hair looked darker, soaking wet and plastered against his head. It made him look even more identical to Dodger, who had crewcut brown hair. I wanted to put my arm around Robby's neck and hug and kiss him, but I didn't. Then, a slight ripple in the water was
Dodger diving in the pool. He reminded me of a slick seal I'd seen at the aquarium. It didn't seem to be doing much body movement, yet it streaked through the water.
Dodger, seemingly without effort, skimmed through the water like a seal, and I don't know why that surprised me, as everything about Robby and Dodger was pretty much unbelievable. It was fun to look at them, though. Always a grin or a friendly smile on their beautiful faces.
After a few minutes of showing off his water skills, Dodger swam over to me with a big grin and deliberately goosed me with both hands while asking, "How's the Speedo feel?" Well, at that moment, it felt like I was going to cum in it, but I didn't say that. I said, "It's wicked small and tight, giving me a hard-on." Dodger said, "Oh, is that what that is? I thought you had a Tootie Roll bar in there." I was like, "Wha...?" He swam underwater back and forth the length of the pool until I was gasping for breath just watching him. Doesn't he need to breathe?
Later on, we sat in deck chairs around the pool, and I told Dodger how I had stopped biting my nails. The nail-biting started when I was eleven and lasted through age thirteen. I'd bite my nails just as drastically as Dodger. Finally, that habit was driving me nuts, so I put this bitter substance Mom got me on my fingernails every single day and asked Chubby to yell at me when he saw me biting despite the bitter stuff. It took three or four miserable months to break the habit.
Robby said, "That's a good way to break the habit." I asked Dodger, "So, will you try it?" He said, "No, I don't want to quit biting my nails." Robby said, "Yeah, he enjoys it, so keep your home remedies to yourself, okay?" They both had straight faces, and I was like... what? Then they grinned, and it struck me as so funny that I laughed so hard I almost fell out of the chair.
The back door opened, and I saw a man and woman on the deck. They looked too young to be the boys' parents, but Dodger called, "Hi, parental units!" The father asked, "How are you boys on this beautiful day?" Coming down the steps, I could see they were both very good-looking. I supposed they'd need to be to produce these two gorgeous boys.
The mom had brown hair and the dad had light blond hair cut close like Dodgers. Robby, Dodger, and the parents gave each other quick hugs and little kisses. Robby introduced me, and when he explained that I was the one who got him on the school newspaper, his parents made the biggest deal out of it. After some small talk, they invited me to stay for dinner, which I declined, explaining that Chubby and I always ate dinner together and the circumstances of our moms' worked nights and blah, blah, blah.
Mr. Dickers told Robby to give me a ride home in the pickup truck when we finished our swim, and then he said, Hey, Rob will be working for our family business this summer, and we needed another lawn boy. Would you be interested in the job?" I nodded, "Yes, very much," and he explained, "It's cutting grass and yard work, paying ten dollars an hour." Robby said, "Oh, yes, Dylan, it'd be fun working out in the fresh air all day." Dodger mumbled, "In ninety-degree heat with broiling sun."
Mrs. Dickers said, "You boys might enjoy yourselves working together while you earn some decent money." They didn't need to talk me into it; I was thrilled to have a steady job this summer and be working with Robby. Are you kidding? Count me in! I didn't let on that I was super happy, though. Trying to be cool, I nodded, "Thank you so much. It sounds great. Yes, I'd like to work for you this summer." Mrs. Dickers said, "There's paperwork for tax purposes, Dylan, but we'll take care of that your first day. Welcome! We're all set now. That's wonderful."
Robby dropped me off at my house before six o'clock, so Chubby wasn't home yet. After thanking Robby, I sat on the outside steps and smoked a cigarette, trying to figure everything out. I've run into some good fortune here! The only negative is Dodger won't be working with us. Everything else is fantastic. Robby makes my dick tingle, and seeing him every day, all day, while getting paid ten dollars an hour is beyond awesome! Four hundred dollars a week to work side-by-side with Robby Dickers! Get serious!
We'd have our driver's licenses with Chubby's money and mine in July. We could chip in for a used car, too. Goddamn, this is great! I was surprised that Robby seemed excited about us becoming friends. He's a popular kid, one of the high school's 'in-crowds' that I do not belong to. He's a star on the baseball team and has some other role I can't remember. So, why is he so anxious for us to be buddies? Now that I think about it, he accepted the sports writer's position without asking any questions about what he'd be doing.
Also, more importantly, what's with all the balls grabbing and naked stuff and grabbing my penis and all of the double entendre and being nude in the backyard? What's with all that? Omigod, if the Dickers brothers are gay, it's going to be like I died and went to heaven. The thought of doing sexy stuff with them has me groping myself right here on the front steps of my house. I hear, "Do you have a touch of jock itch, Dylan, or are you playing with yourself again?"
It was Chubby sneaking up on me. Grinning, I exaggeratedly grope my balls, mumbling, "Dude, do you want to help me with this?" Chubby looks around and says, "Dammit, Dylan. I told you about saying stuff like that. If the wrong people hear that, they might think we're queer, for fuck sake! We hook up together all the time, and they might get the wrong fucking idea. Ya know what I mean?"
We'd had this discussion several times, and usually, I kid him even more by saying something that's crazy, like Kiss me, Chubby. He gets madder and madder, and we end up wrestling, which I love to do with him. Today, I mumble, "Yeah, yeah, I know Chubby. Sorry. Come on inside; I've got good news to tell you.
Nodding, he follows me inside, asking, "What's the good news?" Oh, man, Chubby looked so hot with his baseball cap on backward and his sunburned nose, and that freaking cute chin. I love me some Jeffrey Romaro!
I told him about my job, and Chubby was immediately into his mathematics mode and calculated how much money we'd have combined by the end of July. "More than we need for the insurance, Dylan! Oh fuck, yeah! We're going to have our own car for our senior year of high school! That fucking Robby Dickers is coming through for us. Cutting grass, fuck! I'd rather do that than wash windows."
He was anxious for me to ask Mr. and Mrs. Dickers if they could use another boy this summer. I can't tell you how excited I was to get Chubby away from that pea-brained Ricky! Unfortunately, Mrs. Dickers said they were set for the summer. I'm not telling Chubby until I'm positive there isn't an opening.
After eating, we had the Red Sox on TV in the background as Chubby and I worked together to create this detailed poster that Chubby needed for tomorrow's Science class. It took us until bedtime, and we were both kind of cranky by the time it was finished. What a ginormous pain in the ass that was. Then, the next day, Wednesday, Robby had lunch with me, and it was like we were best friends already. Spending that afternoon at Robby's house turned out better than I could have hoped, except I learned there was no opening for the Dickers' business this summer unless someone dropped out. That's when Chubby would come in. So, there's some hope.
Thursday, after school, I was determined to do my four-mile run. It's a good thing Chubby, and I ran on Sunday, or it would have been four days between running, and you can lose your wind quickly, as Chubby was experiencing. This afternoon, my running was going smoothly for the first two miles, and as I came up to the rest area cut off, I gave a thought to taking that trail, but in the end, I ran on by. Then, a few hundred yards past the cut-off, I stopped and turned around. If the Marine is there, I have some things to get off my chest."
