Date: Fri, 10 Apr 1998 08:05:35 GMT
From: dreddy@hooked.com (Dave.)
Subject: Haight Street Humpers (TTTmm/M, oral, anal, nc?)

Hi all,

Someone posted a request for teens dominating a man, suggesting it might be
a nice change of pace from the way they're usually written (MM/t). I agreed
with him and wrote this. The story is broken into two parts to make my news
reader happy -- be sure to get the second part! It's my first posting, so 
please be gentle!

Dave.

-----------

WARNING - "Danger, Wil Robinson, there is adult content for which you are
too
           young! That goes for you, too, Penny!" If you are under legal
           consensual age in your country/state/municipality or have a problem
           sex, especially gay sex, or light bondage, or you are unfortunate
           enough to live where such graphic depictions are illegal, then find
           something else to read, because this isn't for you.

-----------


Haight Street Humpers (part 1 of 2)
by Dave.

When I got to San Francisco I hardly knew anyone, much less someone to
buy pot from. One day, I decided that the center of the Summer of Love
and other counter-culture movements would be a good place to start. What
I found when I arrived in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood was a bunch of
cute, straight street kids selling good bud.

As I said, just about all the lads are straight, or so I thought; they
had girlfriends. One guy, Mike, was really cute and I'd bought from him
a few times in the hopes he might be bi, or at least be open to my
blowing him. I figured I had a hope since his bags were usually a little
light, which I'd told him once. The next time out, I decided to rent a
van, just in case, and then added a weekend camping trip. As I'd hoped,
Mike spotted me from a distance and made sure he was there to meet me
before anyone else. We walked down the block and he was ready to deal.
"Well Mike, I don't know," I paused for effect, "like I told you before,
I can get bigger bags for the same from most anyone else...," I trailed
off.

"Why d'ya keep buyin' from me, then?" Mike was annoyed, partly because I
was right and partly because he hated being called on it. "Because
you're cute as hell and I'd love to get naked with you."

Surprisingly, Mike wasn't phased at all, "Would that make it worth the
price?" "Almost," I replied with equal cool, fighting to hide my
elation. "Too bad you don't have a car, man..." Mike shot back, with a
smirk, handing me the joint he'd just lit. "Actually, I've got one
today, it's just down there," I gestured to the mini-van with tinted
windows down the street -- now I had the smirk of a man who'd just
called another's bluff. I expected hesitation, but he didn't skip a step
as he changed course, heading for the van. Without exchanging another
word we passed the joint back and forth, then hopped in the van and
climbed in back. Mike surprised me by taking his shirt off as he sat
down in the seat. His body was beautiful; slender, defined, sinewy,
healthy and pale white. He was about 5'10", 145#, brown hair, hazel eyes
and slightly Hispanic looking with angular features -- a real dream!

Again, Mike surprised me by unbuttoning my jeans as I removed my shirt.
By the time I sat down, I was in my underwear, boner straining at the
flannel of my boxers. This really seemed to turn him on, because when I
lowered his baggy skater jeans the band of his jockeys was soaked with
precum where his cock was straining to escape, the head peeking out. His
mouth clamped down on my dick through my boxers as I my hand slipped
under the band of his shorts to carress his engorged member, his
trousers already removed. Mike was going wild on my cock and I thought I
might cum just from that when he stopped, raised his face up to my mine,
brushing our lips together, then whispering in my ear, "is there
anything I should know about before we go on?" "No, I've tested
negative, don't sleep around much and I'm careful when I do...and you?"
"Same here, and I don't use needles, or anything, either." He had seemed
healthy and free from hard drugs, but it was a relief anyway. We would
still be careful and protect ourselves, but we could enjoy it more now.

Our lips met tenderly and then exploded with passion. Our tongues danced
and darted, exploring and playfully wrestling in the warmth of our
mouths. I slid my tongue across his face tracing a path to his ear where
I paused to nibble, then down his neck to his chest. I licked, sucked,
nibbled and kissed his nipples before continuing down across his firm
stomach to the patch of hair surrounding the protrusion from his shorts.
I licked around his penis without touching it, breathing warmth onto it
instead, as I traced his groin, leaving a wet trail in the cotton of his
white briefs (which confirmed my supicions; this was not a street urchin
but a suburban poseur). As I traced up the left side of his cock for the
second time, I bit down on the tube before me, causing him to jump a
little. I used the slight arch he'd made to slip his underwear down to
his knees as my mouth enveloped the head of his slim uncut 7" and
swallowed him to the base with one swift motion.

Mike melted in the seat as I held my breath and kept him deep in my
throat, using my swallowing reflex to massage his dick. Once his initial
waves of pleasure subsided, I began to bob my head up and down his
shaft, pulling off briefly to catch my breath before going down again.
His hips began thrusting in time with my sucking. I could tell he was
getting close so I started to slow my pace, but he grabbed my head and
started fucking faster until he pulled me off and finished with a couple
strokes from his hand. He shook as his cock spewed wad after wad of cum
across his chest and stomach. I tasted a pearly drop with my tongue and
had to fight the urge to lap up all the sweet goo.

After a moment, he smeared the cum around his body, then dropped down
and started sucking my cock. I could tell he enjoyed the feel of my cock
deep in his throat, for his dick stayed hard. It wasn't the best blow
job I'd gotten, but it was clear that this wasn't the first one he'd
given, either. The sight of this slender lad sucking my dick with a
passion coupled with his eager technique, brought me to the edge
quickly. Sensing my impending orgasm, Mike went deep one last time
before pulling off and sucking my balls into his mouth and finishing me
off with his hand. I trembled as my cum splattered all over my body. A
large glob hit him on the face next to the left corner of his lip. His
tongue popped out and tasted it, then he brought his face to mine and
offered my cum to me. I licked it off, savoring it in my mouth before
locking in a long, deep kiss.

We smoked another joint, did the deal, and talked for a bit before he
got out. I'd asked him if he wanted to join me on my camping trip the
next day, but he wasn't sure. He said to swing by Haight Street, "right
here would be fine," at around 10am and he'd let me know then. He asked
where we would be going and I told him I hadn't decided yet. He told me
he might have some suggestions, even if he didn't come with me.


Haight Street Humpers, continued (part 2 of 2)
by Dave.

I was a little nervous about the trip. While I had thought about it
before-hand, I hadn't decided to invite him until it came out of my
mouth. He was cute and probably cool and safe, but I hardly knew him. At
the same time, I was tremendously excited. Had I not been busy with last
minute preparations and trying to figure out where to go, that night
would have seemed an eternity. I arrived a few minutes after ten and
Mike was standing by the curb with a bag and, amazingly, the same space
was available. This was amazing because; 1.parking in SF is a nightmare,
and 2.this was an incredible spot to park for sex (or anything illicit);
there were several large trees with hanging branches and blossoms
covering the van from one side and over the top of the other side, while
a hedge and low wall blocked pedestrians from crossing for one car
length on each side providing access only to that space.

Mike used his bag to motion for me to unlock the side door, which I did
with the click of a button as I slid into the space. I looked around
when I heard the door slide open and the passenger door open
simultaneously. I was startled to see a handful of shaggy waifs and
street urchins rush into the back of the van as Mike slid in the front.
Looking at Mike but addressing all of the mostly familiar faces, I
asked, "What's going on?" I was torn between thoughts of fantasy and
terror, feeling a bit uneasy. "Just some friends, can we give them a
ride across town on our way?" Mike responded, deflating my apprehension
instantly. "Sure, where to?" "Well," spoke up a lad in the back, "like,
which way were you headed?" I began to feel uneasy again, I told them
about a campground I'd been thinking about in the Sierras. "Do you have
reservations?" another asked. "Do I need them?" I really hadn't thought
about it, having recently moved here from Wyoming where everyone could
go camping at the same time and still never see another soul. They all
laughed, stopping occassionally to catch their breath before laughing
some more.

