Date: Wed, 29 Sep 2010 18:47:08 +0100
From: Alex P <alexp336@gmail.com>
Subject: On the Poolboy Payroll 3

You know how it works. If you're under eighteen or somewhere this sort
of filthy isn't welcome, then run, run for the hills.

Everyone else, here's the promised third part of On the Poolboy
Payroll. Sorry it's been a while in coming; unfortunately my day-job
got in the way these past couple of weeks. Hopefully the finished
product proves worth the wait!

I've had some amazing, generous and flattering emails, and I've tried
to reply to them all. It's brilliant hearing from readers, and I love
knowing which parts of the story you like and how you think it should
progress.  As ever, you can get in touch at alexp336@gmail.com.
Thanks!

===

On the Poolboy Payroll - Part Three

***

Sweat it out, that's what my Dad says.  Anger, confusion, no matter
what - work up a sweat and you'll either get to an answer or at least
tire yourself out until you fall asleep no matter the stress.  So it's
the cross-trainer for me - 35 minutes and counting - until I figure
out where the hell my life has got to, and why I've been more
unsettled these past few days than I have the rest of my eighteen
years.

It's not working.

Perhaps it's because the gym has a dark side, its own role to play in
my self-doubt.  After all, it was here Alex found me - recruited me in
a sense - and here I returned to shake at his touch.  But deep down I
know I can't blame any location, even that brutal poolside at Simon's
house; all I can blame is myself, my own darker urges, and the
weakness inside me that pulls me back for more.

***

After I'd fled the shower, the phantom tightness that was the memory
of Cat's ass around my cock still haunting me, I'd pulled on my
clothes and made to leave.  Tony had stopped me, his long narrow
figure blocking the doorway.  He held out an envelope; it was more
stuffed than the first time around, obviously Simon had decided the
show I put on today was worth more than a simple jerk-off.

"Leaving us so soon?" Alex asked, half-smirking at me.

I blushed, looked down, tried to stuff the envelope into my bag while
pulling at my shirt where it stuck to damp skin.  He made me
uncomfortable, had done from the first time I'd met him.

"Simon says to come back tomorrow" he continued, crossing his arms.  I gulped.

"Um... I'm not sure I can..." I muttered, desperately scrabbling for an
excuse.  "I've got school."

Tony frowned, tutted.  "Strange, Alex told me you'd finished with school..."

He was right, I had - and, now that I thought about it, I'd told Alex
as such.  Guess that excuse was no use to me.

"Look, I'm not sure... I mean, I don't think..."

He fixed me with a stare; I knew he was entirely aware why I was
hedging and evasive.  Tony sighed.

"Cooper, you're a young guy, you looked like you were having a good
time today and I'm pretty sure Cat was having a good time too.  Don't
get too... hung up on all this stuff."  He stepped to one side, clearing
the doorway.  "The guy you might be tomorrow isn't fucked up by the
guy you are today, okay?"

***

I'd tried to hand the keys back then, break another connection, but
he'd refused, waved me away.  So I ended up driving the Mini home
again, parking halfway down the street and finishing the last on foot.
 In fact I was home alone, and I took the opportunity to have another
shower.  I didn't feel dirty, I wasn't trying to "wash away my sins",
but the thrum of falling water always relaxed me - helped quiet some
of the anxious thoughts rushing through my head.

Perhaps it was the pinprick feel as the needles of water bounced off
my skin, or the white noise echoing off glass and tile.  No matter; it
worked, that's all I cared about right now.  I kicked off my shoes and
tugged off my vest, unsnapped my shorts and let them drop to my feet.
I'd not bothered with the briefs again after showering at Simon's,
instead slipping into my shorts commando.

I couldn't help but look down at my dick, hanging limply, as if to
check out whether it had changed after being used to fuck a boy for
the first time.  Of course, it hadn't - just the same old inches - but
I did notice scratch marks around the sides of my torso where Cat had
obviously got carried away with me.  Nothing serious; the pale red
lines reminded me of his clinging to me, as my hips bucked underneath
and drove my cock up into his hot tightness.

I felt myself stirring, hurried onward to the shower.  I hadn't wanted
to relive the experience, though I suppose it being my most
significant sexual encounter to-date, it was no surprise that my body
felt somewhat differently.

***

I slept better than I'd expected to, but lying in bed the next morning
my stomach had been a knot of anxiety.  I'd spent the first few hours
listlessly cycling between the kitchen, the TV and the internet,
seldom finding anything to maintain my attention for longer than a few
minutes.  On the face of it, I knew I was under no obligation to go
back to Simon's - well, beyond returning the car - but yet the draw
there was practically irresistible.  Part of me wondered whether it
was not wanting to let Alex down, that he was my "gateway drug", but I
couldn't deny that, for all the uncertainty and discomfort, I'd also
got a whole lot of sexual pleasure out of my two visits.

There were still doubts in my mind just after lunchtime, when I
climbed behind the wheel of the Mini.  There were doubts as I drove to
Simon's house, wind doing the double duty of helping clear my head and
messing up my hair like no bed-head styling ever could.  And there
were doubts - and a painfully hard erection - as I sat in the car in
his garage, plucking up the courage to step out and face whatever
boundary-stretching, identity-defining event might await me.

***

Even though by now I knew the way to the pool, Alex still met me
halfway down the path as it curved around the stark edge of the
building.  I couldn't help my half-smile; I'd been wondering what he
might be wearing today, reasoning we wouldn't see either the first
swimsuit or yesterday's singlet, seeing as how Simon apparently didn't
like his boys to repeat themselves.

In fact, he was almost conservative - well, by Alex's standards.  A
pair of blue jean cut-offs, fraying edges just above his knees, that
sagged precariously low under his narrow waist.  Only the curve of his
hips kept them in place, I could tell, but it was still enough to
expose a fair smudge of his tightly razored pubes.  A little more
bizarrely, he had two stripes of eye black - like a footballer might
wear - under his eyes.  On anyone else it might look ridiculous, but
it somehow simply made him look more boyish and cute.

I'd expected an arm around my shoulder, but Alex kept coming forward
and pulled me in with a full-on hug.  He was taller than me, and my
head rested almost in the crook of his neck as he wrapped me up in his
beefy arms.

