Date: Tue, 07 Mar 2017 22:13:21 +0000
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: A Sordid Tale

Authors note

Unusually for me, I was inspired to actually write this as one-off short
story.

Naturally all the usual disclaimers apply, if you don't like it don't read
it and if you do like it, well it would be nice to hear that my effort has
not been in vain.

Enjoy.

Tom
amais09@fastmail.fm


A sordid little tale...


England was a very different place back then, quite different. Home
computers didn't exist, homosexual acts were illegal under the age
twenty-one and for the underwear fetishist just about every male wore
boring white Y-fronts. Fear of arrest, a paucity of printed material and
for the younger element the stigma of being labelled "queer" by their peers
was more than sufficient to make sex very secretive. Even some of the more
latently sexual, adventuristic youth were reduced to reading the dictionary
hoping to glean the secret of self-abuse, there really was no available
information. It was inevitable that for those brave enough to ask their
best friend for help it could be a truly embarrassing ordeal as few would
freely admit to such an embarrassing act. Invariably for the well brought
up teenager, sexual gratification only came in one flavour, a combination
of total ignorance combined with bedtime fumbling!

That said, since the testosterone charged eighteen year old Terry knew
little else, he was more or less content with his lot even if it had taken
a long time and a very sore cock to discover the secret for himself.
Content that was, except that for matters of the flesh when he was
constrained by what his inventive right hand could achieve. Although
achieve it did, usually by way of a very secretive if messy episode some
five or six times a day.

The fact was that Terry's interest in sex had been stirred, not to say
shaken, some ten years earlier when he had stayed with his Uncle Jack for a
weekend, something which he would then always be looking forward to. A
bachelor, Uncle Jack certainly had some strange, yet stimulating ideas when
it came to parenting and he might be said to have been very "hands on" or
even combined with "fingers up" in his approach to the young Terry!
Whatever, there was no doubt Terry was an avid, even extrovert pupil when
it came to the mysterious art of masturbation, be it for his own pleasure
or Uncle Jack's. Once the subject was mastered and endlessly practised
several times a day he just couldn't wait to pass those very same skills
onto his classmates at junior school. And, thanks to Uncle Jack's
derogatory views on the female sex and an inexhaustible supply of decidedly
lewd boy orientated stories, Terry's interests would only ever extend to
other boys.

However, to use an old expression, there was a fly in the ointment. More
aptly quite a small one which manifested itself when Terry was about to get
down to give some practical instruction for to the more adventurous boys of
the school football team. On the appointed day after games the boys were
all excitedly, if decidedly nervously waiting in the changing room knowing
they would have to be brave and display their hairless wares, if they were
ever to learn the dark secret. Terry was also very, very nervous, his own
constant masturbation was one thing, but even he had never exposed himself
before and yet now, here he was about to give a live masturbation,
master-class and demonstration to his friends.

That was until fate so cruelly intervened to change poor Terry's life
forever. Just as he had rather apprehensively pulled the leg of his shorts
up to display his erection and start the lesson all the other boys all
started pointing and burst out laughing.

"Me six year old baby brothers got one bigger than that!" shouted Simon.

"So's our little dog!" added Rob unwisely giving a hint to one of his
special interests.

"Yeah look at mine, it's twice as big as `is!" cried Gerry, who as a true
exhibitionist who couldn't have waited any longer to pull his shorts down
anyway.

Gerry's action was nevertheless swiftly followed by the entire group which
did indeed confirm that poor Terry was only half the boy that they were and
in those few humiliating minutes he slipped from extrovert to introvert.

It was an experience he was never going to forget and became determined
never to expose himself ever again. By sheer will power and an exceedingly
brave face he managed to get through the rest of his time at both junior
and senior school whilst keeping his mini-appendage from view. With his
incessant masturbation habit and attraction for other boys it wasn't always
easy and he would feel very jealous at times knowing things could be
happening in the changing rooms or showers to which he would loved to have
joined in. But, unable to allow himself to link with the giggling, sticky
throng he would retreat to the safety of his bedroom after school and
masturbate until on the verge of a coma whilst fantasising over what he
thought he had probably missed.