Carl educated me about the dominant/submissive sex, which I believe is what my Marine is into, so I know where he's coming from now, and I know what to expect and how I should react. Even so, my heart did start pumping hard as I slowed to a walk near the rest area. I took a deep breath and walked around the last group of trees, and he was there at our pee tree, taking a big piss. He must have heard me rustling past the trees, but he wouldn't look up. I waited a few seconds more and then asked, "What's your name?"
I was taking charge today, Goddammit! Without looking up, he said, "Tom Delcarmen, what's yours?" I mumbled, "Dylan Newman, and I know
where you work, so no use lying about your name because I can check up on it." He shook his long cock got off the last pee drops, and put it away. Then, in an unconcerned, bored voice, he said, "Come over here and look at my dog tags if you don't believe me."
I was feeling braver by the second, so I walked right up to him and then waited, a tiny bit nervous being this close, while he took his time pulling out two metal dog tags on a chain around his neck. I brazenly picked them up and held them in front of my eyes. My head was close to Tom's, and his scent was one hundred percent sexy. Each dog tag had his last name, first name, social security number, blood type, and religion. Delcarmen, Thomas, 196 54 0605, TYPE A, Catholic: was stamped on both tags.
Nodding slightly, I mumbled, "Jeez, these are the first dog tags I've ever seen." He ignored my stupid comment and asked, "What else would you like to know?" I asked, "How old are you?" He said, "I was twenty-one last month." I couldn't think of anything else to ask him. He was making me feel intimidated again, and I couldn't think straight with him looking at me so steadily. All I could think of was how handsome and macho he was and how he was so relaxed, oozing confidence.
I let go of his dog tags and stepped back. Inhaling deeply, I looked into his cloudy blue eyes and then at his wicked short Marine haircut that, for some reason, made my dick twitch. After fifteen seconds, he asked, "Do you want to suck my cock again this afternoon?" He asked me that in a regular voice, like you'd ask if someone would like a piece of chewing gum. I didn't reply to that. Instead, I muttered, "I learned all about that dominant act you're using with me, and it's not right because it doesn't give me any say in the sexy things we did."
Tom said, "If I'm doing anything you don't like, just say the word no, and I'll stop, and then we won't ever do anything together again." He waited, and again, I couldn't get past his staring eyes, so he added, "I'd never hurt you in any case. Certain things might be unpleasant at first, but once you get used to them, they'll give you sexual pleasure."
He was so nice today, talking regularly, which wasn't especially dominant; not at all dominant, as a matter of fact. After waiting for me to say something, he shrugged and mumbled, "It doesn't matter. But so you know, if you decide you want to suck my cock or do something sexual with me, I'll always be in charge, so you need to get used to that."
I still couldn't make up my mind what to do. He said, "Well, I'm outta here. See you later, maybe," he sounded impatient and irritated, acting more like he was the first two times I was with him, so I wanted to say: No, not today, Tom. Meet me here on Friday, and maybe I'll do something with you. Maybe!
That's what I wanted to say, but what I meekly said, sounding timid, is, "Yes, I want to do something sexual with you. What do you want me to do?" He said, "Well, start with pulling your pants down, turn around, and then pee." The last few times I ran, it was without a jockstrap. It was more pleasant running without one. So, it was just my running shorts I pulled down and caught under my balls, and then I turned to the tree, feeling like a little kid again, doing everything I was told. Standing behind me, he put his arm under my chin and tightened it on my neck, really tight at first, like he was pissed at me, and I immediately was up tight against him, my back molded into his chest, standing very straight and stiff.
Maybe I was trying to get him to say the word 'good' like he'd said when I'd done something correctly. His hairy arm held my chin uncomfortably high, causing me to go up on my toes, and his hand rubbed under my T-shirt. He lightly rubbed all over my chest and belly, down to the top of my penis. His arm hair tickled my jaw, and when I tried to move my head a little, his arm muscles bulged, preventing me. He stopped feeling my body to move me to his side, bending me over to pull my shorts down in the back. I started to get a slight stiffy expecting him to do the finger fucking again. That is so hot, his finger rubbing my prostate button. Carl explained to me how it was connected to climaxing. So, that's cool......
Then the world exploded on me, and in my head was a red flash of pain. I was dancing from toe-to-toe, squealing, and heard a loud slap like a delayed reaction of breaking the sound barrier when you hear the explosion a few seconds later. My explosion was a burning pain on my buttocks, then another explosion, and I blubbered, "Ouch, ouch, OW! OW!" and then more "SMACK! SMACK! sounds. He was spanking me, and the right side of my ass was a wasteland of burning pain. Tears were embarrassingly rolling down my face, and mucus was oozing from my nose. After the ten or so explosions, the Marine wrapped me up roughly in his arms, then said, "Stop it! That's over for now, but stop that blubbering, or I'll spank you some more. Stop it right now!".
Incredibly, I began to feel like he was looking out for me now. He didn't want me doing anything that could cause more spanking. That was the first time in my life anyone spanked my bare ass. Mom never did corporal punishment. When she wanted to punish me for bad behavior, she'd take away privileges, like no more watching TV, I wasn't allowed to play with Chubby, or no going on my computer. Plus, the lectures, oh my God, a spanking might have been easier to take than the lectures.
Trying to please him, I docilely snuggled against him the way I did with Carl, showing I was cooperating as the pain subsided to a dull burn. In his hypnotic voice, he asked, "Do you know why I had to punish you?" In a questioning manner, I said, "Was it because I disrespected you? He said, "Yes, that's it, but do you know how you disrespected me?"
I guessed it was me asking his name and then not believing him until he showed me his dog tags, then I guessed it was me asking his age or not
standing up straight or talking to him like a smart ass. None of those things was correct, and he said he was proud of me for insisting on knowing those few things about him, and he was happy with my posture, too. None of that was that's why he spanked me.
So, I was still mystified until, just like that, it was crystal clear to me. I said, "Oh yeah, I know. It was because I didn't do my shaved pubes the way you wanted it done." He explained that he'd only given me one instruction, and I couldn't be bothered to take care of that one thing plus the pubic hair had grown in some and should have been shaved again.
I thought it was unfair of the Marine because I shaved my pubes with Chubby and forgot that little patch at the top, so I didn't leave it. He's being too picky!
And I was thinking about Mom's lectures as Tom began lecturing me, quietly saying that if I thought it was okay to ignore the only task he'd asked me to do, what did that say about how much respect I had for him? Hmm, he must be some psychology expert or something because he knows how to manipulate my thinking. He has me feeling guilty about doing a half-ass job with the pubes and deserved being punished. That's stupid, though. I thought it was clever of me to get Chubby involved, so I forgot the nob of short pubes at the top of my dick.
Tom asked, "Shall we start over?" I meekly said, "Sure, thanks," and he moved me back to my usual position, my back against his chest and his hairy arm under my chin. I immediately started getting a boner. What the fuck?
He took hold of my slightly firm dick with his thumb and index finger and told me to pee--a weak spurt at first, then a regular stream of pee, but not for long. I didn't have to go much because I hadn't been drinking water along the trail today. When I was done, he left my dick hanging out and told me he wouldn't be sucking me off because of my scratchy pubic stubble. He would give me a break, though, and allow me to suck his cock, and help me get off. I mumbled, "Thank you, Tom," and then I was mad at myself because what am I thanking him for?
Tom was right back to his all-business-tough-Marine persona, saying, "Here, suck on my finger to get it slippery with spit. I'm going to finger your asshole while you jerk yourself off." I sucked on his middle finger, and he started stroking my cock using the same two fingers he'd used to
hold my dick when I peed. I was a little hard; he took his finger from my mouth and pushed it way up my ass until his knuckles were pressed against my buttocks. I groaned because, at first, that hurt, but not for long. It quickly began to feel good as Tom knew what he was doing, and
soon, I had my six-inch metal pipe sticking straight out of my five-o'clock shadow pubic patch. Tom said, "Go ahead and jerk yourself off,"
The feeling in my rectum was so excellent it quickly got me squirming and moaning, the spanking already forgotten. I stroked the foreskin up and over the swollen head of my cock, and then down, and then back over, and it felt so good. Tom was fingering my prostate now, and I was arching my back, moaning, " Ahhh. Ohh," and stroking my boner faster, going up on my toes again; my back arched, and my crotch pushed out hard as I stroked, stroke, stroked my flagpole-boner. "Ohhh, Tom, I'm cuming!" and a long string of cum burned out the pee slit of my cock, then a smaller one, and "Ahhh!"
With a hot red face and short, fast breaths bursting out between my lips, there was a pounding in my head and a pounding heart in my chest. With Tom involved, it had all felt so much better than me jerking myself off alone. Still lazily pulling on my semi-limp dick, I leaned back against the Marine, my head back on his shoulder. Tom's finger up my ass felt different now as he began pulling up on my anus, "Okay, Dylan, get over here now." Snapping out of my revelry, I walked to the bench on my tiptoes. Tom, using that finger up my ass to pull up on my anus, guiding me, pushing and pulling my hole this way and that. "Come on, move it."
I held on to the arm he had around my belly to keep from falling on my face. At the bench, he pulled his finger out, and I got on my knees in my regular position with my back pressed against the edge of the bench seat. "You'll need to clean this first," and he pushed the finger he'd had up
my ass against my lips. What could I do but open and suck on that disgusting finger? The acrid, horrid taste amazingly went away within ten seconds; then, I sucked on the finger for another minute after the taste disappeared before Tom pulled it out, wiped it on my T-shirt, and said, "No deep throating today. I want you to suck me off the way you normally suck your buddies off."
Tom, the Marine, of course, stood up straight as it was a natural way for him to stand. Taking his limp dick in my fist, I stroked it and then began licking the head as if it were an ice cream cone. That's one of the things Carl insisted I do when sucking cock. I'd start my licking about three inches below the head and then up to and over the head, making sure to try and get the tip of my tongue in the pee slit as my tongue passes by it.
After a few of those laps, Tom brought his hands around from behind his back, held onto my head, and played with my short hair, mumbling, "It feels okay so far."
With that strong endorsement, I increased my licking, now starting close to the bottom of his cock and all the way up to the pee slit, then doing it quickly, over and over. He grunted once and went, "Woooo," softly, and when his cock was as hard as a steel pole, I began licking from under his balls as this was what Carl always liked the best. Under and over the nut sac quickly several times, and then I'd suck one nut at a time and tongue it for all I was worth. After a few minutes, I heard Tom say, "Jesus!" and he started squirming. Carl would be proud of me because now I had Tom hot, and the head of his cock had a big drip of precum right at the slit. Pushing his left nut out of my mouth with my tongue, I sucked the head of his boner into my mouth and lapped at that swollen red head like a cat licking up a bowl of milk.
Tom was making humming sounds, holding onto my shoulders as sensations were off the chart coming off his sensitized hard penis. I like
sucking young guys' cocks, so I found myself with a hard cock, too. I'd started jerking myself off about the time I was sucking on his nuts. Tom was putting out a lot of precum by now, and he goes, "Grrrrrrrr, ahhh," and then, even though he said he wouldn't, he deep-throated me once, twice, three times, and then shoots a long creamy load of cum into my mouth. I was swallowing it really well until the second mouthful, and I started to cough, and then, like last time, I sucked cum up my sinuses, and it sprayed out both nostrils; then I desperately tried to get air in through my nose, but it was still clogged with creamy Marine cum.
It was quite uncomfortable for me the next minute or two. I'd been just on the verge of a second climax when the cum went up my nose, and by the time I could swallow normally and breathe again, the hope for a second climax had passed. Still, it was a hot time; Tom grumbled, "That wasn't bad." He helped me up and let me use his little towel to blow my nose in. Then, he tossed the towel into the same wire basket where he'd thrown the last one. He said, "I can't promise to be here every other day anymore. My assignment hours are changing, so you'll need to wait for me about this time every day if you want to hook up with me."
Standing now, I nod, and he adds, "If I don't show by three fifteen, I'm probably not going to make it. I'll try to be here Friday, and if I am, I'll show you how good it feels to be rimmed, so keep your asshole extra clean every day. Also, think about me fucking you, which is going to happen soon. Are you on board with all this?" I nodded, trying to follow what he was saying. He runs his fingers through my short hair and says, "Stand up straight, jeez!" I do that, and he says, " I can see you're a boy who needs discipline and hot sex. Some like it... you NEED it."
I stood close before him, straining to stand tall, when he pulled my head over to his face and then mumbled, "Jesus, you smell better than my wife." He kissed the side of my head, then said, "I've gotta get out of here now. See you Friday, maybe. Wash yourself really well because I don't want to taste shit in your ass crack," and with that delightful thought he left me standing at attention, watching him jog away.
Pulling my pants up, I sat on the bench and immediately hopped right up because my right butt cheek was still very tender from the spanking. I mainly sat on my left side and thought about what had happened with my Marine, Tom Delcarmen. Friday, huh?
Sitting here on the park bench after that strange experience with the Marine, I'm trying to figure out how I let him get away with that hard spanking, and yet I was humble to him as if he did me a favor--spanking me. It's crazy how I let him get in my head like that. The thing is, though, what he does ends up being so fucking hot and sexy I have climaxes that blow my mind. I say that, but in retrospect, I hated the spanking and the deep-throating that caused his vast loads of cum to go up my nose. It's horrible while it's happening, but right now, I'm grabbing my junk and getting turned on thinking about it.
Sensing a headache building, I got up and started walking back toward the main trail. Who am I kidding, though? He's too intelligent for me, so I'll never figure him out. I made him give me his name, though; that's something. I keep coming back to this question: Did I enjoy myself today? Well, get serious; the spanking was a killer, but I know now how to avoid another spanking. I must keep my pubes shaved except for the nub at the top. That's Tom's signature thing that indicated I'm one of Tom's boys. Jesus!