"Dude, great to see you!"

His enthusiasm was contagious, as ever.  I'd wanted to stay a little
more distant - a little less keen to lose my pants and my inhibitions
- but Alex's charm made that difficult to do.

"Great to squash me, you mean!" I replied, squirming in his tight
grip.  I could feel his hard chest against my own, only the thin
fabric of my t-shirt between us.  My hard-on, which had begun to
subside, decided it wanted to make itself known again, and I struggled
away from Alex as I felt myself stiffen.

He eyed me knowingly, only the briefest glance to crotch level giving
him away.  Made a light, playful punch to my stomach.

"Coop, yesterday, fuckin' hell man!  Hot.  As.  Fuck."

I was still battling waves of shame, self-doubt and confusion, but
Alex's blokey talk somehow made things - the things I'd done - seem
normal, natural.  As if we were two guys chatting about banging some
chick we'd picked up, not how I'd reamed the ass of some Asian teenage
boy while Alex pumped spunk across my face.

"Yeah, I guess..."

He gave me a look of exaggerated puzzlement.  "You guess?!  Dude, when
you fucked your load into Cat I almost came twice.  Hips a fuckin'
blur, man!  Super-hot."

I couldn't help it, I grinned.

"Yeah, it did feel pretty awesome."  He grinned back at me, took a
sudden step closer again so we were mere inches apart.  Voice quieter
now, more beguiling.

"And then when you wrapped your lips around my dick, and looked up
into my eyes... fuck, Coop, you're one hot little dude."

Somehow being called "little" didn't seem to chafe when it came from
Alex - quantifiably bigger in just about every way than I was - and I
blushed and looked down at my feet.

"I... enjoyed it too."

"Hell yeah you did!"  He was back to being boisterous, turning as we
began to walk the path again toward the pool house.  "Now let's get
changed and get out there - busy day!"

***

This time there was no pre-change examination at the poolside, no
terse instructions from Simon to strip down to the basics as his cool
eyes raked over me.  Instead Alex grabbed my bag from me, dumped it
under the bench and immediately began rummaging in the lockers for, I
supposed, whatever outfit I was expected to sport today.  While I
waited I kicked off my shoes, pulled my t-shirt over my head and
pushed down my own shorts.

Underneath, I was wearing an old pair of briefs I'd found in the back
of my underwear drawer - by now clingingly tight on me - no designer
waistband but stretched taut over my ass and dick.  The grey fabric
was thin and reasonably full-cut.  I'd found I liked the more hugging,
supportive feel of briefs after the past few years wearing loose,
shapeless boxers.  I also liked how they made me look in the mirror:
emphasising my toned build and visually tightening in my waist,
helping give it the swimmer's "V" shape I had been aiming for.

Alex glanced over, winked.  By now I was pretty used to standing in
front of him almost naked, but I still shifted a little on my feet;
less from discomfort than from so obviously being admired by another
guy.  I purposefully scratched my hip, in the process pushing the
waistband of my briefs a half-inch or so lower.  Alex rolled his eyes
at me; I'd been caught out.

"Show-off... put these on."  He tossed me my costume for the day, but
where I'd been expecting swimming trunks of some sort, here it was
more underwear.  In fact, a jock-strap, but not the institutional
looking ones we'd been expected to wear during highschool football
season.  This had a bright red waistband, about an inch or so wide,
then a bright white, somewhat stretchy pouch and two narrow, white
elastic straps at the back.  I instantly knew that it would leave me
seriously exposed, the thought sending a shiver of self-consciousness
through me.

Still, it wasn't enough pause to stop me from pushing my briefs down,
stepping out of them.  I kicked them up with my foot - tried to,
anyway - but missed the grab; Alex caught them instead, the grey
cotton a tangle in his fist.  As I bent to step in-between the straps
of the jock, I glanced up and saw him push his nose into the front of
my discarded briefs, obviously sniffing deeply.  I froze in surprise,
balanced on one leg with the jock only up to my calves, staring at
him.

Winking again, he dropped my underwear onto my rucksack, shrugged.  I
guessed I wasn't going to get either a smart answer or an explanation,
and thinking back - to when I'd wanted to bury my face into his own
ball-sweat soaked briefs - I supposed I didn't really need one.
Instead I pulled the new jock all the way up, tucking my cock into the
pouch, which stretched pleasantly around it, and arranging the straps
so that they cut across the smooth, soft curves of my ass.

"Fuckin' A, Coop."  Alex obviously approved, checking me out and then
stepping to one side with his arm extended, as if ushering me to the
door.  I moved past him, then let out a sharp yowl as he grabbed one
strap of the jock and let it twang against my butt cheek.

"Asshole!" I shouted at him, playing angry, and he put on an equally
fake contrite expression.

"Sorry dude, too good a target to resist."

***

I'd been used to stepping out to an audience of eyes, but today the
pool was deserted.  I glanced back at Alex for explanation, but he
only tapped his wrist as if to say "give it time".  He headed for the
nearest lounger and I did the same, sat opposite each other where the
pool narrowed to steps.  Lying back, Alex undid the top button of his
cut-offs and settled in, arms crossed above his head; the gape of his
shorts left the root of his cock just visible, I saw, before sitting
down myself.

At first I stretched my legs out, crossed them at the ankles, sitting
almost demurely with my arms around my stomach.  Then again, I
reasoned, I'm here to show off - that's the job, after all - and so I
shifted my arms to my side, exposing my smooth, gently ripped stomach.
 Uncrossing my legs, I left one outstretched and pulled the other up,
the sole of my foot flat against the lounger.  I couldn't see, but I
knew it would pull my bulge up, perhaps even flash a little of the
soft skin between my balls and my hole, depending on where someone was
standing.

I was beginning to think of myself as a sexual being, rather than just
a collection of body parts that occasionally needed to jerk off.  Not
only in terms of my own sexual exploration - though I'd certainly done
enough of that around this pool over the past week - but in how
someone might look at me.  I'd spent so long admiring other guys'
physiques and pushing myself to get fit, that I'd forgotten to
actually step back and wonder whether other people might be doing the
same about me.  Simon certainly seemed to approve, and Alex had made
it pretty clear that he liked the way I looked; hell, even Cat had
been more than attentive when we kissed the previous day.

