Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2008 20:07:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zac Grech <zaccooee@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: Bad Boys

	Where I come from, regular guys get force-fucked. Only pussyboys
take cock.  That's the game we play.
	It was three o'clock in the morning when my friend Dan and I left
the club and started looking for a taxi to get us home.  That's when I
realized that some fucker had pinched my wallet.  Dan, as usual, had three
dollars left, which wouldn't get us to the next corner.
	'I know,' he said suddenly, peering at me through long strands of
dark hair.  'My brother lives just up the road past the park - we can crash
there.'
	'OK,' I said.  'Are you sure he wouldn't mind?'
	'Ben?  Nah.  Even if he's got someone with him, we can crash in the
living room.  He's got one of those pull-out beds.'
	Ben didn't seem especially pleased to see us at ten past three, but
threw us some sheets and pointed to the divan.  I was too nervous and tired
to take much in - I just had the impression of an older, tougher version of
Dan in the half dark. They both looked to me a bit like Sicilian gangsters,
to be honest, with the possibility of a tender (although still unshaven)
side if they liked you.
	We made the bed, stripped and jumped in.  I kept my jocks on, but
Dan slept completely naked and I had a brief picture of myself ramming my
cock into his shaggy bunghole from behind - pure fantasy, we didn't fuck,
but the thought of a bit of buddy-rape always did get my balls churning.
Four hairy legs thrashing about, then - WHAM! you nail him.  Nice guy, but
you're top dog, and he's got your spooge dripping out of his gaping hole to
prove it.
	'Morning, boys.'  Shit!  Seven o'clock already.  Dan's brother was
standing in the doorway in his bathrobe, stretching and yawning.  Tousled
dark hair, and slim, black-haired legs.  He finished stretching and leant
against the door-jamb, grinning across at us on our makeshift bed.  'Sleep
well?'  A bad-boy smile ... I felt a pang of cock-hunger shoot up my arse
from my balls into my gut.  He reached inside his bathrobe and scratched at
his chest.  It was shaven.  I could see the black hairs glinting on his
pecs from across the room.  He didn't seem to care that his robe was
starting to fall open as he scratched. I just had time to cop an eyeful of
a wildly tangled black bush with some sort of tattoo snaking up out of it
before he turned and headed back into his bedroom.  'Toast and coffee OK?'
he called back out to us.
	'What does he do?' I asked turning to Dan who was also stretching
and yawning on the bed beside me.
	'Hotel manager.'
	'How old is he?' I didn't care how old Ben was, of course, but I
had to say something.  I could already feel the zing in my cock.  Those
cropped chest-hairs and lean legs had woken me up.
	'Ben?  I don't know ... thirty-one, thirty-two.  Why?'
	'Sexy-looking guy,' I said.  'Shaves his chest.  That's sexy, too.'
(Shouldn't have said that.)
	'Hey, Ben!' Dan called out in a croaky voice.  'Zac here thinks
you're a sexy-looking guy!'  I socked him in the arm.  'He likes your
shaven chest!'
	'Shut the fuck up, Dan!'  I could feel myself blushing.  I grabbed
a pillow and belted him over the face with it.  He cupped his balls in case
I made a grab for them.  At the same time I felt my cock snap up hard
against my stomach.  From the other room came a throaty chuckle.
	'What can I say?' Ben called out, his voice still husky from
sleep. 'Keep up the sweet talk, Zac, and you never know what you might get
for breakfast.'
	Fuck me! What did THAT mean?  My mouth went dry.  Dan guffawed.  I
hit him again with the pillow and then took aim at his balls, which he'd
now left unguarded.  He doubled up, lashing out at my groin.  We monkeyed
around for a bit, doing what buddies do when they get up close and dirty,
smacking each other around and, when we got a chance, jabbing at each
other's crotches.  Finally I landed a fist in his nuts and he yelped,
curled up on his side, hands over his balls, cursing. I flung myself down
behind him and tried to reach round and wrap my fist around them. My prong,
still in its pouch but rearing to go, jammed itself into his arse-crack. I
smelt the ripe dirty-boy smell that always hits you in the nostrils when an
uncut cock - especially Dan's - starts peeling back.  'You dirty mongrel -
you like getting socked in the balls, don't you?' I whispered into his
ear. Then I bit it.  'It's given you a hard-on.'
