Date: Thu, 28 May 2009 23:32:03 +1200 From: Robert Hanlen <strayf.hanlen@gmail.com> Subject: Small Town The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental. If male-to-male sexual scenes offend you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years old, the laws in most areas state that you're just too young to read filth like this. Stray strayf.hanlen@gmail.com ****************************************************** I'd just turned 16 when my parents divorced. While they sorted out their shit I was shipped off to live with my grandparents. This was the summer of '78 - y'know, real ancient history. Nan and Pop lived in a small town called Waiporati in the middle of Nowhere, Dullsville. I was determined I was gonna hate the whole experience and spent the first week moping around the house with typical pain-in-the-ass negative teenage attitude. "So," said Nan one morning, "what do you have planned for today?" "Nothin'," I replied, moodily. "Why don't you get yourself into town?" asked Nan, drying the breakfast dishes. "You might try starting to make some new friends." Mention of friends made me feel even more miserable. I missed my friends back in Auckland. Especially Gary ... And thinking of Gary just made my dick twitch. "Okay, Nan," I sighed. "I'll go have a nose around in town ..." "And y'might think about getting a haircut while you're there," she snapped. "Don't know why you have it so dang long." "Aw, Nan," I replied, "all the kids have long hair." "And if all the kids decided to jump off ... where are you going?" "Into town," I moaned, letting the screen door slap shut behind me. "I'll go hang out at the ol' barber shop ..." *********** 'Town' was pretty much two intersecting streets with a lackluster collection of shops: 'Hill's Books, Stationery and Gifts', 'The Waiporati Cafeteria', 'Jenkins Hardware' ... The most exciting spot was the fish-and-chip shop that boasted a coin-operated video game - 'Pong'. I, however, was used to the sophistication of the latest craze to hit Auckland - 'Space Invaders'. Besides, the fish-and-chip shop didn't open until midday and it was only 9.30 ... I decided that what I really wanted to do was get a packet of fags and go and find a quiet spot by the river for a smoke and a wank. Mrs Maltby was bound to tell Nan if I bought a packet of Camels from 'Maltby's Dairy' so I headed for 'Boyes' Tobacconist and Barber Shop' instead. Mr Boyes was sitting in one of the barber chairs, reading a magazine, when I entered but he got up as the bell on the door rang. He grinned at me and winked. "What can I do you for?" he asked. I gulped and caught myself staring. This wasn't the Mr Boyes that used to give me a lollipop to shut me up as a kid while he cut Pop's hair. Mr Boyes was a gruff bald old bastard with a wicked comb-over and thick horn-rimmed specs. This guy was tall, swarthy, with powerful shoulders, a strong, chiseled jaw and thick black wavy hair, cut just like John Travolta's from 'Saturday Night Fever'. The short-sleeved, light blue nylon barber's smock he wore was unbuttoned at the neck revealing a hint of black curls on his broad, tanned chest. He was fucking hot! I felt my dick harden... A quick purchase of fags was now out of the question; I wanted to linger. "I ... um ... need a haircut!" I blurted. "Sure," he replied with a six million dollar grin. "Take a seat. What's your name?" "Steve," I replied, hoisting myself into a chair. "What happened to Mr Boyes?" "You mean my grandfather, I guess," he replied, wrapping a cloth around my neck and securing a cape around me. "He died of a heart attack last year and left the business to my dad who gave it me. That makes me the new Mr Boyes - but my friends call me Roger. Y'wanna magazine to read?" He tossed me the magazine that he'd been reading previously - a well thumbed copy of Playboy. It fell open on a page with a blonde chick with her legs spread and a well-hung stud standing astride her head. "Sweet, huh?" chuckled Roger. "Now, what about this hair?" he asked, pulling at my locks, running his fingers through my long blond curly hair. "It's kinda messy Kris Kristofferson at the moment ... You heading for Lee Majors or a blond Donny Osmond?" "I