Mike suggested driving north a few hours, suggesting there might be a
better chance up there. Others disagreed and made their own suggestions.
Finally, Steve, a slim, blue-eyed, long-haired blonde (about 6'2" &
140#) said he had a friend taking care of a bitchin' place down the
coast a couple hours. "It's got a beach, pool, jacuzi, everything!" I
was skeptical, but didn't know what to say. Everyone seemed to think it
was a good idea and I got the feeling I was going to be giving them a
ride then going on to find a place to camp -- hoping Mike would join me
instead of them. All five boys were really hot, but a couple seemed
rough, possibly dangerous and not known to me, but things were relaxed,
so I drove down Highway One with a full van. Did I mention they were all
hot!? Well, they also seemed very straight and I didn't sense any sort
of sexual tension; they were just a merry band of adventurers taking
advantage of a stranger's offer.

The car was full of lively banter and eventually everyone was
introduced. In addition to me, Mike and Steve, were: Joe, a dark
complected stud with deep green eyes, short auburn hair, several tattoos
& piercings, and a muscular build (about 5'11" & a solid 165#); Simon
the black youth had dred-locks, a stern air about him, and stunning
medium-dark skin covering his wiry frame (about 5'8", 130#); and, a
quiet, typically slim & compact Asian lad they all called Kato (which he
seemed to like), his hair parted in the center and eyes as dark as coal.
The boys looked to be between 17 and 20, somewhat dirty and slightly
smelly, though not as odorous as their appearance predicted.

As the road straightened out from a curve, Joe said/commanded, "turn off
here. I've gotta' take a leak." Everyone braced for the maneuver as I
leaned on the brakes, then eased up and made a sharp turn off the
highway. The asphalt barely lasted long enough for me to slow to a safe
speed before we hit the gravel with a bump. The trail wound down to a
parking lot a hundred feet from the beach. I parked next to the toilet
and everyone took turns pissing. I was last and remained in the toilet
for a moment while I stocked my semi-stiff cock thinking of them in here
pissing before me. When I got out, they were all hanging around the van
smoking cigarettes. They had found the cooler full of food, beer, wine
and scotch, having already helped themselves to its contents. I didn't
really mind, I was going to offer them some anyway, but it annoyed me
that they hadn't even asked, so I said just that. Mike apologized and
drew me towards him where he leaned by the open side door, offering me a
joint.

As I leaned forward to reach for the joint, Joe, who was behind me,
said, "don't apologize to this fuckin' faggot," then pushed me into the
van. Mike guided me in, preventing me getting hurt, but was definitely
in on the plan. Within seconds, they had me on the floor and the door
closed. Joe wheeled the van out of the lot and back onto the highway
with a screech, as the others finished binding my ankles and wrists with
leather straps. My mouth was gagged and then my eyes covered. It had all
happened so fast that I was too stunned to immediately comprehend what
was happening, let alone protest or resist.

What the fuck was happening? My mind raced, jumping between how to
escape and what had happened and how stupid I'd been. Though no one had
been truly menacing and no great force had been used on me, the
disturbing image of a switch-blade being flicked during the brief
struggle kept flashing in my head. Every time I saw it, my mind returned
to the challenge of escape.

They had me on the floor behind the driver's seat and were pinning me
down with their feet. They talked and laughed as if I wasn't there. I
could hear them opening beers and throwing empties in the back. After a
while conversation turned to how they needed to pee and childish pleas
of "how much longer" comforted me. Then I felt the gag loosen and a tube
was stuck in my mouth -- the thought of drinking urine had never
appealed to me, but I figured if I had to in order to survive and escape
later, I would. The first drops stung and had a pungent odor, I spit it
out and they all laughed. I could feel the van swerving and deduced that
Joe was looking back, too. Before I could identify the strangely
familiar taste, the tube was shoved further in as the full flow began --
I had to gulp it down or choke. When the flow stopped a few seconds
later, I realized it was a couple shots of the Laphroig scotch I'd
brought along. Another couple shots were followed by several sloshes of
Fosters, then the tube was removed.