	Dan started squirming and trying to punch me in the groin.  'Ben!
Zac's trying to rape me!'  Silence from Ben's room.  'Ben!  Your little
brother's getting raped!  Help!  Do something!'
	'Keep your voice down, Dan, or the neighbours will be calling the
police.'  Ben came back into the room half-dressed on his way to the
kitchen. 'His white shirt was hanging open while he buttoned the cuffs.
Boy, that glistening stubbly chest of his really turned me on. The cropped
curls made me think of ... I wasn't quite sure what.  Cock-hair, I
guess. Animal maleness. 'If you want croissants instead of toast, I'll have
to duck downstairs to the deli to get them ...  Want croissants?' He was
looking straight at us, but didn't seem to care at all that these two young
males wrestling naked amongst the sweaty sheets on his divan were obviously
just an inch away from fucking each other.  I mean, I still had my jocks
on, but his brother was spreadeagled on his back at this point, legs spread
wide, trying to fight me off.
	'Yeah, sounds great,' Dan said.
	'OK, back in minute. Why don't you get up and put the coffee on,
Dan?'
	As soon as the door slammed, there was a sticky moment on the
night-and-day bed. What should the next move be?  We'd gone a bit too far
this time to pretend we were just joshing. He lay there breathing heavily,
pulling on his swollen fuck-stick. He eyed my swollen pouch and grinned at
me. 'Zac, mate,let's finish each other off.'
	'WHAT?! Here on your brother's divan?'
	'Why not?  Let's do it.'
	I looked at his long, stiff cock, rearing up out of his thick,
black bush, the knob leaking into the hairs of his treasure-trail.
	'Jesus, Dan ... I don't know, mate ... what if your brother comes
back while we're ... you know ...
	He sat up in a kneeling position, his hairy cumstick poking out at
me. 'Come on, let's get each other off. First one to come gets fucked.
Anything goes - no holds barred.'
	'OK,' I said, getting up on my haunches to face him.  'But what
about the coffee?'
	'Bugger the coffee. Now, get your jocks off, mate - I can't jerk
you off with them on ... Oh, fuck, Zac, your pubes are stiff with dried
ball-juice, look at them, you're disgusting - did you jack off during the
night?  Filthy fucker ... OK, GO!!'
	We both lunged for each other's cocks, but Dan soon wrestled me
onto my back, straddling me with his hole in my face while he smacked my
nuts around and thrashed my cock.  Then in one vicious stab he jammed two
fingers up my hole. I yelped and bucked like a stuck pig.
	'Noisy fucker you are, Zac - worse than your skanky brother.'
	'You've been finger-fucking my brother?'  Fucking hell!  I'd been
treating him with kid gloves ever since he'd moved in with me - just
seventeen, a wide-eyed innocent from the bush - and Dan had already had two
fingers and who knows what else up his arse. 'And what do you mean
"skanky"?'
	'Get real, Zac,' he chuckled, taking my rod in his mouth to get it
wet, 'I've been ramming my cock up his sweaty, blond-haired arse every
night after footy practice since he joined the under-eighteens.'  He
started full-fisted strokes on my cock, hair to knob, and sat back on my
face.  All I could do was reach round and jack on his cock from behind.
Shit, I was angry!
	Ever since he'd moved in, even when I'd come home with a raging
boner a couple of times and he'd been lying in bed stinking of sex, like a
dog on heat, I'd left him alone.  I could so easily have shared a joint
with him, put on a DVD, started fooling around a bit, slurped at his
honey-pot and then fucked his brains out - in fact it had seemed a bit of a
waste of a hot, tight arsehole not to - but I hadn't. Meanwhile, as it
turned out, he'd been copping it several times a week from my best mate
Dan, his coach - and, for all I knew, the rest of the team as well.
Fucking yodelling for more, probably (a bit like cousin Jack, but that's
another story). Filthy little alleycat. If he was still at home when I got
back after breakfast, I'd fuck his eyeballs out on the spot, no questions
asked.  Boy, was I feeling juiced up.  And if he wouldn't spread his legs
for me, I'd nail young Rory at work - behind the sheds, in the toilets,
wherever. By lunchtime at the latest I'd have Rory fucked senseless.  I was
on the warpath.