My thoughts were interrupted by noise from the house, the whoosh as
the broad glass door was pushed open.  Young guys in waiter uniforms -
white shirts, black ties, long black aprons tied around the waist -
spread out around the poolside, some taking up station behind the wet
bar while others positioned themselves with trays of food.  They were
followed by a more casual group, laughing and talking among
themselves, perhaps eight or ten guys most of whom looked like they
could've come out of a Simon photocopier.

I started, glanced over nervously at Alex.  He hadn't shifted a
muscle, still lying back with his eyes shut and a half-smile on his
face.  I could see his broad chest rise and fall with each breath, a
few pinpricks of sweat visible from the hot sun.  The men - I now saw
Simon was indeed among them - moved between the food, the bar and the
various chairs on offer, generally avoiding even glancing at where I
was lying.

I could overhear some of the conversations going on closest to me, and
they all sounded pretty dull.  I'd never bothered asking what Simon
did for a living - just guessed it paid well considering where he
lived and how he entertained himself - and even with eavesdropping I
wasn't picking up on much.  It was obviously more interesting than me,
though.

As I frowned, my head tilted slightly to the side as I attempted to
pick out at least one word in twenty that I might understand, a voice
to my side surprised me.

"Hot day, isn't it."

He was early thirties, perhaps; slim, short dark hair, wire frame
glasses and a dark blue shirt.  Smiling self-consciously over a straw
in a tall glass that looked more ice than anything else.  I didn't
know quite what to say.

"Air conditioning in there," he nodded at the house.  "You never
remember quite how hot it is outside.  Always a surprise."  His eyes,
until now fixed on my own, flicked briefly down to my chest.  I
shifted slightly, suddenly feeling very under-dressed.  In the process
my hips tilted, swivelling just a little toward him; my leg tipped,
and I realised it was almost as though I was opening my crotch to him.
 I mentally crossed my fingers that he'd keep his eyes higher than my
nipples.

"So..."  He was struggling, and I realised I'd have to say something
soon or appear rude, and assuming this was a guest of Simon's then
that was probably a bad idea.

"Very hot" I mumbled, before finding my voice.  "I mean, yes, you're
right, it's a hot day."  He nodded at me, looking as if I'd said
something deeply meaningful and insightful, then sipped from his drink
awkwardly.

"Sorry, did you want a drink?" he suddenly asked, perhaps just
noticing that he was the only one holding something.  I wasn't
entirely sure whether I was allowed to drink or not - I mean, I wasn't
here for pleasure, this was a job (though I didn't know if this new
guy understood that) - and even if I was then it would have to be
something soft since I was underage.  I decided it was easier just to
say no, shaking my head.

"Ah..."  He seemed stumped again; maybe I should've said yes, just to
put him at his ease.  Would that have been the more polite thing to
do?  "I guess Simon's boys are always on duty, hey?"

I frowned a little, and his smile quickly faded.  I guess I was one of
"Simon's boys", though I'd not really thought of it that way (or
perhaps just not thought of it coming out of someone else's mouth).
Looking back, Alex had said that the point of my being there was to
decorate the pool, make it look well-used; I hadn't made much of it at
the time, but now - knowing Simon was gay, knowing the exact nature of
the "decoration" he wanted - things were clicking into place.

"Something like that."  I smiled at him, and he looked relieved.  His
eyes darted down my chest again, just a flick as if nervous about
being caught.  I'd been wary at first, but something about his almost
coy attitude left me feeling surprisingly open; powerful, almost.  He
was looking at my body, he wanted to look at it more, but he wasn't
sure how I'd react.

I reached up, careful to make it look natural and unintentional,
gently half-scratched, half-rubbed at my nipple.  He snuck a quick
look again, then back to my face.  My other hand - the arm partially
trapped under me as I lay half-rolled toward him on the lounger -
grazed against my stomach, running the thumb across the soft, downy
skin there.  It was an empowering, almost addictive feeling: I was an
18 year old kid, and he could've been some high-level manager of who
knows what company, and I was calling the shots just because he wanted
to check out my six pack but was afraid to.

I felt my crooked-leg lolling a little more, opening up my crotch to
his view, almost daring him to look down.  I'd seen enough of the
jockstrap to know it would frame my groin well, the bulge of my
constrained cock and balls filling it up and causing the whole pouch
to jut out considerably.  A bead or two of sweat was forming on my
pecs, glistening in the early afternoon sun which caught the edge of
his glass and twinkled, momentarily dazzling each time.

"You're..." he started, gulped, looked down at his feet and then back up
at me, allowing his eyes to quickly graze across the top two-thirds of
my body as they met my own again.  "You're a very handsome young man."

My head was beginning to swim, not from the heat or even from his
attention, just from the feelings of power flooding my brain.  I let
myself roll backward, flat again on the lounger, lifted one hand above
my head and rested my crown on the palm.  I knew the sparse patch of
hair in my armpit would be damp with sweat, and I wondered if he could
smell me, feel the heat radiating off my young body.  The other hand -
the arm freed now - moved down to gently cup my balls, squeezing and
kneading them slowly.  The motion pulled his attention down, like I'd
known it probably would, and then he was staring - watching as I
pulled the stretchy material tight across my plumping cock, outlining
it with the white elastane - and I could have pulled tongues, crossed
my eyes or bitten off my own nose for all the chance of getting his
concentration back on my face.

Instead, I spread my legs a little more, moved my foot from the
lounger to the tiles underneath.  Tentatively he perched on the edge
where my foot had been, still transfixed on where my hand churned my
balls.  I wondered if he could see the join where the elastic straps
met the narrow base of the pouch, whether he could quite see skin
behind it.  I felt my hips began to lift a little, tilting my pelvis
up so as to increase that possibility.

