NOON SEX
I'm walking home from Dunfey's Pharmacy, where I'm working part-time this summer. This temporary job after graduating high school will keep me from enlisting in the Army until I'm sure it's a good idea to do that. It's my only option because I'm not going to college, and I don't want to work at minimum wage all my life. As I'm taking a shortcut home across the Upper Darby High School soccer field, I see Wayne Burns near the other side, sitting with two of his posse smoking pot. I can smell it from here.
I nervously drifted to the basketball court at the end of the parking lot to skirt around the side of the school. Oh, fuck, Wayne saw me, and he just called me by my last name, "Rielly," and my heart started beating fast. Wayne was in my homeroom junior and senior years.
Arrogantly sauntering toward me, Wayne yells, "You little shit. You better stop when I say stop!" I stop, my dick quivering in my boxer shorts. We both want the same thing; I admit that, but I keep telling myself I need to stop doing it. He murmurs, "Don't try ignoring me, Ricky. You know you want it." He swatted the back of my head, asking, "Is your old lady working at the market?
Trying to ignore that question, I whine, "Don't hit me, Wayne." He smacks the back of my head again, and I cringe as he gets me in a headlock, giving me a nookie. He graduated high school this year, too. He's twenty years old, and I'm eighteen, like most high school graduates. Wayne is six-feet-one, and I'm five-foot-seven. He weighs one hundred eighty-eight pounds, and I weigh a hundred and eighteen pounds. I know all these statistics because Wayne was in gym class with me, and we all were weighed, measured, and whatever a month ago.
"Well, is she working?" I nodded, "Yeah, but we can't..." he roughly gave me a guy hug, muttering, "Yes, we can. Let's go." He did the fake guy hug to give the impression to onlookers that he was being nice to the little brother of his friend from high school. Resigned but secretly excited, I walked beside him, his arm across my shoulders. Wayne asked, "You bought the rubbers I told you to get, right?"
"They're condoms, not rubbers. This isn't nineteen-fifty. They're condoms, made of latex, not rubbers made of rubber, and, no, I couldn't get any." He slaps the back of my head, "Why not, you little turd?"
He's such a prick! I mutter, "Old man, Dunfey, was watching me too closely. He knows someone is stealing condoms."
I unlock the front door, and Wayne pushes me inside, saying, "Upstairs." He follows me upstairs, down the hall, and into my bedroom with my unmade bed and yesterday's clothes scattered on the floor. We silently get undressed, my head down. Naked, without thinking about going to do it, I stroke my four-inch penis and steal a look at Wayne's big cock. It's over six inches long and hefty, with a lot of snarly-looking pubic hair that tapers into a narrow trail leading to his belly button. His hairy chest extends partway down his stomach.
Wayne is an irresistible bully, and I secretly like it when he's dominating me, paying attention only to me. I fantasize about it, dream it in my sleep, and daydream about it when working. He's been randomly fucking me since I was fifteen when he was sixteen, but then he had his seventeen birthday a week later. Since we just graduated, we haven't done it for almost three weeks, and I was hoping I could quit this. I don't want to be queer all my life.
When I'm naked, and he has his pants off, I forget all about not wanting to be a queer all my life. It always starts with me pretending I'm resisting. He ignores that and drags me by my arm to the bathroom, where he takes a long, strong-smelling horse piss in the toilet with me staring, my eyes big, my dick getting hard, turned on by Wayne's masculinity.
He hugs me, his beard scratching against my peach fuzz face. I wished he would kiss my mouth and make me open so his tongue could get in to dominate my tongue and... ah, forget it. He never kisses.
He nods at his dick, and I lean forward to lick the last few drips of urine from the head, then lick and suck his cock while stroking it, my fingers not fitting around his fat, heavy cock. He runs his fingers through my hair, murmuring, "Good, Ricky, do it like I trained you. His penis is soon a hard, fat rod. Then, without any further foreplay, we get right to it.
Initially, it's a mutual endeavor; I suck his cock, he rolls on the condom, I bend forward with my hands on my knees, and his condom-covered big boner sways as he spanks me, making loud "SMACK! SMACK!" sounds that ring off the tile walls in the bathroom. It's not a playful spanking; he spanks me hard as if it's my fault he can't stop fucking me. I get a four-inch boner that's so hard I could drive nails with it. Tears on my face, but I always get a hard-on being spanked by him. Sometimes he puts me over his lap, and I'll cum before he's done spanking my bad-boy ass.
