Date: Fri, 04 Aug 2000 23:36:09 +0200
From: zip lonesteen <lonesteen@topmail.de>
Subject: Latin Boy

The following story is true - but what is truth, incidentally? I'd say it's
what goes on within ourselves. It's the only thing we can really be sure
of:: our feelings. Language is one way of transforming feelings, of
"conveying" feelings, of communicating feelings. However, English is not my
native language...and this is my first English story. But still: it's my
contribution. I hope you'll like it.

Story submitted by Lonesteen.

You can e-mail me: lonesteen@topmail.de


Latin Boy 1

In my hometown there is a "location" which is specialized on bringing
together people with different needs. Now, what's that to say? Well, it's
simply that this "location" is nothing but a porn-cinema kind of thing, but
there are heterosexual films shown as well as a few gay films. There are
areas with large screens and rows of seats in front of them, but there are
some booths as well. Actually, the place is nothing but a gigantic cruising
zone. As I said, heterosexuals as well as homosexuals meet there. The
advantage of this specific cinema is, that it has a very convincing
hetero-outfit: consequently heterosexuals dare visiting the cinema. Once
they move in, they are a bit scared at first: you know: they are probably
afraid of being spied on, I guess. So they stroll along the booths on to
the large screens. Some big dicked guys fucking these pussys, jetting their
loads in their open mouths and stuff. Once their dicks get hard, pressing
achingly against the fabrics of their jeans, they get itchy feet: they
start exploring the place; especially the booths.

Looking into the booths they will surely not miss the glory holes: as I
said, the place is ideally suited for heteros who urgently need to be
sucked off, therefore the holes inside the walls are sufficiently large.
Not only the dicks fit through them but also the balls and sometimes even
more. The size of the holes vary: shy guys prefer the small ones to the
larger ones; but there are some who visit the cinema regularly and thus
become accustomed to the larger ones. Well, there are some dark areas there
as well, divided from the rest of the place by curtains...

Shall I mention that I am on the side of the hungry and lusting cocksuckers
or has that meanwhile become apparent? Actually, I can look back at quite a
considerable amount of blow jobs I offered there, and my gay-career had
started when I was about 13. I got used to serving heterosexuals, since
they are the ones who just hang out their dicks to be worshipped. I cannot
say that I was really satisfied with that "business", but it simply became
my routine. Now, the following incident marks the turning point of my gay
life...fortunately.

Well, the first time I came across this young Latino I nearly fainted right
on the spot. You know, I am 28 and pretty good looking I'd say, not the
feminine type of gay, nice face, trim body, nice package, and so on. I
tried to catch his view: and to my sheer astonishment, this guy followed me
wherever I went. So I started looking for a free booth, without being
lucky...Still, I didn't want to loose this boy. Dark haired, nearly black,
deep eyes, lean, boyish, with a very self confident posture. He was surely
aware of his benefits...a big package in his trousers which he used to
highlight in pushing his thighs forward while strolling through the place.
Well, I thought, if there's no free booth I shall try to get him into one
of the dark areas. The problem with these areas is that anybody may follow
you in there, and I didn't want anybody around. Not that I don't like
company or spectators, I don't mind, it's actually an extra turn on for me
to be watched. But you know, these Latino boys have lots of admirers,
especially in Germany, where you don't come across these guys too often. I
really didn't want to start up a gangbang which might have shied away my
Latino eventually. So I went behind the curtains and stood there waiting
for only a few seconds. My Latino was apparently hooked: he stepped right
in, following me on the spot. I looked him in the eye: not a hint of
insecurity, which I found quite unusual for such a young boy. He was
obviously quite aware of what he was there for. His view was so steady, so
powerful, that it seemed to press me down on my knees...even though I
wanted to make this encounter last. I had thoughts of exploring his whole
body before I wanted to go for his dick. It was magic, believe me.

Once he had me on my knees, facing his extra large crotch, he wrapped his
hands around my head and pulled it closer to his dick area...he was hot,
just hot, lusting for release for his Latino load he kept in a secret place
deep in his groin. I smelled his pheromones...the smell of overpowering
boyhood, the smell of an indescribable force which made him produce gallons
of boy juice. His left hand held my head close to his crotch while his
right opened up his jeans. Now, imagine the view: his shirt revealed his
brown smooth skin, a line of fluffy black hairs running down from his
boyish belly button, a raging boner, only the head of it, hidden in his
white briefs, which perfectly contrasted with the colour of his skin. He
apparently wanted me to experience the strength of his need a bit longer,
he wanted me to get high on the clean and yet testosteronic odour of his
body and groin...I usually take a sniff from my poppers bottle on such an
occasion, but his smell was even more stimulating than some poppers and it
really did the trick this time...