He obviously took it as an invitation; I guess, if I'd been thinking
clearly, I could've seen that coming.  Instead, the first I knew was
his hand on my bulge, palm flat against the curved heft of my nuts,
his cool fingers - damp with perspiration from the glass - tracing the
hot furrows where my legs joined my groin.  I gasped, cock instantly
racing to hardness, as his deft fingers squeezed my shaft, fingertips
digging slightly under the elastic edges of the pouch and stroking the
moist, sensitive skin there.

"God you're hot" he muttered, almost to himself, as if I wasn't
supposed to hear him - or that he'd forgotten that, beyond a cock and
a set of balls, I even existed.  My shaft flexed painfully in the
confines of the jock.  I could've pushed him away, closed my legs,
even sat up from my casual sprawl and pulled myself away from him, but
I didn't.  The thought didn't even enter my head.  I was fixated on
his hand and his expression, one of lustful wonder.

"Ha!  I see you've found a live one!"  The new voice was loud, and
noticeably drunker, and we both turned to see another of Simon's
guests standing over us.  My quiet friend whipped his hand away as if
my balls had turned poker-hot.  This new man was as expansive as the
other was reserved, draining his glass and looking round pointedly for
a waiter; one hurried over, another young guy perhaps my own age.  He
was very pointedly not looking down at where I lay, instead focusing
on holding out his tray and the drinks he had shuttled from the bar to
the various men who had spread out around the pool.  I looked him up
and down: very slim body, as far as I could see past the
figure-skating apron and close-fitting white shirt, and dark, longish
hair, almost emo in cut as his fringe draped down over one eye.  He
flicked his head nervously a couple of times, shifted the tray to
counter the drunk man's less than agile hand movements.

"Don't stop on my account" the new guy continued, waving his drink in
our general direction.  "We all know what they're here for, these..."
He didn't finish - his drink was obviously more interesting, and he
was already close to halfway through the fresh glass - but I could
guess what he was thinking.  Teenage guy, decent body, dressed in next
to nothing: had to be easy.  And then again, I couldn't entirely argue
with him, since I'd been halfway through having my cock felt-up when
he'd burst upon us.

As if to make his point, he reached down and pinched my nipple -
grabbing the semi-firm nub between his thick fingers and twisting it
hard.  I yelped, half-leapt from the chair, and he laughed at me.  The
original guy - who I was beginning to reassess as a whole lot better
news than this new, boorish one - looked down at his feet, as if
ashamed to be any part of this new scene.

"What the fuck...?!" I shouted, pulling my chest from his grasp, and
rubbing where it stung.  He frowned at me, loosely waved a finger.

"Now now, kid, watch yourself...  Don't make me give you a spanking."
He laughed uproariously at his own joke, seemingly oblivious to the
fact that he was doing so on his own.  I felt myself flushing beetroot
red.  All the shame I'd been feeling over what I'd been doing these
past few days, all the uncertainty over whether it was really "me"
wanting to kiss boys, touch boys... fuck boys, it all came flooding
back.

"You don't touch me" I told him, angry at him, and at myself, and at
this whole bizarre situation that found me near-naked in a stranger's
house and with strangers' hands on me.

He looked at me, half-smirking and half with pity and disgust.  "Oh
no?"  He snorted, rolled his eyes.  "Do you just get fucked, is that
it?  No kissing, no messing around.  Just some one-track rent boy with
more muscle than brain."

I could feel myself starting to tear up, despite the hot coal of anger
forming in my chest.  I wanted to protest, but all the arguments
sounded hollow even to me.  Just how convincing could I be, some kid
in a jockstrap?

He was about to reach out and touch my chest again, and I was about to
leap to my feet and make a run for the pool house, when we heard the
thump and the squeal.  Heads all over jerked around to look at the
main building, mine included.  Normally the smooth expanses of glass
were half-obscured by the bright reflections of the water and sky, the
interior only a vague mirage behind the shimmer.  Now, though, all
eyes were on Cat's lithe form, splayed against the window.  His lean
body was pressed up to the full-length pane, head turned 90-degrees
with his cheek near-flattened on the glass, one arm pinioned just
above his unruly hair.  Shirtless, he was almost naked in fact - only
another micro-bikini swimsuit offering scant coverage across his
middle.  The taut yellow and green fabric still managed to look vivid
despite the tinted glass.

"This is more like it" the drunk guy roared happily, seemingly
forgetting me and taking a few absent-minded paces toward the house.
I could see a hand wrapped around Cat's raised wrist, but not who it
belonged to.  The expression on his face was animal - it reminded me
of the aggressive lust I'd seen while pumping away at his ass the day
before - though I could see a little fear there, or something similar.
 A trapped expression, perhaps; fitting, considering he did indeed
look trapped against the window.

You couldn't say he was entirely unhappy about the situation, though.
As his groin humped against the glass, the rigid length of his boner
was obscenely obvious, the stretchy fabric shifting over its girth.  I
realised my own prick had leapt back to full hardness at the sight of
him, after it had wilted during the argument just a few moments ago.
Now it strained against the pouch of my jock, pulling the ass straps
tight against my cheeks.

Alex's voice surprised me from just over my shoulder, quiet as he
eased himself between me and the backrest of the lounger.  "That boy
sure does love it rough" he whispered to me, his thick legs spreading
each side of my ass.  "He's going to get fucked - again - up against
that glass.  They're going to tug down his suit, pull apart those
tight little cheeks of his, and someone with a big, wide dick is going
to force it into his slick little hole."

Somehow, even after all I'd done - all I'd done with him, with Cat,
all I'd seen to now, and imagined and wished for - his dirty talk
still got to me, made me light-headed.  I'd lived so long in a world
locked up in my own brain, hardly daring to have a thought out of
place.  Spent eighteen years telling myself I was putting off sex, or
emotions, or a close attachment - with a girl, or a boy, or anybody -
because one day the time would be perfect for it.  And in half a week,
Alex had shown me that I wasn't saving myself for the right time, I
was just wasting myself.

