It had been a long typical summer’s day. Started of fine nice and warm with a cool breeze and bit of cloud floating in the sky. I had decided that as it was the weekend I would go for a walk, nothing hard just a wander through one of the parks. The one I chose was about 10 miles from the nearest town, nice and remote with few people that went there and a few cottages scattered around the back country lanes. I wore a loose t-shirt and some baggy joggers with some loose fitting boxers. I packed up a little lunch and set off around 1 ish.I wasn’t very experienced with women, I had watched a lot of porn but I knew that didn’t count. I had always fancied bigger women though. Especially with large boobs and a big arse. I had always thought that where as everyone else saw the importance of having a nice tight pussy, I would prefer a looser wetter pussy. One that I could bury my face into and feel completely enclosed, a pussy that would completely soak my face that I could suck for ages, one that my cock wouldn’t feel squashed in but fit nicely and very wet and warm. I considered myself a little bit of a pervert really. I would often go swimming when it was full of women who were trying to get back into shape. I would swim next to them and often try and bump into them just to try and feel something I shouldn’t. I would stare at their big squashy tits bob about inside a loose fitting swim suite then rush back to the changing rooms just before they showered so I could see them shower.While sitting in this car with this woman I felt like that pervert again. I decided to make a little move. At the next lights I reached over to the glove compartment rubbing my arm against one of her tits while looking at them. I messed around in the glove box for a moment then exclaimed where is it and brushed back across her again. I looked her straight in the eye and smiled then drove on. My dick was fully hard now and clearly visible through my joggers.As we drove around the lanes I notice my fuel gauge was running low. We didn’t talk much but I kept looking at her. I was driving in a very low gear hoping the fuel would run out and I would spend more time with her. I little cock as fully hard now as I kept looking at her huge tits. Her nipples were hard and I kept thinking I wanted to suck on them. I would have reached out and started feeling them if I knew she wanted me too but I didn’t. I didn’t even notice her look at me I was concentrating on driving and looking. I imagined all the things that we could do if I had an opportunity. The way she sat made me thing that she liked to be in control. She was sat fairly straight up with her head back. The heater was on and she was drying herself out. She kept brushing her wet hair back and lifting her arms up while she stretched. This made her bust heave and look even bigger. I started to imagine what it would be like to have her. I wanted her to reach over and touch me anywhere but she didn’t.I thought that she would be a forceful lover; I wished that she would be. I wanted to be at her mercy in whatever she had me do. My little dick started to throb as I thought on. But my time was up the petrol run out.In the hall we stood there shivering for a few minutes while we waited for the heating to fire up. I was facing her with my hard little cock clearly visible through my soaked joggers. I decided to take my t shirt of as it was uncomfortable. I kept looking at her heaving tits, and I made it plainly obvious what I was doing. I was being a little perv again, and enjoying every minute of it. I didn’t care that she could have kicked me out I wanted her to realise that I fancied her and wanted her and that I was a dirty little wanker with no shame that would do anything. She didn’t kick me out. She moved a little closer and told me where the towels were and that if I wanted a shower I would have to put it on and wait for the water to heat up. My cock was almost touching her while she told me, I didn’t even look at her face I just stared at her chest as she told me. If I was to be kicked out I wanted to spunk in my joggers in front of her. I felt pathetic but also very horny and in with a chance. Then she walked away.I walked up the stairs and found a towel and walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on. ‘A short while’ I thought to myself so I started to explore up stairs. I could hear her walking around down stairs I could only imagine what she was doing. I assumed that she was on the phone as I heard moans and muffled tones from down stairs. As I was exploring up stairs I found her room. It was the only one of the four with a bed that was made in it. I entered still listening down stairs for her to make sure she wouldn’t catch me. I saw a pair of red panties on the floor next to the bed. If there was ever a chance to find out what her pussy smelt and tasted like I thought this was it. I didn’t care if she had pissed in them, I didn’t care about any of the dirty kinky fetish acts she was into. I wanted to be shown them all. I would try anything, especially for this big beautiful woman.I brought them up to my mouth and nose and breathed in deeply. Wow.Already undressed my little cock was throbbing painfully. I licked the crotch of her panties, they smelt musky and were very damp. I couldn’t tell if she had dribble a little piss into them but she had defiantly got them very wet either through fingering her clit or a fetish I hoped she had of pissing while having an orgasm. Either way I had them in my mouth sucking them and smelling them for a good few minutes. I then wrapped them around my dick which even though they were tiny panties they covered almost all of my cock, I felt pre cum oozing out of my dick I think I let out a loud moan but I wasn’t sure. But to be on the safe side I cucked them back onto the bed and ran back to the bathroom where I got into the shower. I didn’t even notice there wasn’t a dressing gown I just got in and warmed up for a good few minutes. I was after all very cold.As she turned around she moaned, mmmmm. That was it I knew this was going to happen right there and then and I couldn’t wait. I wanted to fuck her there and then but I didn’t as I wanted to take everything slowly so I could enjoy every minute. She told me that she had made a fire to warm us both and that the phones were down. I couldn’t help it, I wanted to look into her eyes but I couldn’t. She had turned around and was sitting in front of me with her knees slightly raised and apart she was leaning on her hand. I could still see her pussy which her other hand was resting on, and one of her tits was resting on her bulged belly while the other hung further to the side. Her pink nipples were very hard and quite big they stuck out a lot. I just stood there staring at her with my cock dripping pre cum in front of me it had lifted the towel right up. I hadn’t even noticed. She moved back around and stuck her big arse further out this time. Her legs were spread wide now her pussy was gaping. I grabbed my cock I couldn’t help it. I shot spunk all over her big arse. It was dripping down her crack onto her pussy. I heard her moan as it landed all over her arse. I watched her move her hand between her legs I didn’t even hear what she said, I didn’t even realise her hand was rubbing my pervert spunk into her loose wet pussy even though I was standing there staring.She opened her eyes still short of breath she told me she would make sure I made up for dribbling spunk out of my little dick all over her big arse.She turned around and kissed me, forcing her tongue into my mouth I realise she hadn’t swallowed any of my cum. She was laughing as she was kissing me but I kissed her back and this must have shocked her. She must have been hoping for me to spit it out as if it was one big joke and then leave but I enjoyed every minute. I was hers and I wanted to be forever.What was I doing I was sat in this woman’s bedroom, a woman I didn’t even know a few hours ago. We hadn’t even exchanged names. And I was in her little red panties waiting for her. I loved it. Go only knew what she had in store for the night.As she entered the bed room I watched her intently. She had put on a purple netted dress thing. Her nipples were sticking out and I could see her hairy pussy clearly. My dicklet was starting to pulse again it was only a matter of time before I was hard again. It was very sore though I had never wanked like this before. I was told to put some pegs on my nipples which I did with out argument. Secretly I wanked at home with them on I loved my nipples played with. She was holding a small bag and she went to the far end of the bed and placed it on the ground. This was strange but I was going along with this I wanted to see where this night would lead.She bent over the bag. Her heavy tits hung in the dress and her arse was in the air. Knees bent and her legs were open. That’s it my little cock was hard. Pushing against the tiny panties that my ‘boyhood’ barely filled. I couldn’t help it I got off the bed and stood behind her. Pressing the entrapped dick against her arse hole and my hands on my hips I started to rub up and down against her. She turned just enough to look at me out of the corner of her eye and told me very sternly to wait. She instructed me that because I was such a good cum eater she would let me take some things out of the bag. I walked around and picked it up.There were a few dildos, one looked very thick, some anal beads lube, a cock ring which looked too big and a funny looking battery thing which must be for her clit. I took out the anal beads as I always wanted to see them in a big arse. She bent over a chair and I poured lube all over her big arse. I spent a long time rubbing it in and into my dicklet through my panties. She moaned loudly as I massaged lube into her gaping pussy and around her arse hole.After fucking her self hard with this thick dildo she climbed back onto my dicklet and laughed as she fucked me again. Her pussy was very loose and wet it felt so good. She kept asking if it was in and if I had spunked. I told her I had.“Right” she said sternly, “you have a big cream pie to clean, and don’t forget the ass pie either, you’ll need to get very good at this”
My PervSynopsis: A memoir of the author’s BDSM life, beginning in childhood. The story is chronological, episodic,perverse and somewhat true. First chapters deal with his awakening interest in BDSM through childhood torture and tie-up games.This is the somewhat-true, somewhat-embellished story of my perverse sexual life. Some of the activity was probably illegal, though all was consensual except for the episodes in Chapter 1, “Pink Belly,” and Chapter 2, “Co-Op Candy.” I certainly don’t condone pedophilia, though we in the United States have an unnatural fear of childhood sexuality and much more is healthy and normal than we let on. How many of us had sexual experiences as kids that we would make us hot as we remember? Most of us, I imagine. When I was a kid, say from the age 9 or so, I was turned-on almost constantly. It was as if my whole body were a sexual organ receptive to sensual stimulation. Freud called this “polymorphous perversity,” and I was (and am) certainly a Perv. 1) PINK BELLY sadomasochism is the prevailing theme of this story. In my neighborhood on Long Island we engaged in a practice known as ‘pink belly’. Oddly enough, for all my years of reading bondage and S&M erotica on the web, I’ve never seen or read any reference to it. Administering a pink belly entailed two or three or four boys capturing another boy (I can’t remember any girl victims; girls outside of school.) The victim would be wrestled to the ground and held pull up the victim’s shirt and pull down his trousers to bare the tenderest part of his belly. Then the tormentor would start slapping the victim’s belly, at first gently but then with ever-increasing intensity. Soon the victim’s howls of protest would turn to howls of pain as the belly-spanking started belly had turned hot pink. Then the flushed, humiliated and sore victim would be released from captivity. Sometimes he would go off in a huff, maybe even crying. Sometimes he would join with the rest of the mob in spontaneously assaulting another victim. Interestingly, I can’t remember parents ever being told about the pink belly assaults, as if we all knew it was somehow shameful and forbidden and not to be talked about; very much like female rape victims for years did not talk about their own suffering; for Pink Belly was a kind of rape. For me the times of the Pink Belly carried a particularly delicious ambiguity. I loved administering a good Pink Belly, but I also loved receiving one. I loved the attention, the humiliation. I loved being stripped, held down and at any time I could have broken away from my assailants and done some real damage in self-defense. But I never did that. I always allowed myself to be taken and tormented. I had for years been teased for being overweight, and could see my shamefully-jiggling flesh, and the slaps of their hands rang through the neighborhood with my fat body as an oversized soundingboard. In fact, because I was so fleshy the boys often extended my pink bellies all the way up my chest to my large, soft breasts. They would twist my nipples, call me a girl and wail away. I would often rise up in tears from one of these punishment sessions, but I was also secretly proud of my suffering and of the fact that my friends showed me so much attention. I couldn’t run as fast as they could or climb as high, but I could suffer better than most, and suffering physical torment was the big guy I was also one of the primary tacklers and holders of other began the glorious years of “Naked T.” 2) CO-OP CANDY For several summers I had gone to a sleepover camp in the Catskills called Camp Wyandonic. It’s shocking to consider from the perspective of what we know today about diet and nutrition, but back then the camp used one very powerful inducement to good behavior on the part of the young campers: Co-op Candy. Every day, every child who was well-behaved received a chit for a candy bar, to be redeemed at the camp PX. This candy was called Co-op Candy, and the bribe certainly worked on me. I would get Mars Bars or Mounds or Turkish Taffy and have myself a little sweet feast after dinner each night. That is, until the day a bunch of the boys in the 9 year-old bunk decided to pull an Indian raid on the 9 year-old girls’ bunk. I wasn’t part of the planning, but once the raid began I participated enthusiastically. We really didn’t have much of a plan. All we had was a general notion and several feet of wire one of the boys had found. Armed with the wire we waited until the girls’ and boys’ counselors went off somewhere and then rushed into the girls’ bunk, capturing a pretty little redhead named, coincidentally, Candy. Candy was terrified as four or five masked boys descended on her and dragged her out of her bunk before the wide eyes of her female bunkmates. When she started to scream one of the boys clapped his hand over her mouth, muffling her protests and fearful cries. We dragged Candy into the woods near the boys’ bunk and quickly wired her to the tree, her back against the bark. Once she said ‘let’s take off her clothes and burn her at the stake’. With our puerile imaginations already aflame we all agreed this was a great idea. As some boys ran for wood for the fire, a couple of the bolder lads pulled her shirt out of her shorts and jerked it up over her wild and curly red hair, baring her…breasts! This girl had started to develop and even at nine she didn’t look like a boy on top. She had soft, pastel nipples and white, freckled skin. We all fell silent and gawked in awe. We were definitely in new and forbidden territory. of helpless female loveliness. I’d like to believe we would not have actually burned her at the stake. Fortunately, we’ll never know, because a posse of counselors arrived to save the captive maiden. Candy was freed, we were reprimanded severely and sent to our bunks. The next morning we were called before a tribunal who meted out our sentences. For the rest of the two-week session we would forfeit all our Co-op Candy, which would be given to little Candy to make up for her suffering. I was bitter about giving up the thing that made my stay at Wyandonic particularly worthwhile, but I was also humiliated at my poor judgment in becoming part of a lynch mob. I felt terrible for the little girl who was stripped and boyhandled so ruthlessly. I apologized to her privately and she graciously accepted my expression of shame and remorse. A couple of days later she had put the whole incident behind her, and in fact had become a hero because of what she endured, but mainly because she was undisputed Candy Queen of the camp. For me, however, the incident was not so easily forgotten, and, obviously, it remains with me to this day, several decades later. What I realized at the tender age of nine was that, even though I felt sorry for the fear and pain I caused her, my stronger emotion was not sympathy but empathy; I wanted the victim to be not Candy, but me. I wanted to be the one thrust against the tree, made helpless, teased and tormented and even stripped. I imagined myself not just topless but naked, my shorts and underpants pulled down and off my legs, my shoes and socks stripped off, my arms released so my shirt could be pulled away from me. I imagined my wrists pinned against my back and bound again with wire. I imagined myself gagged with my t-shirt, perhaps blindfolded, and then dragged, helpless, deep into the woods for some abominable and unknown ritual. I imagined the boys poking fun at my little penis and perhaps hitting me with switches torn from the trees. Then, suddenly, they would disappear and I would be alone in the silence. Through my gag I would cry out a muffled “guys?” But nobody would answer. I would realize I had been abandoned and would begin to struggle with my bonds. However, before I could get free I would hear voices, and soon, I would realize, They would giggle and mock, and once or twice someone would slash me with a branch. I would howl in pain and dance, which would humiliate me more, because one of the girls would say “look at his thing bounce!” Then silently, they would all disappear into the woods and I would be alone again. Eventually I would free my hands and pull off the blindfold and gag. I would cover my genitals with my t-shirt and stumble back to the camp on my tender bare feet. At my bunk I would come upon the gang of gang of boys and girls who were having a field day mocking and teasing me. I would try to rush into my bunk, back, but the boys would refuse. Then the leader would offer me a devil’s bargain, the kind I have come to love and need in my life: “If you want your clothes, drop that shirt, and stand between these trees.” After my useless protests I would, indeed, release the shirt covering my penis. Replacing the shirt with my hand, I would, as directed, move between two saplings a few feet apart. Within seconds, dazed, I would be standing spread-eagled between the trees, fastened hand and foot stark naked. Now the ritual of humiliation and torment would intensify. The leader of the boys would say “let’s all be Indians, and he’s a white man we captured. Before we burn him at the stake we have to torture him.” The group would agree enthusiastically, boys and girls. When I would cry out in protest a couple of the boys would gag me once again. Then the lead boy would say, “We all have to take our shirts off.” One of the girls would say “even us?” The buys would insist, and all my assailants would remove their tops. At this point, even in my pain and fear, I would have eyes only for the bare-chested girls, and my fear would become strongly mingled with desire. Then the leader would say “the squaws always start the torture. You can have him for a half hour; they we’ll really make him suffer before we scalp him.” The girls would agree and the boys would disappear into the woods. The girls, perhaps less gifted at this age than the boys, would discuss their options as torturers. Eventually they would decide to beat me with branches, four of them simultaneously. They would find whippy, light branches, and would position themselves two behind me and two in front. At a signal from the little bare-breasted redhead, Candy, they would begin beating me, quickly bringing up welts on my soft, pale skin. I would writhe and sob, struggling in vain to break free. It would seem hopeless. Then the dinner bell would ring. Suddenly the mood would be broken. The girls would drop their sticks, pull on their shirts and make for the mess hall. I would try to call to them to free me, but through my gag I would make no sense. Candy would understand, however, and would linger behind after the girls had gone. She would stare at me, wide-eyed, her naked chest heaving, her ribs showing through her fine porcelain skin. We would both be gasping and gleaming with sweat. Then she would step up to me and say, “I’m sorry.” Gently, with her fingers she would trace the welts on my chest and belly and thighs. Her hand would brush my penis. She would look me in the eyes and say, meekly, “may I touch it?” I would nod and close my eyes, throwing my head back. Candy’s soft hand would reach for my penis. She would hold it and lift it, staring in wonder. “The skin is so soft.” She would gently move the skin on the side of my shaft. And even though I was only nine years old, I would begin to erect. Eventually she would have learned all she cared to know at that time of her life, and she would release me from her hands and from my bonds. But (metaphorically) I would be helpless in her hands for the rest of my life. In love, as in politics, when I had lost weight, gained muscle and would stand tall and tough. Dozens of times I would hold beautiful girls helpless and would cause them be the victim. I would hate the pain, the humiliation and the helplessness, but love the pain-giver and the erotic charge she (or he) transmitted to me. And now, even after decades, I still find new ways to become a mortified 9-year, stripped before friends or strangers, spread and scrutinized, flogged, beaten, insulted and powerfully, powerfully aroused. It’s particularly good when at and highly-imaginative redhead. I love her soft, pink nipples and her sparse pubic bush; and I particularly love the way her white skin is vividly decorated with welts. And if the redhead is a he (rather than a brunette or blonde he) I find myself yielding more or trying harder to please, despite my natural reluctance to submit to a man. There’s just something about the vulnerability of redheads that always turns me on, even when they’re torturing me ruthlessly. But redheads are a relative rarity in my life. Most of my sexual activity has been with steamy dark-haired types, several of whom, when I was young at least, were my cousins. 