And, oh yeah, I need to keep my asshole clean. That's my new assignment. I begin jogging but do it slowly in deference to my smacked ass. The crazy thing is I decided, overall, that I had enjoyed my, but why exactly? Do I need to talk with Carl again? It's like, I don't know if I can even admit to liking the Marine. I'm intrigued by him, and I'm probably going to see him again, but I'm not going to see him on a day-by-day basis from now on. Another bizarre incident like that spanking might be enough for me to say goodbye to this adventure.
Going slowly and picking up speed, I returned home in pretty good time. Both Moms were at Tris' place, so I joined them to say hi. The moms always make Chubby and me feel important, as if we're special somehow. We talked a bit, and then I dropped the latest news on them. "I've got a ten-dollar-an-hour summer job!" They were proud of me now, too. They were proud of Chubby getting a job, and now me. They wanted to hear about the details, and I told them, minus the naked Speedo part. Then they needed to prepare for work, so I went outside for a smoke. When they left for work, I did that bath routine again. It was quite a luxury to lie in a bathtub of hot, nice-smelling water and doze off a little. It was extremely relaxing and was excellent for my spanked buttocks.
Getting dressed around five o'clock, I heard the front door close and saw Chubby dragging himself upstairs. He stopped on the steps to tell me that he was sick. I went up with him to his duplex to help him. He seemed weak as a kitten. I had to help him get his shorts off so he could get on the toilet. Then, whoa! He had terrible diarrhea as sweat broke out on his forehead. I felt his forehead, and he was feverish. After I helped him wipe himself and then get fully undressed, he climbed into his bed naked. I gave him two Tylenol, and he muttered, "Please stay with me, Dylan. I don't feel good." Of course, I stayed. I sat on his desk chair and stared at him as he lay in bed, breathing silently. I wanted to ask him what he thought he had, but he was too weak and sick to answer many questions.
Just when I thought he was asleep, his eyes flashed open, and he said, "I'm going to throw up," which he immediately did over the side of his bed in the waste basket I kicked over to him. It was a miracle the waste basket stayed upright and landed in the perfect spot. If I tried that a hundred times, it might end up like that one did once.
Well, most of the vomit went in the waste basket. It was a disgusting job cleaning that mess up, but I cleaned it just in time to help him back on the toilet. I had something like this last year. It was a twenty-four-hour thing, so I hope Chubby's is only twenty-four hours, too. Mercy, this nursing stuff sucks. Chubby didn't have much left in him by now, but he was wicked thirsty, so I made up a container of Kiwi-Watermelon Kool-Aid, and he drank most of it over the next half hour, and then he did fall into a deep sleep, and thank God for that. I went down to my place and got my stuff for bed, left a note for my Mom and a note upstairs for Chubby's Mom explaining what was up, and then had soup for my dinner.
Chubby was still sleeping, so I did my homework and did as much of his as possible. Then, I crawled into bed with him, right up against his back. Noticing that he didn't feel feverish anymore, so that's good. The next thing I knew, Chubby was coming out of the bathroom. It was pitch-black outside. "I just peed Dylan, that's all. I think I'm gonna be okay now." He got in bed and snuggled up, "Hug me, Dylan. C'mon, like we used to do." He didn't have to ask me twice.
Chubby's Mom made him stay home from school the following day, so I had to walk alone. I thought about hugging Chubby in bed last night with tears in my eyes because it felt so good. I held his limp body, and I just loved him to death. Whoa, I'm getting emotional! I stopped in the boy's lavatory at school to check myself out. Fussed with my light-blond, short, spiked hair until it was just right, I searched for Robby but ran into his brother, Dodger, instead. Dodger's a Freshman. When he saw me, he grinned, "Dylan, good morning! You're looking so cool, dude."
Dodger is upbeat and smiley, looking fresh, new, and wicked cute. We did a guy hug with a few pats on the back, and I said, "Dude!" We walked toward my homeroom as Dodger happily told me that his Dad had gotten four Red Sox tickets for Friday night. I hoped it would be Mr. Dickers, his sons, and me going to the game, but Dodger killed that idea, saying, "So, you can't come for a swim Friday night, but how about coming over Saturday?"
What? Since when does someone's mom go to a baseball game? I said, "Thanks, Dodger. Maybe I will." When I met Robby later in homeroom, he also told me about the Red Sox tickets. I pretended I was excited for him, but the truth is, I was jealous. Then, he didn't say anything about me coming for a swim Saturday, and I wasn't going over as young Dodger's friend, so fuck it. Chubby and I have been to Fenway Park exactly twice in our entire lives. It's just too expensive. Now Chubby works Saturdays, making it kind of a long, lonely day for me. We used to love Saturdays, Chubby and me.
So, a long, lonely walk home thinking about being gay and wondering if it's better to be in ignorant bliss by not knowing how good gay sex felt, or was it better to, once in a while, enjoy some gay sex knowing that most of the time you can't have it, and therefore, you'll be missing it like crazy now that you know, you know?
Then I wondered why Carl hadn't called me. He said he wanted to hook up with me before he went to Maine. He'll be going there after graduation, which must be happening soon. Wow, Carl fucked me so good last Saturday. I'll call him when I get home. Yeah, and then, right after that phone call, for a change, I'll get to hang out with Chubby all afternoon. He didn't go to school, so he sure ain't going to work. Wrong again!
As soon as I walked in the door, I bumped into Tris, who was coming out of my place. She told me Chubby had cabin fever from being inside all day and begged her to let him go to work. "He said to tell you he'll see you for dinner, Dylan." Moping around in my bedroom trying to decide if I was going to run my four miles today, I remembered about calling Carl. Before calling, I practiced a casual conversation about how I hoped he had a good time in Maine. I'll use that to lead into something like, by the way, Carl, we can hook up. At that point, I expect Carl will want me to come over tonight. No one answered, so I left a message, hoping he'd call me.
Then, that pissed me off. That sounded so weak! So timid... I hope you can call me back. Seriously? Goddammit!
The run went well, mostly because I took my iPod and listened to tunes the entire time, as opposed to thinking about all that convoluted shit I'm usually thinking about. Being a primarily in-the-closet gay seventeen-year-old ain't all it's cracked up to be, or more accurately, it sucks! Back home again after my run, I talked with Mom and Tris for a while and then took a shower. As I was drying, I heard the front door close, which concerned me because the moms had already left work. Who could have gone out the door?
Pulling on a pair of running shorts and stepping into sandals, I went out our front door, but there was nothing to see, so I went up to Chubby's place and saw his front door was ajar. What the fuck? I hesitated a second, then went inside, hearing a sound from Chubby's bedroom. I went in there and realized the sound came from his bathroom. I pushed the door open and saw Chubby on the toilet. He frowned and muttered, "Jeezus, Dylan! I'm taking a crap."