His voice had a direct line to my libido, but his hands were creeping
across my stomach, thumbing the ridges of muscle there.  As I watched
Cat's skin flatten against the window pane, saw fingers tug at his
Speedo, Alex's own fingers slipped down my abdomen, twining carefully
in my sparse pubes as they poked visible over the bright red waistband
of the jock.  Then Cat's dick sprang free - an accident, perhaps,
given his captor was seemingly only concerned with getting access to
his ass - the swollen glans swiping arcs of precum over the glass as
he bucked and twisted.  Alex's fingers dug under my balls, traced
languid circles around my hole, as we watched Cat's leg lift - a hand
in the pit of his knee, squeezing the firm flesh of his thigh - baring
him, ready to get screwed

Alex pulled my own leg up, across his own, spreading my cheeks a
little more and allowing his fingers greater access.  I shivered at
his touch, leant back - his hot torso against me - as the tip of his
finger ground its way into me as it had a few days before.  The sweat
had worked itself into the crack of my ass, helping lube his entry.
Even so, my ring clamped down on him, desperate to tug his digit
further into me.  At the window, Cat's jaw dropped, his head rocked
back; his movements against the glass became rhythmic shudders, and I
knew some unknown man was fucking him, pounding their cock into his
clinging hole as I'd done just the day before.

I found myself rocking on Alex's finger in time with Cat's hips,
driving it deeper.  Alex's other hand took hold of my cock - still
achingly hard - through my jock, tracing its vein-swollen ridges with
his fingertips.  Carefully he eased the fabric over me, baring my dick
as the pouch pulled to one side and my balls fell free.  A few of
Simon's guests were glancing across now, their attention split between
Cat's well-used body and my own exposure.

"Put your other leg over mine" Alex told me, lips close to my ear, and
I lifted it to straddle his thighs completely.  It left me even more
spread, on show; I had to reach back and hook one arm around Alex's
neck to maintain my balance, the other hand resting on my chest so as
to keep out of the way of his devious fingers.  The same hot, full
feeling radiating out of my ass that had pushed me over the edge a few
days back was causing me to hum with excitement, while his gentle
downward tugging on my balls left my cock twitching.

Alex whistled quietly; "another hot show, Coop" he whispered, lips
brushing my ear.  I wished there was a mirror in front of me, a
full-length mirror like my mom had in her room.  I wanted to be able
to watch, to see the hot show this teenage boy was putting on for a
garden's worth of strangers; see Alex's hand on my dick, stretching
open my tight ass.  I began to let out little grunts of pleasure,
generally when his fingers reached a deep spot inside of me, tips
nudging the swollen bump of my prostate.  Meanwhile, Alex's own
hardness pushed bluntly behind me, sometimes at the small of my back,
sometimes against the soft flesh of my butt.  Last I'd seen, his
cut-offs were half unbuttoned; had his cock snaked free by now, was
its spongy, throat-filling head nudging against my bare flesh?  Was he
leaving trails of precum over me?

The thought of it made my head reel; I pushed myself down on his hand,
humping against the thickness of his fingers.  "How many?" I muttered,
my voice breathy.  He chuckled.

"That made three" and instinctively my ass clamped down, feeling
blissfully full and at the same time incredibly foreign.  All the time
I was pushing myself physically, my brain was playing catch-up as
well; I knew tomorrow, when it came, there would be new questions
about my identity, my sexuality - why, when I let my inhibitions drop,
I seemed to always end up with men finger-fucking me or with cum
across my face.

And yet today, right now, all I could really think about was the heat
radiating from my butt, the physical shuddering as Alex squeezed the
head of my cock, milking out gobs of glistening precum which he used
to further slick his fingers and widen my hole, and I knew - as deeply
as his probing digits - that I wanted him to fuck me.

I guess it didn't need to be said, not out loud; my body was telling
everybody around us that I was losing the last of my reservations.
Against the window, a black hand was clamped across Cat's mouth and
half-covering his nose.  The look of utterly aroused panic in his eyes
had evolved into an almost bestial glaze, body contorted as his
partner pounded him hard.  Both of us had been worn down to the very
core of our sexuality, nothing left but some odd mixture of pleasure
and approval seeking.

My ass shifted, careful not to lose Alex's fingers from inside of me
but nudging back now, grinding at the hardness where I knew his dick
was, trying to wordlessly hint that I was ready for the next stage.
He chuckled again, wrapped his big hand around the base of my cock,
palm enclosing my tightened balls, and lifted me to him a little,
pressing my back against his chest again.

"Gonna get fucked, straight boy" he teased, using the arm circling me
to squeeze me tightly.  "Got you all stretched out and ready for my
cock, can't wait to see your face when I take your cherry."

For a moment he lifted us both, hand slipping from my ass as he tugged
his cut-offs lower, and then I felt the hot length of him resting
against me.  My mind flicked back, trying to picture him up-close as
he fed his inches into my mouth while I pumped my hips against Cat's
butt the previous day.  I knew he was big - bigger than me, certainly
- and wide, too, with a blunt, broadly flared head and a meaty shaft
that swelled partway down.  The difference between that an a finger or
two, even three fingers, seemed huge, and yet I knew I wouldn't be
satisfied until it was buried inside me.

"This would be easier with you on all-fours, Coop, breeding you like a
dog... but we need to give these nice gentlemen a great show, don't we."
 His voice was silky, at odds with my own ragged breathing.  "So I'm
gonna lift you up, dude, and then I'm going to drop you back down on
my cock, and it's gonna split you open."  Part of me knew Alex would
never hurt me, never let me come to harm, and yet I also knew he
wouldn't hold back, not now, not when my virginity was at stake.

I felt him lift one of my legs, and then the rub as his prick shifted
underneath me and then up, nestling in the crook between my thigh and
my groin.  Glancing down, I could see it throbbing; it looked bigger
than yesterday, harder and somehow angrier in colour.  Around us there
was more attention, our performance drawing eyes away from Cat's
near-rape inside.  I could hear whispering and mutters from the crowd:
"christ, look at that thing"; "that's gonna tear him a new asshole."
I should've been scared - should probably have run a mile - but
instead I turned my head, pushed my lips against the side of Alex's
face until he too turned and kissed me.

As our tongues fought hungrily, he pulled me up by my thighs.  "You
need" he told me, between kisses, "to hold my prick up", and I reached
down into the gap between our bodies to grip his hardness and keep it
upright, aimed at my ass.  With only the feel of it - my eyes locked
on his - it felt unbelievably, unnaturally large; already the slick
head was nudging my pucker, my own weight pushing me against it.