3) “NAKED T” (Tease for Chapter 3.) I didn’t tell you earlier, but my name is Ted, or Teddy. “Naked T” could quite accurately refer to “Naked Teddy”; but, actually, it’s the name my cousin Arthur and I made up for a game we played for several years, and it properly stands for “Naked Torture.” AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you’d like to read more about my sexual exploits, please let me know. Chapter 3: “Naked T” About a year and a half after the attempt to burn little Candy at the stake at 0camp (see “Co-op Candy”) the era of “Naked T” began. I was about 11 and my cousin Arthur was 13. Arthur was scrappy and street smart; I was passive and naïve. Arthur was sexually precocious; I was just starting to feel my hormones flow. Arthur was already about 6 feet tall; he towered over me. Because he was my big cousin, I was always flattered whenFor example, Arthur liked to wrestle me down and give me Pink Bellies, often in the presence of his sister, my cousin Meg, who was a couple of months older than I but in the same grade I was in, and my cousin Nelly, who was exactly my age. Arthur and Meg’s family lived right next door to Nelly’s family, about three or four miles from my family in Flushing. All our families would gather regularly (Arthur and Meg’s father was my father’s brother, and Nelly’s mother was my father’s kid sister.) The parents would gather in the living room of one or the other house, and the kids would run off into their private world. When we were hosts that private world was often either the attic or the cellar. boards on the floors, raw insulation between the ceiling studs and many 2×4 or 4×4 cross-braces above, that some day my father might get around to enclosing to create a drop ceiling (he never did.) In the attic we would play with my train set or construct forts, sometimes jails. We might play tag, with the losers thrown into the jail made of boards or even old blankets. The play wasThe basement was quite a different environment. It was always damp, Flushing being on Long Island and water never being far below the surface of the ground. It was moldy, dank, creepy, like the torture chambers I was beginning to read about in gothic literature. Everything stored in the basement rotted or rusted. Like the attic, the basement had never been finished. Instead my father, quite the handyman, had driven hundreds of nails into the exposed floor joists from the first floor above. From the nails hung tools, ropes, chains, electric extension or boxed in the attic. Also in the basement were several parallel clothes lines stretching from right near the furnace on the edge to one of the steel and concrete pillars in the middle of this broad space. The pillars supported the house. Before long they would be used to restrain me. dark. Meg was wiry, Nelly was soft and curvy. Soon I would develop a crush on them both. However, Arthur was much more my playmate. Meg might take a violin lesson after school; Nelly was a Girl Scout; Arthur would hop on his bike and ride to my house, or vice-versa. My house was preferred because both my parents worked, so the place was empty every afternoon. Arthur’s mom was a housewife, so Arthur rarely got any privacy at home. The play we got into required privacy. I think I suggested it, but I could be wrong. The game evolved over time, but not long after we started it we began calling it “Naked T,” for ‘naked torture’. Most often it began with a boxing match in the attic. I had been given two pairs of boxing gloves for Christmas; maybe they came from Arthur or his family. We kept the gloves hanging from a nail in the attic. We would climb those steep stairs, which I began to think of after a while as my ‘last mile’. Initially we would both take off our shirts. After a few sessions Arthur would keep his shirt on and only mine would come off. Then we decided on a ‘progressive’ format in which the results from previous boxing matches would carry over to the current match, with the past loser starting at a greater disadvantage this time. Eventually this would mean Arthur would start fullyBasically, the game was a strip boxing match, the winner of which got to punish the loser in any way he saw fit. The match would be several rounds and of clothing. But as I said, it didn’t take long in the history of ‘Naked T’ before I would always be naked. Each time I would agree to the conditions and rules, maintaining the pretense that this time I would whip Arthur and win back my dignity and my clothes. But in reality I probably could have won at any time. I was big and strong, shorter and younger but heavier than Arthur. The think is, I didn’t want to win. I loved being naked while my older cousin would throw myself to the ground. This would be a ‘knockdown’, and I would have to pay the consequences. Humiliated, I would kneel at his command or rise to my feet. Arthur would tie my hands behind me if he was going to transport me to another part of my big, empty house. Or he would make me stretch and spread and would tie my arms above my head and wide to the overhead beams. Then he would tie my legs spreadThe first time Arthur tied me like this he put the boxing gloves back on and began to ‘work me over’, as he said. This was a term from some crime movie he liked, in which the thugs beat up the hero. I liked this term too; to this helpless while someone systematically beats me. Arthur had me tightly tied. Then he began punching me in the stomach and chest, ‘working me over’ with increasing intensity. Eventually I would cry for mercy and Arthur would move around behind me, punching my back and shoulders and buttocks. Within a few minutes I would be red from the beating front and back and Arthur would offer me a choice of five more minutes as a human punching bag or ‘three lashes with gave. Arthur would strip off his belt, step back behind me or step around in front of me, and lay on the punishment, usually leaving me with half inch-wide abrasions that took several days to fade. Fortunately my public school didn’t have a gym or locker rooms so none of my teachers or classmates ever saw me Arthur. But some secrets are difficult to keep. From the very first episode of ‘Naked T’, I would get somewhat aroused from my exposure and beatings and my little penis would thicken and extend. I thought it particularly unfair, therefore, when Arthur would constantly refer to me his friends, in front of his sister, even in front of his parents. When he first said it before them, his father, my uncle, slapped him hard across the face. Arthur looked stunned and began to cry. I smirked at this poetic justice. The next episode of ‘Naked T’ was particularly brutal and I learned not to harder and for longer periods. Arthur might say ‘get rid of that’ and whack my extended penis with his belt. I would yelp and the tears would flow. Then one day about a month or so after what might have been the fourth session I was working on a little woodshop project in the basement. I had a board clamped to the work table and was sanding it. Somehow the vibrating sanding machine touched my groin and I knew I was on to something. I had been practicing self-bondage for several months, since just after the first session of ‘Naked T’. Since I was alone in the house I added an extension cord to the sanding machine and carried it over to my mother’s clothes lines a few feet away. I unclamped the sand paper from the sanding surface of the machine. I found a length of rope and fed it through the clamp at the front of the sanding machine that was used to hold the strips of sand paper to the vibrating surface. Then I stripped off my clothes. I carefully tied the rope around my waist, dangling the sanding machine directly over my penis. I switched on the vibrating machine, and instantly felt a surge of pleasure between my legs, and a tingle of forbidden excitement climbing right up through my body to my head, which began to buzz. Sensing that something momentous was about to happen, I quickly reached up, took two of the parallel lines of clothesline rope hanging above my head, wound them around one another and inserted my wrists between the twists of rope. Suddenly, I was helpless. But I was getting scared. Desperately, I tried to free my hands, but I couldn’t do it. Then I felt a great rush of pleasure and white liquid began to spurt from my hardened penis. I was shocked! I wondered whether the vibrations had turned my pee a milky white. I was frightened that I had damaged myself. I struggled with my bondage and eventually freed my bound wrists, switched off the machine and wiped up the mess. Soon I realized I hadI was extremely eager to share this mysterious experience with my cousin Artie, as he now liked to be called. Artie came over, I took him to the basement and told him what happened. He laughed mockingly at my confusion and ignorance: “So! Needle dick finally had an orgasm!” I was furious at him for belittling me, but he demanded that I let him tie me as I had tied myself a few days earlier. Reluctantly (eagerly!) I agreed. Soon I was naked and strung up, but as arranged around my waist and flipped the switch to on. Immediately I started to erect and orgasm was not far away. I groaned and started to pump my hips forward as if trying to intensify the experience. As my breathing grew heavy I watched Artie pull his belt from around his waist. Immediately he began beating me with it across the chest and belly. On the third slash I screamed in pain and pleasure and came. I stood there, drained and in pain. I begged Artie to turn off the machine, because my penis was now extremely sensitive (and it always is right after I cum. For instance, I can’t stand to have my dick tip licked post-orgasm.) Artie just sneered at me. He opened his fly, pulled out his prick, moved up close to me and, after a few jerks, spurted his cum over my belly, over the machine and onto my legs. I was fascinated and disgusted. I struggled to free the infernal machine, Artie went to the laundry area, found a towel and cleaned himself off. He zipped his fly and started puttering around the basement as I begged in vain for mercy. Then I heard him call out, “Hey! I found something!” He came over to me and held up a tube of airplane glue before my eyes. “I wonder what this would do to you?” I shook my head ‘no’, but Artie was inspired. He turned off the cum-covered sanding machine and removed it from my penis. I felt tremendous relief, but it lasted only for a moment. Artie unscrewed the tube of glue, stepped up to me and squeezed the glue onto my balls. For an instant the glue felt cool. Artie took a small piece of wood from the floor and began to spread the glue over my scrotum. And then the fire began. I had become used to pain over the past few months, but this was unparalleled and unbearable, a roaring, searing heat. I bellowed in fear and agony, jerking wildly at the bonds holding my arms was seriously amiss. He ran to the laundry area, wet the towel he had used a few minutes earlier, and put a cold compress over my balls. This helped a little bit, but the pain, more intense than I had ever felt, lasted more than a half hour, during which time Artie held a compress of ice cubes over my tortured sac. Still he had not released me. My pain and my relief were both entirely in his hands. Finally, just minutes before my parents walked in the door, Artie let me down. Furious, I lashed out at him, but he just danced away and laughed. Then he marched up the stairs and out of the house. I could hear him kick up the kickstand on his bike and ride away down the driveway, leaving me to cleanse myself and the floor of cum. I pulled my pants over my still-burning crotch just as my mom called to me. Red-faced and aching I climbed the stairs. Mom told me she met my cousin in the driveway and said Artie told her I was a little ‘burned up’ at him over something or other. I got the joke, but I wasn’t laughing. Mom proceeded to lecture me on not being rude to my cousin. Dinner was hell, and I was relieved to be allowed to take my plate to the kitchen and head upstairs to do my homework. However, I found it extremely difficult to concentrate that night, instead playing over in my mind my helplessness orgasm, just as I had been a week earlier, the first time in my life I had come. I think my twisted sexuality sprouted from those two first spillings of having a vibrator or some other device used on me against my will, forcing me to come when I wanted control and delay. How many times have women I desperately wanted to enter instead tied me up and made me spurt my seed into a towel, on the floor, on the ground in the woods or sometimes into my own face? How many times have I become a human party trick, bound and forced to orgasm for a group of friends and strangers? How many times have I been warned not to come and then been strapped when I couldAnd perhaps my ultimate machine-force is the one in which I am bound and attached to a milking machine in an old barn. Cattle on either side contentedly chew their cud. Farmhands, men, women, girls and boys, casually go about their business. And I am helpless, my pleas ignored, as my machine jerks me to repeated Orgasm. In my fantasy I am a celebrity, maybe a rock star, captured for my sperm, which will be sold on the black market. Each day I am milked, rubbed not let me come until the next time the lubricated sucking device is slid over my hard penis. Then the girls will mock me and dance naked before my eyes as the inevitable climax approaches. The girls will be sweet or taunting, soft or cruel. They will kiss me or whip me, suck my nipples or slide their fingers up my ass. Then can be whatever they want, but I can only be a sperm-slave. Eventually all the orders for my stolen sperm will be filled, and I will be thrown from a car, blindfolded, handcuffed and naked, my body covered with welts, a hundred miles from the secret location of my relentless drainings and humiliation. And I will be endlessly frustrated because I will never be able to find my way back for more. More to come, including my adolescent purchase of John Willy’s “Sweet Gwendolyn,” its writing this story, but please give feedback; so far I’ve heard almost nothing from readers of “My Perv.” Reader comments, pro or con, or reader suggestions, are greatly appreciated and very helpful. Thanks, Tough93013
Souvent, le soir, il m’arrivait de me masturber en pensant des beaux mecs de mon cole. Je m’imaginais en leur compagnie, poil, devant eux… Plusieurs me faisaient bander au maximum et j’avais beau essayer de ne pas les regarder, je ne pouvais m’emp cher de les d vorer des yeux. Un jour, lors d’un party chez un des beaux mecs qui s’appelait Beno t, je m’amusais d fier les autres de boire le plus possible. Certains participaient, d’autres non. Le party tait en fait un party entre gars, pour se “reposer” des filles… Et ces beaux m les sont rapidement venus en manque de sexe. Un beau blond aux yeux verts eut la brillante id e de mettre un bon film XXX dans le vid o pour permettre tous de se satisfaire un peu. Les gars ont commenc bander, on voyait leurs queues dans leurs pantalons qui grossissaient vue d’oeil. Quelques uns massaient leur engin, d’autres tentaient de la cacher. Mais Beno t, un petit homme tr s bien fait, sugg ra aux gars de se mettre poil: “On a d j vu a une queue, a va mieux aller pour se crosser!” Faut-il dire qu’il avait pris un peu d’alcool. Mais tout le monde lui ob it. Nous devions tre une dizaine poil, band s, les uns c t des autres. Je d cidai donc d’engager la cadence et je me mis me crosser vivement. Les autres embarqu rent tour tour. C’ tait le paradis: plein de queues band es, des beaux mecs bien faits que je voyais se crosser… L’excitation me traversait comme un norme frisson. Soudain, je sentis quelqu’un derri re moi. Je ne me retournai pas et fit semblant de rien. Mais le gars s’approcha de moi et ins ra sa bite dans ma raie et saisit mon p nis couvert de pr -sperme. Il commen a me branler et me branler encore. Je me retournai et je vis qu’il s’agissait de Beno t, ce beau mec bandant sur lequel je passait des soir es me crosser, il tait l me branler le membre! Et un autre beau mec, celui dont r vaient toutes les filles, s’agenouilla devant moi et pris ma queue dans sa bouche. Il me su a comme un dieu. On aurait jur qu’il avait toujours fait a! Tout coup, je sentis une douleur dans mon trou de cul: Beno t me p n trait. Il resta un moment immobile dans moi et se mit ensuite aller et venir tr s rapidement. Il me dit: “Pr pare-toi mon beau, tu vas recevoir du bon jus!” Et il d versa son sperme dans mon cul. Je jouissais comme jamais auparavant. Ma queue fut alors secou e de spasmes et je dit au mec qui me su ait: “Mon beau, j’esp re que t’as soif, tu vas avoir tout avaler!” Et ce beau gar on avala tout, juste avant de remonter vers moi et de m’embrasser. Les autres mecs, eux, nous regardaient la fois timides et envieux. Certains avaient d j jacul parterre et d’autres allaient bient t le faire. Beno t sugg ra alors de faire une bonne brochette. Certains timides ont d tre forc s, mais la plupart des gars se sont enlign s et encul s. Sous la commande de Ben, tout le monde avan ait et reculait en m me temps. Eh oui, dix beaux mecs enlign s qui s’ jaculent dans le cul! Une soir e inoubliable. Apr s tout cela, certains n’avaient toujours pas jacul . J’ai donc propos de les crosser et de recueillir leur sperme dans un verre. Le m lange de tous ces spermes allait tre bu par le mec la plus petite queue. R sultat, la potion magique a t bue par le un beau brun b ti avec une petite queue, mais bien bonne et juteuse… Un autre party tait pr vu pour la semaine suivante… vos queues, pr ts, venez!