Not today, though. Gasping, he stops spanking and snarls, "All you fucking faggots make me sick. You can't get enough of big cocks to fuck your cunts," and his hard penis with the big mushroom head is pushed against my tight rosebud asshole, but, as always, he has some difficulty pushing past my sphincter muscle. He mutters, "I feel like spitting you in half by pushing my big boy inside your tight asshole."
Smacking my ass again, he mutters, "Get the Vaseline," and he smacks the back of my head. I scream, "Stop it! That fucking hurts, Wayne!" He's so smugly good-looking with deep, dark blue eyes. He mutters, "C'mon, Ricky. I've got to meet Candy in ten minutes. Get the Vaseline!"
Candy's his girlfriend. Pretending I'm sulking that he's meeting her, I stroke my granite boner and grab the jar of Vaseline from the medicine chest over the sink. After handing it to him, I get back in position. The Vaseline helps, and I'm trying to help, too. I try relaxing my muscles because I want to feel his huge boner inside me, so I continue making myself available, pushing my ass up, and relaxing as much as I can.
Of course, his fat cock always has its way eventually, forcing past the stubborn sphincter ring and into my asshole. The usual pain ensues because once he gets inside, Wayne relentlessly pushes his engorged sex organ steadily up, up, up my ass, my tunnel of sexual delight. The foreskin of his uncut penis is pulled back tightly, fully exposing the swollen, rosy red head as it responds to the tightness of my bowels by getting harder and fatter as the entire length of his big boner is experiencing the tightness at the same time. Nerve endings get confused... pain or pleasure?
Tightness, excitement, hurt... then the pleasure starts in my ass; that's what I concentrate on. We're on our own now. The pleasure coming off my prostate overwhelms the pain. The pain disappears as if it were never a part of this. Then, for me, there's only the forbidden sexual pleasure, always the wave after wave of luscious sexual pleasure. Every time he pushes it inside me or retracts his erect, swollen penis, Wayne makes a hissing sound through his teeth, pulling his cock back until just the head remains inside me. He makes a quiet gasping sound and pushes it back in with the hissing sound even louder, his hands tightly gripping my skinny hips, then one hand coming away to smack my ass until it's red. Jerking his boner back so quickly, I get scared that he'll pull it out entirely, but it gets caught by the tightening sphincter muscle that doesn't want the friendly intruder to go. Wayne plows his big hard sex organ back up inside me as, shuddering with pleasure, I try imitating his long hissing sound but can't and get another smack on my butt.
By the fourth thrust, Wayne has me acting docile to him and totally under his control. I moan, picturing his big boner plowing up my ass, my hole swallowing his engorged sex tool. Another retraction and immediate thrust of his hips sends his large boner back inside me again, making me grunt, "Ahh!" and then again, but with more force driving it back up my ass, and I again moan, "Ahh!"
His thrusting is still tight but sliding smoother, his nut sack swinging and hitting under my left butt cheek or cracking the back of my smaller sack. I'm fully engaged, murmuring, "Oh, ahh, fuck me, Wayne, harder..." His crotch slams against my buttocks, he gasps, then smacks my ass and slaps the back of my head, grunting, "Don't let your pussy hang. Lift it! Keep it up!"
I lift my ass and whimper at the incredible sensations. In my brain, I belong to him. I belong to Wayne Cosgrove. He could put a dog collar and leash on me and lead me around the neighborhood. I'd lift my leg and piss against a shrub until he's through with me. I'll do what I'm told.
He pumps my ass confidently now, not concerned with what I think. He knows I'm under his control. To prove it, he pressed me to move a few steps to the right, where he was more comfortably away from the toilet. His hands grip my waist with enough authority to let me know I'm not going anywhere. My hands on my knees give me support as his thrusting is hard enough that I sway forward with each thrust. With a quiet moan, "Ahhh," he moves his hands to my shoulders, now pulling me back into his thrusts, sensations soaring with wave after wave of a queerly unique sexual pleasure that's swarming all over me, making me shudder and whine, "Fuck me, Wayne..."