	Meanwhile, Dan leant forward to have another slurp on my knob.  I
looked at his hole. Fuck, it looked hot.  A bit woolly (like my kid
brother's, actually) with a spray of black hairs around the hole, but the
lips were more swollen, more used-looking than Mick's. I fingered it
gingerly.  Moist and velvety inside.  He moaned.  And the smell went
straight to my cock.  Man-cunt.  Juicy man-cunt, open for business.
	Reaching between his slim, hair-streaked thighs for his straining
cock, I sank my face into his warm, hairy trench, guzzling at his pucker.
Maybe that would get him shooting his spooge. Wrong! It sent a bolt of
burning jizz straight up out of my nuts into my cock-head. I was in
trouble.  Downstairs we heard the door onto the street slam shut, Ben was
on his way up the stairs.  My mind was seething with pictures and smells -
the wiry thicket in Ben's groin, Dan's dribbling cock, aching to slice up
into me, my brother's raw fuck-hole, the stink of warm, unwashed boy-cunt,
Dan's slimy fingers scraping at my prostate, making me ache for cock ... he
had me skewered and bucking, balls boiling, as Ben ran up the stairs.
'Yeah, hit that button, Dan - come on, HIT IT, buddy.  Oh, yeah ... oh
fuck, oh man, yeah, that's it ... ram those fingers into me ... oh, yes,
oh, YES!  Damn!  Fuck, here it comes!'  And as Ben's key went into the
door, I started pumping ropes of hot cream up into Dan's face.  As Ben
crossed the room to the kitchen, waving the bag of croissants at us, we
collapsed into the tangle of sheets, with my burning cock still springy and
leaking like a tap, he called out: 'Come and get it while it's hot, boys.'
Was he blind or something?
	Dan laughed softly right into my ear.  'Oh, boy, Zac!  Am I going
to fuck that sweet hole of yours - big time!  I'm going to rape the cum
right out of your balls. I'm going to rape your balls dry, mate.' Then he
kissed me.  That was against the rules.  Stubble and warm saliva.  Fuck, it
was a turn-on. I could've gone again.  But I grabbed my jocks and a t-shirt
and went into the kitchen to join Ben.  Dan went off to take a shower.
	'No coffee?'
	'No, sorry, Ben, we kind of ...'
	'Fuck, he's slack, that brother of mine.  Needs a good kick in the
balls to wake him up.'
	Neither of us spoke for a while.  Ben read the paper while he
ate. I was just licking my fingers after my second croissant when he put
the newspaper down, took a swig of coffee and flashed me a big smile.  'So,
Zac,' he said, looking me straight in the eye.  'Are you shagging my
brother?'
	'Shit, no, Ben - I mean ...'
	'Well, someone's fucking someone, I can smell it.  And it ain't
me.'  He laughed.  'Not this morning, anyway.'
	'Well, I'm not SHAGGING him, if you see what I mean.  We were just
horsing around, you know ... kind of got a bit over-excited, I guess.
Happens sometimes.
	'Like fucking men, do you, Zac?'
	My cockhead was starting to ping again. That sweet sting. The shaft
started to uncurl again in my jocks, fattening and tugging at the stiff,
cum-soaked hairs.  'I'm not sure.  I haven't had a lot of experience.'
	Ben just grinned and got to his feet and glanced at his watch.
Wrist glistening with thick, black hairs.  'I've got to go, some of us have
to work. Listen, Zac, next time you're in town, give us a buzz.  Here's my
number.' Then, reaching down, he pulled at the waist of my jocks and
dropped the bit of paper into my still damp, hair-clogged groin.  'Don't
leave it too long, will you?'  Another of his bad-boy smiles.  His jaws
were blue, he needed a good shave. And with that he tightened his tie,
grabbed his briefcase and was off. There's nothing sexier than raw, male
meat squeezed into a nice suit.  Man, I practically crawled after him
begging him to fuck me.  What had come over me? I was nobody's cum-dump.
	I was so horned up by what this ballsy brother of Dan's had just
done that when Dan finally came into the kitchen, half naked and drying his
hair, I'd forgotten that he'd be expecting to bang me up against the wall
and rape my wet, hairy loser's butt for me.  I was running late for work,
though, so I quickly started heading back to the living-room to change.