Fantasy , Anal, Blowjob, Boy, Boy / Boy, First Time, Incest, Interracial, School, Teen, Young Posted: 2009-05-0718:15:42 Report Author’s infos Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: Earth Introduction: A virgin who is about as pervy as it gets, my… this should be altered. This story involves two fourteen year old boys, and one thirteen year old boy having sex. It also involves a middle school band class. You know what it’s about, so if you leave comments saying that I’m a sick son of a bitch, I’ll know just how ignorant you are. Alec was, for lack of another word, a pervert. He wasn’t always so… flirtatious, but after he went into the eighth grade, he decided it was the best way to make friends. Because you know, who doesn’t like a bisexual sex hound? He’s about 5’7, and Greek. His face is round, yet gaunt, never with a blemish. His hair is of course, that classic Greek/Middle Eastern type of hair. He’s not only a band nerd, and a pervert, but a track star, and he sort of has the track shape to his body. His brother, Eddy was quite a bit like his older brother, but not nearly as perverted. He’s much more of a band nerd, starring as the 7th grade’s best trombone. His brother Alec, stars as the 8th grade’s best alto sax. Eddy is about 5’5, and looks similar to his brother. Except his hair is more of the normal European, and cut in the ‘90s boy haircut style. His body type is a lot like his brother’s, except maybe a bit less lean like a track star, and more feminine. Enough with the long, boring introduction. Nate met Alec through band in 7th grade, and soon they became rather close friends. However in 8th grade, when Alec decided he was going to try and disturb everyone in the school, they grew a bit apart. Because of this, Alec was maybe more sexual to Nate than he was anyone else. He’d always had a bit of a crush on Nate, and when he’s already being a pervert to everyone else, isn’t that the perfect excuse to make an advance towards Nate? On a day not unlike any other, Nate was walking away from his psychotic Math teacher’s class and towards his uptight, high strung meterosexual band teacher’s class. He’s come to rationalize this as a good tradeoff, because even though if you ask him he’ll never say so, playing the tenor sax every morning has really grown on him. As he walks down the hallway to the band room, he hears Andre’s peculiar foreign voice somewhere behind him, obviously making some sort of perverted comment to some unsuspecting young lady. “Oi vey,” he thinks, then ponders why he always thinks “Oh my” in French. “Nate!” Alec screams as he runs towards and grabs Nate from behind. “You’re just too sexy from behind,” he whispers in his ear. “God, Alec… just keep it in your pants, dude.” Nate shoots back, breaking the unwelcome embrace. “I'm sorry you're just so sexy!” Nate walks into the band room, and slowly starts off to the little corner of the room where his sax hides. He puts it on one step, and sits on his knees on the other, then hears the eccentric little band director yell “No instruments! We're watching a movie!” Evidently, he had a migraine.
Man, just look at her. That’s my sister in law, Carol. Does she know that I have wanted to suck her tits and slip my cock between her lips for all these years? Sometimes I think she knows; she is, of course, far too straight-laced to let it show, or EVER act upon any feelings (which are probably just in my head anyway). Does she know? Carol is about 45, about 13 years older than I am, but I have wanted to fuck her ever since I first saw her about 15 years ago. Sometimes, if I am at home alone when she happens to call looking for her sister, I will jerk off while I am talking to her! Can she hear my heaving breath when I cum? I have fantasies about going to her house, when her pathetic husband Jim is gone, (The stupid prick! Why does he deserve a woman like that?!) to drive her to a school function. Did I mention that Carol is a teacher? Yeah, physical education…she is in stunning shape. Anyway, when I reach her house the door is open and a note tells me that she will be ready as quickly as possible. As I enter the house I realize that her husband and kids are gone and she is in her bedroom, dressing. Did she know I would be alone? I can’t help myself, as I creep down the hallway toward her bedroom, I can see her shadow on the wall and the outline of her breasts tells me that she isn’t very far along in getting dressed. I summon all the courage I have and peek around the door frame and into her bedroom. She is facing away from the door, completely naked! She is just beginning to put on her sheer black hose…they only come up to her thigh…God! I love that! Soon, she has both her luscious legs half covered in the silky black nylons, but she continues to look at the opposite side of the room. Did she know I was there? Then, suddenly… “Are you just going to stare at my ass, or are you going to get over here and fuck it?” YES!! I practically ran across the room to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, but it was fleeting contact; she turned to face me quickly and slide down to sit on the edge of her bed, her legs spread wide as she pulled me toward her and began unzipping my pants. I couldn’t wait for her to get to my cock, so I grabbed pants and jerked them down past my hips so quickly that my cock bounced against her face and swayed in front of her wet, soft lips. She didn’t waste any time sucking my rod deep into her throat and I almost came on the spot! I could not believe that Carol was sucking my cock! There was no teasing… just hard head bobbing and I wasn’t going to last long! She popped my cock out of her mouth and said, “Jim…” (suck, suck) “will be…” (suck, suck, suck)…”right back!” Then, she sped up the assault on my cock and I had every intention of blowing my load deep in her throat and on her face, before her husband came back! Talk to bored housewives willing to cheat! Neglected wives home all alone – They want your company! Then, she stopped sucking my cock as quickly as she had begun, turned away from me, onto the bed and pushed her ass up toward me. “Fuck my ass, now!” she hissed. How could I say no?? I slid my pants the rest of the way off and climbed up onto the bed and toward that puckered piece of heaven I knew was waiting for me. I could see that her ass was already smeared with lubricant. She knew this was going to happen! “Be gentle…” she whispered, “I have never done this.” Wow! I was going to pop a virgin ass that just happened to belong to Carol, who I have been drooling over for years! My cock was touching her asshole, but I hadn’t started applying any pressure (Carol was tense and I didn’t want to hurt her) when, we suddenly heard her husband’s truck coming into the driveway. Damn! I had to get out of her bedroom, quick! But, before I could back down off her bed, Carol slammed back against me and my cock slipped completely into her dark, hot tunnel! Carol screamed as my balls slammed against her pussy and my cock buried to the hilt in her ass. “Fuck it! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass!” I rammed my cock into her ass, over and over until the tight dark hole won and I shot a hot load of cum deep into her bowels! Carol squeezed her ass hard to prevent my cock from sliding out, and grabbed my pants to keep me from backing away from her,but I had to get out of her bedroom quick! I ran back down the hallway, zipping my pants as I went, trying to get to the family room before Jim did, but as I passed a window that looks toward the family garage, I saw Jim in the garage. Did Carol know he wouldn’t come right into the house?
Man, just look at her. That’s my sister in law, Carol. Does sheknow that I have wanted to suck her tits and slip my cock betweenher lips for all these years? Sometimes I think she knows; sheis, of course, far too straight-laced to let it show, or EVER actupon any feelings (which are probably just in my head anyway).Does she know? Carol is about 45, about 13 years older than Iam, but I have wanted to fuck her ever since I first saw herabout 15 years ago. Sometimes, if I am at home alone when shehappens to call looking for her sister, I will jerk off while Iam talking to her! Can she hear my heaving breath when I cum? Ihave fantasies about going to her house, when her pathetichusband Jim is gone, (The stupid prick! Why does he deserve awoman like that?!) to drive her to a school function. Did I mention that Carol is a teacher? Yeah, physical education…she is in stunning shape. Anyway, when I reach her house the door is open and a note tells me that she will be ready as quickly as possible. As I enter the house I realize that her husband and kids are gone and she is in her bedroom, dressing. Did she know I would be alone? I can’t help myself, as I creep down the hallway toward her bedroom, I can see her shadow on the wall and the outline of her breasts tells me that she isn’t very far along in getting dressed. I summon all the courage I have and peek around the door frame and into her bedroom. She is facing away from the door, completely naked! She is just beginning to put on her sheer black hose…they only come up to her thigh…God! I love that! Soon, she has both her luscious legs half covered in the silky black nylons, but she continues to look at the opposite side of the room. Did she know I was there? Then, suddenly… “Are you just going to stare at my ass, or are you going to get over here and fuck it?” YES!! I practically ran across the room to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, but it was fleeting contact; she turned to face me quickly and slide down to sit on the edge of her bed, her legs spread wide as she pulled me toward her and began unzipping my pants. I couldn’t wait for her to get to my cock, so I grabbed pants and jerked them down past my hips so quickly that my cock bounced against her face and swayed in front of her wet, soft lips. She didn’t waste any time sucking my rod deep into her throat and I almost came on the spot! I could not believe that Carol was sucking my cock! There was no teasing… just hard head bobbing and I wasn’t going to last long! She popped my cock out of her mouth and said, “Jim…” (suck, suck) “will be…” (suck, suck, suck)…”right back!” Then, she sped up the assault on my cock and I had every intention of blowing my load deep in her throat and on her face, before her husband came back!Then, she stopped sucking my cock as quickly as she had begun, turned away from me, onto the bed and pushed her ass up toward me. “Fuck my ass, now!” she hissed. How could I say no?? I slid my pants the rest of the way off and climbed up onto the bed and toward that puckered piece of heaven I knew was waiting for me. I could see that her ass was already smeared with lubricant. She knew this was going to happen! “Be gentle…”she whispered, “I have never done this.” Wow! I was going to pop a virgin ass that just happened to belong to Carol, who I have been drooling over for years! My cock was touching her asshole, but I hadn’t started applying any pressure (Carol was tense and I didn’t want to hurt her) when, we suddenly heard her husband’s truck coming into the driveway. Damn! I had to get out of her bedroom, quick! But, before I could back down off her bed, Carol slammed back against me and my cock slipped completely into her dark, hot tunnel! Carol screamed as my balls slammed against her pussy and my cock buried to the hilt in her ass. “Fuck it! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass!” I rammed my cock into her ass, over and over until the tight dark hole won and I shot a hot load of cum deep into her bowels! Carol squeezed her ass hard to prevent my cock from sliding out, and grabbed my pants to keep me from backing away from her,but I had to get out of her bedroom quick! I ran back down the hallway, zipping my pants as I went, trying to get to the family room before Jim did, but as I passed a window that looks toward the family garage, I saw Jim in the garage. Did Carol know he wouldn’t come right into the house?