They left the gag loose, so I mumbled, "what are you going to do?" Again
the boys erupted with laughter. "Well?" I pressed. "Yeah, Joe, what
should we do with *this* faggot?" asked Simon in a menacing tone. "What
else? What every faggot deserves," Joe replied and everyone laughed
again. "Put him further back and cover him with a blanket or
something...oh, and get his wallet," directed Joe. As they moved me
back, I the gag tightened and I barely felt the light touch of a skilled
hand quickly retrieve my wallet. The van pulled off the highway to the
left and then turned right, finally pulling into what I assumed to be a
space in the alley. I heard the unmistakable metallic sound of a
switch-blade flicking open as Simon lifted my blind-fold to show me the
blade. "What's the number," he waved my ATM card in front of me. "Seven
two five one, but there's not much in there...I spent most of it on this
trip..." The blind-fold was replaced and the knife closed. The door
opened, a boy got out, and it closed again. A few minutes later, the boy
returned. "Looks like the queer was right, he only had a couple hundred
in there," was that Kato? "There's some money available on my Visa
card...if I give you the number, will you let me go...?" I mumbled.
"What's that, corn-hole?" Simon tugged roughly loosening the gag. I
repeated my offer and they busted out laughing again. "How about this,
you give us the number and we'll think about it." I gave them the number
and again the door opened, a boy left, it closed and he returned. "This
is one broke muther-fuckin' faggot," Kato said, "he's only got a hundred
available!" They seemed more amused than anything, but I was a little
concerned; "didn't I have a *few* hundred in the bank *and* on my
Visa?," I wondered.

Again, a door opened, "you get it all Mike?" "Sure did, Joe." The van
backed up and returned to the highway, turning off again a short
distance later. I could feel the van slow and pull into a driveway. I
could hear the sound of a garage door opening before the vehicle crept
forward. The garage door clunked shut before they opened the doors and
pulled me out, half dragging, half carrying me up the steps and into the
house. It was dark inside and I was thrown into a corner, gag and
blind-fold still in place. I could see a little more light now as
someone opened a sliding door. I couldn't tell what they were doing, but
it involved clanking, swearing and some bickering. I was not laying on
concrete, but it was rough. I shifted my position and caught a splinter.

I was starting to chuckle at the thought of being abducted by the
Keystone Kidnapers when I was yanked from the floor and thrown face down
on a cold lawn chair. "Think this is funny, homo?" was Steve's taunt.
Again, warm hands caught my face, preventing injury, as my chest slammed
down onto the lounge. What *is* going on, I wondered. My still-tied
hands had been looped around the chaise and I was being held down from
the waist up as someone with cold hands undid my jeans and underwear,
pulling them down. Someone sat on my butt and held me down as they undid
the ankle-strap to fully remove my pants. My ankles were then tied to
the sides of the chair, spreading my ass cheeks a little. Next they tore
off my t-shirt and tied my shoulders to the frame. Once I was securely
fastened in a humped over position, they flipped it over so I was
resting on my back against the cold floor, the chair's legs poking up in
the air. The sound of steel flying away from protective sheathing rang
again and I felt cold steel against my groin. I tensed and it
disappeared only to reappear on the other side before disappearing
again. The lounge was again flipped over, picked up and set to rest on
something.

