The Pastel Cowboy Chapter 16 This story concerns adult and teenage gay males who may be involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.
This story is copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This is my third submission to Nifty. My previous submissions can be found in the High School section under Kiel’s Story. Any comments or questions are welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net.
A warm thank you goes out to all who write. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff, whether you like it or not. I try to answer all emails, even flames. (I’m a writer, I live for rejection.) Although sometimes it takes a little time to get back to you, I do try to answer. If I'm remiss in replying to yours, I apologize.
The Pastel Cowboy
by Carl Holiday
Chapter 16 – What am I?
Doctor Jeffers was sitting on the desk when Zach and Sara walked into Room 321, Napoleon Hall. He smiled, but his eyes were filled with evil. A new term, new freshmen, new blood to be let and Doctor Jeffers held the scalpel. Most of their classmates from summer term were spread out through the room, trying to avoid the good Doctor’s attention. It was hopeless to hide, though. The Doctor had a dagger and was fully capable of throwing it straight into your heart, wherever you sat.
There were about thirty-five students, but a few of them were going to die today, a few more tomorrow, and by next Monday Doctor Jeffers would have his class whittled down to a manageable size. Zach wondered which of them didn’t have the guts to stick it out, to throw the shit back at the Doctor, or to know this was only a class, one of many they were going to take before being handed their baccalaureate and an application to graduate school.
“This looks out of the way,” Zach said when the reached two empty seats in the corner by the back door.
Sara smiled. She was, he assumed, at that time of the month when girls were unsteady. She’d spoken little in the car. She made him sit in the backseat and call Jeremy, who was happy to hear from his boyfriend and mad they wouldn’t be together for another three weeks.
They sat down and everyone watched the clock, except for a few who were looking everywhere except at the clock. Doctor Jeffers wasn’t in a hurry to skewer his first victim, who turned out to be a girl in grey slacks, a puffy white blouse, and half her crew cut was green and the other orange. A row of shiny gold rings took the place of one eyebrow. A large gold ring hung from her nose.
“My class starts exactly at eight o’clock,” Doctor Jeffers said as she walked by.
“Whatever,” she said.
“You might as well transfer out now,” he said, “because from this point forward you have a failing grade and will continue to have a failing grade until you prove to me you are worthy to show up late every day.”
She turned and stared at him. After a moment, she left.
“Sara? Will the late comer come back?” Doctor Jeffers asked.
“I don’t think so Doctor Jeffers.”
“No, anyone else feel like leaving while you have the chance?” Doctor Jeffers asked as he looked about the room, his eyes paused at each fresh face and, finally, bore into Zach.
“Have a good summer?”
“Yes, sir, it was memorable,” Zach said.
“Yes, one that you won’t forget for a long time,” Doctor Jeffers said. He lowered his feet to the floor and walked to the blackboard where he wrote a big 1 and below that he put a big 2. Beside the 1 he wrote 25 and beside the 2 he wrote 50. Below the 50 he wrote 25. On the other side of the blackboard he wrote a great big zero.
“Can anyone guess?” He asked when he turned back to the class. “I’m not asking you repeats, I want the newbies to stick their necks out. Oh, yes, some of you are new, as this is officially English Comp 101, but a few, quite a few, actually, are in English Comp 102. Both classes are required for graduation no matter what your major will eventually turn out to be, we even get a one or two kinesiology majors some years. So any of the newbies want to take a risk on failing this class?”
Everyone stared at the good Doctor, the newbies wondered what the hell they’d gotten themselves into and the repeats quietly laughed to themselves, thankful they weren’t in the headlights.
“Times up,” Doctor Jeffers said. “You will do one paper every week. Twenty-five percent of your grade is based on those papers. You will do two term papers for fifty percent of your grade, one due mid-term and the other will be your final. The other twenty-five percent is based on classroom participation. Since you are all high achievers from the top of your high school classes, anything below eighty percent is failing. So, that means? Zach?”
“Keep your mouth shut in class and you’ll end up with a great big zero.”
“Very good my boy. Oh, by the way, everyone, I like Zach. We almost had sex, but his standards are much higher than mine.”
Eyes bore into Zach, but he knew the truth and laughed to himself. The good Doctor was on a roll, someone was being prepped for slaughter. Would it be a clean slit of the throat or were they going to have to bludgeon the poor slob?
“Are you saying you’re a fag?” A voice from the far corner of the room asked.
“And, you are?” Doctor Jeffers asked.
“I asked if you are a fag. I don’t take classes from fags.”
“Oh, dear, what shall we do? Sara? Any guesses?” Doctor Jeffers’s affectation was perfect right down to the floppy hand patting his cheek.
Sara looked at Zach and then looked at the victim. She looked at the good Doctor and said, “Well, I guess we could watch some gay porn and whichever of the guys, including you, got hard-ons we might assume they were at least a little gay, but I don’t want to watch gay porn today. Can we do that tomorrow?”
“Very good, Sara, that was excellent.” Doctor Jeffers was back to eminent Professor Emeritus holding Damocles sword.
“Are you trying to make fun of me?” The victim asked digging himself deeper.
“You, sir, appear Native American,” Doctor Jeffers said. “Would you happen to be a descendant of one of the noble races who inhabited this great land before Europeans came across the big water searching for Disneyland?”
“Choctaw and proud of it.”
Zach tried to look across the room at the face. The voice seemed familiar, but the attitude was completely wrong. Had it been that long?
“From Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, right? Oh, and, Oklahoma?”
“Yeah, we were sent to Oklahoma, too.”
“Zach? You’re from Oklahoma. Know any Choctaws?”
“Yeah, my best friend up to the eighth grade was Choctaw.”
“Oh, my god!” The Choctaw boy exclaimed. He stood up and picked up his backpack. “You’re that faggot Zachary Alexander. What the hell are you doing here? Well, I’m not staying in this class.”
“Excuse me a moment,” Doctor Jeffers said as the boy walked toward the door. “Could I have your name so I can remove you from the attendance list?”
“Zucker, William Thaddeus.”
“Thank you.”
Zach looked at the boy walking out the door. He was overweight, flabby mostly. Zach thought of that night so long ago when they’d sucked each other. They could’ve been lovers.
“Zach? Comment?”
“Yeah, that was my best friend. He moved away. We were very close, once.”
“Close?”
“Yeah, he gives a good blowjob.”
“Ooh, now isn’t that gay? Okay, everyone, two down, anyone else want to stand in the dock and take your punishment? No? Okay, I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way. This week’s paper, due end of class on Friday, will be on your most intimate secret. I want to know the one thing you’ll never tell your parents or your lover. I want to know the one thing you keep close to your heart. If this involves a crime, a major crime like murder or rape or something like that, I don’t want to know, if you tell me anyway, I’ll turn you into the authorities. No, I want that dirty little secret. The one about you killing your little brother’s hamster might be good. Anyone done that? No? I had a paper on that a couple years ago. One boy admitted to having sex with his mother. Another boy, who I ended up providing a great deal of support to afterwards, told me about his father coming into his bedroom almost every night since he was about five years old and having to perform oral sex on his father. A girl told me about a former boyfriend who introduced her to the kinky side of enemas. Oh, and this paper, if written well, can be fiction, but it had better be believable. Some people don’t have dark, dirty little secrets so they have to make them up. Tell me a good story and you get a good grade. Any questions?”
“Yeah, this sounds stupid,” a girl from the back row said. “I mean, I did this in junior high. This is college, we’re supposed to be doing more intellectual stuff than ‘what did you do last summer?’ ”
“Are you are?” Doctors Jeffers asked. Zach wondered if the good Doctor knew who these newbies were. It was almost of if he was setting up each one to make the worst mistake of their first day at college. To be in Doctor Jeffers’ English Comp class was so special the grade you received made a big difference right up to that last year when your advisor would look at it and decide whether you needed one extra challenge to prove yourself intellectually or you were just going to get by like nearly everyone else.
“Stacy Franklin and I want you to know my father is one of the most prominent attorneys in this city.”
“North Park?”
“No, silly, Seattle.”
Oh, god, thought Zach, he’s going to slice her head clean off and blood is going to spurt everywhere. She’s total defenseless now.
“Well, my dear child, this is not Seattle and your father may be the scion of one of the biggest Guernsey herds this side of Sheboygan, but that’s going be of little help now. You have a choice, stay and work your butt off trying to get better than the F you already have, or leave now and never cross my threshold again.”
“My father won’t stand for this,” Stacy said as she rose from her seat.
“You can tell Johnny, excuse me, your father, that I’ll expect his call.”
“You know my father?” The knife was slicing into her jugular. She didn’t have long now.