	'So where do you think you're going?'
	'I've got to get home, get changed and get to work, Dan.'
	'First you owe me a fuck.  That's the deal'
	'Such a sweet-talker.  No can do, mate. Come over tonight - you can
do both of us, side by side. Promise.'  As if.
	'I want it now, Zac.'  He got up and ambled over to me.
	'Don't make me knee you in the balls, Dan ...'
	He kneed me in the balls instead, just to be on the safe side -
exquisitely painful, but it got me fuck-ready in no time.  I like a man who
knows how to mess with his mate's balls.
	'Hang yourself off the couch, Zac, arse pointing upwards.' So I did
as I was told, got eaten out till my hole was spasming with hunger, then
got raped quite savagely, given he was still half-asleep. 'Great fuck, Zac
- that fuck-chute of yours was made for my cock.  I should've been emptying
my nuts up that hole of yours from the start.' I made a mental note to take
my humiliation out on somebody, painfully - very soon.
  	When I got home, Mick was still sprawled on his grubby bed,
smelling of cum and boy sweat as usual.  Well, any minute now he'd be
smelling of freshly fucked arse as well. I yanked him to his feet.  'What's
wrong?' he croaked.  I socked him hard in the nuts.  'Fuck, man!  What was
that for?' he whimpered.  I threw him face-down on the bed and spread his
arse-cheeks.  Sure enough, his pucker was loose and slimy - he'd been
getting regularly fucked. I wondered how many loads he had sloshing around
up there. 'Who's been fucking you, Mick?'  'Nobody, honest!' I reached in
between his legs and grabbed his balls, squeezing hard.  'OK, OK - I've had
a few cocks up there.  What's it to you, you bastard?'  I crushed his balls
again, brutally.  'Don't you call me a bastard, you little cock-whore.
You're not just living with me, remember, you're living off me.  Yesterday
morning I could've killed for a fuck, but like a good older brother I
wanked off in the shower.  Meanwhile you're giving it to fucking Dan - and
half the football team, probably.  Where do you do it?  In the toilets at
the sports ground?  In some guy's car?  Here?  If you're getting fucked
here, I'll ... I'll ...'  He was clenching and unclenching his hole in fear
or excitement, I could smell his fear in his sweat, he was breathing
heavily.  I unzipped and locked my cock-head into his sticky, spasming
ring.  'Please, Zac, please, dude, I'm begging you, don't fuck me ... I got
done by three guys last night, it wasn't my fault, they jumped me
... please, PLEASE, I can't take any more cock.'
	I can't resist a well-fucked hole.  His was just pouty enough to
invite more abuse, raw-looking in the middle and still greasy from his last
fuck. I punched my pole up into him and started slam-fucking him viciously.
He was sobbing into his sheets. Man, it felt good!  I'm here to tell you
that force-fucking your kid brother feels fantastic!  After just a minute
or two of jack-hammering, I grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back
so that I could jack my cock up into his gut more savagely.  Then I gushed.
The man-milk just jetted out of my cock into my brother's guts.  I pulled
out, wincing as my mushroom-head was squeezed by his convulsing ring.  I
flipped him over.  Sure enough - he was hard.  The fucking slut had loved
it.  He needed finishing off.  He looked so good - skinny, whipped,
stiff-cocked, his tangled, dirty-blond pubes wet with sweat, his slim legs
dangling off the bed so I could see the wet, furry crack I'd just ravaged.
'Milk it yourself, Mick,' I said, a little more gently.  'I've got to get
to work.' He said nothing. 'And by the way: you've just saved Rory's arse.'
	'Who's Rory?'
	'Just a kid at work.  If you're very good, I'll bring him home one
day and we can take it in turns to fuck him stupid.'
	'Cool.'  When I looked back, he was still sprawled on the bed, on
his back, scratching thoughtfully at his bush. Give it another couple of
minutes, and he'd be belting the cum out of his cock, thinking of Rory.