That sounded like the old Chubby, so he must be feeling better. I mumbled, "I can see that," and I sat on the side of the tub watching him trying to shit while maintaining a smart-ass grin on my face. He started laughing, "You are such a dick, Dylan." I told him he wasn't calling me names yesterday when I nursed him back to health." He said, "Oh yeah, that's right; you're a pretty good nurse, so get to work and wipe my ass, I'm done with my doody now, nursey."
I said, "First, where's your diaper?" Later, sharing a cigarette sitting on the steps down to my place, he told me he'd made it through half his shift at work, but the boss said he was looking pale and to take the rest of the shift off. "So here I am. Want to hang out with me, Dylan." I said, "Does a bear shit in the woods?" We did our homework to get it out of the way and then had an early dinner.
Chubby goofed around with my foot massage stuff, fetish, I guess. Then, on the sofa, almost lying on one another, we watched a Red Sox game. During the second inning, Chubby apparently wasn't feeling as well as he thought because he fell asleep against me. I watched the rest of the game, enjoying the feel of his hot little body next to mine. I also was sporting a semi-boner. That's two nights in a row. I have to be next to a sleeping Chubby. That's nice!
I woke Chubby after the game and asked if he needed me to sleep with him again tonight. He said he didn't want to take advantage of me, knowing I preferred sleeping alone. I wanted to shout, I USED to prefer sleeping alone, but now I don't!" Instead, I said I was here if he needed me, and he staggered up to bed alone. I did my toilet stuff and then went to bed, too, but before dozing off, I allowed myself to get pissed off at Carl for not returning my call.
Friday went by quickly, and after school, I looked forward to running and seeing my Marine, Tom. In preparation for that, as soon as I got home, I scrubbed my ass crack with a wet washcloth and even forced the tip of the washcloth up my asshole a little. Then I wet my pubic area and carefully shaved, leaving the num of pubes above my limp penis. I'd only recently learned what gay sexual rimming was. It's gross licking a guy's asshole. Holy shit, it sounds awful, but...
Carl schooled me on that. I learned almost everything I know about gay-related things from Carl. It's hard to imagine rimming being sexy, but if Tom wants to lick my asshole, I'm all for trying new experiences. After all, that's what I'm all about lately: Finding out about gay sex and how I fit into the picture.
I was appropriately clean for rimming. Running easily, I made good time for the first two miles. At the rest area, feeling good, I slowed to a jog, and then, Goddamn, I started feeling nervous again. I thought I was over that nervous anticipation thing with the Marine. My heart began to beat too hard and fast, and I was biting my lower lip, walking around the last tree group... and nothing. Maybe he's late. His little towel was still in the wire wastebasket, making me think about Wednesday. That was a strange afternoon. After waiting twenty minutes, I returned to the trail and finished my run. Can I believe I was wicked disappointed he wasn't there?
Yeah, even after he spanked me that last time, I'm still disappointed he didn't show up today. Not that I wanted anything to do with another spanking, but I'd take it rather than nothing. I was disappointed we didn't get to do our oral sex and the new thing, the rimming. And I liked it when his arm was under my chin, holding me against his body. Oh, my goodness, he has a very well-built body. And, ya know, I missed the whole deal about not knowing what might happen next. You never know with my Marine! Well, he explained his new schedule. But, dammit, I've been experiencing a hell of a lot of disappointments recently.
Later that afternoon, after my Mom went to work, I lay on my bed and slowly jerked off. I was horny. All that lying next to Chubby's hot little body the last two days without any way to get off for fear of waking him. Plus, I had no mutual jerk-off with Chubby like we did that time, no Marine today, and no call from Carl.
Enough about what I haven't had lately; I'll concentrate on his jerk off, right here, right now. What hot thing should I think about to help get me off? I thought about Carl fucking me last Saturday. The Marine gets me aroused, but my favorite sex is with Carl. And I don't refer to him as fat Carl now. He's become too important to me. He's a little hefty, that's all. I got a really hard cock thinking about that really hot first fuck he'd given me. With that picture in my head, I was fisting my hard boner, pulling the sheaf of foreskin on and off my swollen, sensitive cock head till I got that familiar feeling in my nuts. Then that frantic last few seconds, with my back, arched off the bed and my fist flying up and down my boner, vividly remembering how Carl's hard cock felt up inside me, and BAM! Lights went off in my head, and a really hard blast of teen cum shot straight up in the air, and then in an arc, it came down to land on my bare leg, then more drooling cum from my cock, and I was left gasping for air. God damn, I love to cum!
Still stroking myself a minute later, I thought that nothing I did by myself was as hot as when either Carl or Tom was my sex partner. I need that sexual partner to reach new heights of sexual delight. I've got a lot to learn, but it seems like new experiences are where it's at. Today is Friday, so it's been a week since Carl and I fucked last Saturday, and the Marine helped me get myself off this past Wednesday, and what else... that's it? No wonder I'm horny. Oh yeah, that's right, I did cum in my pants wrestling with Chubby Sunday night, and that felt good, but that ain't much sex for a sexy seventeen-year-old gay kid; not for an entire week, it's not. It would be okay for one day, not a week! And I'm still wicked horny right now after I just jerked off! What's up with that?
I cleaned up the cum and, swallowing my pride, called Carl again. His father answered and said Carl was out with a friend and he'd tell him I called. Hmmm? I didn't know Carl had any friends. Lying around on the sofa, bored, when I got more bad news. Chubby came home from work seeming to be depressed, and so he didn't feel like going out. He wanted to stay in his room. What the hell? We always go out on Friday night. Oh well, just one more disappointment. We stayed in his room like it was a school night and watched the Red Sox on TV again.
For fun, I tried to spot Dodger and Robby at the game, but amazingly, I wasn't able to do that. Hmmm? I said, "That's surprising, Chub. I couldn't see them in the crowd of 37,876 people packed tightly in that tiny ballpark." I tried to be amusing because Chubby was quietly grumpy and not himself. I wondered if it had something to do with him still being sick, or maybe it had something to do with him and that shitbird, Ricky. That thought sucked! I don't know why he didn't tell me what was wrong, and I don't know why I didn't ask.
With only myself for company on Saturday morning, the time dragged something terribly. Both Moms were at the spa Saturday morning, and, of course, Chubby was suddenly well enough to go to work with Rickie, but I didn't want to dwell on that. The primary thing on my mind was that fat fuck, Carl. The more I thought about Carl not returning my phone calls, the more pissed off I got. Finally, I grabbed my cell phone and punched in his number. I was getting more pissed off with each number I hit. The second ring was answered by his fat sister, who wanted to talk, and she wouldn't get off the phone until I had to finally say, in an exasperated way, "Please get your brother; I'm pressed for time right now." And then, in a pretend sweet voice, I added, "I'll call another time, and you and I will chat for hours." In a flat, bored voice, she said, "Liar!" and then screamed, "Carl... phone!".
Waiting for Carl to answer, I suddenly lost my nerve to say the pissed-off things I was going to say. Happily, he responded apologetically, so I didn't need my pissed-off attitude. He was friendly, and I didn't notice any role-playing at all. "Here's the main thing, Dylan. My cousin Larry and his family are here visiting this week, mainly for my graduation, and he's been stuck to me like gum on my shoe for the last three days." I said, "Oh, is this "THE" cousin?" Carl said, "The very one I've fucked thirty times; no, more than that, probably. Anyway, if I could lose him and spend some time with you, don't you think I'd do it? Come on, Dylan, don't be jealous. I'll be fucking him and you this summer."