Leaving school at sixteen and not being particularly academic he found
himself taking an apprenticeship to be a joiner, something which had the
advantage of being able to wear a traditional woodworking apron. It didn't
take him long to realise that beneath the apron he could happily play with
himself to while the hours away, in effect sharpening his own chisel. By
the time he was eighteen, under cover of the apron he was regularly
masturbating three or four times a day into his white underpants. The slimy
sensation of walking around afterwards was a thrill in itself and often the
entire an act was committed whilst secretly observing Dave, other bum
fluffed apprentice who by sheer coincidence also had a moving apron.

Dave was also eighteen, he wore glasses and if anything was somewhat
smaller than Terry with very blond hair, so he really did look only about
fourteen at he most. He had become the subject of many of Terry's bedtime
fantasies, especially since he was incapable of removing his hands from his
pockets and was always playing with himself. Even though they got on very
well the subject of sex was acknowledged, but never mentioned and Terry was
convinced that Dave was another lonely, solitary wanker doing exactly as he
did several times a day. In the workshop that was to press himself against
the bench as he masturbated, sometimes even with a hand down the front of
his slimy briefs under the all encompassing cover of his apron. Dave did
exactly the same thing and Terry quickly deduced that once Dave's glasses
started wobbling on the end of his nose it was a sure sign that was about
to ejaculate.

One day Terry determined to himself, he was going to pluck up courage and
broach the subject of mutual masturbation. He was only too well aware that
little Dave had only once made him a very veiled, if tentative and highly
embarrassed approach which skirted around the subject of inviting him to
partake of mutual self-abuse. Incredibly embarrassed and very red in the
face Terry had managed to deflect the subject, but nevertheless he had
later wondered if maybe, just maybe that Dave might be more than a little
boy orientated as well? Queer was actually the word.

Time passed. Meanwhile, more spunk flowed and dribbled down legs.

Even though Terry had turned eighteen some time before he celebrated the
occasion again whilst whiling away the morning tea break working out that
with an average of five wanks a day he had ejaculated at least three
thousand five hundred times since starting at the workshop! However, what
he knew and didn't really want to admit, was that it was a very solitary
sexual existence. He desperately needed something to spice his sex life up,
other than an occasional carrot shoved up his bottom, even if seductively
smeared in Vaseline.

So sadly, even at eighteen a thrusting Adonis he was not. His body hadn't
really developed either, least of all his much abused cock although it
would stretch to a whole four inches if the foreskin was
included. Altogether, whilst he may have grown more than the odd straggle
of bumfluff on his top lip, his pubes were remarkably sparse. He really
didn't look much older than when he was fifteen, which was exactly what his
mother thought as she continued to buy all his clothes including the
occasional vest!

But, there was an upside. He had already passed his driving test and
acquired a very beaten up Austin A30 in which he could now escape the
confines of his bedroom to cruise the local parks and watch younger boys
playing football. The only advantage of being so physically ill equipped
was that his jeans would never bulge obscenely, so he could happily
masturbate unnoticed in the car whilst ogling all the boys running around
in their little white short shorts.

However, on waking one particular Saturday morning he was about to discover
life was about take a very unexpected turn. Driven by a sudden overwhelming
desire to do more than just ejaculate yet again into his already starched
pyjamas, as in fact he did every morning, he was absolutely determined to
find some other means of physical stimulation.

Such strong feelings had been instigated for the most part, from the
previous nights dream that comprised vivid images of Dave dressed in a
tight white gym kit and kept occupied with various acts of depravity all as
instructed by Terry as his PE teacher. Such was the profundity of the dream
that he awoke that morning with not only the ever present erection, but
with his blue and green striped pyjamas firmly adhering to his
stomach. Even he was embarrassed at having such a monumental wet dream at
his age, the staining on the bottom sheet offering irrefutable proof that
indeed he had. Disguising the evidence from his mother would be tricky, but
satisfying his continuing lust quite another. In fact satisfying his lust
was exactly what happened next, since no morning would be complete without
the aforesaid mandatory ejaculation into his pyjamas.

Pondering the problem of how to attain gratification in solo mode when
being intrinsically shy and incapable of importuning on his own behalf, he
racked his brains over breakfast as to what he could do to obtain
satisfaction. He had though, already made one decision and that was he was
going to drive somewhere with the sole intention of ejaculating into his
shapeless Y-fronts. Well, it was a start anyway.