Fantasy , Anal, Blowjob, Boy, Boy / Boy, First Time, Incest, Interracial, School, Teen, Young Posted: 2009-05-0718:15:42 Report Author’s infos Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: Earth Introduction: A virgin who is about as pervy as it gets, my… this should be altered. This story involves two fourteen year old boys, and one thirteen year old boy having sex. It also involves a middle school band class. You know what it’s about, so if you leave comments saying that I’m a sick son of a bitch, I’ll know just how ignorant you are. Alec was, for lack of another word, a pervert. He wasn’t always so… flirtatious, but after he went into the eighth grade, he decided it was the best way to make friends. Because you know, who doesn’t like a bisexual sex hound? He’s about 5’7, and Greek. His face is round, yet gaunt, never with a blemish. His hair is of course, that classic Greek/Middle Eastern type of hair. He’s not only a band nerd, and a pervert, but a track star, and he sort of has the track shape to his body. His brother, Eddy was quite a bit like his older brother, but not nearly as perverted. He’s much more of a band nerd, starring as the 7th grade’s best trombone. His brother Alec, stars as the 8th grade’s best alto sax. Eddy is about 5’5, and looks similar to his brother. Except his hair is more of the normal European, and cut in the ‘90s boy haircut style. His body type is a lot like his brother’s, except maybe a bit less lean like a track star, and more feminine. And lastly, Nate. Nate is one quarter Italian and three quarters German. If you ask, he’ll jokingly call himself “The perfect German,” as to when his family moved to America–after slavery was abolished, but before Hitler went and exterminated all the Jews. He’s about 5’6, and isn’t all that athletic. Not to say that he isn’t fit, he just doesn’t try. His body is just, American, not looking like it belongs to someone his age. Enough with the long, boring introduction. Nate met Alec through band in 7th grade, and soon they became rather close friends. However in 8th grade, when Alec decided he was going to try and disturb everyone in the school, they grew a bit apart. Because of this, Alec was maybe more sexual to Nate than he was anyone else. He’d always had a bit of a crush on Nate, and when he’s already being a pervert to everyone else, isn’t that the perfect excuse to make an advance towards Nate? On a day not unlike any other, Nate was walking away from his psychotic Math teacher’s class and towards his uptight, high strung meterosexual band teacher’s class. He’s come to rationalize this as a good tradeoff, because even though if you ask him he’ll never say so, playing the tenor sax every morning has really grown on him. As he walks down the hallway to the band room, he hears Andre’s peculiar foreign voice somewhere behind him, obviously making some sort of perverted comment to some unsuspecting young lady. “Oi vey,” he thinks, then ponders why he always thinks “Oh my” in French. “Nate!” Alec screams as he runs towards and grabs Nate from behind. “You’re just too sexy from behind,” he whispers in his ear. “God, Alec… just keep it in your pants, dude.” Nate shoots back, breaking the unwelcome embrace. “I'm sorry you're just so sexy!” Nate walks into the band room, and slowly starts off to the little corner of the room where his sax hides. He puts it on one step, and sits on his knees on the other, then hears the eccentric little band director yell “No instruments! We're watching a movie!” Evidently, he had a migraine. He then gets a pass to go to the restroom, rationalizing that he might as well spend this period “relieving” himself instead of watching a crappy movie about some trumpet player from the '30s. He wonders off, thinking which bathroom would be closest. He decides to go with the ones in the old math hall, just because they're generally clean and… lit, and there's a handicap stall at the end that leaves a little room to stretch in. He walks in and undoes his belt, sits down on the toilet, and stares at his penis. He knows it's not all that big at five inches, but he thinks “Well, there's some jackass out there with a two inch nail telling himself the same thing.” Then he thinks of how he could shave. He trims along the edges, in a triangle, and he shaves his ass, but it just seems like a swamp to him still. “Isn't it weird how the only place I look Italian is my penis? Brown hair, brown cock, brown balls, whiter than the wall legs. Gotta love being me.” Just as he was starting to get hard, he hears the door open. At this time, it's got to be one of the wonderful “administration” checking to make sure that the bathrooms won't be vandalized. When actually, it's Alec looking for him. He looks under the stall and sees Nate's bare legs, pants to the side, and his classic black and white Converse, proof that it's him. Now naturally, the door was locked, but the locks at this school are the ones that saved a couple bucks when the bathroom was added on in the '80s. In short, they could be broken being slammed too hard. Alec gave it a push, and sure enough, the lock came open. “What the hell, Alec?” Nate said as Alec closed the door behind him. Alec then lost his pants, they're those shorts that are similar to track/soccer shorts, and he doesn't wear underwear under them. Nate knew he wasn't straight, always has. His first “sexual” experience with another guy was when he was six years old and him and his friend took turns sucking on each other's prepubescent dicks and balls, even giving rimjobs and exploring each other's asses with their fingers. When Nate saw Alec's erect, fully shaved cock staring him down, he just about gaped. “I know I always act gay, but I think I really like you Nate.” Alec says, starting to stroke his now hard cock. “Can I.. suck you off?” “Uhh… yeah, go for it.” Nate says as he scoots to the front of the toilet. Briefly, he wonders how many other boys have met like this. He starts sucking, and God there's no way this is his first time. He takes Nate's entire cock into his mouth, controlling his gag reflex and sucking on it like he's wanting that last sip of coke out of a cup. “Ohhh dude” Nate says, starting to face fuck Alec. “Uhh” Pretty soon, Nate starts to groan wildly and tug on Alec's hair, trying to give him the message that he's about to cum, and he does, Alec begging him for it. The first rope, he swallows, and he does the second, the third comes out of rhythm and his cheeks are filled with it, as it starts to ooze out of his mouth. With the fourth, he tries to swallow what he can, but the majority comes out of his mouth. After words, both of them breathing deeply, near panting, Nate stares at Alec and says “I want you to fuck me,” and those are the words Alec never even dreamed he would hear. Nate gets off the toilet, and onto his knees so he can blow Alec just enough to lube him. He knows he'll be able to receive easily, he's done it plenty enough times with everything from sharpies, to rulers, to the warmed metal rod from a dumb bell. Alec's cut, four inch cock shouldn't be a problem at all. His eyes are precious as Nate starts to go down. He licks his cock, the bottom side first, licking it like a candy cane, swirling his tongue on it, soon Alec has to stop him or else he'll cum right there. He then bends over, putting his hands on the top of the toilet, and says “Do it,” Alec then, slowly, assuming Nate's ass had never been touched, slides his now throbbing cock into him, Nate makes a sound of pure pleasure as he gets all the way in. Realizing that he's loose enough not to be pained it, Alec starts to fuck him quickly. Before either of them know it, he's fucking away like a madman, making grunts of sexual satisfaction, Nate moaning wildly at being fucked this beautiful boy. Soon, Alec damn near screams “I'm gonna cum inside you,” and does, Nate nearly climaxing again as he feels the hot cum filling his ass. As they both come off from their sexual high, and Andre pulls out, a stream of his come does to. He bends down and licks it off of Nate's ass, causing Nate to moan one last time. Then Alec says “We'd better get back to that movie.”
NookieStar presents: pranging a perv (part two)PRANGING A PERV (part two)This is the second part of a story about a boy’s sexual realisations underthe guidance of an older man, and to some extent about the man’s growingawareness of his own true proclivities.This second part is told from the man’s point of view, as the first partwas told from the boy’s. The parts will alternate in that way.It is in every sense a work of the imagination and a fantasy. It will bevery graphic and safe sex is not practiced. If such stuff offends you oryou are not of legal age in your country please do not read it. It is yourchoice.I always welcome feedback and suggestions so feel free to e me atMy other NookieStar stories, which I am also continuing, are `A Professor’sGreek Holiday’ and `The Boy Girl Club’.I am also starting to upload these stories to my `Sensual Writer’ website,Do feel free to visit it and leave comments there too.Thank you and enjoy…Dave Snow.PHILIP’S STORYAbout a week ago my Saab was driven into a youth driving an old BMW…Sometimes I take the tube home from work, but mainly I drive. I live inIslington and work in West London, and somehow public transport, even inthese congested times, always seems to take longer. I know I know…Ishould think more about global warming…It’s certainly been difficult to ignore global warming this summer. I don’tknow how much hotter London can get. It hasn’t rained for weeks, and everyday the sun’s been beating down more and more determinedly, frying us all.But nobody’s complaining. I’m not anyway. And I do love the drive from hometo work and back, however long it takes — especially when the weather islike this, and I can take the roof down on my Saab. My dear old Saab, aclassic, pre-92 convertible, still going strong and relatively untroubledafter 200,000 miles…Well, until last week, that is…I have a choice of routes home. I can do the more obviously direct route,which takes me from the Westway onto the Marylebone Road, the main arterialroad north of the centre of town, and stay on it through the Euston Roadand through Kings Cross and on up to Islington. But if the Marylebone Roadlooks as it might be gridlocked, which it often is, I’ll slip off to theleft and take a more complicated journey up through Regent’s Park, thenCamden Town, up the Camden Road, and if that seems too clogged, I’ve workedout a clever little route that takes me parallel to the Camden Road up AgarGrove, then left, then right into Market Road, past the big clock tower the Market Council Estate, with the football pitches on the right where theArsenal Youth Team sometimes play, or where dads and soccer coachessometimes come to watch aspirant teenage football stars kicking a ballaround, then over the Holloway Road on to Drayton Park and up to my housethat way.I love the drive because I love London. Not so much when it’s cold orraining of course… but when it’s hot like it is now there’s no finer cityin the world, I reckon, for all its filth and inefficiency anddinginess. One of the great joys of driving to work when the weather’s likethis is simple. As you turn left off Market Road and into York Way, you cansee the whole huge metropolis spread out before you and below you –shimmering in the hazy sun: a busy, inventive, imaginative, packed, sexycity, dirty, yes, smelly, polluted, but always sexy.The heat brings out the best in me and my fellow-Londoners. Everybody seemsso happy. The misery of queuing and jostling and sitting in endless trafficjams has lifted. It is fine to stand at bus stops and be stuck in amotionless line of vehicles because you’re outside, in the sun, with allthose other happy people.And of course the clothes have been coming off. A little bit more eachday… At first Londoners greeted the sun cautiously, maybe shedding ajacket, or substituting trousers for a pair of shorts. But as the heat’scontinued, people have become bolder, less reluctant to reveal themselves,and now it’s come to the point where some people are wearing, or so itseems, virtually nothing at all.It’s not too pretty a sight when those who should know better have strippedoff shamelessly — men and women of my own age for instance. PersonallyI’ve given up public semi-nakedness. There’s a time in one’s life whenone’s body is best left covered. But the weather is so glorious that I’veeven felt kindly towards the big-bellied men and the wobbling midriffs ofmiddle-aged women.As for the younger members of the population… Well I can’t deny thatseeing some of them on the way to and from work has added to the joys ofthe journey. Girls these days do seem to be able to get away with wearingless and less… Some of them are so very young too, or appear to be,physically anyway, if not in the rather knowing manner in which they paradetheir bodies. Terrifyingly youthful and flawless midriffs are everywhere.I don’t begrudge them their flaunting. It’s a generational thing I guess. Idon’t remember girls showing themselves quite so brazenly when I was ateenager. Maybe they had less to show off about.I most certainly wouldn’t have walked along a London pavement without ashirt on myself. I didn’t have a bad body as a kid (actually it isn’t toobad even now, for a forty-five year old), but I know that if I’d exhibitedit in the way some of the boys on the streets do nowadays I’d have beenstared at disapprovingly and probably even been told to put my shirt backon some officious passer .In the past week or two of seemingly unstoppable heat, the boys have beenstripping to the waist, or if they haven’t been entirely shirtless, they’velet their shirts flap open unbuttoned. I presume that some are doing thissimply because it is hot — but I haven’t failed to notice that boys whomight not have had such obviously good bodies, which I mean bodies thatare well-formed and attractive, are less willing to shed their tops thanthe ones who must know, I suppose, how very pleasant to the eye theirbodies are. There’s an arrogance there of course, an audacious vanity. Andwho can blame them for knowing they look good without shirts on? I’m notgoing to complain…Life’s short. Enjoy your loveliness while it lasts, girls and boys, and letthe world enjoy it too. That’s what I say…Now I have to confess, although I’m married — I trust happily — withtwo kids myself — Teddy who’s 15 Lily who’s 13, and a wife. Martha, whoI hope still loves me — I do have a roving eye for incontestable beautyof form.I once considered being a painter. I have a talent for it. I’ve learnt thatit isn’t a great talent — not the kind that would get you noticed, thatwould allow you to give up the drudge of a regular career such as the one Inow have — but I still dabble. I always take a sketch book with me in mybriefcase wherever I go, or sometimes a camera and sketch away, or paint,on the basis of what I might have snapped with the camera. Sometimes I justuse my imagination. It’s a hob, nothing else. I tend to paintwatercolours, or sketch in pastels, although I have tried my hand now andthen with oils.Martha my wife says that all I ever paint is pretty people. `And what’swrong with that?’ I protest, `Isn’t there enough ugliness in the world?’She means, she explains, that I only seem to be able to paint `pretty youngpeople’ with an emphasis on the `young’. `But you never seem to paintthings, or objects, or landscapes, do you…?’ she declares. She’s right. Iprefer to paint people – and pretty young people in particular. I can’t seethe point in still-life painting, and if I do depict a landscape, I alwayswant to put a person in the foreground — usually a pretty one.I have two excellent NookieStar presentss for my art in the form of my boy and my girl,both of whom are getting prettier the day. Lily is a skinny little thingstill, but she has a simply stunning face, with the deepest blue eyes(which she gets from her mother). Teddy is becoming very handsome. I’d liketo say he gets that from me, but others will have to be the judge ofthat. I’ve noticed that in the past year or so he’s become really quitemuscular for a boy of 15. Well he’s on his school’s swimming team, and healso likes to lift weights in his room. I think he’s rather proud of hisdeveloping body. During this hot summer, like the boys in the streets, hedoes seem to rather like showing it off. He favours tight T-shirts on thewhole, or if he does wear a conventional shirt it’s usuallyunbuttoned. Often enough he doesn’t wear a shirt at all.The other day I saw him walking up the street towards the house from thebus-stop and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was on his way home fromschool. I was watching him from my study, which is where I also do mysketching and painting. His sinewy body was glistening a little in theheat. I went down the kitchen where he was already raiding the fridge,still shirtless.`Did you travel home like that?’ I asked him.`Whaddya mean?’ he said.`I mean did you come all the way from school like that?’