"I'm gonna put you down" Alex warned me, and I knew this was it - the
moment for leaping up, locking my legs crossed and screaming "no, no,
never!" was fast expiring.  Instead, though, I used one hand to pull
his head in for a closer, deeper kiss, the other still guiding his
cock as he slowly, gently let gravity take me.

It was... amazing.  And painful, and so strange I couldn't believe there
was any connection between Alex's fingers and what I was now
encountering.  At first as though I was trying to balance on a
baseball bat, only gradually the bat was spreading me wider and wider.
 It hurt, of course it hurt, but it was addictive too: like picking at
a scab or scratching an insect bite.  I humped my butt down,
frustrated by Alex's cautious pace, and gasped as the fullness of his
head broached me completely and what must have been an inch or so of
the plump shaft jerked its way inside.  Alex groaned into our kiss,
his hips twitching at the sensation and driving in more of his cock.

I didn't know how much was in me and how much was left; the stretched,
burning sensation of my ring was being overwhelmed by the alien
feeling as his precum-slick cock bruised its way into my hole.  I knew
Alex must want to fuck his whole length into me, must be holding back:
I remembered my own unstoppable urges the previous day, unable to
delay my angry, aggressive pounding of Cat's tight, pliable ass.  My
fingers - no longer needed to hold Alex's shaft upright - played
around the tautness of my skin where we joined, as my head marvelled
at how something so broad could squeeze inside of me.

I gripped at my tightened balls, ran my sweaty palm up the length of
my erection and felt trickles of juice coating the head and dripping
down.  On a high, I smeared my fingertips in the stickiness and then
moved them to my lips; Alex turned his head slightly, and together we
licked and sucked the glistening sap from them, tongues sliding and
the musky, tangy scent strong in our nostrils.  He gave another lurch
and a new wave of part-pain, part-pleasure radiated out from my butt
as he continued his assault.  I wondered how many encounters it would
take before my sensitive ass would be able to accommodate the sort of
rough, unsparing fuck Cat was taking right now.

"Can't hold it, little man" Alex grunted at me, frowning as I scooped
more precum off my dick and greased it across our lips, only to lick
it off a few seconds later.  "Need to be all in you."  I was
frightened, but at the same time there was nothing I would - perhaps
nothing I could - do to change it, change the intimacy I was feeling
with him right now.  Yes, we were surrounded by strange men, watching
me take my first cock and knowing from my bobbing hardness that I was
enjoying every inch of it, but at the same time this was the closest I
had ever felt to Alex, maybe to any other person.  From those first
coy glances at the gym, to his fingers and the shower and his spunk
across my hungry face, this was the culmination of a bizarre,
brotherly seduction that had changed me forever.

Suddenly, I felt Alex's arms relax - for a moment it was like I was
floating, and then my butt crammed down around him and his full length
drove into me.  My head shot back, breaking our kiss, as my back
arched at the shock of it.  I felt so incredibly full, my hole
distorted like never before.  The faint bristle of his short pubes
scratched against my cheeks as my own dick lurched and bounced.  I
reached back, both arms around his neck as he wrapped my chest and
pulled me down, grinding the last of his prick into the hot confines
of my ass.

"Oh fuck, dude, you're so tight" he groaned, and I felt it - a
gripping sleeve around his rigid length.  I wanted to reach down, feel
our merging for myself, but I couldn't unlace my hands from behind his
head.  In front of us I saw men watching intently, gazes fixed at
where Alex and I were joined, and not for the first time I wished I
could see through their eyes.

A coarse voice called out "bet that's your biggest yet?" and there
were chuckles; I blinked, clung tightly to Alex's broad shoulders as
his tool throbbed inside me.

"He's my first" I told them, voice husky, and heard a few impressed
whistles that flushed me with pride.

"Then you better fuck the virgin all out of him" someone ordered Alex,
and now the chuckles were dirty, lecherous, and I knew there was
nothing these men wanted to see more than my teenage body well used.

Obviously the command had made it through to Alex, though, as his hips
began to jerk, nudging his cock a bare inch or so each time and
sending glorious vibrations through my taut hole.  "Do it" I hissed
through clenched teeth, and he obeyed me; used his bear hug around my
chest to lift me in his lap and then pull me back down.  Gently at
first, patiently, as my ass got used to the blunt invader fucking it
open, but then harder and longer, lengthening the strokes until I was
flexing my splayed thighs to help lift me, feeling the tug as the
crown of his dick dragged at my insides.

The increasing pace spurred on our audience, and they began to call
out encouragement - harsh and brutal - describing what Alex should do
to me and my inexperienced flesh.  "Punch-fuck that little bitch" I
heard, "screw the twink's guts out."  It should've left me mortified,
but instead it was like a hot fist of pure sex was tightening in my
stomach, leaving me heady and breathless.  "Breed that dirty little
slut" someone hissed, and there were jeers of encouragement.  Perhaps
Alex heard it and was similarly turned on, or maybe it was just the
naive cling of my hole but his pace increased, thighs slapping against
my cheeks.  I reached down and felt his churning balls, drawn close to
his body and yet still full in my hand; my own dick left chords of
precum across my forearm as it whipped and bounced between my
well-spread legs.

Then I felt him pushing me forward, his hands gripping my sides
tightly just underneath my armpits, leaning me over and toward the
slats of the lounger.  As I moved, Alex shifted behind me, never
stopping the pounding strokes against my butt.  Finally I was leaning
on my arms, bent at the elbows, back arched cat-like - somehow this
let him deeper into me, and I felt the head of his cock nudging
further inside my by-now slick, greasy tunnel.

"Yeah, that's it, ream that cunt out!"  The crowd shuffled closer,
casting long shadows across my face.  I looked up, Alex's hands
roaming across my lower back and down to stroke the downy fur on my
thighs.  There were several bulging crotches at eye-level, pawing
fingers stroking obvious erections as they watched my innocence - what
was left of it after this week of firsts, anyway - taken.  Part of me,
the same part that had thrilled to Alex's dangerous touch as he
frigged my hole in the gym showers, wanted to take things to their
next, promiscuous conclusion, but I couldn't bring myself to initiate,
to take that step.