Just then, on finishing the second piece of toast his cock leapt upwards in
a true eureka moment, as in fact had Archimedes in his bath many years
before. Offering a truly hands-on solution it harked back to the previous
year when he had first passed his driving test and used to regularly take
solo drives around the countryside. Those drives involved doing something
he would never admit too and had not done for some time. Simply he was
doing the rounds of secluded lay-bys looking for signs of illicit couplings
and sexual detritus, a truly disgusting but strangely satisfying habit.

It proved impossible to describe the thrill he derived from poking used
condoms about with a stick and scouring the bushes for items of discarded
clothing or tattered pornographic magazines. And, of course it was all part
of the very same mindset that had been deployed when he was at school and
furtively looked through the clothes hanging in the changing room for semen
stains to appease his underwear fetish. Whether the thrill was due to
carrying out illicit act itself or the handling of another's deposits
didn't really matter since all such episodes invariably concluded with him
ejaculating in his underpants or sometimes as back then, over those in the
changing room itself!

There were essentially four main areas to trawl around forming part of a
ten mile circuit woven around the main roads just outside of the city. Two
were typically wooded pull-ins on main roads as frequented by lorry drivers
and sales reps who, as Terry had discovered quite early on would often
bequeath a dog-eared, stained pornographic magazine to the bushes. The
other two sites were in essence short portions of original main roads that
had been bypassed due to improvement works and generally proved to be far
more fruitful in terms of titillation and sexual spoils.


Just as he had thought, it being a Saturday the first couple of sites
didn't provide anything of real interest. They appeared to have been taken
over by a convoy of caravanners en route to a rally somewhere on the coast,
the very thought of which was anathema in itself. However, on reaching the
first of the lay-bys proper and pulling off the main road Terry was
delighted to see that there were no other cars around. Neither had the
thick belt of trees which screened either side of the roadway been trimmed
back as it had on the main carriageway itself, although the old road
surface itself was now degrading.

Since there was no through traffic it didn't really matter which side he
parked on and he opted to pull up so as to open the door directly onto the
unkempt grass verge at a spot he had stopped at in the past. From there a
well worn pathway disappeared back into the wooded area beyond, to a small
clearing where he correctly imagined that many a cock had shot it's
load. In the past it had also seen his own very modest organ spew it's load
of spunk over the foliage whilst he ogled a hastily amassed selection of
used condoms garnered from around him. That aspect certainly hadn't
changed, even just quickly glancing around he saw at least five or six
bloated with discharge which rapidly brought him to a full erection,
something else which hadn't changed!

Exactly what the fascination of examining such disgusting artifacts was
about he didn't know, although it seemed to be a combination of the trapped
semen together with speculation as whether the condom had been inside a
male or a female. Whatever, just as before he soon found himself poking
them around with a stick in a bizarre attempt to empty out the contents to
see which held the most! Quite where the strange game would have eventually
taken him would never be known since it was interrupted by the sound of car
drawing up. Snapping back to reality he dropped the stick and peered out
through the undergrowth to see that a cream coloured Ford Anglia had pulled
up some seventy yards or so behind his own.

It was definitely time to make a very hasty exit to avoid being caught and
severely humiliated should his undoubted fetish be discovered, such
depraved voyeuristic acts were forever destined to be remain his secret. In
this case though, he remained motionless, rooted to the spot while waiting
to see the car door open. When, to his complete surprise a big, blond
haired woman looking about thirty, dressed in a long blue skirt, suddenly
got out and looked up towards his car.

Assuming she was waiting for a man to arrive and physically cement their
tryst with some semen somewhere in the bushes, Terry could do nothing
except wait and see what developed. As the seconds ticked slowly by he
became even more worried as thoughts of being apprehended while surrounded
by his collection of used condoms and worse be confronted by a real woman!
The seconds became minutes with the woman merely standing and looking
around as though waiting for somebody, finally to his relief she turned and
made her way slowly into the bushes by her car to disappear from view.

With his heart frantically pounding he made a lightening dash for his own
car, luckily it started immediately and he shot off down the lay-by and out
onto the main road in a cloud of dust. Even so, despite being so scarily
interrupted whilst about to gratify his most base instincts and having to
make such a high speed escape, he was still very much aroused and most
definitely sexually unfulfilled. Undoubtedly the risk factor had made him
even more excited, almost it seemed to point where he wanted to get
caught. Thus spurred on as to what could be awaiting him, he drove the
couple of miles to the final lay-by in record time, it usually being
arguably the largest and most productive site of them all.