`Like what?’`Half-naked…I mean without a shirt.’`Yeah…? Why…?’`Even on the bus?’`Yeah…? Why…?’`Well I’m not sure you should really…’`Dad!!’ he groaned, nonchalantly wiping the trickles of sweat from hischest, `it’s HOT…’I should like one day to paint him just the way he looked then. I’vesketched and painted several pictures of my darling children, almost fromthe moment they were born, sometimes on their own, and sometimes together– but I’ve not yet had the nerve to ask my beloved boy to pose for meshirtless. It would make a nice picture, and somehow I don’t imagine he’dmind too much.To be absolutely frank I suppose I like to sketch boys more thangirls. Sometimes I base my sketches on boys I’ve seen in the street, or inthe parks, or at the pool. I can base them on photos I’ve taken (I don’thave to get too close, I have a 1000 millimetre zoom lens for the task), orfrom what I’ve remembered they looked like. My imagination obviously playsquite a part.Well to be even more frank I do have a smallish collection of works that mywife Martha hasn’t seen — or I hope she hasn’t. I keep them locked in alower drawer of my desk. They are entirely of boys. They are definitelyworks of the imagination rather than a depiction of reality, although theboys I have seen do feature in them sometimes. I like what I produce frommy imagination to look real, if that’s clear — or as real as a sketch orpainting can be. I tend not to paint absolute fantasy. It just doesn’texcite me.So does the fact that I like to paint pictures of near-naked, or sometimescompletely naked, young boys with good bodies — capturing that preciousmoment of flowering before they are no longer adolescent — make me gay?I guess it does. Although I like to think of myself as bisexual… My sexlife with Martha certainly isn’t suffering. We do have wonderful sex…When my dear old reliable Saab 900 Classic was smashed into last week atthe junction between Hart Road and Stavordale Road as I’d almost got home a youth in a 5-series BMW my first emotion of course was shock, and thenI felt angry, inevitably. All I saw of the boy then was a gawping facethrough the BMW’s windscreen. I checked myself for bodily damage and when Isaw that I was all in one piece as far as I could tell I swung my door openand stepped out in the road. The young lad stepped out of the BMW at thesame time.I said something like `Jesus Christ, what in God’s name do you thinkyou’re…’I didn’t even glance at the boy much at first. I was more eager to see howbadly my car had been hit. Well the passenger door was buckled, but notirreparably I reckoned.The boy was bobbing beside me, almost whining, saying how sorry he was. `Awmister I’m really sorry…I didn’t see you and that…’Then I looked at him. He was quite the most extraordinarily beautiful kidI’d seen in a long time, and certainly during this long hot summer. I thinkhe was probably sixteen or seventeen. He had a quite tough-looking face,with what appeared to be a slightly broken nose. His eyes were a searinggreeny-blue. He was pouting a little with apology but I think his lips wereluscious and full anyway. He had a shock of spiky dark hair.His shirt, of course, was open. I don’t know if our crash and his havingjumped out of his own car so rapidly had opened it even more, but it wasfalling back over his shoulders, so that I could see almost all of hischest and stomach. His dirty jeans, as is the fashion, rode low over hiships. He had exceptional muscles for a boy of his age — strong firmpronounced pectorals and an abdomen that was perfectly ridged. Teddy, I’venoticed, is getting this way, with his swimming and his working out in hisroom, but he hasn’t become quite as defined, as toned as this boy was. Hisskin was as smooth as marble and he was as brown as a berry. He was utterlyheart-stopping.And of course I couldn’t speak for a time. He was still dipping up anddown, thrusting his hands in and out of his pockets. He was just a nervousboy really, worrying about my rage and what I was going to do. There was noaggression there. He was obviously terrified. Clearly he shouldn’t havebeen driving a 5-series BMW, which he couldn’t have owned.I could only stare at the sheen of sweat on his chest.`Mister, you not gonna report this is ya…’ he said.I said, stupidly in the circumstances because I knew he wouldn’t have anyinsurance, `we should exchange details for insurance purposes…’He was waving his hands, shaking his head. I was thinking, absurdly I know,how Michelangelo would have liked to sculpt him. And perhaps done otherthings with him too…He then told me that he worked for a garage just down the road, a placecalled Bakshi Motors. I’ve seen it. It’s at the Holloway Road end ofDrayton Park. I pass it most days to and from work. It doesn’t look to melike the most reliable of repair centres.I shook my head. `No, I said, `just give me your details…’What details? Boys like this don’t have any details…He seemed understandably eager that the matter should go no further. Heeven said something about Bakshi Motors mending my smashed passenger doorfor free.He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a crumpled little card. Irather envied that hand, touching a hard young pectoral under the shirt. Iwas looking at his nipples, tiny pointy things they were… Why are a boy’snipples somehow so much more tantalising than a girl’s, especially whenthey seem to sprout as his were?`That’s all I got mister, that’s the number of Bakshi Motors, honest misterthey’ll do a good job…’ I took the card. For a fleeting moment ourfingers touched. `It’s not too bad damage, mister, I can see, we’ll fix itup good for ya, honest…’I had to leave him. I had to pull myself away. If only for the simplereason that my cock was stirring under my trousers, and I was hoping thatit wasn’t being noticed. He wasn’t looking at anything but my face,pleadingly. I don’t think he’s gay, or even bisexual… But he’s very verylovely.I walked back round my car and got in. I knew it would be useless to pursuethings further, at least as far as my injured Saab was concerned. I decidedto give him the smallest of frights though — there was a kind of thrillin seeing the kid’s fear, and the feeling of momentary control I had overhim. I said: `You, or Bakshi Motors, will be hearing from my insurers…’And I slipped the car into drive and sped on up Hart Road and turned rightonto Highbury Hill.A week later, I’ve done nothing about getting the Saab repaired. I haven’ttaken it to the place I usually go to — which is in my opinion far tooexpensive. But I do love my car — and I think despite the 200,000 milesshe’s done there’s still life in the old dear yet.I’m thinking that maybe I should put her future, for however long it maybe, in the hands of Bakshi Motors. I’m sure they’re cheaper. I still havetheir number.And the summer goes on — hotter now than it’s ever been.to be continued…
NookieStar presents: pranging a perv (part one)This is the start of a story about a boy’s sexual realisations under theguidance of an older man. It will be told alternately from the boy’s andthe man’s point of view. It is in every sense a work of the imagination anda fantasy. It will be very graphic and safe sex is not practiced. If suchstuff offends you or you are not of legal age in your country please do notread it. It is your choice.I always welcome feedback and suggestions so feel free to e me atMy other NookieStar stories, which I am also continuing, are `A Professor’sGreek Holiday’ and `The Boy Girl Club’.1.Max starts his story:My name’s Max. I live with my mum in the Market Estate which is a totalcrap housing estate in a place called Islington which is a place in LondonEngland. If you come to London you can see it behind the big clock tower onMarket Road N7, which is where the football pitches are that the Arsenalyouth team practice on sometime and sometime I kick a ball around there toowith my mates. My home is a dump and soon as I get out the better.I don’t go to school no more. I left. I aren’t no layabout though, I got ajob. It’s at a garage called Bakshi Motors in Drayton Park N1 (just in caseyou want your car fixed cheap!) which is run my best mate Ahmad’sdad. Ahmad got his dad to give me a job. I like Ahmad’s dad Mr Bakshibecause he treats me good and lets me take time off sometime and he alsoteaches me about cars and he lets me drive them around sometime. I drivegood and don’t have accidents, well not until last week.My mate Ahmad is a Muslim. He isn’t no militant Muslim or nothing likethat. He does his prayers and stuff like a good lad, but he don’t want toblow up people or anything like that. His dad and mum came fromPakistan. He’s clever is Ahmad, much cleverer than me, and he still goes toschool, he wants to get to uni and stuff, which he probably will. When heisn’t at school though, like at weekends or in the evenings, he helps outhis dad’s garage but he don’t know as much about cars as me.Another lad that works at Bakshi Motors is our mate Eze who is black andhis mum and dad came from Africa, or maybe his grandparents did, I don’tknow exactly. We call him Ez. He’s a cool guy even though he is youngerthan Ahmad and me. Ahmad and me and Ez hang around together loads even whenwe aren’t working at Bakshi Motors. There are some real racist boys roundwhere we all hang out, on the Market Estate specially, and sometime theycall me stuff like paki-lover and nigger-lover and even Al Quaida terroristand stuff because I got a paki Muslim and a African as my best mates well they can go fuck themselves. I got some white mates too, but it’sjust that Ahmad and Ez are my best mates and to me it don’t matter whatcolour they are.Anyway I’m a foreigner too. Or a half-foreigner. My dad’s Russian andthat’s why my name is Max because Max is short for Maxim which is a Russianname. I don’t remember my dad though. He was a Russian sailor who banged upmy mum when he was over here on a Russian boat. He took her and me backwith him to Russia for a bit but only for like two years so I don’tremember none of that.My mum hated Russia and they was always arguing and stuff and then he hither or something and she left him and came back here. We don’t know wheremy dad is now, but my mum has some photos of him still. I think shefancied him a load. He was a very good-looking bloke. They probably hadgreat sex.My mum’s real beautiful, a real babe. I don’t mean like I fancy her ornothing, but I seen photos of her when she was like my age or maybe 20 or abit older and she looks a real babe I mean all her clothes and stufffrom that time, like from the 1980s, are weird and make me laugh but youcan still she was a stunner and she still is for a old person. Well she is36 which isn’t too old I guess, and she still gets blokes, which shedeserves because she’s beautiful. I don’t like it too much when they comeover and because her bedroom is next to mine in the flat I hear them goingat it and that it’s sort of weird listening to all that and I don’t like itbut I suppose she’s got to have sex like any woman or bloke.Mind you sometime when I listening to them my nob goes hard.So I guess you want to know about me and sex and girls and stuff. Well Idon’t got a girlfriend, or not regular, but there’s this girl called Hollywho goes to Camden Girls and she’s fit and sexy and she wants to be my girlor so she says and we have sex. She’s a real skinny babe and I like thatit’s my taste. She isn’t my first, that was a girl called Carol when I was15 who was like a total slut and we fucked lots when I was 15 but I don’tsee her no more. Then there’s been Becky and Marianne and Carmel who wasblack and now there’s Holly, but she isn’t like a real girlfriend becausewe don’t hang out and stuff we just have sex, which is good. She says I’mreal fit which I like.Holly lives in a big house in Canonbury Square which I never been tobecause her parents are rich like her dad is a lawyer and I thinktheir house must be worth like four million quid at least. She says shewants me to meet her mum and dad but I don’t want to because I know theywon’t like me because I’m from the Market Estate and I reckon they wanttheir daughter to marry a nice boy with a good education and probablymoney.Anyway it’s kind of a turn-on that we have sex because it’s kind of secret,and I reckon she thinks it kind of hot too. We have sex at my place whichmy mum don’t mind about, and sometime at my mate Ben’s because he got aspare room. I think Ben lets us do it at his place because he’s a perv andhe likes listening! She is real fit, she wants to be a model, she says thatsome agencies is already taking her photo and stuff. She’d be a hot model no not that kind of model! I’m talking about catwalk model, properfashion model and stuff like Kate Moss `cept younger.My mate Ahmad doesn’t have sex. He says it’s because he’s a Muslim andhe’s going to marry some girl from Pakistan or somewhere and not have sexuntil he’s married. Yeah right. Ez and me is always ribbing him aboutthat. He’s fit and lots of girls think so and want to have sex withhim. Even Holly thinks he’s fit. I told him that and he went all funny andstuff. I think he got a hard-on!Ez has lots of sex, not just with black girls neither. He says he beenhaving it since 13 but I think he’s just boasting. He says all black boyshave big cocks and that’s why white girls want him so much. Yeah right. Ihaven’t seen his cock so I don’t know. But he’s fit too.WE ARE THE FIT LADS OF ISLINGTON LOL.Now you know all about me, or I don’t know what else to tell you so…A week ago I pranged one of Mr Bakshi’s customer’s cars. It was a sweetmotor BMW 5 series, cabrio, 2.5 litre 16 valve, midnight blue, greyleather seats, 0-60 in 5.5 secs, L reg, 150k on the clock, but Mr Baskhi’sclocked it so it says less, still goes like a dream though.I taken it out before but always with Mr Bakshi and this time I went on myown. Well it was just sitting there wasn’t it. Mr Bakshi was awaysomewheres and we’d fixed it and it was waiting for the owner to collect itbut I heard he couldn’t do that till the next day so it was just waiting. Isaid to Phil who works for Mr Bakshi I was going to take it for a shortspin and he’s like you shouldn’t do that but he didn’t stop me did he.I was only going to take it up to Highbury and round, no distance. So Itake the keys, start her up, take the roof down because it was like a realhot day and I take her up to the Barn and then down Aubert Park and turnoff onto Stavordale so I can get back to Drayton Park.Stavordale’s one of the only roads round here that don’t have those fuckingspeed bumps on it so I see if I can get her up to 60 before I gets to theend of the road. I get her up to 60 all right and maybe even 70 well ofcourse I can’t stop before I gets to the end of the road.And there’s some old guy driving an old Saab up Hart Road and I can’t stop.I see him so I slam the brakes but I don’t stop soon enough. He sees me andall so he swerves a bit so I graze his side like and don’t hit him full onotherwise we might both be dead!I’m like oh fuck. Not a good situation! First thing I do is get out of theBMW to check the damage. If I’d thought more I could have just driven thefuck out of there, then dumped the car somewhere and pretend I didn’t havenothing to do with it or something. But Phil had seen me take the motorout hadn’t he? Anyways I was out of the car and so was the old bloke in theSaab.He’s like `what the fuck?’ Front of the BMW was a bit buckled but thedamage wasn’t too grievous, just a body repair job. Same with the Saab whenI checked, just needed the side and door panels beating out. None of thecars was a write-off or nothing so that was a relief.I think the old bloke’s going to start screaming at me and stuff but hedoesn’t. He just like looks at me. I’m like `hey mister I’m sorry’ andstuff, being like a real polite kid and that. And he’s still looking at me,not saying nothing. Then he says something like `we’d better exchangedetails for insurance and stuff’ and I’m like what fucking details am Igoing to give him?He seems like a nice old bloke. I’m thinking he could have like punched mein and shouted or something but he didn’t. So I tells him straight that Iworks for Bakshi Motors which is just down the road and then I says we canfix his car for him if he wants, and for free and all, and not to botherabout any insurance or nothing.I don’t know why I’m saying this or what the fuck Mr Bakshi’s going to saywhen I tell him I not only pranged his best customer’s BMW but he’s got tofix that and a Saab for free, but it just seems to be like the best thingto say, the best way out of the situation.And the old bloke’s like still shaking his head and like `no no I don’tknow’. And I’m showing him the damage to the Saab and saying that it isn’tlike a big deal or nothing, just a panel-beating job.And he’s like `no just give me your details’. And I’m like well I don’thave any details because it’s not my car is it? I tell him all I got isthe address and number of Bakshi Motors, so he’s like `well give me thosethen’ and I do.It’s like he can’t speak proper and he’s got a frog in his throat orsomething.And he’s still giving me these funny looks and I’m thinking it could belike he’s on something I don’t know. And then he just says `you’ll behearing from my insurers’ and then he’s in his old Saab and he drives off,up Hart Road and off round the corner.Well when I gets back to the garage Mr. Bakshi is there and he goes fuckingape. Lucky that Ahmad was there because I think he persuaded his dad not tofire me. Mr. Bakshi went even more ape when I told him he could be gettinga call from the bloke with the Saab, or the bloke’s insurance company orwhatever. He says he’s going to dock what it costs to fix the two cars offmy wages. Well it could’ve been worse. He tells me how we got to make upsome story about how the BMW was nicked someone else and taken for a joyride and that I didn’t have nothing to do with it. Well that’s all right me.Then he’s like `And do up your shirt I will not have naked men in mygarage!’ And that’s when it hits me about the bloke with the Saab. Ididn’t think about it earlier, well I suppose I sort of did. He was a perv!He was perving me.See I was wearing my red quiksilver shirt and because it was so fucking hotit was open, and the old poofta was checking me out! Checking my pecs andabs and stuff!Well I know I got a good bod. Holly is like always saying she likes mysix-pack and my chest. She likes to lick them. And I seen the old pervscheckin me out when I go to Hampstead Lido to swim with Ahmad and Ez. Yeahthe pervs like looking at Ahmad and Ez too coz they got fit bods too.WE ARE THE FIT LADS OF ISLINGTON IN OUR SPEEDOS LOL!Well the old bloke with the Saab has got my number hehe, or the garage’sanyway…NOT THAT I’M QUEER OR NOTHING.to be continued…