Alex, it seemed had no such compunction - either that, or he read my
mind.  Twisting his cock in me, stretching my ass in a new direction
and making me gasp with the thrill of it, he addressed the oversexed
crowd.

"Who wants his mouth?"

Again there were catcalls, whistles - guys nudging each other to take
the first step.  I bowed my head, blushing hotly, ashamed at being
offered so bluntly and - more than that - at being so desperate for
someone to use me, so thankful that the choice was no longer mine.
Alex owned my hole and now he was whoring out my mouth, too.

Fingers under my chin, tugging my face up.  I peered up, eyes
narrowing against the shafts of sunlight that lapped across me.  He
was young, though older than Alex; perhaps Simon's age.  Slim, with
stern, angular features.  His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his
elbows, exposing narrow, well-veined forearms.  As his other hand
fumbled with his fly, he winked at me, flashed half a smile that made
me blush again.  I glanced down, to watch him unbutton and unzip, tug
his shirt out of the way and expose a pair of sleek white boxer-briefs
heavily tented with his arching prick.

I admit it, my mouth started watering.  Alex had called me a good
cocksucker, and whether or not that were true - beginners luck if it
were so - I definitely wanted another opportunity to prove my
abilities.  The unnamed guy stepped forward, groin  bare inches from
my face.  Still balancing my torso on one arm, my body jerking forward
with each of Alex's long, tingling strokes into my ass, I reached out
and pulled down the soft, stretchy material to let his erection free.

It burst out, reasonably long and with a pronounced upward curve.  I
hooked the waistband of his briefs under his loose balls and wrapped
my slender fingers around the heft of his shaft.  As I gently tugged
back, I realised he was uncut - he still had foreskin, something I'd
never seen before.  The sheath of pink flesh drew away from the slick,
sticky head of his dick, the scent of him sharp and acrid.  I gave a
tentative stroke, then another, marvelling at the way the
close-fitting hood puckered and slid across him.

The press of his hand on the back of my head, fingers twining in my
hair, brought me back into the moment.  He shuffled forward again, and
I half-opened my lips as the gooey tip of his cock pressed against
them.  My tongue lapped out and ran around the crown, and I groaned at
the addictive taste of his juice.  Then he was pushing again, harder
this time, and his glans broke into my mouth and he fed me the first
few inches, maybe half of him filling my face as my puffy lips played
around the silky skin.

"Good boy" he murmured, and I wanted so desperately to please him, to
be that good boy he was looking for.  Gradually at first, then bolder,
I suctioned in my cheeks, rolled the gobful of drool around his gently
thrusting dick.  My fingers formed a loose ring around the chunky base
of it, tugging on it softly.  Sometimes, when Alex reamed me
particularly deeply, I felt the head of his cock nudging at my throat
as my whole body was pushed into his crotch.

"Down his throat...?"  The guy was asking Alex, not me - I guess I was
just a hole for him, albeit a wet, hungry, eager hole - and I knew a
half-second before he answered what he would say.

"Nah, he likes it on his face."

I grunted, mouth full of dick and overwhelmed by the sleaziness of it,
of what I had become.  My unnamed partner was fucking his cock into me
now, using my mouth roughly, and I could only lash my tongue around
the marble-hard flesh at random as his hips flailed against me.

And then he pulled out, hurriedly wrapping his fist around his shaft
and pumping - once, twice, gaping piss-slit at the level of my eyes -
and a rope of cum spurt out and across me, then another and another,
braiding me from forehead to chin with his strong-smelling juice.
Breaths shuddered in my chest, as he rubbed his cock-head across my
nose and my lips, easing out the last few pearls of slime.  My tongue
whisped out - I had to do it, it was instinctive - and tasted his
spunk as it slowly ran across my lips.

That broke the moment, ended their hesitance at least, and when I
opened my eyes there was another cock in front of me.  I didn't even
look up, didn't check to see who it belonged to; all my brain was
telling me was "do it, do it!" and, as Alex's hand left a ringing slap
across my butt cheek, I opened up and let the new guy feed himself
into me.  Immediately he pushed it in deep, and I gagged as the narrow
head spiked into my gullet, eyes watering as he jerked it between my
lips.  Underneath me my dick felt as hard as I could remember it ever
being; the glans nestled wetly into my palm as I rubbed it into my
hand, before pushing my fingers back to tug roughly at Alex's
straining balls.

He was panting, and I could feel his fingertips pressing into the
small of my back.  I'd been trying to squeeze down on him with the
aching, stretched muscles in my ass, clamping hard with each stroke he
made.  There was no holding him back now; Alex was throwing his hips
forward, slamming his cock up into my hole, grinding it at an angle to
burn against the edge of my ring, digging it up to rasp against my
prostate.

As well as the dick in my mouth there was another jerking off at my
cheek, fist flailing until he striped thick cords of spunk over my
flushed face.  The guy I was sucking - by now my tired mouth simply
gulping at his hardness - grunted, took a fistful of my sweaty hair
and yanked my head back, releasing his first blast of cream against
the back of my throat before pulling out and hosing the rest of his
load across my lips.  My face felt heavy with their mingling juices,
my taste buds overwhelmed with the bleachy tang of what I'd managed to
choke down.

Alex's jabs were harder, punctuated as he thrust his final strokes.
"Gonna breed you, Coop" he hissed, "gonna fuck my cum up your ass."  I
was muttering, high off spunk and the acid jolts radiating out from my
prostate, begging him to finish what he'd started.  His fingers cupped
my hips and pulled me against him roughly; I palmed my cock to match,
arched my back some more.

It came from the depths of his throat, the growl - a guttural and
furious noise as he held himself deep inside me.  I could feel his
erection jolting in my ass, imagine the gobs of juice coating my
well-battered inner walls.  It was more the thought than the feeling
that tipped me over the edge, my aching dick spurting its own sticky
sap across my tweaking fingers and the lounger I was splayed on while
my ring clamped rhythmically around his shaft.  Alex's fingers were
stroking gently down the small of my back, tips lightly brushing my
goose-pimpling skin as he recovered from his own high.