He pulled down his briefs, in retrospect I'd say it was like a slow-motion
of that movement: steadily, inch by inch of his briefs went down while inch
by inch of his teendick became visible...Just imagine! I could smell the
unmistakable smell of teenjizz: he must have been in a state of rage for
hours, since his dick was already slippery with precum.  All the while, he
held my head still, thus I couldn't approach his dick. He just forced me to
enjoy.

"Hey, baby, you like what you see? You want to taste a drop of precum? Yes,
sure you want to. Not yet, not yet. You know, this dick is 9 inches. Nine
inches of dick for you, baby, it's yours, promise. It's only yours, enjoy
it. Enjoy!", he whispered self-confidently while I discovered his low
hanging balls, full of hot Latino cream. Now that his briefs were down, his
right hand went to his dick and he started to rub it all through my face,
carefully avoiding my mouth. My complete face became slippery with his
musky teenprecum, but not my mouth. Thus I was forced to be decent and
content with the smell of his teen juice, with the anticipation of what was
yet to come.

Then he fleetingly touched my mouth. A drop of his precream moistened my
lips, and as he went on with his dick-journey all over my mouth, the stream
of this cumdrop became visible in the erratic light of this dark area...

"You like the taste of it? This is your sweet cream, baby. Just yours. I've
got more for you. A lot more. Taste it. Enjoy, baby, now, here comes my
dick. A full nine incher, only for you! You want it? You hungry, baby? Tell
me how much you want it!" I could only open my mouth, my hungry and
starving and panting mouth, I could only show my craving tongue, in
response. Then I saw a quick flex of his abdominal muscles and in one
single movement he fucked his teen dick deep into my mouth, past my velum,
deep inside my throat, where he rested.

I could sense that he really had to control himself. He was apparently
unbelievably in need of a big eruption, but yet he wanted to make it
last. Surprisingly, he was already past the stage of the 15 year old, that
just goes for the orgasm. Somehow he had already entered the stage of manly
love - a boy, a Latino, an exceedingly self-confident boy, with just some
sprinkled hair on his belly, but a deep mat of black pubes around his man
dick - and yet experienced enough to know what can increase his joy.
Erotic, he surely knew about the Eros of a sexual play.

"Are you ok?", he asked, looking down at his fat prick which had vanished
completely down my throat. "Are you fine? I mean, can you still breathe, or
shall I put my dick out a bit? I do of course know what I got down
there...it's big, isn't it? Can you taste it, or is it too deep in? You
want to taste it, baby?" Holding my head in a steady position he pulled out
his dick, offering me his slippery head, but yet keeping the distance, so
that only my tongue could reach his head. I saw his nine inch boy dick
eagerly twitching in front of my open mouth.

"Be careful now, baby, here it comes again, all the nine inches, here they
come, take them, they are yours!" He fucked his dick deep into my throat
again. And again he kept his dick down my throat without moving, it
forcefully flipped in my throat. The power of a young, self aware, Latino
bogyman. He seemed to know I was hooked, that I was - after only two
thrusts deep into me - addicted to him, his body, his youth, his juvenile
strength and passion, to his testosterone, to his fluids. He was sure that
he could do anything he wanted to. Anything. That made him only more proud
of himself than he had already been. The awareness of someone needing him
to get on. To survive. And indeed, if he had withdrawn then, I'm pretty
sure I would have died on the spot. Was there anything more relevant in my
world? What would have been more important than the joy of this boy stud.
Smelling horridly of testosterone. My whole world dissolved into this boy
and like a baby sucking at a mother's breast my only chance to survive was
to make him give me back each and every drop of my world in order to be
capable of surviving this erotic attack. The moment I smelled, I monitored
the power of him, I started to offer him everything I belonged. And that's
the deal: I had to work for getting it back. My sense of life. At this very
moment he could have killed me, I didn't own anything but his loving care,
his dick buried deep inside myself was my only connection to the world. I
saw the world through his groin. Did I need air to breathe? No, surely not,
since his dick was too big to let me breathe. But at the same time he was
deeply convinced that I wouldn't let it go. He knew of the conditions of
our deal. A deal between two bodies. A deal between two mammals. There
aren't many men out there, who know that they aren't only human, but that
humans are mammals. With needs. So many men seem to have forgotten about
this shocking but at the same time simple truth. They try to act
cultivated, which is ok, but never forget that we're all humans. Have you
ever watched dogs at it? Have you ever seen a stallion pumping his fat
fucker into a horse? Watching animals at it is a way of re-inventing your
mammality, I'd say. Not that I want to opt for an uncultivated way of
life. Not that I wouldn't argue for the necessity of our human ratio. But
we're not completely made of rational thoughts, civility. There's more to
us: passion. And I guess it's one of passion's conditions to be able to
lose yourself totally, completely. To get lost. Yes, to dissolve into
another being.