NookieStar presents: Today I Am a Perv (or “B.M. Boy”) (m/m, oral, anal, spit, ws, scat)I think I was probably as excited about Josh’s upcoming bar mitzvah as hewas because it would mark a milestone not only in his life but in ourrelationship. No, not our relationship as friends, our OTHER relationship,the one we kept hidden from everyone, the one that, so far, had involved aLOT of talk but very little action. We’d kissed each other on the lips butnever stuck our tongues in each other’s mouths; we had seen each other’sdicks but never jacked off in front of each other; we had shown our asses toeach other but never examined each other’s assholes.”So why don’t you wanna try it?” I would ask, after presenting him with anew sexual game we could play.”I do, Deshawn,” he would always say, staring up at me with those bigdeceptively innocent blue eyes, “but we have to wait till I’m a man.”"Shit, we might both be dead then,” I’d say in frustration.But Josh would just smile coyly at me and say, “Don’t worry. It won’t bethat long.”Josh and I had to be the oddest couple in middle school. Who would havethought that a Jewish kid from midtown Manhattan and a black kid fromcentral Harlem would hook up as friends and fellow perverts? I guess partof it was the “opposites attract” thing. I was tall and dark-skinned withshort nappy hair while Josh was short and pale with long dirty blond hair,so we were each curious about the physical differences of the other. But Ithink we ended up together mostly because we had so much in common (I mean,besides my people and his both having been oppressed and all): We were bothsmart, we both sucked at every sport except Chinese handball, and we bothgot horny over the weirdest shit.Yeah, “shit” was exactly the word I meant to use because it was one of themain things that got us horny. I’m not sure exactly when, but pretty earlyon in our friendship we connected on the fact that we both liked watchingpeople go to the bathroom, specifically seeing them do number two. Untilthat time, I thought I was the only kid on earth who actually got his rocksoff on that. So when Josh confided in me one day how he sometimes pretendedhe had to pee really bad so his five-year-old brother would get off thetoilet and open the bathroom door, and how the smell of his little brother’sshit and the sight of his turds floating in the bowl turned him on so muchthat he would shoo his brother out of the bathroom and jack off over theboy’s shit, I knew I had found a kindred spirit.”So why don’t we watch each other take a shit?” I’d asked.”Can’t.”"Why not?”"Like I said, we have to wait–”"I know, I know,” I said. “Till you’re a man, right?”Again he just smiled. “It REALLY won’t be that long.”"Yeah, right,” I said with resignation.For some reason it never occurred to me to pin Josh down to an age. I justassumed he meant 21. And he knew this and kept stringing me along untilabout a month before his 13th birthday, when he invited me to his barmitzvah.”Your ‘bar’ what’s ‘vah’?”"Bar MITZvah. When a Jewish boy turns thirteen, under Jewish Law he becomesa man, and usually there’s a ceremony to mark the occasion.”I smiled at him and shook my head, which made him smile and nod; then Iplayfully punched him on the shoulder. “Why you little fucker! Why didn’tyou tell me?”"You didn’t ask.”I continued to just stare at him, smiling and shaking my head.”Well? You gonna be there?”"I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said.”There’s gonna be a reception after, so don’t eat anything.”********************************************Josh and I had never seen each other all dressed up before, so when I walkedinto the synagogue that Saturday and saw him in his blue suit and stripedtie with his hair neatly combed and wearing a yarmulke, and when he saw mein my grey suit, tie and vest with my short afro neatly shaped up, we bothjust stood there gawking at each other like the thirteen-year-olds we were.With the exception of a few religious things I didn’t recognize, thesynagogue didn’t look a whole lot different from my grandmother’s Baptistchurch, with pews and stained glass windows and that same funny smell thatall places of worship seem to have. Only today, according to Josh, therewere more people than usual since so many of his family and friends had comefor the bar mitzvah and reception.After putting on a prayer shawl (Josh called it a “tallit”), Josh recited ablessing then began to chant, and at one point he was even leading part ofthe service, and I was proud to see my friend doing his part so well. Thenhe said, “Today I am a man,” and went on to make a little speech welcomingthe guests, thanking his mom and dad and the rabbi for making it such aspecial occasion, and saying what it meant for him to reach this importantstage of his life.After the service we all headed downstairs for the reception. In thebasement were a stage, where a four-man band stood tuning their instruments,and a sea of tables, each with a healthy spread of kosher foods. While Ihad grown up on Southern fried chicken, collard greens, and cornbread, I wasalways open to tasting the foods of other cultures, so I feasted on the loxand bagels, gefilte fish, and something Josh’s grandmother made calledkreplach, which I thoroughly enjoyed. And when the music started, I evenjoined in to sing “Hava Nagila,” though I had to fake most of the words.Still, everyone there seemed pleased that “Josh’s black friend” was enjoyinghimself.But while I was indeed enjoying the festivities, I still didn’t really getwhy Josh needed to wait until after this whole bar mitzvah thing before wemessed around. Then he explained to me that one of the things that happenswhen a Jewish boy becomes a man is that his father is no longer responsiblefor the boy’s sins, since at thirteen the boy is old enough to be heldresponsible for himself. In fact, Josh said, the blessing his dad hadrecited when he’d joined him up front at the Torah was to thank God forremoving the burden of being responsible for Josh’s sins. In other wordsGod could no longer punish Mr. Goldstein for whatever nastiness Josh and Iended up doing; now good ol’ Josh himself would be the one getting struckdown lightning.But after Josh told me that, it became harder for me to enjoy the receptionbecause I kept thinking about all the things he and I had put off doing andall the catching up we would get to do now that he was officially a man andofficially responsible for himself. I wondered how far we would go with thesex and how nasty we would get with the shit play. Whatever happened, thebest part was that, from this point on, we would be exploring brand newterritory, and we would be exploring it together.I was anxious, though, about how long it would take us to start thatexploring. Neither my mom nor Josh’s worked, so it was hard for us to findtime to get together after school, since someone was always at home. Andwhile there were certain out-of-the-away places in our school where we couldhang out pretty much unnoticed, we could never stay there too long or getnaked because it was simply too risky. In other words, there just weren’tthat many places where a couple of horny boys could freak together withoutworrying about a grown-up walking in on us. But I tried not to depressmyself dwelling on this.After an hour or so, when all the toasts had been given and most of thedancing done, everyone had mellowed. I was slouched in my chair,half-eating a piece of cake as I ogled Josh, who was talking to one of hisaunts. When he saw me, he winked and the next thing I knew he had rushedover to me and, grinning, grabbed my arm and dragged me into a far corner ofthe room, behind a huge pillar, where there was a door. Opening it, Joshquickly nudged me through and closed it behind us and we proceeded down along, narrow flight of stairs.”Where are we going?”"It’s a surprise,” said Josh, following right behind me.I smiled and continued to the bottom of the staircase, where there wasanother door. Catching up to me, Josh eased it open and we stepped inside.”Wow!” I said as I stood there and looked around. It was a hugesub-basement with a big angry-looking furnace surrounded severaldimly-lit passageways.”Come on,” Josh said again. “I wanna show you something.”I proceeded to follow my friend through one of the passageways, around acouple of corners and down a long corridor until we came to a big red door.Josh opened it as if he knew it wouldn’t be locked and we cautiously enteredthe dark room. Then he flipped the light switch, and when the fluorescentbulbs flickered on, I found myself inside a workout area with several redgym mats on the floor. Apparently a small exercise class was held here.”Take your jacket off,” said Josh, who was already half way out of his. Idid, handing it to Josh, and he hung both jackets on a couple of the coathooks that lined the wall behind us. Then we took off our ties and he hungthem up too, after which we both unfastened the top buttons of our whiteshirts to give our necks some breathing room.”Ahh, that’s better,” said Josh, crouching down in front of me. “Now pullyour pants down.”I hesitated. “Right here?”Josh rolled his eyes. “Dumb question.”I gave him a half-smile and quickly unbuckled my belt, and unbuttoned andunzipped my pants, allowing them to drop down on top of my new shoes andexposing my “tighty-whiteys” and the prominent bulge that was my hard-on.”Mmmmmm!” Josh hummed as he stroked it through the white cotton. “Okay, nowyour drawers.”Foregoing the next “dumb question” I was about to ask, I simply grasped thewaistband of my underwear, pulled it out, and pushed my drawers down,freeing my five-inch erection, which was sticking up at a forty-five-degreeangle.”Wow!” said Josh, his eyes stretched open as he admired my equipment. “Yourcock’s REALLY hard!”"That’s because it thinks it’s gonna get some action,” I casually said.Josh looked up at me and smiled. “It will, this time,” he said, running hisfinger across my piss slit and smearing the pre-come over my cockhead. “Ipromise. But first, turn around and bend over.”I smirked at Josh then did exactly as he’d asked, holding my knees forsupport. The tail of my shirt, which was sticking out from under my vest,was draped over my ass, so Josh carefully tucked it under the bottom of myvest. Now that he had total access to my ass, he began to rub his handsover it, caressing my cheeks until they began to feel warm. Then he gaveeach cheek a light slap followed a little kiss before spreading themapart and, I think, just peering inside my asshole.”See anything you like in there?” I asked without turning my head.But Josh didn’t answer me, I guess because it was another “dumb question.”Instead he stuck his nose right in my ass and began to sniff my hole. As ifon cue, I felt my stomach begin to churn from all the gas that had built upinside me from what I hadn’t eaten before the reception, and with Joshfooling around back there, it was ready to come out.”Hey, Josh?”"Yeah?”But I figured I’d already given my friend as much of a warning as he needed,so I just let go and farted right in his face, the fumes so strong I’msurprised they didn’t knock his yarmulke right off his head.”Fuck!” Josh gasped.If he was as much into shitty smells as he’d said he was, his reaction towhat I’d just done to him would be the first real test of how honest he hadbeen with me about letting his “freak flag fly” once he was a “man.” I gotmy answer when I heard Josh deep-sniffing my asshole then felt him rubbinghis face in little circles in my ass.”Shit, that turns me on,” I said. “Now put your mouth over my ass, so I canfart in it.”Without missing a beat, Josh pressed his soft lips over my anus and twoseconds later I farted right in his mouth, causing him to gulp loudly as heactually swallowed my ass gas. When I realized what he’d done, I almostcame without touching myself.”Damn! You’re a nasty little fuck, aren’t you?”"Mmm-hmm,” Josh responded.”Then show me how nasty you are.”Even though I knew that Josh knew exactly what I was asking him to do, Istill flinched when I felt his tongue touch my asshole and I was stillshocked when I felt it snaking inside.”Shit!” I gasped. “Yeah, Josh, lick it! Lick the fucking SHIT outta myass!”As my friend’s tongue probed my anus, the music and other noise of thereception was clearly audible through the ceiling, and for a moment Iwondered what Josh’s parents, relatives and friends would think if they knewjust where the Guest of Honor was and what he was doing. The fact that wewere still in the synagogue and that he was performing anilingus on meliterally under everyone’s noses made what we were doing all the more dirtyand exciting.”Hold up a minute,” I said, and when Josh backed away from my ass, I stoodup and slowly turned around, trying not to trip over my pants and drawers,until I was looking down at him. I began to playfully slap him in the facewith my hard-on, leaving little smears of pre-come on his rosy cheeks, and Iwas just about ready to fuck his face when I looked up and noticed a door atthe back of the room.”Is that a bathroom?” I asked.”Yeah, why?”"Do me a favor. Go in there and get me some toilet paper. I’d go myselfbut…” and I glanced down at my pants and drawers bunched up around myankles.”Be right back,” Josh said, and he popped up, ran into the bathroom, anddashed back with a roll that had very little toilet paper left on it. Hehanded it to me and again crouched down in front of me.Tearing off the few remaining sheets, I tossed the empty cardboard cylinderto the side then stooped down, putting myself face to face with Josh.”Okay, pucker up,” I said, and when he did, I carefully wiped his lips withthe toilet paper. Afterwards I was both disgusted and intrigued to see afaint brown residue on the paper, as if I had just wiped my ass with it.Whatever expression I was wearing made Josh smile. “Well, you TOLD me tolick the shit out of your ass.”Now I smiled too. “I also said you were a nasty little fuck,” and I balledup the toilet paper while staring straight into Josh’s blue eyes. “Openyour mouth.”Josh wrinkled his nose at the command but then proceeded to open his mouthso wide I could almost see his tonsils, and I promptly tossed the toiletpaper in it.”Now chew.”With ours eyes still locked, Josh began to smack away at the toilet paper,keeping his mouth open while he chewed so I could see it wadding up. Ishook my head.”Damn! I can’t believe the Bar Mitzvah Boy is chewing up a piece of shittytoilet paper.”Josh stopped chewing just long enough to scrunch up his face and bare histeeth at me after which he continued to chew until I told him to stop.”Now open your mouth again.”He did and I could see the mushy white lump of toilet paper sitting in hismouth, the brown stains dissolving but still clearly visible on it. I knewI was frowning again as I stared in his mouth, but as disgusting as the wet,shitty tissue looked, I couldn’t remember Josh ever looking any cuter thanhe did at that moment, and before I could even think about what I was doing,I held his face in my hands, leaned over and planted my lips on his.”Mmmmmm,” he moaned, and it felt as if all of Josh’s muscles suddenly meltedas I pushed my tongue into his mouth and slurped around, getting a healthytaste of my own ass. When I was done, he returned the favor using histongue to push the disintegrating toilet paper into my mouth. Then I pushedit back in his, and we ended up swapping