Date: Sun, 07 Aug 2011 10:18:50 +0000 From: Jon Kent <jonkent@post.com> Subject: OSCAR MY LOVE Part 8 Gay Male Youth Adult DISCLAIMER Everyone should accept the laws of his country, reserving the right to strive democratically to change those he disagrees with. Therefore, if the laws where you live say that you should NOT be reading stories like these, you are legally obliged to leave now and read no further. It does not matter if these stories are fiction, made-up, only written to entertain, instruct, engage, and inform. If for any reason, the law where you live says you are NOT allowed to read them, you have to go. So off you go. Live a healthy and happy life, and come back, if you want to, when your laws say. And remember: these are only stories. They are made-up. They did not happen. And the writer does not believe they should happen. The first responsibility of adults is to protect children and their innocence. It doesn't mean some adults won't enjoy reading stories like this, but it doesn't mean they should go out and do things like this. Who knows? maybe reading stories like this will actually stop them going out and doing these things. Part 8 "Lift your bum, Evan. I want to see it going all the way in and all the way out." I feel rather than see my cock sliding out of Evan's anus because the only thing I can see is Charlie's belly button, and only that for a moment as Charlie pushes himnself back into my mouth, my throat, and continues to face-fuck me aggressively. Charlie may only have three inches but his cock is thicker than those of the other boys, and I can feel my lips slip and slide along his shaft. "Wow, Evan, doesn't that hurt?" Oscar's voice is enthusiastic rather than solicitous. "You're sitting right down on Uncle Tom's hairs when it's all the way in." "Yeh, it hurts," says Evan, and his voice is so tiny I remember just how young he is. "But... ooof! - when you get used to it, it feels good. Is it really stretching me now?! "You bet," says Oscar. "Your hole is like an elastic band stretched round a... a..." The boy struggles to find an apt comparison. "...stick of Brighton rock," he adds triumphantly. "Lift up again. I want a close-up of about six inches so you can see the start of his knob." It's a little discomforting to hear Oscar discussing me in the third person, but he's the director as well as camera boy so I guess he is being professional. To tell the truth, I haven't much time for discomfort as sensations rush through me, I manoeuvre Charlie up and forward until my face is fixed between his wide-spread buttocks. Being on the skinny side, Charlie is easier to shift than the others, and he is co-operative though he could be cleaner down here. I feel his fingers wrapping my hair round his dick as he wanks happily away. I use my thumbs to loosen his sphincter muscles, prise open his hole before pushing my tongue inside as far as I can. I don't care what these juices are; they are a a boy's juices and I want as much as I can get. Why do I enjoy licking - rimming - a boy's hole so much? Not so long ago I would have thought the practice - analingus - pointless if not disgusting. Now I can't get enough of it. Oddly enough, I'm not that keen on being rimmed, but offer me any reasonably attractive boy and I'll happily rim him all night long - and all day, too, if he isn't at school. Men? They don't attract me, but then men have never attracted me, though there may be aesthetics involved here. A boy's anus can reasonably be described as a rosebud... or a little mouth waiting to be kissed, licked, sucked, worshipped. And, of course, there is the pleasure of introducing a boy to sexual pleasure he'd never suspected existed. Analingus feels erotic for the same reason that anal play in general is arousing. The anus and surrounding tissue are richly endowed with nerves highly sensitive to erotic touch, which is grand for the receiver, perhaps less so for the giver. Rimming is a way, I guess, for the rimmer to say, "I love all of you. There's no part of you that I don't want to have. In turn, it's a way for the boy being rimmed to say I trust you, you know what you're doing, so there's no part of me you can't have. This is true for boy lovers. Boy lovers don't simply love their boy-of-the-moment; they worship them; if they could, they would devour them, swallow them whole, and keep them forever. Of course, if the futile silliness of worship can give way to genuine love, the man will put the boy's needs first, even if the boy's gain involves the man's loss. All of which wasn't particularly relevant as Oscar directed Charlie to sit facing the other way while continuing to grind his hole against my lips, for which I was duly grateful. "Now, Charlie," instructs Oscar, "start jerking Evan off... but don't let him cum... and if you can, lean over and kiss his dick. No! Don't suck it. Just kiss it lots and lots. I'm gonna walk round and take shots - they're called 'establishing' shots, so that everyone can see exactly what's going on." (pause) "And, Uncle Tom, raise Charlie up and down a couple of times so we can see your tongue licking his actual hole." (pause) "It'll look like Charlie's gonna take a shit," (collective giggle) "but don't worry, he's not gonna do that... in this movie." When had Oscar fallen in love with making movies? His interest had become an obsession. I'm inclided to thinkm it's when we watched 'Wild Tigers I Have Known' together. For the first time, Oscar realised you could tell people what to do, they would do it, you could record it, and what you did could be beautiful. In making his 'porno' movies, Oscar was not simply interested in the sex, nor the feelings of power it gave him. He was genuinely interested in the aesthetics of the images he captured, though he didn't yet have the conceptual capacity to desdcibe what he was doing in these terms. But he would capture trickles of sweat running down a boy's back, the expressions on a boy's face as he came, the blush that ran from my chest to my neck... even the whorls of hair that ran round my arsehole, for Chrissake! I'd bought a Sony HDRCX115EB High Definition Handycam Camcorder, and we'd agreed that, for the record, it belonged to me, thouugh in reality Oscar was the proud owner. It wasn't terrible expensive, but I'd made a point of not spoiling the boy, and as far as Amy was concerned I was encouraging her son in a new hobby. To tell the truth, Oscar quickly outstripped me in using the camera, and the 101 magical tricks it could perform. I'm not here to sell the CX115 to you (LOL) and will only mention if you connect your camcorder directly to an HD Ready TV you can view your video in spectacular HD on the big screen. Oscar's bumhole, beautiful in real life, was positively ethereal in High Definition on a 42" screen! What next - 3D?! "Turn round again," instructs Oscar. Charlie duly obliges and sticks his hard-on back in my throat. "Evan, ride Uncle Tom faster... but, Uncle Tom, tell me when you're gonna shoot. Then you pull it out... but don't shoot till I take a shot of Evan's hole wide open. Then, when I tell you, shoot your cum right on Evan's hole." (pause to plan) "Then suck Charlie faster and faster. But don't cum in his mouth, Charlie. When you're gonna cum, tell me, so I can get a big close-up of the cum shotting right out of your pee-hole and into his mouth. And fire some on his face as well. That should do it." Oscar completes his movie by having the boys slide up my body to lick the cum off my face before snuggling down like contented kittens in my arms. His closing shot is Evan's bumhole, breathing as my cum trickles from it. Plastered across the shot is a stolen: That's All Folks. Was I insane? Not one, but three prepubescent boys performing sex acts that would make a bishop blush. Yes, I was insane - insane in the way that alcoholic or a junkie is insane. I knew that the dangers were; I knew the risks; I now the consequences of discovery would be catastrophic? Why then? Oh, why? Take the last drink, take the last fix, then run, run like Hell. But I couldn't. Not quite yet. Not quite now. (to be continued)