My suggestion that he come here apparently wouldn't work because he still couldn't ditch the cousin. We tried several other suggestions, but they wouldn't work for various reasons. Finally, in desperation, I say, "How about if you include me and do us both?" Carl was quiet for a few seconds and then let out an exasperating, "Jeez, you have got serious hots for me, don'cha? You need me to fuck you, and you're putting on the pressure, huh? I heard you moaning and calling my name when I made you cum last Saturday."
He was starting to get on my nerves, but he was right. I have serious hots for him, and I want him to fuck me. I said, "I have a wicked crush on you and serious hots for you. I'm proud to be your bottom boy, too. Didn't I call you about ten times this week? I want you to fuck me so badly; I'd do whatever you wanted. You're my top guy, and we're gay teens, Carl. It's the hottest time of our lives, and I'm lucky enough to have you teaching me and fucking me. Please, fit me in, Carl. As I said, I'm your bottom boy, Carl!"
Carl sounded smug when he said, "I feel your pain and wish I could help, and I will fit you in as soon as I can, but it wouldn't work with Lewis here." I have no pride left. "Please, Carl! You promised to fit me in last week! You're my hero; I depend on you." He exhales noisily, then mutters, "It would need to be Lewis fucking you first, and then we'll see. I'm strictly a top and won't even consider Lewis fucking me. He'd throw a ram if I'm fucking both of you when he's so anxious to top someone. If you agree he can fuck you, we can at least do that much now, and I'm going out on a limb for you."
I groaned, mumbling, "I don't know him, Carl. I want you! Thanks anyway for trying. Um, if you'd fuck me after he does..." He interrupts, "No, Dylan, he'd be jealous if fucked you. Sorry."
Grumpily, I asked him who was running that show over there, and he said, "Well, Larry is, mostly." Oh man, another dead end. I said goodbye and good luck. I groveled enough and didn't get anything I wanted, so I lost! Carl is graduating on Monday and heading up the road to their summer house in Maine on Tuesday. Maybe I better think about jerking off again, maybe as soon as after lunch.
I had a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich and was thinking about making another one when my cell phone rang. Carl, talking fast and low, "Listen, Newman, I've been discussing this situation with Larry, and he'd have to do you first, of course, but he's going to let me fuck you afterward. That's what you're after, right? Me fucking you the way I did you last Saturday, hard and rough?"
I thought about it for just a few seconds, and instead of trying to get Carl to care about me having the hots for him and liking him as a boyfriend, I said, "Yeah, sure, and tell Lewis that I thank him, thank him for me, please! And thank you, Carl. I'd hate to think I wouldn't see you for a month, and..." He cuts me off, "Yeah, I know all that. We'll need to come over there." I didn't ask why, "Yes, of course. What time?"
Carl told me they had to come over here because their house was crawling with people, so I gave them directions, and it'll be at least ten minutes for them to drive there. Mom and Tris wouldn't be stopping here before going to work, so we'll have as much time as we want. No worries there, and doing this threesome with a stranger made me feel like a hot shit, a 'with it,' confident guy, having a sexy time on a Saturday afternoon. What's that called? A 'nooner,' right? I don't know.
In the bathroom, I'm brushing my teeth, washing my face and hands, and fucking with my hair getting the spikes in my blond hair that Carl barbered for me a few weeks ago, and I could use another one before he goes to Maine. I liked the way he cut my hair. It felt sexy. Carl cutting my hair, and my dick got almost hard like his cutting my hair was a sex act. I might have that haircut fetish thing. Odd, I never noticed it before Carl took me under his fat wing. Dammit, I need to stop thinking rude things, like Carl's fat-wing comment.
Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, I look cool. Then, I remove my shirt, put Mennen's deodorant under my arms, and get a fresh T-shirt in my bedroom. I'm ready but getting fidgety waiting for Carl to get here. This is the first time Carl is coming to my house. I go back to the bedroom and straighten up things. It looks good there, so I pace in the living room until the doorbell rings.
I took a deep breath and tried to act cool and confident when opening the door. Carl still looked good, except for his fat body. The other guy is, obviously, Larry. He didn't look good, but he had a great body. Carl's head on Larry's body, and you got yourself a hot boyfriend. I said, "Sup? Come on in, guys." Larry introduced himself, and we bumped firsts, then he hugged me, muttering, "You're a cute motherfucker, aint'cha?" Carl mumbled, "I told you, Larry," and hugged me around the shoulders and kissed the top of my head.
A little small talk reveals that Larry is a sophomore, so he's a year younger than me and two years younger than Car. Is Larry really in charge? Carl's well over six feet tall, and his cousin's well over five feet tall, about five foot seven inches, I'd guess. Like I said, he's got a great-looking body under a tight T-shirt. Unfortunately, his face didn't match. His eyebrows were too thick, his eyes a little too far apart, his nose too flat, and his mouth naturally turned down as if he was always pissed -off about something. On the plus side, like Robby Dickers, Larry had a nice voice, cute lips, and great-looking smallish, super-white teeth in a really clean-looking pinkish mouth with a nice rosy pink tongue, so that's all good.
Some guys' mouths look healthy and clean, which is what Larry's mouth is. Good for kissing. On the other hand, his hair wasn't too cool. Dark brown hair parted in the middle; seventies style. Too long and poker straight, reaching below his chin all the way around the sides and back of his head. Hair hung in his face when he bent his head forward. Nice clean hair, but the style made me think of a woman's hairdo. It also made me think about Carl's comment when he was talking me into letting him cut my hair. He said he always cut his cousin's hair. Well, maybe he does, but not this cousin. What do I care, though? Carl's a good barber.
Sounding confident and in charge, Larry said, "Dude, where are we going to play today? Certainly not here." I tried to smile at Larry's rude way of putting that, and then I suggested my bedroom, but when he looked inside, he said, "Nah, too small. What else ya got?" Kind of an obnoxious, pushy kid! I looked at Carl for help, but he shrugged, muttering, "Larry's doing us a favor, Newman, so..."
So, do we need to please him? Is that what Carl's inferring? I suggested the finished basement, and downstairs we went. Carl gave me friendly looks, and then he squeezed my shoulders affectionately, and I leaned against him. I really like Carl, smiling back at him to let him know everything is alright. He's trying, I suppose, to counterbalance his rude cousin. In the finished basement, Larry looked around the TV room and the little half bathroom off to the side, next to the bar. It seemed that he reluctantly nodded that this would do, and Carl excitedly asked, "What should we do first, Larry?"
This is weird because Carl is older and much bigger than Larry, plus he's fucked Larry thirty or forty times, and he won't let Larry fuck him, and yet Larry's the boss. What the fuck?