spit and toilet paper over and overuntil the toilet paper had crumbled into a bunch of little pieces, uponwhich we broke our kiss and swallowed. Afterwards we just smiled at eachother, licking our lips and running our tongues over and under our teeth toremove those last bits of toilet paper. now I couldn’t stand it anymore. My dick was as hard as it had evenbeen, and as it steadily leaked pre-cum I was eager to put it in the samewet, warm place I’d just taken my tongue out of. So, putting a hand onJosh’s shoulder to balance myself, I stood up. But before I could make amove to plunge my prick into Josh’s mouth, he beat me to the punch lunging forward and impaling his mouth on it.”Ooooh!” I gasped, and as Josh grabbed my ass, I grabbed his head and beganto mouth fuck him, my balls bouncing off his chin as I rammed my rod downhis throat.”Take it, Josh!” I hissed. “Take my dick right in your pussy mouth!”"Mmph! Mmph!” he responded.Not long after we’d met, Josh had made it clear to me that he got off onbeing called names, even when we were just kidding around; furthermore he’dsaid point blank that being called NASTY names made him horny. And when Idiscovered that calling him those nasty names made ME just as horny, wesometimes had these interesting little verbal sessions that, thinking back,were like substitute jack-off sessions.But calling Josh names while actually seeing his pink lips stretched aroundmy brown shaft, as I thrust it in and out of his mouth, had my libidosoaring. A part of me wanted to snatch my dick out of his mouth and shootmy load in his face. But since he still had his clothes on, I didn’t wanthim having to explain to his mom how starch wound up on the collar of hiswhite shirt BEFORE she sent it to the laundry. Besides, Josh’s mouth wasfeeling so damn good on my dick that the idea of coming right where I wasand watching him swallow it was much more appealing.About ten seconds later, I felt those little rockets go off in my head.Jerking and grunting, I clutched the back of Josh’s head, trying not todisplace his yarmulke, and shoved my dick impossibly deep in his mouth.”Shit! I’m coming!” I gasped. “Swallow it, you fucking bitch!”Moaning, Josh clawed my ass with his small fingers, pulling me even closerto his face and forcing my prick even further down his throat. I responded clasping his head harder as I spurted again and again into his mouth. Ithink Josh was surprised just how much I came, but he had only himself toblame for that because if we had jacked off in front of each other the wayI’d wanted us to, he’d have known what to expect.Anyway, despite his surprise, Josh finally managed to gulp down my entireload, after which he slowly pulled my shrinking dick out of his mouth,stared at it for a second, then cocked his head to the side and looked up atme with squinty eyes.”Shit, Deshawn, you could’ve warned me.”I chuckled. “I thought I’d give you a nice surprise for your bar mitzvah.So did you like it?”"It was like swallowing a mouthful of fucking snot.”"I’ll take that as a yes.”He gave me a twisted grin.”So when do I get to see YOUR little circumcised snot-maker?”"I don’t know,” said Josh. “It’d be nice if we could both just strip, butI’m not sure how much time we have.”"How long do you think it’ll be before they start noticing we’re notaround?”"They probably already noticed.”"Then how long before they start looking for us?”As soon as those words left my mouth, Josh’s cell phone rang. For a momentwe both froze, as if answering it meant whoever was calling would somehow beable to see us. Scurrying over to where his suit jacket was hanging, Joshfumbled around in the pocket before finally retrieving the phone and lookingat the number.”It’s my dad,” he said, and he looked relieved.”So what’re you gonna tell him?”He smiled. “Don’t worry.”I was surprised at how relaxed Josh sounded when he answered the phone, andwhen he explained how he and I had ducked outside “to get away from thosewomen and all their yacking,” Mr. Goldstein apparently understood ouranxiety perfectly because it wasn’t long afterwards that Josh hung up thenturned to me and smiled.”He’s going to cover for us for the next half hour,” he said, as he began toundress. “But he doesn’t think he can hold my mom and aunts off any longerthan that.”"Wow, your dad’s cool.” But I wondered how cool he’d have been if he knewwhat he was giving us time to do.Josh and I decided that we needed to see each other completely naked, so wefinished taking off our clothes, carefully hanging them up on the hooks nextto our jackets and ties. Josh removed everything except his yarmulke. Thenwe just stood there staring at each other. About five feet tall, Joshwasn’t exactly skinny but was no means husky. He was somewhere inbetween, weighing in at about 100 pounds, with smooth, unblemished whiteskin. For a “man” he had sparse few pubic hairs, but his four-inch erectionand tight golf-ball-sized pouch of balls showed that he was indeed on hisway to manhood.”Turn around,” I said, and when he did, I smiled and nodded when I laid eyeson his pale little ass. “Nice.”Josh turned his head, looking at me over his shoulder, then put his hands onhis hips, stuck his butt out at me, and shook it. I grabbed at it but hesidestepped me and, giggling, began to run around the room, leaping from onemat to another as I chased after him. I was trying my best to catch him buthe kept ducking and dodging, avoiding my grasp, until finally he let metackle him and we both went tumbling to the mats, my head landing smack onhis ass.For the next minute or so, the two of us just lay there giggling as werecovered from our little romp. Then all of a sudden, as if on cue, westopped laughing and, without saying another word, Josh crawled from underme, pulled his knees under himself and, keeping his head low, pushed his assup in the air. At first I just stared at him. There was something aboutthe sight of Josh’s pale white body poised against those bright red gym matsthat was simply stunning. Finally I crawled behind him, clutched his asscheeks, and carefully spread his asshole open. It was the pinkest, mostbeautiful little rosette I had ever seen–not that I had seen very many atmy age, but if I had, I doubt they would have come close to being as nice asJosh’s.”Smell it,” said Josh.Keeping my hold on his buns, I wedged my nose in Josh’s ass and inhaled,getting a good strong whiff of the shit odor we both knew would be there.Of course the smell just made my already-super-hard dick even harder.”Now lick it,” said Josh.Without hesitation I buried my tongue in my friend’s poop chute, making himgasp and flinch the same way I had when he’d poked his tongue in mine; andas his sphincter clutched at my tongue, I damn near came just thinking abouthow I was finally getting my first taste of ass from the person whose assI’d wanted to taste for so long.”Mmmmmmmm,” I hummed, sucking and smacking at Josh’s asshole, trying my bestto make up for all those previous lost opportunities licking it clean.After about a minute or so, I pulled back to survey the results of my effortand was pleased to see frothy white spit bubbles dripping out of my friend’spucker.”Now DO me,” Josh suddenly said, easing forward until he was lying flat.My heart immediately began to beat faster. “You mean…”"Yeah, that. After all, you’ve been wanting to since about ten minutesafter we met, and I’ve been wanting you to since about five minutes after wemet, so I think we’ve both waited long enough, don’t you?”"Yeah,” I chuckled. “But are you sure, Josh? I mean, I don’t wanna hurtyou or–”"Don’t worry. You won’t,” and he hopped up, dashed over to the coat hooks,and fished something out of the pocket of his jacket; when he came back, hehanded it to me and resumed his prone position on the mat.It was a little tube of Vaseline, and I smiled and shook my head at therealization that Josh had actually come prepared for getting his ass fuckedon the day of his bar mitzvah.Squeezing out about an inch of the petroleum jelly onto the end of my middlefinger, I pulled Josh’s left ass cheek to the side and slowly inserted myfinger all the way in his anus, causing him to moan and clutch at it withhis sphincter the same way he’d clutched at my tongue. After holding itinside him for a few seconds, I began to gently piston it in his rectum,thoroughly lubricating the snug hole before finally pulling out of him.When I looked at my finger, I was pleased to see not only grease but astreak of shit as well, which I wiped off on my dick fisting it a fewtimes.”Okay, you ready?” I asked, taking my place on top of Josh and nestling mydick in his ass crack.He sighed then said, “Yeah. Do me.”Using one hand to again pull Josh’s asshole open, I held the shaft of mycock in the other hand and began to push the knob against his pucker.”Nnnnngghh!” Josh groaned as my virgin dick strained to enter his virginasshole.I felt like I was about to experience my own bar mitzvah. Only this onewould be a private ceremony, without all the prayers and the people. AndJosh must have been thinking something similar, because as soon as the headof my dick popped into his anus, he gasped, shuddered, and cried out, “TodayI am a man! Say it, Deshawn!”"Today I am a man!” I shouted, as my dick slowly sank into the 13-year-old’sshit chute.”And what are we men doing?” he asked, his voice straining.”Fucking.”"What?”"Fucking!” I yelled, and as soon as I repeated it, my cock hit bottom,sliding all the way into Josh’s asshole.”Uhhhhnnn,” Josh moaned, and I could feel his rectum pulsating on my dick,bringing me to the brink of an orgasm and forcing me to stay put until thefeeling passed. This wasn’t easy. Being in Josh’s ass was better thananything I’d ever felt or even imagined before. Not even pushing myerection into the soft folds of my cotton velour shirt (after having stuffedit between the mattress and box spring of my bed) could compare to theliving warmth of Josh’s shithole. But I was determined not to blow my wadprematurely, so I took a deep breath and tried to focus on anything otherthan where my dick was. That’s when I decided it was a good time to askJosh how he was doing.”Well, considering I have a certain friend’s big black dick up my ass, Iguess I’m okay.”I snickered then leaned over and nipped him on the ear. But it was time toget serious again, and since now I had leaked quite a bit of pre-comeinto his asshole to add to the spit and Vaseline already in there, I figuredit was about as lubed up as it was going to get. So, pressing my palmsagainst the mat as if I were about to do pushups, I eased my hips back,slowly pulling my rod out of Josh’s rectum. When it was about half way out,I eased myself down again, and my dick easily slid back inside him. Icontinued to lift and lower my hips this way in short strokes, giving Josh achance to get used to the feel of my dick up his ass.I have to admit, my friend was a real trooper through all this. The most hedid was wince a couple of times when I moved a little too fast. Other thanthat, he surrendered his ass to me with no complaints, and before you couldsay mazel tov, I was fucking his butt like I’d been doing it all my life.”Take it, Josh!” I panted as I slammed away at him. “Shit, you’re not a mantoday, you’re a bitch–a fucking Jewish American Princess–and I’m gonnafuck you and shoot my load right up your bitch ass!”My put-down set something off in Josh because he suddenly yelled out, “Yeah,FUCK me, Deshawn! Fuck me hard! I wanna feel that big black dick shoot agallon of come up my fucking ass!” And he started lifting his butt to meetmy down strokes, guaranteeing that I would end up giving him exactly what hewanted.At that point all the talking stopped again and the only sounds that couldbe heard were our naked bodies slapping together and our labored breathingas Josh and I tried in this initial coupling to make up for everything wehadn’t done before. And while I had taught myself, through frequentmasturbation sessions, how to prolong my pleasure, it was such a totalturn-on to finally hump Josh’s hot Jewish hiney that I knew I wouldn’t beable to hold off my orgasm much longer. Sure enough, after no more thananother minute of banging my friend’s booty, my climax zapped me and, with agasp, I drove my dong as far up Josh’s butt as I could.”Shit! I’m coming! Take it right up your ass, you fucking bitch!”Pressing Josh’s small sweaty body hard into the mat, my own body began toquake as I shot stream after stream of sperm deep in my friend’s bowels. Iwas right in the middle of doing this when Josh also gasped and I felt himtrembling underneath me. When he relaxed, with my dick still up his ass, Iput my arm around him and gently rolled us onto our sides. I smiled when Ispotted the gooey white glob on the red mat.After lying spooned against Josh for several minutes–getting off on theheat of his body and the contrast of his light skin against my dark skin asI waited for our breathing to return to normal–I eased my hips back untilmy spent dick plopped out of his anus. The moment we were disconnected, Iturned onto my back, spread my legs, and propped myself up on my elbows toget a look at my cock. It was covered with a disgusting-looking combinationof sperm, Vaseline and shit.”Now suck my dick, bitch.”When Josh turned towards me and spotted my cock, so proudly glistening withgunk, his eyes got big and this look of apprehension came across his face.Glancing up at me, he crawled between my legs, then leaned over and sniffedmy prick, frowning from the odor of his own ass.”Well?” I asked. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”Again glancing up at me, Josh gave the head of my cock a tentative lickthen, closing his eyes, slipped the whole thing in his mouth, making meshudder.”Ooh! Yeah, Josh, suck that dick! Clean that shit off it!”With Josh slurping on my dick, I could feel it slowly begin to grow again,even though it had been only minutes since I’d shot my load up his ass. Iwas sure this would never have happened had I been alone in my room afterjacking off. But being here, sitting on a gym mat in the sub-basement of asynagogue while my cute little Jewish friend, still wearing his yarmulke,sucked his own shit my cock, was so much more stimulating that my newlypubertal body couldn’t help reacting to it all.After thoroughly tongue-washing my prick, Josh pulled his mouth off it witha pop and a sticky strand of saliva, which stretched from my cockhead to hisbottom lip. Licking away the spit, he looked up at me with the mostpuppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen. But I wasn’t ready just yet to let him offthe hook.”Now lick up that mess you made on the mat.”Without a second thought, Josh backed up, turned to the side and, crouchinglow, began to lap up the semen he’d spurted on the mat. While he did that,I crouched even lower behind him to see what his fucked asshole looked like. I was shocked to see a big loose red hole where the tight little pink onehad been and a big blob of white slime oozing out of that hole.But the harder I peered at the nasty-looking spunk-drooling opening, whichfor thirteen years had been Josh’s virgin anus, the hornier I got, and onceagain acting on pure sexual instinct, I leaned forward, palmed Josh’s smallbuns, and stuck my tongue up his ass.”Ooh!” he gasped in surprise as I began to suck my jizz out of his asshole.Being that I had shot a pretty healthy load in Josh’s mouth not all thatlong ago, I was surprised how much sperm I was finding in his butt. No,it wasn’t a gallon, but it seemed damned close to it. Soon I felt Joshtense up, and when I pulled my tongue out of him, he farted, his anus notonly puffing gas but also spitting come into my mouth; and when I began totongue his hole again, I ended up licking out little bits of shit as well.After giving Josh’s pooper a good working over, I pulled back to observe myhandiwork. I was pleased to see that while still red–and now shiny aswell–his asshole had pretty much returned to its normal size, though itwould never again be the same. If there was any doubt in my mind aboutthis, it disappeared when Josh flexed his pucker and, about three secondslater, despite all my licking, a tiny drop of sperm sprouted out of it.”So how’d it feel getting your ass fucked, Bar Mitzvah Boy?”"Awesome,” Josh said with his face still down and his ass still up. “ButI’m probably gonna be sore back there for a week.”"Well, just think of it as a nice reminder of your special day.”Raising his head, he turned and smiled at me, and I couldn’t help crawlingover and giving him a big kiss on his pretty pink lips, slipping my tonguein his mouth to give him a taste of what I’d just eating out of his asshole. Afterwards I flipped onto my back, folded my hands under the back of myhead and stared up at the ceiling, quietly contemplating the fluorescentfixtures while Josh fondled my stomach. I don’t know if it was his touch,the fact that I was feeling so relaxed, or a combination of the two, but itwasn’t long before I felt a familiar stirring in my gut.”Hey, Josh, is there any more toilet paper in there, or did we use the lastof it?”"I’m not sure. Why?”"