My cock is a four-inch steel rod, a dripping hard cock, precum drooling out of it, "Drip, drip, drip," onto the tile floor of the bathroom. Wayne's now grunting at the effort he's putting into each penetration, his groin smacking off my quivering bottom with every hump of his hips. I was jostled about until he yelled, "Grab the towel bar, faggot, and stay steady..."
Both my hands grab the towel bar, my legs trembling, my cock hard as stone. Wayne grabs a handful of my hair, pulling my head back so far that my Adam's apple pokes uncomfortably out the front of my neck, and I gag as Wayne grunts, "Stop shaking!" He cares only about how his boner feels. I could drop dead for all he cares, and knowing that makes my stone boner get even harder as I moan, "Ooh, ummm, it feels so good..."
He pounds his big, hard cock up my ass again and again and again as most of the blood in my body has relocated to my cock, and it aches so good. It feels so sexy and hot; I can only moan as Wayne lets go of my hair and smacks the back of my head. Precum drools from my boner as my balls move tightly up against my groin, getting heavier and harder by the second. Pressurized sperm is readying itself to blast out of its confined space in my nuts. Wayne's are doing the same; he's getting closer and closer to climaxing and now humping his big boner back and forth in my ass faster and harder, increasingly desperate to unload his creamy hot cum that's heating up and beginning to burn his balls.
My climax is on me, and I let go of the towel bar with my right hand to grab my bobbing boner and fist it, tightly stroking it fast five times, blowing a saliva spray from my mouth, reveling in the thrill of unparalleled anticipation made possibly by Wayne's cock, my foreskin tightly pulled back, the skin on my boner about to split, I make a shrill sound of relief and extreme pleasure, hump my skinny hips, my nuts tight and hard as walnuts, it's a super Nova explosion in my head, and worlds collide a million light years from here as POW, screaming hot cum blows out the quivering piss slit in the head of my petrified penis.
Masturbating while getting fucked is the ultimate sexual experience, the ultimate thrill ride to the stars; double-dipping and climaxing is the indescribably delicious pleasure of a kind nothing else matches, and it's impossible to describe the sensations spreading out all over me, reaching my scalp down to my curling toes as I shudder and shake, whimpering at the power of it, my whole body tingling.
I knew Wayne had his explosive climax, too. I felt him blowing his load of hot, creamy cum into my bowels. It was a second of extra warmth and then a gooey, sloppy feeling inside me as his sperm, near the speed of light, tried to impregnate an egg without a clue what an egg was. It didn't matter that they didn't know because there was no egg to impregnate. They all die wondering what the fuck is that smell?
Once he catches his breath and is sure he'll live, Wayne pulls his penis from my ass. It's only a minute after climaxing, and now I don't belong to him anymore. I say, "You were too rough! Why are you so mean to me?."
He looked at me with compassion in his eyes and said, "Sorry, but you're so... never mind. Get dressed!"
I changed my tune. "No, I didn't mean what I said. It was okay, Wayne; it's just that I don't think we. I mean, I..."
He's already dressed and gone. I hear the front door close quietly. I feel a sense of loss for a second, and then I think... I've got to clean up. I use the fact that I need to clean up to work up some animosity toward Wayne because it's always me who needs to clean up. There's spunk at the base of the wall under the towel rack and some on the toilet. The toilet? How did it get there? Oh, that was probably from the last time I jerked off.
I turn the shower on and then grab yesterday's shower towel and wipe drooling Vaseline from my ass, then wipe up cum from the floor and the wall under the towel rack. I arranged the towel in the hamper so no one would notice the strange substance that would have dried on it. Mom probably doesn't know what cum looks like anyway. The water is warm enough, so I get under the flow and scrub, scrub, scrub away all evidence of me taking it up the ass ten minutes ago. A quick shampoo, and finally, I wash my dick. My dick is my favorite thing in the world.
Drying with a clean, fluffy bath towel, I comb my hair and pad into my bedroom to grab a clean pair of boxer underpants and put them on, feeling guilty for having that sex with Wayne. On the other hand, I feel like a cool, hot shit doing what most guys my age don't have the balls to do. After getting dressed, I lie on the sofa, hoping Wayne isn't mad at me.
THE END