Ignoring Carl, Larry stepped inside the bathroom, leaving the door open. Carl and I stand here like nerds watching Larry take his dick out and piss in the toilet, saying to me, "Hey there, guy, get undressed. Sorry, I've forgotten your name." Carl says, "His name is Dylan Newman." Shaking his penis to get the last drop of piss off, he mutters, "Whatever." Carl helped me pull my polo shirt over my head, and I unbuckled and dropped my cargo shorts, then stepped out of them. I was determined to have a good time. I'm horny as hell, and I'll likely never see this kid again, so I want a hard fuck from him and then hopefully from Carl, and thank you very much; now, please get lost. The get lost is for Larry. I want to go to bed naked with Carl.
Larry took his shirt off and stepped out of his sneakers. While he was getting out of his shorts, he told me, "You and me, buster, need to make out before I fuck you. That's my thing. Carl says he has had some success making out with you, so I'll see for myself. You're undoubtedly cute enough and prettier than most girls I've seen, so I'm psyched.
This has caught me off guard, but I'm a pussy when it comes to hot, dominant sexy guys telling me what to do, and he has a good mouth for kissing, so if I close my eyes, you know? During the one second it took me to think that last thought, Larry stepped over to me and, taking hold of my head with a hand on either side, pulled it down to his level and gave me a juicy, wet kiss on my mouth, then again. Then, with unbelievable arrogance, he said, "You've got nice lips, pal, but ya gotta put your arms around my neck while we do this. It's kinda required that you participate, or Larry and I are gone."
Maybe it was the compliment about my nice lips, or perhaps it's because I'm a wuss, or maybe because I'm horny, and those first kisses were pretty fucking hot. Whatever the reason, I did what he said and wrapped my arms around his neck. He muttered, "Tighter," and I squeezed around his neck as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. His mouth did taste fresh and clean, exactly how it looked. His tongue was just right, too! Not mushy like Carl's, or small and intricate or whatever. It was a firm, bubble gum pink tongue, and my balls churned when he licked and sucked my tongue. I was starting to breathe harder through my nose as my hand went in that long hair at the back of his head that was silky smooth-feeling. Keeping my eyes closed and willing myself not to think about his goofy looks, I hugged his neck tighter and played with his hair.
He's hot! Larry sucked my lips, one at a time, in a new kind of kiss that was very erotic. When he'd casually change from one type of kiss to another, the ends of his hair got in both our mouths, and instead of being gross, it all seemed wilder and sexier. Wet with saliva, his hair stuck to both of our faces. It was a totally new sensation for me, and I really liked the make-out. My dick was getting wicked hard as he picked up the intensity of his kissing, his great tongue was in constant motion, not frantic at all, but like he was savoring every bit of each kiss. I was moaning quietly into his mouth by now, my arms tightly around his neck as he moved his mouth away from mine and licked across my cheek before resting the side of his face against the side of mine, my arms holding even tighter around his neck as if to prevent him from pulling his head away from me. Our spit was all over our faces, and many of his saliva-soaked hairs stuck to my cheek as we rested the sides of our faces together.
Raspy breathing for a second, and then he said, "You got me ready to cream my jeans. Even so, I'll take that chance because I gotta have a couple more tastes of your mouth; you're one delicious hottie, Dan." And he went back to that fabulous way of kissing. When he was finally done, my boner was sticking straight up my belly, the same as his. He pulled away from me, breathing with short bursts. He stroked my boner twice, saying breathlessly, "I like that shaved look you have. Cool." He took another deep breath and, blowing it out, said, "That was an awesome make-out. Nice! Now get on all fours." He looked at Carl and mumbled, "I'm glad you talked me into this," and to me, "I'm going to give your pussy a workout, so get ready, Freddy."
Larry looked over at Carl, and as he stroked his boner, "I gotta respect you a little, Carl. You broke your boy in the right way. He does what he's told. Props to you!" Carl, with a semi-boner he'd gotten watching Larry leading the make-out we just finished, smirked at Larry and back-slid into his pompous mode, saying, "I have my moments. Newman here was so obviously wanting me. I spotted him months ago but took it slow with him. Let him get used to me because I knew it was only a matter of time. He was easy enough once I decided to take him in hand. He took to my lead easily, and he took to getting fucked like a duck takes to water. He needs it, like I told ya earlier." Then, gipping my chin, Carl mutters, "You need it, don't you, Dylan?
My cock drooled precum. Carl is my idol or something. I shrugged, "Yes, Carl," but It was apparent to me that Larry wasn't paying any attention to what Carl and I were saying. I didn't know what to think. I never expected to fall for Carl as I did, wanting to be his boyfriend. He did a fantastic job of introducing me to my true sexuality.
Larry was taking a condom from its wrapper, then smacking my ass, saying, "Push your pussy up toward me," and another smack. On my hands and knees, I was very aroused, breathing a little harder than usual. Larry walked right in front of me with an opened condom packet in one hand, and with the other, he grabbed the short hairs at the front of my head and pulled up so my neck was straining. He said, "Suck me off a little first, pal."
Grunting from the hair-pulling pain, I saw that Larry had a regular-looking penis but a little longer than most. It was about six and a half inches long in its current, relatively firm condition and looked plenty good enough to suck. On the not-too-cool side, Larry had a lot of pubic hair that went down under his balls. Closing my eyes, I sucked him as Carl taught me to suck cock. Larry, playing with my hair, said, "I can tell you cut this kid's hair, didn't ya Carl? It's the same haircut you always give my little brother." Carl said, "Yeah, I cut Dylan's hair. I cut it short the way I like it. I will give him another haircut before I go to Maine. Aren't I, Newman?"
Oh, man, I hope Chubby will understand. I nod, "Yes, Carl. I like the way you cut my hair." Carl says, "And I didn't ask him how he wanted it cut. Did I, Dylan?" I lick Larry's penis, then mumble, "Nope. You cut it the way you want it to look, and I liked it!"
Carl says, "As you can see, Larry, my boy here has a serious crush on me. And doesn't he have the most beautiful hair you've ever seen?" Larry wasn't listening to Carl again, saying, "Pal, can you take it in your throat?" Carl answered, "I haven't gotten around to teaching him that yet?" Larry goes, "Oh, too bad," and he said, "That's enough licking. Put my dick in your mouth," and he slapped the top of my head, adding, "You cute motherfucker you."
I sucked on the head, then moved it with my fingers so the head rubbed against the inside of my cheek, then more slushy sucking on it with saliva drooling down my chin. It was a hard boner when Larry pulled it out of my mouth, muttering, "Well, I'll teach him to deep throat later this afternoon." Carl said, "He's a fast learner, Larry, so I expect he'll take to deep-throating with no problem."
Yeah, I guess I will since my Marine's big cock has been down my throat plenty of times. Larry's cock isn't as big and won't give me any problems. Larry says, "You did a good job teaching him how to suck cock." Carl shrugs, "He loves sucking my cock. Jesus, the suction from his mouth, huh?" They're talking about me like I'm not here or like I was their pet dog or an inanimate object. Larry's voice is so pleasant to listen to, though.