‘Cause I think I have to take a shit.”Shifting my gaze away from the ceiling, I looked at Josh, who had stoppedrubbing my belly and was now staring at me with the strangest expression.”What’s the matter?” I asked, knowing full well what we’d discussed beforeabout wanting to watch each other do number two.”Uhh…Deshawn, how’d you like to give me the best present EVER for my barmitzvah.”"I thought I just did.”"Well, yeah, the ass fuck was great, and like I said, I’ve been wanting itsince about five minutes after we met. But there’s something else I’vewanted from you since about five SECONDS after we met.”I could feel my mouth going dry and my heart beating faster and faster.”I’m assuming it has something to do with the fact that I said I had to takea crap.”He nodded, and I could see his ears turning red.”So…does it involve any of the things we talked about before?”"Uhh…no.”"So you mean you wanna do something OTHER than watch me go?”Now Josh’s whole face began to flush until it was almost as red as the gymmats, and he quickly looked away from me, staring down at the floor.”Well…uhh…kind of, but it’s always been kinda hard to say’cause…well…it’s a little…uhh…extreme.”I wondered what could be more extreme than Josh chasing his little brotheroff the toilet so he could smell his shit. But then something clicked in mybrain, and my face got hot and the hair on the back of my neck stood up asit suddenly occurred to me what Josh really wanted. Now I understood why hehad only picked at his food upstairs: He was leaving room for somethingelse! I guess I could have kept asking questions to coax the actual requestout of him, but I decided instead to plunge blindly into my assumption andsee if I was right.”Shit, Josh, you’re being such a pussy about telling me what it is, Ioughtta just shit in your fucking mouth.”I watched as he quickly looked up at me again, his eyes alive withanticipation. “Would you?”I smiled, smugly pleased that I was right. “Sure. Anything for the BarMitzvah Boy. But what are you gonna do after your mouth is full of mycrap?”Josh licked his lips. “Eat it,” he said quietly, and I could clearly seejust how hard he was trying to contain his elation.I squinched up my face in a mock look of disgust. “You’re gonna do WHAT?”"I’m gonna eat your fucking shit!”Maintaining my frown, I shook my head. “Damn! You’re the nastiest littlefuck I ever met. Come on; let’s go.” I began walking towards the bathroom.”I’m gonna dump my whole load right in your fucking mouth, ’cause that’sjust what a nasty little fuck like you deserves.”Never in my life had I seen anyone move so fast, as Josh scrambled to hisfeet and scampered off, easily beating me to the bathroom. I couldn’tbelieve how excited he was about getting shitted in the mouth or how excitedI was about doing it. But once we were in the bathroom, where there wasonly one toilet stall and a sink, neither of us was exactly sure how toproceed, since we were both novices at being scat perverts. Finally Iwalked into the stall, lifted the toilet seat, stepped up on the porcelainrim of the bowl, and squatted, holding on to the tank for support. Then Iturned my head back to look at Josh. He had gotten down on his knees behindme and was sitting back on his heels.”Is this okay?” I asked.”Uh-huh,” he said, nodding quickly while staring wide-eyed at my ass.”Okay, get ready, fuck face, ’cause here it comes.”Turning away from Josh I stared at a spot on the wall, took a deep breath,and focused on moving my bowels. It wasn’t easy. I was so excited whatwe were doing that it was hard to relax. But it wasn’t long before the needto go surpassed the anxiety about going and I felt that comfortingmass-on-the-move feeling.”Can you see it?” I asked.”Uh-huh,” Josh acknowledged, sounding as if he were out of breath. Then hedid something that let me know he’d made a conviction about seeing thisfreaky performance through: Just as the turd began to push out of myasshole, he held on to my ass cheeks and sealed his lips over my anus.”Oh, fuck! Yeah, Josh, EAT my fucking shit!”"Glurrp! Glurrp!” he responded.As I wallowed in the warm sensation of emptying my bowels, it was hard tobelieve that they were emptying into my good friend’s mouth, and I wonderedhow he was managing to swallow everything I was feeding him. And when, acouple of seconds later, the smell hit me, I also wondered how he was ableto take what my own nose was barely able to bear.”Eat that stink shit, you fucking toilet-mouth bitch!”"Glurrp! Glurrp!”While I was certainly being loud with my commands and Josh nearly as loud inslurping down my shit, even if we had both been as quiet as church mice,anyone within a hundred yards of that bathroom would have known that someonewas in there taking a major crap because it was coming out of me so noisily,each offering of turd mixed in with a lot of farting, all of which echoedloudly off the walls of the bathroom as my intestines pushed everything intothe Bar Mitzvah Boy’s mouth. And those shitting sounds alone made what Joshand I were doing all the more disgusting and all the more exciting at thesame time.Pretty soon I was flexing my sphincter in vain, for my bowels were totallyempty, so I carefully turned around to see just what I’d given myshit-loving friend. What I saw will be forever impressed on my brain: Josh,moaning, was sitting on his heels again with his head back, his eyes closed,and the tail-end of a light-brown turd sticking out of his mouth. For amoment I just stared at him. There was just something about this cute,almost girlish-looking little Jewish kid sitting there with my shit in hismouth, thoroughly savoring it as he tugged at his erection, that almost mademe swoon. And again without thinking about what I was doing, I hopped offthe toilet, took his face in my hands, and pressed my lips over his, suckingthe turd right out of his mouth.”Mmmmmmmm!” we both moaned as we pushed the turd back and forth from mymouth to his in a spectacular shitty kiss. When the half-dissolved turdfound its way back in my mouth for the umpteenth time, though, Josh pulledhis head back and, with shit smeared all over his lips and teeth, panted,”Fuck! I’m ready to come!”Holding the turd in the side of my mouth, I bent down, snatched Josh’s handoff his dick, and slipped it all the way into my mouth, making him shudder.But I managed to slide my lips up and down the slender shaft only a coupleof times before Josh gasped and used his freed hand to pull down on the backof my head, forcing my face into his crotch.”Ah! Ah! Ah!” and with each exclamation, his prick spurted a slimy littleglob of semen into my mouth.I waited until the pulsations of Josh’s pecker stopped and it began toshrink before pulling it out of my mouth, holding my head back, andswallowing his come and my shit. I then went back in the stall andretrieved the unopened roll of toilet paper that I’d seen on the tank.Ripping off the cover, I balled it up and tossed it at Josh, laughing as itbounced off the top of his head. Then I attached the new roll to the rollerand pulled off a long piece of tissue, which I waved in front of Josh’sface.”Okay, shit-eater, tell me what I’m gonna do with this.”"Uhh…wipe your ass?” he answered, his eyes widening.”Right. Now tell me what YOU’RE gonna do with it.”"Uhh…eat it?”"Right again, fuck face,” and I immediately stooped down, reached behindmyself, gave my asshole a good healthy wipe, then stood up again. When Ilooked at the toilet paper, I wasn’t surprised to see a thick brown smear onit, which I showed to Josh. He stared at it then sniffed it, crinkling hisnose at the odor.”Yeah, it looks and smells a little different from the piece I wiped yourmouth with, doesn’t it?”He nodded.”Okay, open.”Just like before, Josh opened his mouth as wide as he could. I balled upthe toilet paper and stuffed it inside, making sure to put the shittiestpart on his tongue.”Now wait,” I said. Staring straight into Josh’s clear blue eyes, I beganto work up a mouthful of saliva, which I was pretty sure he could hearsloshing around between my teeth and tongue. When my mouth was full ofspit, I leaned over until my lips were directly above his open mouth andslowly dribbled it out, watching as it saturated the soiled toilet paper.When I’d emptied my mouth, I moved back and surveyed the soggy, shittytoilet paper that filled my friend’s mouth.”Okay, Bar Mitzvah Boy, do your thing.”Right away Josh began to chew, his eyes again wide open and locked on mineas he smacked away even louder than before, making what he was doing soundespecially nasty. I just watched and listened, getting hornier and hornieras his spit, mine, and the shitty toilet paper squished and squashed into amessy pulp. I wanted to add to the disgusting mixture pissing in hismouth, but even though I had to go, my dick was so hard then that I knewit would be nearly impossible.But not if I came first; so I grabbed my erection and, still staring down atJosh, began to jack off. With Josh crouched down in front of me, my dickwas at the level of his face, and I watched as he broke eye contact with mea couple of times to glance at it. I was so turned on what Josh wasdoing and what I was about to do that it took very little stroking totrigger my orgasm, and half a minute later I felt that wonderful pre-releasesensation that I recognized so well but which today seemed so differentbecause it was so much more intense.”Shit! I’m coming! Take it right in your fucking face, bitch!”Half a second later a stream of sperm exploded out of my piss slit andplopped in a long sticky rope onto Josh’s face, making him flinch eventhough he knew it was coming. This was followed three more spurts, andJosh either sensed that I wanted to give him a facial or decided he didn’twant another dose of my “snot” just yet because he stopped chewing andsimply kept his mouth closed as I painted his face from forehead to chin,including a shot that splattered over his forehead, eyelid and cheek. WhenI had emptied my balls, I moved in as close to Josh as I could, wiped thelast drop of sperm off on his nose, then stuck my shrinking cock in hismouth.”You know what I’m gonna do now, don’t you?” I asked, staring at hisscummed-up mug.Josh opened his come-free eye and, meeting my gaze, answered “Nn-hn” mostlythrough his nose before again closing his eye. I closed my eyes too, tryinghard to relax enough to empty my very full bladder. It took several secondsfor the first of my piss to begin to trickle out.”Mmph!” Josh said, his eyes pinching shut and his brow furrowing as Istarted to pee a little faster, quickly filling his mouth.”Now swallow it, bitch! Swallow it NOW!”When I heard a loud gulp and saw Josh’s Adam’s apple move, I knew that hehad followed my orders, and that down in his tummy, my piss was combiningwith my spit, my sperm and my shit to form a pretty unholy mixture on thisholiest day of the week for Jews. And after Josh swallowed that firstmouthful of piss, it seemed to set something off in my brain and bladder,because right afterwards, they both let go and my stream gushed into thepoor boy’s mouth, forcing him to guzzle down several more mouthfuls of pissto keep from drowning. In fact, it shot out so fast that it wasn’t longbefore I felt it drying up, upon which I slowly pulled my dick out of Josh’smouth, which surprised him since, at the time, I was still peeing.”Open your mouth like you did before,” I said, “but don’t swallow.”Josh complied, and as I continued to tinkle into my friend’s toilet mouth, Ihoped I wasn’t too far off in my calculation of how much piss I had left.Somehow, though, I’d measured just right, for Josh’s mouth came just shortof overflowing as the last of my urine squirted into it.Having finally finished pissing, I took a few moments to just look at Josh.His face was still covered with sticky, drying globs of come and inside hiswide-open mouth was a golden lake that, despite all his swallowing, had tinyslivers of toilet paper floating in it, probably from pieces that had gottencaught between his teeth. It had to be the filthiest and yet the mosterotic sight I’d ever seen, one that Josh himself needed to experience,which is why I carefully turned him around and directed him to the mirrorover the sink, standing behind him as he looked at himself with his oneavailable eye.”E!” he responded, his brow again furrowing. Snickering at hisfeigned revulsion, I turned him around and wiped the sperm off his other eyeso he could get a good look at me working up another mouthful of saliva.When I was ready, I stared down at my shorter friend, winked, and spat thefrothy blob into his mouth, watching as it floated on top of my pee. Then Icupped Josh’s cheeks in my hands, opened my mouth, and sealed my lips overhis, totally surprising him.And it surprised him even more when, with our lips locked, I slowly stoopeddown until I was low enough for the piss and spit to flow from his mouthinto mine. When I’d taken about half of it, I raised up again until ourheads were level and Josh and I flicked our tongues together until, on myhummed count of three, we both swallowed. Afterwards we broke our kiss andlicked our lips, grinning at each other like naughty nursery school boys.Finally I began to lick my semen off Josh’s face, sweeping my tongue allover his forehead, cheeks, eyelid, nose, chin and everywhere else as Joshstood there with his eyes shut tight and his face twitching every time mytongue touched it. Then I kissed him again, pushing the come into his mouth;and he sucked on my tongue, ensuring he’d taken everything. I felt his oralmuscles contract as he swallowed, after which I backed away from him,smiled, and gave him a final peck on his wet lips.”Happy bar mitzvah.”"Thanks.”Then we hugged, and right in the middle of our embrace, just as I wasrelishing the warmth and softness of Josh’s skin pressing up against my own,his cell phone rang.”Shit!” Josh said, pulling away from me and running out of the bathroom. Istrolled out after him. It was his father again, saying that Josh and Ineeded to come back since several relatives were ready to leave and wantedto say goode to the Bar Mitzvah Boy.After hanging up, Josh just looked at me and shrugged; then we gave eachother a final little hug and began taking our clothes off the hooks andsorting them out. Before getting dressed, though, I remembered that I hadgiven my ass only one wipe after shitting in Josh’s mouth, so I headed backto the bathroom. But Josh insisted on licking the leftover shit out of myass and, stretching out face up on the nearest mat, told me to squat overhis face. I did, facing his feet, and was treated not only to the sensationof his very active, very flexible tongue wiggling around in my anus,cleaning it in a way toilet paper never could, but also to the sight ofJosh’s legs squirming, his prick twitching, and his knuckles turning whiteas he gripped my thighs, all evidence of how turned on he was getting fromeating out my shitty asshole.Only a minute or so later, I reluctantly raised up, reminding Josh that wehad to get going. Looking up at me, he manufactured the most disappointedlook he could muster, topping it off poking his lip out; then he smiled,opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, which now had a nice rich coatingon it that just happened to be the same color as my shit. I just shook myhead.We started getting dressed but got only as far as our underwear when thatimage of Josh’s shitty tongue reminded me that we needed to check eachother’s breath. So we breathed into each other’s faces, trying to see howbad it was. But just like two people who’ve eaten onions or garlic can’tsmell it on each other’s breath, Josh and I were unable to detect anyobvious shit or piss odor on ours. We both knew it had to be there, though,so we rinsed our mouths out as thoroughly as we could with warm water, andJosh said that when we went back upstairs, all we had to do was eat somepickled herring because it would overpower whatever foul breath we had.Once we’d finished dressing, we carefully checked each other out and leftthe exercise room, making our way back along the narrow corridors until wewere again in front of the furnace. Then it was back through the door, backup the stairs and slowly, stealthily opening the door an inch at a timeuntil we were able to slip back unnoticed into the reception room and hidebehind the pillar. Josh’s parents and relatives were all looking towardsthe main staircase to catch us coming down, so we were easily able to duckdown, scoot over to the pickled herring and get a good couple of mouthfulsof it before standing up and walking around to let everyone see that we hadreturned.When the departing relatives spotted Josh, they flocked to him like motherhens, hugging him and kissing him and squeezing his cheeks as if were a bigteddy bear. And just because I was Josh’s friend and standing beside him, Ireceived my own share of hugging and kissing and squeezing. And through itall, whenever Josh and I caught each other’s gazes, we would say to eachother, in our own private telepathic language, “Today I am a man.”