	Rory copped it anyway.  But what happened later that morning to
young Rory from Sales when he ducked out behind the packing shed for a
quick drag wasn't my fault. I couldn't have pinned him down and jacked my
cock up his hole without Lou to settle him down for me first. So it was
just as much Lou's fault as mine. And Lou really ape-fucked him once I'd
finished - makes me wince to think about it. When I'd said to Lou, watching
Rory slip behind the shed,'Come on, let's do him,' I hadn't meant fucking
pile-drive his arse into a pulp. I said sorry to Rory when we'd finished
fucking him and let him take the work pick-up home for the weekend to make
up. Unfortunately, he forgot to clean and polish it before giving it back -
mud and grass all over it - so I took him inside and explained how upset I
was.  He scratched his bleached buzz-cut, looked sheepish, sighed and then
did the decent thing: he turned round, dropped his jeans and bent over the
kitchen table, with his skinny legs spread wide for me, waiting to be
screwed. Good boy.  Yelped and squirmed a bit as my cock dug into his gut,
but once the heavy long-dicking started he started whooping softly with the
urgent, rippling ache of it.  He squished all over the table, gripping at
my cock with his ring, just as I started blasting into his fuck-chute -
nice timing. I don't think Lou and I are the only guys who've had him.
	About a month later he asked about borrowing the truck again for
the weekend and said could he have it without getting fucked, please, or,
if he had to get fucked, could we do it when he got back because Lou had
jumped him again behind the packing shed and ripped his arse open,
jack-hammered his brains out, apparently - it had been either that or give
up his little bag of weed.  So he was a bit tender.  Sweet, really. I took
him up to the men's room, inspected his raw, furry hole, tongued it out for
him to make him feel better and then fucked it anyway. Then I felt sorry
for the poor guy and sucked him off, just to be nice to him.  I was picking
his dirty blond pubic hairs out of my teeth for the rest of the day. His
skull's been trimmed back to the scalp, but his pubes are long enough to
knit a scarf out of. Lou reckons he needs tying down and trimming, but on a
young, smooth-chested bloke like Rory I think long, corkscrewing pubes look
kind of sexy.
	Anyway, to hell with Rory from Sales, that was all later.  The
thing is this: I didn't call Ben.  I don't know why.  I jerked off thinking
about it countless times, imagining licking that shaven chest of his
against the hairs, biting his nipples, burying my nose in his huge, musky,
black bush, choking on his tool, slurping on his matted arsehole and
... that's where the movie in my head stopped rolling. I knew what would
come next and it scared me.  Ben would fuck me and he'd be brutal.  I just
knew.  He'd play the big brother role for a while, all smiles and brotherly
slaps on the back, and then, as soon as he got me alone with the door
locked, he'd screw my fucking brains out, no holds barred.  I could just
feel it in the way he'd looked at me. He was all cock.
	Then one day I dropped around on my bike to see Dan - no particular
reason, I was just at a bit of a loose end.  Well, OK - I was hoping for a
bit of tail.  So what?  The only arses I'd had my cock up since Rory had
been my skanky brother's once or twice.  I was hot for a bit of
buddy-fucking - I mean, at twenty you need to unload into something tight,
wet and matted with hair almost every day.  I needed to be milked.
	When I got there, he was busy repainting the kitchen.  When he got
down to the skirting board, he crouched and his t-shirt rode up his back
and his pants sagged down to the top of his crack.  I was boning up inside
my shorts just looking at it - the smooth, olive skin, turning creamy just
above the crack, the fine, black hairs thickening at the top of the trench.
	Then the phone went, and while he was talking (it was Ben checking
in), just for a lark, I pulled down on his pants to bare his butt.  He told
me to fuck off and kept talking.  Then I stuck a hand into the warm crack,
feeling for his pucker and fingering the puffy lips through the fur.
'Yeah, he's here now,' he said to Ben, as I slipped one finger into the
slimy cum-hole.  'He's finger-fucking me, man!  I think he's going to try
to stick his cock in me.  Maybe you'd better get over here and rescue me,
bro ...'  I jammed another finger into his clutching hole.  I was almost
queasy with anticipation - I wanted to breed this manhole, empty my hairy
balls into it and breed it NOW.  This was too good to be true - no
resistance at all.  Open cunt.  Succulent. Unzipping, I slicked up my
aching prong with spit and jabbed it at his hole. The thing is this: all
the boys in our family - my brothers, my dad, even Uncle Scott (believe me,
I'd know) - have long, thin stalks, but fat, flared cockheads. Ramming the
head through to first base can lead to a lot of high-pitched swearing,
thrashing about and screams for us to take the fucking thing out NOW.