As he turned off the main road and pulled into it, he saw his prayers for
it to be deserted had been answered, his rampant cock showed it's own
appreciation with the foreskin oozing precum to start a wet spot on his
briefs. As before he parked in what had become his favourite spot and
opened the car door onto grass verge. It was a well trodden spot and just
as in the previous location featured an even more well trodden path which
led back into small clearing formed within the trees.

Although it had been quite some time since he had last visited, the place
looked very familiar except with the addition of what looked like some fly
tipping further away towards the other exit back to the main road. The fly
tipping was of no interest, but the sight of several used condoms and the
remains of a torn, mud spattered pornographic magazine near the path most
certainly were.

With one hand down the front of his jeans soothing his slimy, aching cock,
his other was gainfully employed poking the numerous discarded condoms
around with a convenient stick. Knowing this was one sexual pursuit he
could never ever admit to anybody, he studiously emptied them all onto a
piece of waste cardboard whilst frequently, if furtively looking around to
ensure he was alone. What came next was quite repellant in the extreme and
he knew it, unable to control himself he rubbed a finger in the revolting
slime and then sniffed, even for him licking it was a step too far. It was
then time to turn his attention to the remains of the magazine which sadly
proved to be very disappointing as it turned out to be strictly
heterosexual and only contained pictures of the female form with not a
throbbing erection in sight.

But, this was no time for disappointment. There were yet the bushes to
explore and in those very same bushes he had previously found some pages
from a genuine homosexual magazine, albeit in black and white, but huge
cocks there most certainly were. The path through the bushes, led back to a
small clearing which other than offering even more tattered condoms and a
multitude of yellowing, suspiciously stained tissues had little to
offer. That was, except for what appeared to be another opening that had
been forged through the undergrowth since his last visit and headed off in
a different direction, it drew Terry along like an electro-magnet.

Not yet being such a well worn track, the foliage brushed against him as he
excitedly followed the twists and turns of the path, after some yards it
ended inside another slightly smaller natural clearing bound on all sides
by thick bushes. Without the frequent visitors that the main clearing
enjoyed, the amount of sexual bounty to be had had dwindled to what might
be described as a maturing collection of yellowing tissues and of course
more used condoms.

Feeling rather disappointed that at having made the effort to battle
through the vegetation to get there Terry decided he might as well have a
really good look around. Spooked on a couple of occasions by noises in the
bushes from what turned out to be no more than wood pigeons looking for
more berries, he started his search on the premise that as it was such a
secret place surely there must be something to find. He was not to be
disappointed.

"Oh fucking hell! Wot's this!" he exclaimed excitedly to himself on seeing
what appeared to be a piece of dirty white material partly obscured by a
bush.

It wasn't just a piece of any old dirty white material, for on dragging it
into the open with his trusty stick he immediately recognised the white
ribbed fabric and what it could only be, the answer to a teenage underwear
fetishists dream. Propriety told him not to touch it, so it was with a
shaking hands holding a stick in each, he managed hoist it up and partially
spread it out over the bush in front of him for examination. In fairness
the briefs didn't look as though it had been on the ground for more than a
couple of days and since it had not rained were not too soiled at all.

So, arguably against his better judgement, but unable to resist he
discarded the sticks and used his hands to smooth them out as best he
could. To find underpants in this situation had been one of his many
fantasies, although missing from this actual fantasy was the person who had
been wearing them. It was of course a pair of the ubiquitous Y-fronts, they
were not very old, the seat badly torn and semen stained although it was
nothing compared to the yellowing fly which Terry deduced from his own
experience had been in receipt of a considerable amount of semen.

Invariably during the course of the examination his own jeans found
themselves falling around his ankles as he began to masturbate whilst
conjuring up all sorts of images as to who might have worn them. There was
one clue which aroused him even more, the Scott & Lyle label on the
waistband showed them fitting a size twenty-eight inch waist. By
coincidence that was actually his own size so therefore could they have
belonged to somebody of his own age and if so just what could they have
been doing in the bushes!