“He sometimes substitutes as my bridge partner at the club, but I prefer opposing as it’s fun watching him lose.”
Stacy stared at him as a tiny bit of recognition slipped from neuron to neuron as the signal to flee for her life took form. She picked up her backpack and slung it over a shoulder. She stared at the good Doctor once more then huffed out of the room with what had to be an exaggerated swing of her hips.
“Why they send me their daughters I’ll never know,” Doctor Jeffers said. “That was a fairly average performance, though, just might earn her a B plus for class participation, but to get an A you have to involve another student. Right, Sara?”
“Yes, sir,” Sara said, practically whispering.
“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” she whispered. “He’s always looking for the scab and picking at it.”
“It’s okay, I’ll buy you a chocolate soda,” Zach whispered. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“I need something more than that to make me feel better.”
“Hey, you two, no whispering in class,” Doctor Jeffers said. “If you can’t share it with the rest of the class, wait until after or share it with everyone else.”
“Yes, sir,” Zach said. He patted Sara’s knee and she looked back at him fluttering her eyelashes. He recognized that look. It was the same one Amy gave him when she wanted to go out to the campground at Glasgow Beach and make out which usually ended with her rubbing his dick and him coming all over her bare tummy.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, three down and how many more?” Doctor Jeffers said. “We’ll see tomorrow. I suggest getting busy on those papers right now because I can tell when a paper’s been rushed and will grade accordingly. ”
“Doctor Jeffers was in fine form today,” Sara said as she pulled into a parking space across Bellevue from the apartment.
“Planning on staying a while?” Zach asked.
“I want to see where you’re living. Is that okay?”
“Sure, no problem.”
They had hardly spoken all day, just a word here and there about this class or that, the professors’ seemingly ambivalent attitude toward the freshmen, and whether Bruce was going to ride with them or not. Zach didn’t care one way or the other because he was worried about what he was going to say to Jeremy about his sleeping with Bruce. The boy was bound to put two and two together as it was so obvious.
He was going to lose his boyfriend and he didn’t know what to do to prevent that from happening. His only answer was to somehow convince Bud it was very import he be given access to Jeremy. A face to face meeting was far better than trying to explain over the phone. Being there, he could get down on his knees and beg if necessary.
“It’ll be a little warm up there, though,” Zach said as he held the front door for Sara.
“Your mama must have taught you manners,” Sara said.
“Yeah.”
He followed her in and beat her to the elevator. For a moment he sensed a lightness in their immediacy, as if they’d been friends for years or maybe it was more like being closer to childhood and full adulthood. Whatever had changed between them, Zach bathed in its warmth while feeling very unsure.
The apartment was still cool when he unlocked the door and stood back to allow Sara to step inside.
“This is the foyer, such as it is,” Zach said. “We’re hoping the landlord will permit us to put a grand sweeping, spiral staircase as they are much more romantic.”
“Yes, I can see how that will improve the ambiance,” Sara said.
Zach’s attention was caught by a smooth patch of white skin behind her ear. A scar, maybe? Then he realized she was walking away from him, toward the living room.
“The kitchen is here, to the left,” he said behind her. “Can I get you anything?”
“You wouldn’t have anything iced tea, would you?”
“What country boy would be without iced tea?”
“Is yours sweetened?”
“No, I like mine a little sweeter than Bruce. I’m not certain he puts any sugar in his.”
“I like honey.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any.”
“Find a place to sit and I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Where’s the little girls room?”
“We don’t have one, but the little boys room is down the hall on the hall, second door on the left.”
Zach set about putting together their iced teas all the time wondering why he didn’t sneak off to the other bathroom to relieve himself, too. It wasn’t that he had to right now, but it was one of those things you shouldn’t put off. At least that’s what his mother always told him.
“You’ll ruin your kidneys not peeing when you should,” she’d say after he ran into the house with a wet spot forming in the crotch of his jeans.
“But, Mom, there’s no toilet out there,” he’d reply.
“Zach, we’ve got over six hundred acres. No one is going to see you peeing. If you’re that embarrassed, stand behind a cow. She won’t mind.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Did you wet yourself? Let me see.”
“Mom, I’ve got my …”
But, it was always too late, and she’d be swatting his bare butt with her hand and sending him off to his bedroom for a few hours.
“You only have one bed in your bedroom,” Sara said as he walked into the living room carry a tray with two glasses full of ice and tea, a honey bowl with a wooden dipper, a sugar bowl and three spoons, one for his sugar and two to stir.”