Usually we keep on ramming, going for broke, right up to the balls. The
knob finally popped in and then I forced it straight up, right up to my
balls.  Dan dropped the phone and swore at me: 'You fucker, what are you
doing to me?'
	'I'm horny as hell, mate,' I croaked.  'Nothing personal.  I just
can't resist an unguarded manhole.'  I grabbed the phone, said 'See you
soon, Ben' as cheekily as I could and turned it off. He tried to fight back
for moment or two, but then the cock-hunger kicked in, he pushed back into
my groin and I fucked him ape-shit. Nice bit of male bonding amongst the
paint tins.  I had the feeling I was going to want more of my buddy's tail
before too long.
	Ben arrived with a guy called Matt - Maltese-looking, or maybe
Italian, one of his employees from the hotel. Sexy little monkey, too - and
wearing nothing but a pair of overalls.  I noticed Ben's nose twitch when
he caught the first whiff of cum, but he didn't say anything.  They pitched
in straight away to help with the painting.  Now and again Ben flashed me
one of his jagged grins, but nothing much happened until he went into the
kitchen to make coffee. I followed him out.
	'Owes me a few favours, so I thought he could help out with the
paint job,' he said, cocking his head back towards Matt. 'He's been a bad
boy.'
	'Yeah?'
	'Caught him offering one of the guests extra services - for money.
Bad for our reputation.  And it wasn't the first time.  He's going to have
to be taught another lesson.'
	I shivered. He stank of maleness. It's not my usual style, but the
thought of being taught a lesson by this shaven-chested hunk made my
cock-head suddenly sting and I felt my still slimy stalk uncoiling in my
jocks. 'What do you mean - taught another lesson?' I croaked.
	Ben laughed.  'He's got an appointment in the boiler-room tomorrow
after work with a couple of the maintenance guys.'  He looked over at me
with that bad-boy grin of his.  His eyes travelled slowly up my bare legs
to my crotch.  'Spike and Sam.  Big boys.  They won't be gentle. A bit of
ball-busting, a bit of smacking about ... and then some power-rutting.
Believe me, these boys know what they're doing. He knows what's coming -
and he's shitting himself.  That's why he's here - he thinks he might get
let off for good behaviour.' Fuck, he was turning me on. I felt almost
queasy. At that moment I'd have let him do anything he wanted to me.  He
could have busted my balls on the spot and I'd have spread my legs for
more.  'It's either that or he loses his job, so ... I guess it's going to
be an hour with Spike and Sam in the boiler-room.'  He went back to
grinding the coffee.  I glanced back at Matt - he'd let the flap of his
overalls fall, baring his trim chest. Trim buns, too, when he bent over.
Definitely fuckable.'
	'Want to fuck him, Zac?  Want to stretch his hole a bit for him
before the boys get to it?  Feel free. He'll do whatever I tell him.'
	By now my cock was jutting straight up in my jocks towards my
navel.  'I, um, well, I don't know, Ben ...' I stammered.
	'Go on, mate - fuck him.  He'll think he's earning a reprieve.
Hey, Matt!'  Matt almost came running, like an eager puppy. His slim,
swarthy torso was covered in a light, sweaty sheen. Smooth, too, except for
the trail of crinkly black hair heading south from his belly-button. He
scratched at a large, swollen pebble of a nipple.  'Zac here wants to fuck
you.  Get into the bedroom.'  I could hardly breathe.
	'Sure thing, Ben.  Whatever you say, man.'  He looked slightly
wary, but obedient, like a kid about to get a thrashing he knew he
deserved.
	'So what are you waiting for?  Get in there now, on your back, legs
in the air, ready for a good fucking. Give Zac here a good look at what
he's going to be fucking.'  And off he padded.  I couldn't believe it.  'So
go and fuck him, man.  Don't take too long, though, or the coffee will go
cold.'
	'Don't worry,' I said huskily, 'I'll root the shit out of the
little monkey.'  (That was my cock talking.)
	As I turned to go, he leant over and said softly: 'Do what you like
to him, man, he's all yours.  But you'll owe me one - know what I mean?'


To be continued ...
If this hit the spot, let me know on zaccooee@yahoo.com.au