He decided he would take them home, but then again, maybe not. Instead, he
was going to wear them home!

Absolutely fixated at the discovery, his mind visualising all manner of
debauched scenarios with the torn seat and hopefully their slim young
owner, he was determined to put them on and do his best to saturate them
with his own spunk, then to wear them home. Staring at the yellowing fly he
kicked off his shoes, followed rather awkwardly by his jeans and briefs
which were left strewn over the grass, barely managing to hold back
ejaculation precum hung from the end of his wrinkled foreskin.

The sun shone, the wood pigeons ate the red berries and defecated pink poo
while Terry delighted in putting on the most repellant pair of underpants
imaginable. In fact to him all was perfectly perfect. His arousal level had
gone off the arousal scale, the drips of precum from his cock were rapidly
turning into a dribble and sliding down over the two fingers grasping his
cock which barely poked through the stained fly. His other hand was being
somewhat more proactive and already found it's way through the tear in the
seat to force a nail bitten, grubby, if energetic finger right up his
bottom to agitate his prostate.

Even for his small cock a truly incredible climax threatened and it really
was only moments away.

"I could help you with that!"

But, surely the voice was just a figment of his very overwrought
imagination?

Although, evidently his cock hadn't thought so, having instantly lost all
interest and immediately started to shrink, quickly disappearing back
through the stained fly and allowing the string of precum to fall and
adhere to his leg.

Once his heart had restarted, he was in a state of, utter, complete and
monumental disbelief. Finally, he found sufficient courage to very slowly
turn his head.

The blond haired woman dressed in blue was standing so as to block the only
possible exit and was already occupied in feverishly hitching up her skirt.

It could have been heart failure or had he simply fainted? Terry would
never really know as in shock he ungraciously slumped, to collapse in a
sweaty palpitating heap. However, his finger was still embedded deep in his
bottom even if his once proud member had now shrunken to literally a mere
shadow of it's former four inches.

Not so much waking as stirring, his eyes blinked briefly in the bright
sunlight only to close again allowing him to float back into
semi-consciousness and remain in the horizontal position. Any inducement to
return to reality was offset to a large degree by the varied erotic
thoughts and the wonderful feelings that were radiating from the fingers
wrapped around his cock. In any case, trying to recall what had happened
and why exactly he was currently in such a strange situation was proving
far harder than he imagined, so really why bother and just enjoy the
sensations.

Imagination being such a wonderful thing, it was as though he were being
attended to by the hand of another, although even in his dreamlike state
experience dictated that using a well lubricated left hand would indeed
feel just like that of another person. Whatever, there was no time for
further thought. All too soon ejaculation was upon him, the fingers gripped
tighter as his cock exploded sending a powerful blast of semen in the air
only to shower back down upon him from a great height.

It was dark when Terry finally came round. At first glance it looked like
the heavens and moon were directly above, but somehow the atmosphere wasn't
clear enough, it felt stuffy and airless. Raising his head he was startled
to discover the moon and heavens were far closer that he had ever imagined
possible, in fact they were undeniably tangible. So tangible in fact, they
were within an inch of his head and he had actually thrust his face right
into them.

Frank, alias Francis the cross-dresser as he liked to be known, was all but
sitting on Terry's face. The blond wig having slipped looked distinctly
askew and revealed the darker short hair beneath, the blue skirt had been
decorously draped so as to cover both Terry's torso and Frank's bare bottom
which now straddled his face. The fact Terry had recently shown a very
positive sign of life had been more than enough of a cue for Frank to lower
himself onto him.

Unsurprisingly, Terry's continuing efforts to struggle, hoping to break
free only served to heighten Frank's state of arousal. In turn he pressed
his bottom even further onto Terry's face totally muffling any cries for
help and worse, added to Terry's already agitated state by squashing his
nose into a very hairy, sweaty sphincter.

Disappointed on realising that Terry was not going play, Frank moved to be
on all fours with his genitalia dangling above Terry's face, although still
deliberately covered by his skirt. Leaning over, he opened Terry's shirt to
bare his white hairless chest and ran his fingers all over his body making
him tremble, albeit with a growing apprehension that something pleasant
might follow. Then, with heavily rouged lips he devoured the whole of
Terry's cock in one movement and began to suck it clean, including all of
the most unsavoury, gooey substances that had been residing in the base
folds of the foreskin which itself had been long overdue for a good wash.

Finally, his taste buds satisfied Frank decided it was high time that he
also ejaculated and rearranging his skirt, returned to his original
position with Terry's nose again forced into his crack. Perched above
Terry's face, Frank now produced from under the hem of the skirt his own
frighteningly large organ, it's sagging foreskin having been constantly
dripping precum onto Terry's puny chest.

Moments later a deluge of semen splattered across Terry's chest, stomach
and genitals from Frank's pulsating organ adding to this own unstinted
contribution. Frank, drawing his fingers through the hot semen first
sniffed and then licked them as he pressing himself down onto Terry's face
below. His final act was to pull Terry's newly acquired briefs back up and
thoroughly rub them around so they soaked up all of the semen.

In terms of sheer stimulation Frank rated their encounter at one hundred
and ten percent, it certainly wasn't every day that he could expect to come
across a delightful young man, already unconscious and partially undressed
just waiting to be toyed with and dishonoured. The taste of semen lingered
on Frank's lips as he completed his detailed inspection of Terry's nether
regions and his now, very small, flaccid cock. Preparing to get up, he
sucked the last traces of semen from his fingers and prised himself off
Terry, only to be halted in mid-air by a familiar voice.

"Hey Frank, reckon he'd he let me have him if you've finished?"

"What!" startled, Frank looked up quite unaware he had been observed. "Oh,
fuck..  Pete, what the fuck are you doing here, it's a bit off your patch
isn't it?"

Petrified, Terry squinted through his eyelashes, his view somewhat obscured
by Frank's hairy legs immediately in front of him, nevertheless he had to
try to see what was happening.

"Well, I though I might get a good fuck over here, that bleeding cottage is
dead, ain't nobody there." Pete was somewhere in his late forties, heavily
built and sporting a massive bulge in his trousers, both hands were in his
pockets.

"Well you can fuck me, `cause he can't," Frank grinned and stood up,
straightening first his skirt and then lopsided wig, "anyway he really
ain't a big boy, but he does make a lot of spunk though!"

"Wot, fuck you... again?" asked Pete mulling the offer over.

"Yeah me, again. Look, he's only a kid and he don't do nothing except lie
there, besides he too young for that fucking great cock what you got, you'd
split the poor sod in half!"

"Oh, you're right," said Pete moving to stand over Terry and look down, "he
don't look very old, wot is he fifteen, sixteen? Oh, fuck he's tempting
isn't he! But, I just ain't risking fucking about with some under age kid!"

"That's a bit late for me!" Frank laughed. "Still I `spose you're right
really."

"What's up with him anyway? Wot you done to him other than wank all over
him?"

"Ah, he's alright, just getting his breath back," Frank winked, "we had a
go rimming, but he didn't quite get it!"

"What, he knew what it was?"

"No, don't think so, but it was fun trying!"

"You silly sod!" Pete glanced down again. "Has he.. uumm.. got a big cock?"

"Nah, poor little sod, it's fucking tiny, have a look."

 Frank leant over and pulled the briefs back to reveal, well not a lot
really!

"Cute though innit?" Pete grinned. "No, no I gotta resist, he's too fucking
young!"

Once liberated, Terry might have been expected to have leapt up and
remonstrated with Frank. Instead, he purposely remained where he was with
eyes closed. Feeling extremely vulnerable dressed in the reclaimed briefs
and just a little upset that he had been referred to as merely a boy with a
small cock, yet thankful the visitor had declined his body. Without moving
his head he strained through half closed eyes to see who it was that had
joined Frank, whoever it was they were certainly well, in not very
intimately acquainted.

"Well d'you want it then?"

"Want what? A fuck?"

"Yeah, what else? Look, just bloody bend over I'm horny as hell!" said Pete
to the accompaniment of rustling and a zip being pulled down. "Look I ain't
come all this way just to see you poncing about in your fucking frock!"

"Fucking hell Pete, I'd forgotten how big it is!"

Frank had turned to look behind only to see the gnarled nine inches
sprouting from Pete's fly, the foreskin already retracted and the head
glistening in the sunlight.

"What about him down there?"