"We're going to take your gag off, but only if you keep quiet. There's
no one else around, so even if you screamed your faggot head off it
wouldn't do any good. The reason we don't want you to yell is that it's
totally annoying and it pisses Joe off . . . You don't want to piss Joe
off, 'kay?" Mike explained. I grunted my agreement and he removed the
gag. "So what the fuck is going on, Mike?" I demanded angrily. "They saw
what happened earlier and thought you'd forced me. I explained, but..."
"What's going to happen? Didn't they..." "I don't know. Just go with the
flow and you might be alright..." "*Might* be alright? What the fuck..."
Mike slapped me, "shut the fuck up! Don't piss Joe off." "What about the
blind-fold?" I asked. "It stays on. There's a glass of scotch and a can
of beer in front of you -- find the straws with your mouth. Shut up.
Drink. It'll make it easier. And don't try to wiggle loose, you'll rock
the chaise off the saw-horses and then you'll be fucked up, 'cause I
won't be here to catch you."

I heard his steps as he walked out of the room. I lay still for a
moment, listening for any sounds I could hear. At a distance I heard the
ocean lapping at the beach and, further still, the quiet hum of traffic
on the highway. Closer was the sound of running water, a shower maybe?
Closer still, I heard muffled conversation, and, was that giggling?
Satisfied that I was indeed alone, I concentrated on smell. Aside from
the scent of pine coming from the plywood I had been laying on, I could
smell the musty concrete. Wiggling my nose, ears and every other muscle
I could find on my head, I managed to shift the blind enough to see
sawdust on the floor. A little more movement and I could see Mike had
not lied; the chair was sitting on four wobbly saw-horses. I sipped some
scotch, then some more. I decided to relax a little, yet try to keep my
wits about me. I still had no hope of escape and figured a little
cooperation might buy me a chance later on -- I sure as hell wasn't in
any position to get away right then. Besides, they hadn't hurt me at all
so far. After an eternity, I heard voices approaching; it was Joe, Steve
and Simon. I could feel them standing nearby as they silently assessed
me. I could hear their breathing. Then I thought I could feel the heat
of their bodies next to my naked flesh.

They remained silent for a couple minutes before I felt a strap pulled
around my waist, binding me to the chair in yet another place. Then the
chair was lifted and tilted so it was side-ways and they were carrying
it and me like a folding table with its legs withdrawn. We moved a few
feet, then the front drooped, the light got brighter and a door slid
open. The front picked up again and we went outside. I could make out
bushes and concrete and tile, but only in bits. The chair was set down
and once again, I was facing the ground. With one swift motion, the
blind-fold was removed and my eyes were blinded by the light. When they
recovered, I could see I was by a swimming pool in a court-yard. I could
look around enough to see the chaise lounge was once again raised off
the ground, this time by cinder blocks and much steadier. As I looked
around I felt the sting of hot water from a hose hit my back, washing
all over my body. Soap was added, lathered and rinsed off with the now
cold water flowing from the hose. The gentle breeze brought goose-bumps
to my skin but the sun kept me from actually getting cold. Again, the
boys just stood there looking at me, though just beyond my field of
vision. As with the entire day, I smelled weed in the air, with an
occasional puff blown into my face.

Kato and Mike were having an animated conversation which abruptly
stopped as they emerged onto the patio. Mike stepped out in front of me;
he was completely naked, cock pointing at the sky. Moving forward, he
slapped me with his long slim dick. Then Kato appeared next to him, also
naked, and slapped my face with his delicious 6" of hard bronze. He then
shoved it into my mouth, forcing the big head past my teeth and down my
throat and started pumping my mouth hard. As he seemed ready to burst,
he pulled back and Steve shoved his seven inches down my waiting throat.
I felt a cock in each hand as I heard the sound of spit behind me, then
felt slippery fingers jabbing at my asshole. My hands were not big
enough to close around the cocks they held -- the one on the left was
larger. As the fingers began to probe my ass more seriously, I tightened
my sphincter and squirmed, again protesting their taking what I would
gladly give them if asked. Joe's voice came from the left, "stop that
shit or I'll fuck you dry -- right now!" Mike's words came back to me,
"don't piss Joe off," and I knew why. There was no question that I'd be
taking Joe's huge prick up my ass, the only choice I had was between
taking it  now *dry*, or later, after I'd been loosened up. Steve's
balls were slapping the glass and beer can as he fucked my face. The
clanking of the ice in sync with the face fucking was hypnotic. Moaning,
I bobbed my head, sucking Steve's pistoning cock as best I could. The
forceful passion of Steve fucking my face shook the chair and the glass
went crashing to the ground. Joe slapped my ass hard, raising a welt,
"careful homo," his voice slapped my face from the left.