dunno," I said, still gawping at the Playboy magazine. "Just tidied up a bit, I guess ..." "Thank God for that," he chuckled, reaching for comb and scissors. "Be a shame to lose these luscious locks ... You okay with that magazine? Only I could get you a Donald Duck comic or something ..." "No," I said blushing furiously, "it's fine." "Well, you might wanna hide your hard-on ... I might have other customers coming in." I glanced down and saw that my rock-hard dick was trying to escape out of the leg of my shorts. I hurriedly rearranged the cape so that it covered things. "Don't worry about it," chuckled Roger, combing out my hair and attacking it with the scissors. "Those fuckin' mags make me horny too." As if to prove a point he leaned across me, pressing his crotch against my arm - it was an impressive package... "Check out page 48," he suggested. Page 48 featured another blonde bimbette, this one with a feather boa and two muscular studs with enormous hard-ons. I groaned silently and groped my dick under the cape. "Hot, huh?" said Roger, bringing his face close to mine. I locked my eyes on to his and gulped. "Sure is," I said. "Fucking hot ..." He whipped off my cape, brushed the loose hair off my neck and removed the cloth. "All done," he announced. "Wanna cool down with a coupla Cokes out the back? On the house ..." "Sound's great," I replied. He hurried to lock the front door, close all the blinds and put up the 'Closed' sign, then I followed him into the cramped back room. It was lined with shelves containing cartons of stock, fresh towels, account books ... But in the center of it all was an ancient metal-framed barber chair, its back down and with well-worn leather padding. Roger wasted no time and pulled me to him, his large hands squeezing my ass cheeks. "Ooooh, yeah," he crooned. "Hot boy buns - my favourite kind!" I could feel his thick slab of manmeat pressing against my stomach as he eased my shorts and underwear down, releasing my own throbbing dick. He wrapped a huge paw around my drooling cock and chuckled. "Ooooh," he murmured, "little Stevie seems to like this. His boy-cock is rock-hard and nearly ready to burst ... But little Stevie's gonna havta wait till Mr Boyes is ready ..." With that he picked me up and sat me on the foot of the extended barber chair, my legs straddled either side and my drooling dick fully exposed. I was grinning like a fool, my heart pumping like crazy in delight and expectation. I wrapped my fist around my desperate dick and started to stroke but Mr Boyes slapped it away. "Uh, uh," he said in mocking reprimand. "Little Stevie doesn't get to touch his little dick until Mr Boyes says so .... Just place your naughty hands on the chair behind you, lean back and wait." Mr Boyes kicked off his shoes then slowly unclasped the domes of his barber's coat, gradually revealing the full glory of his broad, muscular chest, his rippled abs, all covered in a wonderful mat of thick black curls. All I wanted to do was gape at this studly creature and pump my dick furiously - but Mr Boyes had given me my orders. Next he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, slowly revealing his thick black pubic patch, his huge, fat uncut schlong and wonderful, loose-hanging goose-egg balls. As he worked his way completely free of his trousers I found myself drooling - honest-to-fucking-God actually drooling! Mr Boyes noticed this and grinned. "What?" he asked mockingly. "Is Stevie-boy hungry? Huh? Stevie-boy want something t'eat? Huh?" I was mesmerised by this huge, muscular stud-god - and particularly his huge, pulsating god-cock. "Oh, fuck, yeah," I blathered. "I gotta eat, Mr Boyes ... please ..." Mr Boyes grinned and stepped towards me. And I ate. I slobbered all over his cock, sucking, licking, swallowing, groaning at my own frustration not to be able to swallow it all. Mr Boyes just laughed, grabbed the back of my skull and rammed his dick down my throat till his balls smashed against my chin, causing my to gag, splutter, and bring up more phlegm to make his journey even smoother as he pounded that enormous fucker down my slut throat over and over again. Suddenly he withdrew leaving me gasping for more, tears