The strength ebbed from my shoulders; I rested my cum-dripping face on
the chair, sucking in deep breaths.  The juice was cooling now, a
strange sensation.  Alex started to chuckle, and after a moment I had
to join in - I didn't quite know what I was laughing at, what the joke
might be, but it was the most honest physical reaction I could have at
that moment.  He twisted his hips a little, cock still heavy in my
ass, then gently backed off; it was cold and strange, an empty
feeling.  I wondered what I looked like, some teenage boy with his ass
high in the air, face glistening and hole gaping.

"Looking good from back here, dude" Alex laughed, and I craned my head
over my shoulder to see him nodding at my butt.  Guess I really was a
sight.

"They should make the little Asian bitch lick it all out" I heard
someone suggest, and I glanced over to the window where Cat had been
pressed.  Now he was on the floor, sat with his legs outstretched.
The black hand I'd last seen clamped across his mouth seemingly
belonged to Brad - no great surprise there, perhaps - who was now
holding Cat around the neck with his arm, mouth close to the boy's
ear.  I don't know what he was saying, but Cat's hand was flailing
wildly on his cock, much to the amusement of the guys standing around
the mismatched pair.

"Cat," Alex called out, "dinnertime!"  Both he and Brad looked up,
then the black youth took a grip of Cat's unruly hair and half-led,
half-dragged him over to us.  Up close I could see the red marks and
scratches across his smooth skin; his eyes were red-rimmed, and I
wondered if he'd been crying and - if so - just how much rough
treatment he would not only take but enjoy.

"You heard him, slut."  Brad's voice was mocking; he either got off on
dominating the Asian teen as much as Cat enjoyed submitting, or he
played the part damn well.  "Go to work."  He pushed him toward us,
Cat crawling across Alex's legs - I heard another ringing slap, as he
smacked his ass cheek hard - to move behind me.

Fingers, first, and then the most incredible, soft, wet stroking
against my skin.  Cat ran his tongue gently from my still-tight balls
and up, across my hole and to the tip of my crack, then moved down
again and repeated it.  I squirmed, partly wanting to pull away from
the lightly tickling sensation, and partly wanting to grind my butt
back into his face and make sure he never, ever stopped.  Then he was
concentrating on my gooey ass, circling licks first before orbiting in
and forcing his tongue inside.

"Dirty little cum-whore" someone sneered, and I imagined Cat's face
smeared with Alex's spunk and my sweat as he dug his mouth against me.
 He was making tiny grunting sounds now, sucking on my ass and pulling
my cheeks apart with his hands.

"Jeez Brad, you worked him over good!"  Alex was laughing, and I heard
Cat yelp in-between his snuffling; he never stopped tonguing me,
though.  "I can get three fingers in here no problem, it's messy as
fuck."  I thought of Cat squeezed in-between Alex and I, the older
youth with half a hand in the Asian lad's ass; I had to see it.

My arms shifted weakly underneath me, as I began to twist on the
lounger and turn myself.  Cat pulled his face away as he realised what
I was doing, and I flipped over - back landing in a pool of cold spunk
in the process - before tucking my legs over his shoulders and using
my calves to pull his head back down.  He winked at me and then got
back to work on my hole; over his shoulder I could see Alex wearing a
broad, lazy grin, as his fingers dug away into Cat's ass.

***

He'd eaten me out for maybe five, ten minutes in the end, eventually
graduating from just his mouth to playing his delicate hands across my
midsection.  I'd alternated sitting up on my elbows and lying flat on
my back, fist between my teeth as the waves of tickling pleasure
radiated through me.  My dick had got hard again - of course - but Cat
ignored it for all but the most careless of brushes; he was obviously
too busy digging the last remnants of Alex's load out of my well-used
hole, and it was left wagging in the air.

Gradually the crowd around us had thinned - I heard someone mention
food, so perhaps our show was less interesting in the end than the
promise of a buffet - and even Alex stood up from behind Cat's
crouching form, strolled over to the bar for a bottle of water, cock
lolling shamelessly from his part-buttoned cut-offs.  Brad was lying,
uninterested, on a lounger across the patio - sunglasses on but
nothing else - his thick, flaccid length dipping heavily between his
slightly-spread thighs.

Tony and Simon were both MIA, entertaining I guessed, and I wondered
how much of my activities either had actually seen.  They were
careless, only partially complete thoughts however; I'd doubted I'd
ever cum again, after the strength of my orgasm when Alex reamed me,
but Cat's persistent attentions to my hole were making me reconsider.
Despite the public nature of our play, somehow it felt intimate and -
not private, of course not private - but more personal than anything
I'd done so far.

Cat looked up at me, head framed by my thighs, and smiled.  My
erection waved in front of his face, and he stuck out his tongue and
jabbed at it.  It was a half-hearted effort, and we both giggled.

"You okay?" I asked him quietly, not wanting to break the moment.  He
rolled his eyes, flashed me a toothy grin.

"Sure."

I frowned, Alex's comment that Brad had "worked him over good" and the
image of his slender body pinned tightly against the window at the
front of my mind.

"Cooper, you worry too much."  He lapped wetly at my balls, and I
reached down to swat flippantly at his tangled hair.

"Doesn't it, you know... hurt?"

"What, when you smack me on the head?"  He pouted playfully, knowing
exactly what I was really asking.  "Yeah, it does, but I kinda like
it."  I nodded, though I still couldn't quite get my head around it.
"And you didn't hold back much yesterday, did you!"

Any other time I'd probably have blushed, but - legs spread, hole
oozing spunk and my face and torso still coated with a light sheen of
other mens' juice - it didn't really seem necessary.  Instead I
grinned, squeezed my thighs shut, gripping his head as he grimaced a
little.

"Get back to work, slut."

===

Well, that's part three done.  For once Cooper didn't end up riddled
with self-doubt, which makes a nice change!  Did you like it?  Hate
it?  Want some more?  Let me know at alexp336@gmail.com - it's always
amazing to hear from people.

Oh, and since a couple of people asked, I set up a twitter account.
Will try to use it to give updates about how chapters are progressing.
 http://twitter.com/alexp336