Pete nodded towards Terry, who even though he was pretending to be flat out
could not stop his cock raising itself under cover of the spunky briefs. It
seemed he was about to witness the impending coupling with Pete sinking his
frighteningly large organ into Frank.

"He can bloody watch if he's awake can't he, educate him a bit!"

Spitting into the palm of his hand Pete rubbed it around the head of his
cock then turned to see Frank still trying to get his skirt to stay out of
the way. "Now fucking bend over and get that sodding frock out the way!"

"What about a condom?" asked Frank.

"Well what about one?" Pete laughed. "I can't feel nothing with one of them
on, anyway you ain't got the fucking clap or nothing have you?"

"Don't think so."

"Well I ain't, so lets just bloody get on with it before somebody comes!"

Terry was indeed intending to watch even if the antics of the two men were
at times somewhat frightening, he had difficulty in believing that Pete's
monster organ would really fit inside Frank. Leaning on a convenient tree
trunk with his legs apart Frank waited for Pete who had just thrown the
recalcitrant skirt back over Frank's head and appeared to be now lining up
the head of his cock. After making a few tentative sorties to check the
trajectory it was without any further warning that he rammed himself
mercilessly into Frank.

Even Terry winced as Frank screamed with the pain of Pete's forceful
entrance.

Taking no notice of the suffering he was causing, nor Frank's very vocal
objections Pete continued to batter his way in until his large, hairy balls
were banging freely against Franks buttocks.

"You've always had a lovely tight hole!" purred Pete. "And you put such a
nice fucking frock on for me as well!"

"You bitch!" protested Frank, the strained expression on his face and his
voice an octave higher really saying it all.

"No! You're the fucking bitch that wanted fucking!" countered Pete,
continuing to remorselessly pound away Franks bottom. "And, you know you
bloody love it!"

"For fucks sake go easy.. you'll split me!" screamed Frank putting his
hands behind to try to spread his buttocks and ease the pain.

"Bitch! It's what you want... what a fucking lovely ass you got!"

Silently, Terry watched totally gripped by the scene. What he was now
witnessing was enough to get him aroused again, nevertheless he was
actually very shocked at what the men were doing to each other.

It was certainly buggery, only not in the way he had ever envisaged
it. When viewed through his rose tinted spectacles he'd always thought of
it as a gentle act, not at all rough and animalistic as this. Was this how
older homosexuals generally behaved? There was no doubt that he had been
really frightened by what had happened to him with Frank, it was not
something he was going to forget, even though no real harm had taken
place. The fact he had brought it all on himself by having been on a truly
disgusting quest for evidence of sexual activity in an area known for
sexual liaisons didn't enter into it!

Eventually the cries of pain diminished leaving both men grunting in
appreciation of Frank's tight hole as Pete continued to vigorously pump
away. It seemed to Terry that with both men now actively enjoying each
others body it could be his chance to escape. It could have been, it should
have been, but the attraction of watching the act reach it's climax was too
strong and after glancing around to check where all his possessions were,
he remained on the ground. One hand had already slowly pushed it's way
inside the soggy briefs, the head of his cock was nestling in the palm and
he was doing his best to bring himself to a silent climax when Pete did.

He didn't have to wait long before Pete was grabbing Frank firmly around
the waist and pulling them together, obviously from the trembling legs and
groaning the end was close. To his credit, Terry's spent cock managed to
squirt a few watery blobs into his hand, small his cock may have been, but
it was always game!

However, whilst Pete may have ejaculated the show as Terry was about to
discover was not over yet. Lying there, his hand covered in spunk and
wondering whether or not to make a dash to freedom, Pete suddenly withdrew
from Frank with what could only be described as an almighty plopping sound.

"Right you fucking bitch, now you're gonna clean me up!"

Pete spun Frank around exposing what looked to Terry nothing but a huge
empty black gaping hole where his hairy, puckered sphincter used to be.

"Oh Pete, no! No!"

"You fucking are!"

Mesmerised by Frank's disappearing sphincter, Terry watched as something
started to trickle out and slide down the back of Frank's leg. Unsure what
to do or think, he swallowed nervously having just realised that Pete's
semen enema was now taking effect, revolting or not he couldn't take his
eyes off what was being exuded, that was until Pete spoke.

"Now you bitch, I said fucking clean it up!"

