Date: Thu, 20 Dec 2007 10:06:06 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack deGropier <jackdegropier@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boi  Whore Part 2

And I WANTED him to take control. All my life I had secretly longed to
make love with a young boy. All those years as a schoolteacher watching
the boys in the shower after games, all those years of smelling their
fresh young male aroma, all those years of masturbating while I looked at
pics of boys or read other people's accounts of how they had been with a
boy -- all those years of yearning, and now it seemed it was my turn at
last. Oh yes, and all those years of marriage, pushing my cock into my
frigid wife and all the time imagining she was really a fresh young boy
and her slack ugly cunt was really a tight sweet boi-hole, all those
years of frustrated longing seemed about to come to an end.
As he wrapped his practised young fingers round the shaft of my cock,  he
looked up at me and smiled. Not an impish grin, just a warm smile. I
touched his hair and as I did so,  he began to stroke my cock expertly,
causing me to pant as he worked his magic on me. I felt tears in my eyes
and cursed myself for my sentimentality. This young boy was just a whore,
doing it for money, he had no other interest in me beyond the contents of
my wallet. But, I have to say, he seemed to be totally absorbed in
stroking my cock, and he was doing it SO well. I suppressed the thought
that he must have jacked off dozens of men in his young life. For now, he
was just doing ME!
"You wanna cum, mister? Or you wanna do me?"
"Do you?"
"Hey, man, you paid for it. You want it, you just got to say."
Oh god! How could I tell him that I had never fucked a boy before? I
could I tell him that I didn't know what to do? I mean, sure, my cock
was hard, and he was offering me a hole to put it in, but there's one
helluva difference between that smelly slack gash that my wife provided
and the tight sweet hole of a boy.
Hell, it's easy to think about fucking a boy's lovehole, it's easy to
read about it, look at pictures of it, even to write about it, but to
actually DO it? I looked at my young boi whore, who had now stopped
wanking me, and was just holding my cock in his little fist as if he was
waiting for my next move. Which, of course, he was.
"What do YOU want?" I asked, and immediately realised it was a foolish
question.
He shrugged.
"I don't mind. I had a man's cock in me before, and it's cool."
"Cool? Does that mean you liked it? Having a man's cock inside you, I
mean?"
I really wasn't sure what "cool" meant. I thought of all those
delicious boys running naked from the shower after games. Maybe every
boy's anal passage was designed for love. Maybe. Loveholes, boi
loveholes, where a man's hard cock is meant to be. Yes, it made sense to
me.
"Yeah." He looked at me quizzically. "You never did it with a boy
before, did you, mister?"
This kid! Wise beyond his years. He knew the score better than I did.
"No, I never did. I dreamt about it a million times, but I never did
it."
He grinned.
"No problem, mister! Let me show you what to do."
I was a schoolteacher, well into my forties, and here was this stripling
of a kid teaching me about love! About the best and most wonderful love
there is, the love between a hard horny man and a hot willing boy. And I
let him. It was just amazing. He licked my fingers into his mouth,  and
guided them to his warm tight boihole. He guided first one then two
fingers into him and nodded vigorously as I masssaged him, feeling his
pretty little rosebud sphincter yielding as I pushed my fingers deeper
into him.  Then we changed positions so that I could push my tongue into
him: a different taste now, a different aroma, darker, but even more
exciting than the scent of his boicum in my nostrils and on my tongue.
And then he clambered up on to my lap, his back to me, his plump buttocks
pressing into my belly. He wriggled and squirmed, exciting me more than
words can tell. My cock was between his legs now, sticking up obscenely
between his thighs. I reached round and held his cock which was already
stiff again.
"Now!" he whispered.
He manoeuvred so that the tip of my cock was pressing against his rosebud
sphincter, his hands reaching under to guide my cock into him. Did I
mention that I am uncut? As he lowered himself on to my cock, I felt my
foreskin peeling back so that my naked uncovered cockhead slid into him.
I felt the grip of his sphincter tighten -- did he do that deliberately?
-- to hold my cockhead behind its ridge, you know, that area where all
the most sensitive nerve-endings seem to be. Then he commanded me to put
my hands on his hips while he made short quick movements, no more than
maybe an inch up and down, so that his wonderful rosebud pucker massaged
my cock at its most sensitive point. I had never experienced anything
like it before. It reminded me of those masturbation sessions where I
edged for hours, but they were nothing compared to this. My young lover
knew exactly what effect he was having on me. He turned his head to look
at me.
"Nice?"
"Nice," I replied, my voice no more than a hoarse whisper.
"Wanna go deep in me, mister? Wanna fuck me real hard?"
Without waiting for my reply, he sank on to my cock up to the hilt. It
was so sudden, I was taken totally by surprise. I couldn't believe that
I would get all my mancock inside this young boy, but I did. And he knew
he could take it. And he took it. He began to bounce on my cock, raising
himself until only the tip of my cock was in him, and then sinking again
hard and deep so that I could not have got any more of my cock into him
if I had tried.
The sensations in my belly and along my thighs was unbelievable. And to
think that I, like so many men, had wasted YEARS of my life pushing my
cock into those slack soggy tunnels called cunts. What a waste! But now,
I was ALIVE at last! Every fibre of me was attuned to the movements of my
young lover. I reached round and took his stiffy in my fingers, wanting
to let him know how much I loved what we were doing together.
"Thanks, mister," he said softly. "Keep the rhythm, ok?"
It took me a moment to realise what he meant. I matched the stroking
movements of my hand over his young cock to the thrusting of my cock in
and out of his boyhole so that we moved in perfect harmony.
"I'm gonna cum!" I gasped.
"That's ok. Pump into me, mister. I love that!"
I pulled back until my cock was out of him, and then plunged back hard
and deep. The moment had arrived, that amazing stillness, like time had
stopped, before that wicked juddering as my cock stiffened and the first
surge of my loveseed exploded inside my young lover, deep, deep inside
him, filling him. And again, another stroke, another surge, and again and
again, until I was exhausted, shipwrecked. I had felt electric thrills
from my nips to the tips of my toes, long spasms through my body as I
emptied myself into him. I was barely aware that he too had cum, I was
barely aware that I had been masturbating him. I was barely aware of
anything except the amazing wonderful fuck that I had just experienced.
He leant back on my chest and sighed. My cock was still wedged tight
inside him. I felt him twitching, the last few caresses of my cock before
I detumesced and gradually slid out of him.
That first fuck was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and was
the only fuck that ever really satisfied me. More than that, it was the
only fuck that had any meaning for me. Once again, my young lover turned
his head and planted a kiss on my mouth.
"You're all right, mister," he said.

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