As Larry was sliding the condom on his almost seven-inch boner, he instructed Carl. "You better get him to suck your dick if you expect to do sloppy seconds that won't be all that sloppy because I'm wearing a condom. I'll tell you when I'm going to get him super-hot and ready to blow. He's got one choice boy-pussy on him; you were right again, Carl. I want him whimpering and begging for more. Shouldn't take long, and then I'll tell you to stick it up his ass."
Carl is in front of me now. He gets on his knees so I can reach his cock. Holding it out to me, Carl says, "Do not get carried away, Newman. Suck a boner on me and take it out then." I nod and suck the head of his cock into my mouth as Larry pushes his rather lengthy boner way up inside me, and it hurts even more than Carl's thrust had hurt me last Saturday. I went down on my forearms, Carl's cock sliding out of my mouth as I tried not to scream. The pain was significant, but Larry chatted away at Carl without concern. "Pull him up, Carl. Get your cock back in his mouth."
With a hand under my arms, Carl lifted me back up on my hands, and I took his cock in my mouth with pain vibrations from my rectum, the only thing I noticed. The pain lessened as I sucked Carl's cock; my cock was partially flaccid now. Larry backed out his boner about six inches and then shoved it back in, saying, "Wow, it's tight, Carl. Feels excellent. Just like you said." At that, Larry did another dozen hard humps in and out of me, justling me to and fro on my hands and knees, Carl's cock sliding on my tongue, now getting hard as wood. Larry had my rectum opening up now, and his big boner was sliding back and forth tightly but smoothly, too.
In a conversational voice, he told Carl, "He opened up nicely for me. Inviting, you know?" His boner bobbing in front of him, Carl mutters, "He likes a guy's big cock up his ass, and that's for sure." Lary does a few hard thrusts, then says, " I'm going to pile drive his pussy for a bit, but it doesn't look like he's gonna last very long. Look at his nuts; they're both already hard and up against his groin and ready to fire off. This kid likes to get fucked, huh? You better get your condom on pretty quick, Carl."
Larry gripped my hips tightly and fucked me for two or three minutes fast. It wasn't as hot as Carl's fuck, but it was plenty hot enough, and I was moaning and eventually whimpering as he predicted. Still, the sensation in my rectum and around my anus was so fantastic I never wanted it to end. Then, oh God, I'm whimpering now, "Oh, ahh, Larry, feels so... ah, ah, Larry..." It was just like Larry said, and soon after that, my body stiffened, and my balls were like hard stones up against my belly. Again, just like Larry predicted, my climax exploded, and I squealed and thrashed around, my boner firing cum up on my chest and neck as my mouth was going, "Ohhhh, ohhhh! Ahhh."
Larry laughed in an out-of-breath way but kept up the fast humping, saying, "Holy shit, Carl. He already blew his load." Then he slowed the thrusting to catch his breath and added, "He's still tight--change of plans. I'm going up in him as far as I can get. When I lay on his back, I want to feel that cock of yours up my ass, Carl. Do it hard like you did last night."
After spreading my ass cheeks with a hand on each buttock, he humped up deeper inside my bowels and then lay entirely on my back with his legs on either side of me, carrying some of his weight. His body felt good on my back, and I'm becoming a fan of Larry's, and never mind that he's not good-looking. He sure had everything he needed to get me hotter than hell. Then, he made it even better by wrapping his arms around my chest, probably to help keep him in place while Carl fucked him. I looked back, and Carl's face was bright red, and his eyes shined with anticipation as he concentrated on lining up his boner with Larry's hairy asshole.
I felt Larry move forward slightly on my back when Carl humped up inside him in that one familiar forceful thrust of his fat hips that I knew so well. Every hump of Carl's caused Larry's boner to poke or pull at a new spot in my asshole, making me grunt or blow air out between my teeth. He was sexy as hell, and having his cock up inside me and Carl's cock up inside him was otherworldly. With Larry a few inches shorter than me, his moist nose exhales went on the side of my cheek, and his mouth put a spray of moisture down lower, on my neck. With each humping thrust, Larry goes, "Ohhh, yeah, Carl," and then he'd rock slightly on my back as Carl pulled back some and then shoved it back up inside Larry's asshole hard, Larry's cock massaging my hole with each thrust up his.
This was beyond excellent, and I don't know why Larry laughed at me for moaning in sensuous pleasure earlier because he was moaning a lot more than I did. These two had worked it out and knew how to pleasure one another. Big fat Carl picked up speed and fucked Larry the same way he fucked me last Saturday. It was fast, hard, and rough, the way Larry and I liked it. Carl wasn't shy about slamming his hard cock up inside his cousin. It was interesting how Larry wasn't the arrogant, bossy know-it-all now. Carl had temporarily fucked all that out of him, and Larry was the wimpy one, whimpering in my ear, laying on my back, and holding me tightly around my chest. Larry had this mantra going, "Make me cum, Carl. Make me cum, Carl. Make me cum, Carl."
As Larry reached more intense erotic territory, he started fucking me again. Quick little two-inch thrusting that soon got my boner back up to steel hardness. Amazingly, Carl and Larry worked the humping in tandem, and it wasn't herkie jerky or anything like that. It was smooth and very hot and sexy. I was getting ready to join in with Larry's mantra when he grunted and pushed up in me fast and hard about five times, and I knew he was climaxing. Right after that, Carl made some similar grunting sounds, and I felt a spray of spit from him on the side of my face as he had a hot climax into his condom; the cousins climaxed at the same time.
I would have cum again myself if I could have stroked my cock a little. That wasn't possible, though, because Larry was lying on my back, and with the extra stress of fat Carl humping into him, I needed both arms holding us upright. These two are hot-sexy boys. They have drawbacks in their looks, weight, or personality, but they know their sex. They'd had a lot of experience and felt confidently comfortable about what they were doing, and it made for a dynamite experience for me.
After the climaxes, Carl was taking such deep breaths it was a genuine concern for a bit, him being so overweight and all, but it wasn't too long before he pulled out of Larry's asshole, chuckling, "Holy shit, boys, was that hot or what?" Then, taking off his condom, he exclaimed, "Oh my God! Look at this thing, Larry." Larry was now getting off me and pulling his softened cock out of my asshole, me moaning, "Ohhh, ahh... Larry, ah," but both boys were too interested in comparing their condom loads, seeing which one held the most cum.
My cum was on the little area rug beneath me and my chest and arms, too. Nice climaxes! I'll throw the little rug in the washer when the guys leave. Carl, taking both condoms, flushed them down the toilet. Larry had some orders for me, "Hey, sport, how 'bout if you get us some drinks? Do you have Cokes?" He was absently stroking his soft dick when he asked that, and then said, "Jesus, Carl, you did it to me again. You fucked me so hard, I gotta take a dump," and he went into the powder room and sat on the toilet, leaving the door open again.
Pulling on my cargo shorts and starting up the steps for the drinks, Larry called out, "No! You, what's your name? Lose the shorts. You stay naked so we can look at that hot body of yours. Go ahead, kid, do what you're told and drop the shorts."
Huh?
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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