“How do you know one of us doesn’t sleep in the other bedroom?” Zach asked.
“Because that looks like a room in a gay whorehouse, if there is such a thing. I assume that is Paul’s bedroom. Is he moving in here, too?”
“No, I think he’s holding down the fort at the condo, pining away for when Uncle David will finally get out of the hospital. Did you like that painting over the bed?”
“You know what I think? I think that boy wants someone to fuck him.”
“Sara, such language.”
“Hey, I’ve been to Switzerland. I can swear in French and German. Come here, sit beside me.”
Zach set the tray down on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, close, but not too close, to Sara.
“Jeremy misses you.”
“Well, maybe next time he’ll think before opening his mouth around his grandfather. Bud’s a good guy and thankfully Uncle David was able to improve my position with him.”
“You’ve spoken to Grandfather, then?”
“Yes, yesterday. How’re you and Eb getting on these days?”
“He’s gone back to his boyfriend.”
“What? Darnel is gay?”
“Yeah, he was trying the other side of the street and when I didn’t put out like he wanted, he figured he could do better with the other boy. Do you swallow?”
“Yes,” Zach said somewhat startled by her question. It slipped into the conversation so easily, he was a little nervous about where they were heading. Sara solved that rather quickly.
“I did, once. Last summer I met a boy from Rennes who was visiting his great aunt or something and we hit it off almost immediately. François was so skinny I thought he was bulimic at first. It had something to do with his metabolism. He just couldn’t get fat. Can you imagine not having to worry about being fat, ever. We met on a Tuesday and he was in my pants Saturday night. Mother was somewhere with her boyfriend and the boys were busy doing something. François and I were in my bedroom making out on the bed. It was all so quick and unexpected. Suddenly we were naked and he was going down on me. Then he swings himself around and I’ve got his erection in my face. I put in my mouth and, well, one thing led to another and suddenly I’ve got a mouth full of cum. I swallowed. It’s not like I could spit it out. I don’t like the taste of it, though. Sunday night I gave him a condom and told him to put his penis where it belonged.”
“Wow, you have been around the block, haven’t you?”
“You had a girlfriend, didn’t you?”
Zach wasn’t surprised that question came up. She lived in the same house as Jeremy and there was no telling how much Jeremy had been listening all the times they’d talked and the subject of doing it with girls came up.
“Her name is Amy. She was the head cheerleader. I was the quarterback, who else was I supposed to date.”
“Is she, I mean, was she nice?”
“We probably would’ve gotten married if we ended up at the same college.”
“Did you have sex? You don’t have to tell me, I’m just curious. I told you about mine.”
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“No, we didn’t have sex. We necked, then I played with her tits, which were big, too big. Amy is what they call a full figured girl, but she was nice.”
“Do you like mine?” Sara asked.
Zach hadn’t been looking all that much at Sara while they were talking, concentrating more on his glass of iced tea, but now she had his full attention. Her t-shirt was gone, as was her bra. She was, in a word, naked, from the pants up.
“Show me what you did to Amy. You did touch them, didn’t you?”
Zach looked at Sara’s breasts, which were a lot smaller than Amy’s. Not too small, but nicely formed with small perky nipples that seemed to invite Zach to touch them. He put his hand on one and began to massage and knead it, pinching the nipple now and then, just the way Amy liked, just the way that made Amy want to do much the same thing with his dick.
Zach leaned over and put his mouth over the nearest one. He suckled for a moment or two then nibbled at nipple, pinching it between tongue and lips. He was so lost in what he was doing he didn’t notice a change in his own clothing until it was too late.
“Wow, Jeremy told me you had a great cock, but, Zach, he never told me it was this big. Did you ever, you know, put this in Amy?”
“No, she was a virgin and would stay a virgin until her wedding night,” Zach said as Sara’s finger stroked the length of his erection, sending mixed signals to his brain. One part was say, “Wow! This is great!”, while the other part was screaming, “She’s a girl! You’re gay! Stop this now!”
“Will you fuck me?” Sara asked.
Zach looked at her, his mouth agape in shock. Put his dick in that hole? Gay boys weren’t supposed to put their dicks between a girl’s legs, not even in her ass. It just wasn’t done.
“I’m on the pill, but you can use a condom if you want.”
“I, well, you know, why?”