With that Pete grabbed Frank by the back head, immediately knocking his wig
off and forced him down to take his cock, still twitching and dripping with
the slimy contents of Frank's anal tract. Despite Frank's obvious
struggling he was forced to take the full length of Pete's enormous weapon,
gagging in the process and plainly finding it as uncomfortable as Terry was
in finding to watch.

With very confused feelings and close to tears with all visions of genteel
homosexual sex shattered Terry suddenly leapt to his feet. Wildly grabbing
at his jeans and shoes he ran off through the bushes at the speed of light
leaving the two men looking somewhat bemused at his rapid departure,
especially since he had set off wearing only the unbuttoned shirt and the
torn, sodden briefs.

"What a nice little boy, oooh fuck look at him!" Pete watched him rapidly
disappear from view whilst very slowly withdrawing his wilting member. "If
only!"

"Thank fuck for that!" gasped Frank wiping his mouth and standing
upright. "I'll swear that thing of yours gets bigger every time!"

"Wishful thinking!" said Pete looking down the empty path. "That little
boy, oooh fuck, so cute... I'd have him in me bed any night!"

"You'd bloody kill him!" said Frank having only just noticed Terry own
briefs lying on the ground behind them. "What's that there then?"

"Well I might stretch him a bit, but not kill him!" Pete laughed,
preoccupied with picking something from his foreskin.

Frank didn't immediately reply since he was deeply engrossed in examining
Terry's underpants which had been discarded in great haste under a bush
earlier. "These must be that kids, look at all them cum stains, the dirty
little sod!"

"Just to watch him making 'em would be fun wouldn't it?" observed Pete
pushing his somewhat clammy monster back into his fly. "Now come on Frank,
lets fucking move before we get caught. I `spose you got something to
change into so you can get out of that fucking frock?"

"Yeah, yeah, course, in the car." Frank was far more interested in sniffing
his find.

"Well, hurry up and let's go, you can wank over his pants later!" said
Pete. "We'll have a cup of tea somewhere and you can tell me about all
about you're latest perverted couplings!"

"Yeah, I need something after that. I love your cock, put don't push the
bloody thing down me throat so far next time!"

On reaching the outer clearing Terry had paused only long enough to pull
his jeans and shoes on without even bothering to fasten them up. Checking
behind him and seeing nobody in pursuit he started running again, this time
to the car and the safety of home.

He was nearly halfway home before he allowed his thoughts to turn to what
Pete and Frank had said about him. Neither had denigrated his small cock,
in fact as he recalled both had actually thought it was rather cute. So,
logically he reasoned to himself that if two real, very well equipped,
adult sized, practising homosexuals thought it acceptable and didn't laugh,
then maybe, well just maybe others wouldn't either?

 Admittedly, there were an awful lot of maybe's in his life that day, so
would just one more maybe really hurt? Maybe not! Maybe size wasn't that
important any more?

He smiled to himself as he drove on, even blinking back the odd tear when
he realised life was finally taking on a new meaning. It most certainly had
and with that very realisation the odd tears had quickly turned into a
flood to become tears of joy. and before reaching home he had to pull into
the side of the road to compose himself. Somehow he knew it was time, the
right time for him to grasp the opportunity to change his life forever, it
was time to loose the penile phobia that had obsessed him for far too long.

His mind was firmly made up. On the following Monday morning there were
going to be no more maybe's, he was going to move right next to Dave
immediately those glasses start wobbling and slip his hand under Dave's
apron to help matters along. Neither would they have to say anything,
instinct would do the rest and besides, how did he know that Dave didn't
have an even smaller one? Well, maybe he did!

Despite the tears, such thoughts could only have one consequence. Imagining
his own hand was now down the front of the Dave's trousers, he found his
erection still festooned in Frank's thick, congealed spunk and needing no
lubricant as it spat forth.

Even though deliriously happy, his briefs awash and smelling of semen he
was still unable to stem the odd tear he set off down the road. Quite
understandably really, since he was striving to contain an imagine of
sitting next to Dave in the car whilst they watched the younger boys
playing football in the park together. Maybe, well just maybe, the
adorable, the cuddly, the diminutive little Dave would even dress up in
white football kit for him!

And, as if you hadn't guessed they all lived happily, if somewhat stickily
ever after.

Fin.