Still choking on his teen meat I felt his right hand approaching my face.
He touched me gently, caringly, while I was still fighting against my need
for air. His touch consoled me. His touch replaced my need for oxygen.
Slowly, his fingers tickled my cheeks. His right hand moved further around
my head, touching my left ear. His left hand grabbed my other ear. Then he
began to move in and out. Slowly. Ever so slowly. He had the time of the
world, since he was the master of our two-minded world. And he was the
master over his testosterone. He must have fought many battles, in which he
was losing his juices too fast, but eventually, he had struggled through to
victory. He sure knew how to enjoy, how to be passionate. And still he was
so young.

Unluckily, another guy then entered the scene. He interrupted our play. He
wanted to interfere, to particulate. He tried to grab the teen dick. He
went for my buttons. I couldn't move, but the teen pushed him away,
although he knew that this was just a momentary solution. My Latino boy
bent down, close to my ears and whispered:

"Baby, this cannot last long here. I know these guys. They want to steal
your present, your reward. But my seed is yours. I'll start fucking you
now. I'll fuck you till you pass out, baby. But it's not what I felt what
should happen between us. I feel as if there's magic here, between us,
within us. Can you feel it? I feel as if you are mine. You are mine. But
before I can get out of here, I got to give. I got to give back what I took
from you. And there's a lot I can give. Enough for you to get through the
day, baby. There are gallons of seed here inside of me. They are your
source of life now. Without my juices you won't be able to survive. Make
sure that you drink every drop of it. I cum in litres, be warned. Don't you
believe me? Well, you'll see..."

He took hold of my head, pressed it deep onto his prick, he grabbed my ears
and started to fuck my mouth. A staccato. In the state I was in, every
second was like a lifetime. I saw his abdominal muscles at work, they
flexed. He worked up a slight sweat which moistened my face. My hands
reached for his furry legs. I needed that hold, since he was so
powerful. He gave me a demonstration of what he's capable of. A mammal, a
stallion.

"Now, here I come. Swallow. You need these juices, you know that? They will
make you live again. Here I cum..."  I felt his dick swelling. It flexed,
twitched deep inside my throat. I didn't really know what was going on. At
first I thought someone was forcing a hose inside my stomach. His jets were
never-ending, and again and again his dick flexed again, producing more
juices from deep inside his body. He worked up so much of his juices, that
I later on thought: well, it must be a hint, that my world must be rich, as
his juices were only my dissolved being. He cummed, and cummed and
cummed. And even when his penis didn't flex anymore, there were still more
juices cumming from his dick. His orgasm had already seized but he couldn't
stop pumping.

I guess, I passed out just then. Which is only too understandable. His
life-juice needed some time before it could bring me back to life. Through
my unconsciousness I could only here him whisper into my ears: "It's such a
shame this guy wouldn't let us alone. There's more, there's so much more.
But I'll be back. It's not that I only re-invented you, you re-invented me
as well, but you'll not believe it, you don't know it, yet. There's magic.
And I rely on this magic. We'll meet again. We are going to meet again, I
know. Baby, there's so much more. Take Care!"

When I came back to life he was gone. There was this other guy trying to
get inside of my jeans. I stood up and went out of the cinema. On my way
home, still digesting on his sperm-meal, through the silence of the night,
I heard his voice again, whispering into my ear: "Listen to your intuition,
baby. Just listen to it. Trust it. Trust your intuition. It's what it's all
about. There aren't many people out there who know about it. Our power is
to dive deep into ourselves...even in such a place as this messy
cinema. This is what's relevant. Relevant, do you hear me?"


End of Part I

To be continued.

Please let me know your thoughts about my story. E-mail me to:
lonesteen@topmail.de