“Come on, let’s go to the bedroom,” Sara said. She stood up and picked up her t-shirt and bra. She held out her hand. “Come on, big boy, I want to feel that thing of yours coming inside me.”
Zach watched Sara pull out of her parking spot and head toward the freeway. He kind of wished he could zone out like he did over the weekend because this was a very good time to go somewhere else. He’d actually fucked his boyfriend’s sister and he didn’t use a condom, either, just like guys do when they’re trying to make babies. Worse, yet, he like fucking Sara; and, not surprisingly, she seemed to enjoy having his dick in her cunt as well. Well, it had been her idea in the first place.
Afterwards, as they lay close, she played with his dick until it got hard, again.
“Do you want to try a different position?” She asked.
“Just rub it, please, I don’t think I’m in the mood to do that, again,” he said.
“I understand,” she said.
He knew she couldn’t possibly understand. She had no experience in such matters. She jerked him for awhile. Then she started nibbling at one of his nipples. Then she whispered in his ear something so disgusting, so humiliating, he had to do it, just to prove he wasn’t the pushover he knew she thought he was.
“Suck your cum out of my vagina,” Sara whispered. “Lap it up like a puppy. You’re a gay boy, remember? You like cum.”
After he’d come up from there, with a sickening feeling in his stomach from the taste of her, not him, she pushed him over and shoved her tongue down his throat, tasting his and her juices on his tongue.
They showered together, washing each other’s body. Then, as she was drying him, she took him down her throat.
“Didn’t know I could do that, did you?” Sara asked. “I lied when I said I’d swallowed cum only once. I knew a boy in the town where I went to school when I was fourteen. He was a nobody, but he was nice and bought me little trinkets and things. He did it first and, then, I did him. By Easter, I was deep-throating him. He tried to be special, but he’s probably a plumber’s helper, now. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere in that town.”
He asked, “What happens now?”
“Well, you can tell my brother, if you want to, but I’m not going to. Beg his forgiveness. Tell him you’re letting Bruce fuck you and you’re fucking me, but you know what?”
“What?”
“I think it would be cool to have Jeremy fucking you while you’re fucking me.”
Zach stared at the ceiling. He was going to remember the softness of her lips when he kissed her before she left. He felt sick and ran to the toilet where he vomited. He wondered, afterwards, if he could lower himself further, or if this was as depraved as he could get.
Yet, after all of this, after everything she’d done to him to grind him under her heel, he knew deep down in his heart that he didn’t know whether he was gay, bi, or just some screwed up teen who didn’t know which ass to follow, just as long as one of them made him come.
He set about to clean up the mess of them. He could still taste the tangy tartness of her on his tongue and it soured his stomach. The bed was torn down to the mattress pad and he put his nose to it. She was there, too. The smell of her place, that slash between her legs, lingered about the bedroom soiling the air. He found the air freshener Bruce bought and doused the room, but still the rank putridity of her pheromones burned his nose and watered his eyes.
He laughed suddenly as a remembrance of that smell, her smell, was not quite unlike his odor when Bruce fucked him. Yet, the smell after two guys had fucked did not dirty the air as much as her smell. He ran to the toilet and retched until there was nothing but bile. Even then, his stomach turned inside out and tried to heave itself out of his body. Tears filled his eyes, but nothing could take that odor from his nostrils.
Zach had everything in the laundry room when Bruce came in. He stood at the washing machine in a clean pair of boxers as he loaded the few clothes she’d touched. He heard Bruce behind him, but could not turn to face his friend.
“When I got to work today,” Bruce said, “Uncle Bill said they were slow and I could go home. He has a real girl down there some afternoons and I guess she’s a pretty good barista. So, I came home. Do you know what I saw?”
Zach hung his head and shook it slowly. A tear dribbled out of his right eye and he brushed it away with the back of his good hand.
“I was rather amazed to see the boy I made love to last night, even though that was, we agreed, only fooling around, fucking his boyfriend’s sister. I could see his blood swollen cock going in and out of her twat. They were moaning to each other. I just about puked. So, I left and went down to the Square, to Paul’s studio. He did some nude sketches of me. He’s good, you know that, though. Then we had sex and I fucked him and afterwards, because he hadn’t come, I sucked him, too. Are you listening to me?”
Zach couldn’t say anything. He didn’t feel worthy of talking to the one person in the whole world who might be able to save him from himself.