Steve pulled his throbbing rod from my mouth, trying to hold back, but
still shot a huge load all over my face and lips. I swallowed what I
could before Simon shoved his long fat slab of black meat into my mouth.
He stretched my jaw and made me gag, but Simon pushed on without mercy.
Once Simon's fat cock had gone as deep as it could, Kato withdrew his
two fingers from my ass and plunged his dick all the way in. He rested
for a few seconds before plunging in and out with a fury. His slender
shaft and plunger head felt wonderful as he slid in and out, stimulating
me wildly. It was then that I realized my dick was swinging free and was
rigid as a steel rod. The harder Kato fucked, the closer I was to coming
into thin air! Sensing this, Steve pinched my side, leaving a welt and
causing me to yelp, thus distracting me from the pleasure and preventing
me from climaxing. "Later, queer" was he rasped hoarsely.

As suddenly as he had started, Kato plunged deep inside me and froze, a
gasp and a faint trembling the only reminder of the furious motion of a
second before. Kato lay on my back for a moment, his cock still
twitching inside me, then slowly removed his still pulsing dick from my
ass. Mike's cock quickly took it's place, sliding almost completely in
before stopping and waiting for me to adjust to the additional length
before starting to fuck in earnest. Mike gripped me roughly at first,
then pulled almost completely out before deeply burying it again, all at
an unhurried pace; it seemed almost like love making.

Simon used a similar rhythm as he shoved his massive cock in and out of
my now relaxed mouth. Both lads seemed content to pace themselves and
enjoy the ride. So did I, and I learned what see-sawing felt like to a
see-saw! Soon, Mike's pace picked up, his body in urgent need of relief.
Steve's instinct took over and he hips became a blur of motion. He
pounded my ass fiercely, like an animal, using his last stoke to bury
his exploding torpedo deeper within me than I'd thought possible. His
cock pulsed and throbbed inside me as I tightened my sphincter around
his swollen probe. Steve lay still, collapsed on my back. Now and then
his cock would pulse as his hips ground into me with a spasm of
pleasure. Beginning to relax, I noticed warm lips on my dick. Suddenly,
they were replaced by the feel of intense cold and Steve jerked off and
out of me in one motion, "c'mon, man! Ya got me fuckin wet!"

Joe continued hosing down my cock and ass with cold water, laughing.
"Kato's ready to go again, gotta tighten up the whore a little." Joe's
words and tone were intense, almost malevolent. But he moved into my
view as he spoke and his expression had a benign, almost soft, quality.

Simon shifted around behind me and Mike offered me a scotch, a joint and
some poppers -- I gladly accepted them all as Steve lay below me,
warming my cock and balls with his tongue and mouth. Kato hopped up and
shoved a cold, wet finger up my ass, held it there a second, pulled it
out and replaced it with an icicle. My anus contracted as he twirled the
freezing dildo, then pulled it out. Another slender Chinese finger went
in, this one much warmer, and flicked rapidly around my prostate before
abruptly leaving. Just as quickly as he'd replaced a finger with ice and
then another finger, Kato shoved his stiff dick all the way up my ass.
He lay there for a moment, allowing me to recover from the forced entry.
Then he pushed deeper inside me and sucked air through his teeth, his
body tensed in . . . in what? Pain? The stillness lasted no more than
ten seconds before Kato began fucking like a madman. His body was
flailing as he threw himself all the way forward and all the way back,
over and over again. It finally dawned on me; Simon was fucking him
silly as he was me. Kato tried bravely to hang on, but ended up cumming
after only a couple minutes.