streaming down my face and drool running down my chin. He grabbed my ankles and shoved me down on my back with my knees down around my ears. "Daddy Boyes' time to eat," he laughed as he plunged his face into my tender boyhole. Damn! but his tongue felt good! He tickled and slathered his way around my hole then wormed his tongue way deep up inside me. I'd never felt anything that good and I groaned in pleasure, bearing down and opening up my hole the way I did for Gary when he was fucking me. Mr Boyes tore his face out of my ass crack and leared at me. "Now that's a hungry boy-cunt," he said, lining up his spit-slimed dick with my soggy hole. "You ready to be fucked, Stevie-boy?" "Fuck, yes, Mr Boyes!" I yelled. "But go easy 'cos I've only been fucked ....." I never did get to finish that sentence before I saw stars and heard myself screaming as Mr Boyes plunged his fat dick into me up to the hilt. "Yeah, Stevie-boy," crooned Mr Boyes as he slowly withdrew his dick until just the fat mushroom head lay inside me. "That's what a real man-dick feels like!" He plunged back inside of me and held himself there, buried to the hilt. I gasped, groaned and adored the sensations of pain and pleasure. Gary had fucked me four, maybe five times but in two thrusts this Man was creating more sensations inside of me than I ever dreamed possible. I pushed my arse back towards Mr Boyes and scratched my cheeks on his coarse pubic patch, savouring every rock-hard pulsating inch. "Aaw, fuck ..." I groaned. "Yeah?" asked Mr Boyes. "Y'like that, Stevie-boy? Y'like my fat cock stretching your little boy hole? Huh? C'mon, tell me how y'like it ... Let me know how much y'want it ..." "Aaww, yeah!" I moaned. "Fuck me, Mr Boyes! Slam that fat dick into me! Feed me with cock! Split me open! Fuckin' breed me! I need it, Mr Boyes! Fuck me! Please! Fuck me!" Mr Boyes withdrew his cock, leaving me feeling empty, gaping and desperate for more, his cock-head pressing gently against my hungry boy-hole. "Well, he cooed, " since you asked so nicely ..." And he slammed back into me - over and over he pummeled into my ass, screwing me, fucking me, raping my boy hole. I yelled, I cried, I whooped as new sensations drenched my ass, my body, my brain. The pain gave way into pleasure that no person should ever have a right to experience - so wrong, so nasty, so powerful ... and yet so fucking gooood!! "Oh, shshit ..." hissed Mr Boyes. 'Fuck! I'm cumming! Fuck, yeah, you little bitch! I'm fucking cumming! CUMMING!!" He slammed his cock deep in my arse and I felt it expand, pulse as he blasted my guts with his hot man-juice. At the same time, almost without realising, I shot my load, never even touching my dick, blasting load after load clear over my head and splattering on to the cartons behind me. As I came down from my orgasmic high I opened my eyes to see Mr Boyes looming above me, sweat dripping from his face on to mine. "Clean me up, pig boy ..." he sneered. He stood upright and, grabbing my head again, plunged his still-hard cock down my throat. As an obedient pig, I laboured to suck his God-cock clean of my ass juices, shit and his God-spunk. Eventually he withdrew his dick from my eager mouth and cradled me in his strong arms. "Welcome to Waiporati," he murmured, as I sucked on his meaty left nipple. "If you're up to it, I hear that Mr Jenkins needs a new stock-boy for the hardware store. And Mr Hill is always after a new delivery boy ... I have a feeling you're gonna be needed by a lot of men in this town, Stevie-boy ...." *************** "Stevie," said Nan when I got back home. "Your mother called while you were out. She and your dad are patching things up and she says it's fine if you wanna go back home." "If it's all the same with you, Nan," I replied, "I'd rather stay here awhile. Mum and Dad need some time and ... well ..." I clenched my ass muscles, trying not to lose a drop of the five loads of cum locked in there. "Well... I kinda like it here." *************************************************************** Copyright 2009 - Stray Strayf.hanlen@gmail.com All rights reserved Permission is NOT granted to publish this story in any medium without the author's prior consent.