Date: Fri, 19 Feb 2016 23:10:54 +0000
From: Bruce Demosthenes <sourceskid@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dominated by the boy next door 39

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"When I was cuing up the sound with the video I heard the two of you,"
started Peter.  "You thought you were clever with your joke about Sheldon
Cooper to get him to move over on the couch and then your moving so you
were out of camera range when you guys started to fool around."

Was Peter mad at me, was that why he was doing this?

"I told you I would edit what I needed, and frankly if you hadn't kept that
stuff off camera I wouldn't be making you do it again," he continued.

"That stuff we did on the couch was harmless," I ventured.  "It was just to
get him to agree to fuck me which is what you said you wanted."

"It wasn't harmless," shot back Peter, with an edge that led me further to
believe he was mad at me for what I had done.  "I could hear cock-sucking
on the audio, which I assume was my father sucking your cock."

I blushed.

I thought about denying it but I didn't owe his father anything more and if
Peter was right, my trying to protect him had probably led to what was
happening now (the blackmail with the black and white kiddy porn of me and
Ian and his new plan for me to get together with his father a third time
and to fuck him).

"I figured," Peter said.  "You don't even like my old man, do you?"

I hadn't liked his father when I first met him because I found him pushy
(and I was feeling guilty as I was having sex with his son).  I had warmed
to him at the hockey game, but that goodwill had evaporated when I was
forced to let him fuck me (and he had done it so hard).  All I could
venture was "he seems like a nice man.  He doesn't deserve what we are
doing."

Peter ignored my last comment and said "a nice man that you have no
interest in having sex with.  In fact I think you find him revolting.
After all, you are into teens."

"I am not into teens," I said defensively.  "All of the guys I have dated
are between 18 and 25."

"I am only sixteen," shot back Peter.

I blushed.  I didn't need him to remind me he was ONLY sixteen.

"That is different," I began hesitantly, not sure how I would justify him
as the exception to my rule.  "When I first saw you and your brothers I
didn't really notice you, it was your oldest brother I was most drawn to."

"So you are only doing all this so you can sleep with my oldest brother,
yea right," said Peter dismissively.

"No, something happened over time," I said.  This wasn't about either of
his brothers, it was Peter who I was in love with, a boy who didn't love me
back (and maybe couldn't love anyone).

"You checked me out constantly when we passed each other on the street, and
you started looking in my bedroom window," said Peter.

"Not at first," I said, still on the defensive.  "It was only after months
of seeing you next door I began to notice you.  And then when you came
over, and we... well, you know, it is *blush*... it just happened."

"I guess you just fell for my charms," Peter sneered.  "After all I have
been so nice to you."

He had a point.  I was in a one-sided abusive relationship with him.  And I
couldn't explain how or why.

"But I don't like all teens," I suggested in my defence.

"What about Ian," he shot back.

I didn't know what to say.  Ian was only 13.  It was true I had feelings
for him (even though now I wondered if he had set me up for the video Peter
now had of me).

"That just happened too," I said.

"You brought him into my bed and I think my feelings, if I have feelings
for him, have more to do with you than with him," I confessed.

"I am not interested in your feelings," Peter said curtly.  "You are a fag
and I am interested in only what turns you on and turns you off."

"So what, I am a social experiment and you are a scientist trying to
understand gay people," I asked sarcastically, immediately regretting it
the second the words left my mouth.  Would Peter get even madder at me than
he was?

I was taken by surprise when Peter laughed.  "You can't do a study with
only one lab rat," said Peter.  "And I doubt you are representative of many
in the gay community.  Yes, it is a study, but not of gays."

I waited for him to explain further but he didn't venture anything and I
knew better than to ask.  I had already overstepped my bounds with my
sarcastic comment and counted myself lucky had hadn't reacted badly to my
tone.

"So back to my old man," said Peter.  "You hate having sex with him don't
you?"

I didn't know how to answer.  If I said I hated it he might make me do it
more than the one more time (I hoped only one more time) he was now forcing
me to do.  If I said I did like it then I would be lying and him catching
me in a lie could have even worse consequences.

Peter let me off the hook by answering his own question, saying "I have
seen how you look when you suck me, or I fuck your mouth or ass.  I saw how
you were with Ian, which is why I had to make the film black and white.
Your eyes get all glazed over.  You moan and pant.  You are like a bitch in
heat.  Even when I am using your mouth or ass roughly you have that look of
being in ecstasy.  You might think you were fooling my old man but no
matter how hard you tried to fake it and how much you begged to be fucked
it was obvious to me you hated it.  I know you and what you like."  Then
for emphasis he squeezed his cock through his pants.

Him squeezing his big cock, making its length and width visible through his
pants, caused my own cock to stir.  He did know what I liked.  There was no
denying I had a thing for this 16 year old boy and he knew it.

"So now that we have ascertained you hate my old man and love me, then why
the fuck were you two kissing," asked Peter, not in any way upset but it
seemed simply curious.  "You could hear it clearly on the recording, and it
went on for a while before you asked him to fuck you."

"He wanted to kiss earlier and I pulled away.  And I asked him before that
to fuck me, I whispered it in his year, but he didn't take the bait.  So I
thought if I kissed him he would get turned on and give in," I answered
truthfully.

Peter thought about this for a while.  Then he asked "do you think he will
agree to your fucking him."

"I honestly don't know," I said, pleased that he was asking and not
threatening me.

"Most guys draw lines," I started, which caused him to smirk, so I added
"and those lines can get pushed or crossed, but that doesn't mean that they
didn't have them in the first place or that they don't draw new ones just a
little further down on their list of what they will and will not do if they
cross them."

He stopped smirking and contemplated this.

When he didn't say anything I continued.  "Your father seems to have no
problem sucking or kissing a guy.  He didn't want to fuck me.  I don't know
if he had never tried it, had never contemplated it, didn't like the very
idea or thought it would be cheating on your mother."  When I mentioned his
mother Peter gave an involuntary grimace (I guess the boy can feel for
another person, just not the men in his life, he obviously cared for his
mom).

Peter responded, now visibly angry (it probably hadn't been wise to mention
his mom), "it doesn't matter if you like my old man or not.  It doesn't
matter where he draws the line.  You are going to invite my dad over to
watch hockey again this weekend.  At some point you will fuck him up the
ass."

The way Peter said 'up the ass' made me once again suspicious that he had
anger issues not just with me and what I had said but with his father.  I
was having a hard time believing this was all some elaborate plan to
somehow get his oldest brother into bed with me (an idea I liked) and
compromise him by making him cross his own (an idea I didn't like, but
seemed to be part of what was going on).  I was worried Peter was intent on
fucking his father figuratively and literally, and I was the literal
mechanism,

Peter got up and left my house.

My cock, which had hardened when he had squeezed his own through his pants
and stayed hard in the hopes that he would fuck my mouth or my ass when our
conversation was done, before he left, deflated.

Now I had to figure out how to make this happen.

END OF CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE