Date: Wed, 30 Jun 2004 15:20:13 +0000
From: johnny smith <jstrapboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: NOT-MY-DOING

Copyright 2004. Non-exclusive rights granted to the Nifty Archive.

This story is pure fantasy. It relates a consensual sex act between an adult
male and a teenager who may or may not be legally of-age. You've been
warned. Comments are welcome: Email me at jstrapboy@hotmail.com


I mean, the way I see it, I really can't be held accountable. It all just
happened so...suddenly. I was, well, powerless, really, to prevent it.

OK, so I had my eye on the kid, but that doesn't mean anything. I've spent
three decades of my life surreptitiously enjoying the view of whatever young
turks happened past my crosshairs. That's what any healthy queer male
does, right? It ain't a crime to look, you know, and hey -- until today
anyway -- I had never touched. I mean, if I get really desperate, I might go
pick up a random college boy and fuck him silly, just to get the craving for
youth out of my system for awhile. But other than that necessary occasional
indulgence, I just don't mess around.

You see, I'm 38 now. I have a long-time partner close to my own age. We have
a great thing going, and I wouldn't fuck it up for anything.

But hey, what can I say? The sight of a really ripe, cocky high school jock
always has and always will give me a boner like nothing else in the world. I
didn't ask for it to be that way; it's just the way it is.

So anyway, back to today. It all happened at my gym. I was in the middle of
my second set of crunches when he walks in. Right off, I can just tell
there's something a little different about this one. I mean, besides being
drop-dead gorgeous, it's all about his body language. Although I doubt he's
a day over 16, the bastard clearly knows he is a killer, and he basks
unashamedly in the gaze of several other guys in addition to me as he sets
about his routine. He is dark and wiry, taut, lithe, sleekly muscled. He's
wearing a skimpy tank that reveals his sinewy arms and deep teen-boy pits
and hints provocatively at his defined chest and abs. Then there's his
beautiful V-shaped backside that culminates in a gloriously rounded, muscled
butt. And putting it all together is his face...hot damn! Piercing green
eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and full rosy lips forming a smirk that
seems to read,  "yeah, that's right, I'm God's gift. Care for a taste?"

Like I said, he is the center of my attention as well as any number of my
30- and 40-something compatriots who are plodding laboriously through their
after-work routines. But best as I could tell it's only me who gets the
looks returned.

So at first I'm thinking, well shit, could it be possible this arrogant
little prick has his sights set on a real man? Not many kids his age -- even
the gay ones -- notice that a guy my age is even in the room. I mean, I keep
myself in excellent shape, but hell, I'm fast exhausting my fourth decade on
earth. This twerp is only just starting along the downslope of decade number
two.

So I snap back to reality and think to myself, oh for chrissakes get real,
he's just a lousy punk ...not to mention likely jailbait. So I decide to hit
the showers and then head for home where I belong. I mean, someone is gonna
get a good fucking tonight, and it might as well be my dutiful better-half.

So there I am in a stall with the curtain pulled, soaping up and trying to
decide whether to uncork a fast one down the drain or maybe wait and give my
baby a double-dose of love juice a bit later in the evening. Now I admit the
memory of the kid's smirk was still rattling around in my brain and had
something to do with why I was even considering a shower stroke, but hey,
its all good in fantasy, right? Yeah, I mean, we're all entitled to those,
still, aren't we? As for any possibility of trying for the real thing, I had
already dismissed that notion out of hand.

And then suddenly my curtain is drawn back and there he is -- standing
before me in his birthday suit. He flashes me something between a smile and
a sneer, raises a quick finger to his lips, and steps smartly into the stall
with me. He snaps the curtain efficiently shut and turns to face me. Ummmm,
I think ponderously, wait, I don't remember asking for company. But when I
open my mouth, no sound comes out.

I mean, I guess I`m just too busy gawking at his bod to vocalize my
objections. Already hot enough in a tank and gym shorts to melt butter, he
is simply without equal naked. The chest is smooth and succulent and
defined, the abs taut.  A perfect little love trail leads down to a thick
black nest, and his prick (which for the first few moments of shared shower
was still soft), hangs happily down a good five inches between his hairy
varsity-boy legs, partially obscuring a stunning pair of oversized
low-hangers.

So then the little devil moves confidently right up next to me and reaches
directly for my stiffening pole. When I hesitate at first to return the
favor, he simply takes one of my hands with his free one and guides it over
to his own fast-growing member.

So damn, what could I do, I ask you? As hot a cock as I had ever seen is
resting weightily in my open palm without my having done a blessed thing to
put myself in that position. And damned if this perfect dick isn't attached
to the rest of my ultimate fantasy. By the time my fingers finally close
around it, it has leaped to a steely-like 8 inches and plumped up near as
thick as a coke can.

I'm floored at the kid's boldness. If he is so sure of what he wants, how in
hell can I argue? With both our cocks now throbbing in each other's hands,
some decisions need to be made. But as my mind starts to work through the
possibilities, my horny young toad is way ahead of me. His free hand goes up
to the back of my head, and he pushes my face down right into the exposed
nape of his shoulder.  He breathes out luxuriously but without a trace of
adolescent anxiety as I hungrily kiss and lick his succulent neck, then move
my open mouth out along his arm. As he lifts his bicep invitingly I
immediately take the hint, diving my hungry tongue right down into his ripe,
still sweaty armpit. He doesn't even flinch as I greedily lick him clean.

But then I notice that his hand is still applying downward pressure to the
back of my head. Hmmmm, I thought, this little bastard really is the limit.
But I easily give way to the pressure and allow him to steadily move me down
his torso, lingering for just a fraction of the time I might otherwise have
spent on his spectacularly erect and broad jock-boy nipples, his chiseled
smooth pecs, his mindblowing abs, his luscious loins. But he knows what he
wants and apparently he wants it pretty fast, so I give in to the continuous
pressure and soon find myself on my knees confronting the most glorious
man-boy cock I have ever seen, throbbing right in front of my eyes in full
raging teendom splendor and leaking like a washerless faucet.

So again I ask you, what choice do I have? Well, I'll tell you -- I have
none. I open wide and move forward.

As I take his magnificence deep into my throat, my hands run hungrily up his
body to further explore those areas from which my mouth has been prematurely
torn. His entire body seethes with the hormones of youthful lust. I am
helpless, completely under his spell.

So, you believe me, don't you? Choice doesn't even enter into the picture.

Well, I guess it shouldn't surprise me that my virile young pup has more
than a simple blowjob in mind. After five minutes or so of cocksucking
bliss, he pulls my head off of his engorged teen fuckstick and cups his hand
under my chin, indicating that I am to stand up. As soon as I rise he
unhesitatingly grabs my shoulders, whips me around, pushes my legs apart a
couple of feet and bends me over against the shower wall. He is so in
control I am barely aware of what is happening.

Moments later I feel his hand on my ass crack and soon he parts my orbs,
probing for my suddenly hungry anus with a fingerful of liquid soap that I
don't even notice him collect from the dispenser.

It's been years since I've been fucked, but I know immediately that I will
give myself completely to him. I mean, c'mon -- could anyone really do
otherwise?

He doesn't waste a lot of time loosening me up, quickly inserting one
finger, then a second. Then I feel the heat of his body move into mine as he
guides his fat cock right up to the opening of my tight, aching man chute. I
push back to meet him as he unflinchingly pops the head of his throbbing
tool past my tight ass ring. He waits about a five-count for me to relax,
and then he simply drives the entire slab of luscious boy-meat deep up into
my guts with a single forceful stroke.

I mean, what's left to tell? He proceeds to fuck me like a jackhammer with
deep, fast strokes, his balls slapping with loud wet "thwacks" against my
muscled cheeks with each forward thrust. In the few times I had been fucked
previously, the intensity caused me to lose my erection, but today, my prick
simply throbs more with the feel of his massive tool smoothly and
purposefully massaging my prostate. His body is a sublime force --
efficiently mechanistic and animalistic all at once.

I know neither of us will last long. I soon feel his cock begin to swell up
even more inside me, and his strokes quicken. Suddenly his hand reaches
around me and grabs my thick, dripping pole. He starts to beat me off with
strokes matching his own fuck pattern, and I feel both our orgasms
continuing to rise in our balls. Then he hisses in my ear the only words
that will be uttered through the entire encounter: "ahhh, hold it
babe...mmmmm, make it last." I feel him grind into me with one long last
thrust and then freeze his steely cock deep inside my ass, just as his hand
also gives my bone a last stroke and then clamps tight on the lower half of
my shaft. "Yeah baby hold it" he hisses,  "yeah hold it, hold it, uhnnnnnnn,
fuck, hold it, unnnhhhhhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUUCCCKKKK...
UNHHHHHHHHHHHH."

As I feel his enormous tool erupt like a volcano inside my bowels, my own
balls can resist no longer and my cock blasts forth with a series of thick
ropes of man jism that splatter with extraordinary force into the tile wall
in front of me. Thinking back I can only hope the pulsating water drowns out
most of the grunting and moaning as we both shoot our huge wads and then
recover, panting like rabid dogs, from our furious fuck. My cocky young
conquerer stays inside me for a full minute as we struggle to get control of
our heart rates back. Then he quietly pulls out of me, reaches forward to
give the hair on my head an affectionate tousle (can you believe the utter
cockiness of this punk?), and is gone, as suddenly as he had arrived.

So, there you have it. Like I said, none of it was my doing. I mean, no one
can blame me once they hear all the facts. Right?

THE END

Please write me at jstrapboy@hotmail.com and let me know what you think of
this story.