“I’m mad at you. I’m very fuckin’ pissed off at you, right now. Do you know I could hit you and you’d be dead before your body slumped to the floor? Do you know that? Are you going to say something? Zach!”
Zach felt himself being spun around as an astonished looked flashed across his face when he saw the anger in Bruce’s eyes. His head jerked to the right from the impact of the palm of a hand. His head jerked to the left as another palm slammed into his other cheek; and, another jerked it to the right. Tears welled up into his eyes and freely dribbled down his cheeks, but, still, he could not bring himself to acknowledge his pathetic state.
Zach felt his legs give out from under him and he slumped down into a ragged lump of flesh and bone on the floor. Tears were running down his face. His stomach started a new bout of dry heaves. He felt weak all over. Yet, still, he could smell her about him.
Bruce was watching the second season of the Sopranos when Zach walked out of the kitchen. He’d eaten the bowl of milk toast Bruce had prepared for him and at least his stomach felt better. He wanted to go to bed, but wasn’t certain he’d be welcome in that room ever again.
He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and shivered as a chill ran through him. He stood up and went to the window. It was open slightly and he pulled up the sash and leaned out to look down at the sidewalk. It would be so easy. Just let go and fall. His head would impact the concrete and he’d be dead before his feet landed on top of him. All he had to do was let go.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bruce screamed as he pulled Zach back from the precipice a split second before Death reached out to pull the boy into oblivion.
They landed in a heap on the floor, but Bruce was on top of Zach in a flash. Zach lay there quietly wondering why he’d been saved. There was no sense to what Bruce was doing.
“Damn it, Zach, I told you I was sorry I hit you,” Bruce said. “Why won’t you say something?”
“I’m sorry to have disappointed you,” Zach said. “I knew you wanted me to make love to you tonight, but I let her do that. I didn’t do anything to stop her. I could’ve said no, but I didn’t. And, you know what? For awhile there as I was building up to one of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever experienced, I was enjoying myself being inside her. I was enjoying the feel of her hands on my back. I was enjoying it.”
And, he was enjoying it. He was enjoying the feel of her vagina against the tender skin of his cock. He knew that was where a cock was meant to be when she welcomed him in and made him comfortable. It was so much different from that other place, that other hole shared by men and women where entry was never an invitation, but penetration, sometimes without an offer of assistance from the receiver.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Bruce said. “We’ll have to get up extra early to catch the College Flyer.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s best,” Zach said.
The alarm was set for half past four, but Zach was awake at three. Bruce’s cock was buried inside him making mini-thrusts to maintain its erection. He couldn’t remember exactly when entry occurred; and, half surmised entry was gained surreptitiously. Yet, he felt at ease with the cock in his ass. It gave him a strong sense of belonging to the other party, the owner of that stiff rod of excitement.
Bruce was breathing on his neck with even, measured breaths. Zach was uncertain whether he was awake, asleep, or in some form of Oriental mystic trance picked up from an obscure esoteric karate teacher. He’d heard about those Asian fighting disciplines and knew a lot of them had a great deal to do with the mystical religions those people practiced.
Unexpectedly, he felt two fingers pinch his right nipple. Pain shot through his body as fingers twisted sensitive skin. He was pushed onto his stomach and Bruce was on top holding him down as the tempo and forcefulness of the cock’s thrusts bore into his consciousness.
This was no dream for either of them. Reality was the cock in his ass seeking its own definition of pleasure whether he wanted to willingly participate, or not. Sharp agony shot out of his neck when teeth bit into his trapezium. He struggled to move, but was held firmly against the bed as the boy on top strove for the zenith of his arousal.
And, then, deep within himself Zach felt the change in sensory input coming from his ass. As if a switch had been thrown, his own cock quickened to a hard-on of unbelievable sensitivity. He felt his balls tighten against his body. Tiny muscles along the ejaculatory duct began driving sperm filled semen toward the nearest exit. He forced his cock into the bed as the first burst spewed forth.
Above him, the boy who started this early morning alternative to a wasteful emission began huffing and moaning as his own orgasm overpowered all other muscular intentions. In a moment of clarity, Zach felt the rock hard cock embedded in him throb and jerk as it injected doomed spermatozoa deep within the hot receptacle of his body.
The alarm jolted him awake and Zach sat up. Bruce was out of the bed and water could be heard splashing in the shower across the hall. His right nipple ached and a burning sensation antagonized his neck. His ass tingled and he knew it hadn’t been a dream.