As soon as Kato came, Simon was pulling him off -- he couldn't wait to
stick his fat seven incher up my ass. Scared as I was, I looked forward
to it. By now, I didn't really care how things turned out; I'd already
gone to heaven.

Steve had started sucking me again, and Kato gave me more weed and
poppers; I knew they were prepping me for Simon, who was rubbing his
huge dick around my ass. He started to press into my hole, then pulled
back. Mike took his place and shoved every one of his seven inches deep
inside me where he stopped, then, using a side-to-side motion, pulled
back out. So far, all they boys had nice cocks that were a lot of fun to
take, but I knew Simon's was going to hurt and Joe's I didn't even want
to think about -- yet. I was glad to have Steve loosening me up first.

Mike worked my ass like a pro, loosening me up for Simon's huge dick as
Kato kept me plied with weed and poppers. I got the feeling they had all
done this before. I felt Mike's second climax inside me and found myself
loving every second of it, but hoping none of them had any diseases.
Before my ass had closed behind Mike's cock, Simon's came a knockin'. By
now, Kato had slid underneath and was sucking my cock and rubbing my
nipples and balls. An instant before Simon's head stretched me wide,
Kato pinched my right nipple and took my full seven inches of cock down
his throat, while Mike pushed a vial of poppers under each of my
nostrils. The rush was so intense I almost blacked out; the searing pain
of Simon's penetration, coupled with the pain on my nipples, lips on my
dick and popper high suspended me in Purgatory, dangling between heaven
and hell.

Simon fucked like he had behaved; occasionally acting rough but
generally betraying a deeply gentle nature. It was as though he caught
himself being intimate and punished us both for it with an occasional
sharp slap to my ass followed by a half dozen hard thrusts -- much like
his earlier conversational style. I was surprised at how well I was
taking Simon and how good it felt when my blurry gaze was filled by
Joe's uncut monument of a cock; a good eight inches, thick as a beer
can, curved slightly up, ending with a nice full head. Joe's chest was
well defined and covered with a light fur; the vision of a Greek god.
His dick jutted out in front of my face, my hands and shoulders still
restraining me from eagerly licking and sucking Adonis himself! The
bright flash and click of metal transformed the hand beside his penis
into a knife. I watched in fascination as the light glinted off the
knife and at how the veins of his huge cock were magnified in reflection
on the steel blade.

Joe gave me a wicked grin, then used the knife to cut the leather straps
at my hands. Then at my shoulders. Since the moment I'd seen Joe, he'd
been very stern, sometimes hostile, at best distant, so I was surprised
to see tenderness in his eyes. But that instant disappeared as quickly
as it had begun; he pulled me to him and slammed his cock into my mouth,
stabbing me with his tremendous spear. I was this hunter's prey and he
made sure I knew it as he leaned into me, leaned over and kissed Simon,
which sent Simon over the edge. Unlike the other boys who'd plunged deep
and laid still, Simon tried to thrust faster and ended up thrashing
around like a spaz. It was really funny, and hot -- I just about spewed
just from that!

Joe kept his dick in my mouth the whole time, but gave me more
opportunities to breath between deep thrusts -- he was distracted by
Simon's convulsive kiss, and I was happy for it. After a short while,
Simon slid out and, Joe, who was pretty worked up, walked around to take
his place. On his way, he cut the other ties, flipped me over and
adjusted the chair so we would face each other while he fucked me. I
wondered if he would kiss me -- he certainly had it within him, but, so
far, he had only treated me like shit. He sensed me tensing up as he
pressed his dick to my ass. He put my hand on his chest, moving it
around and letting go, then gently stroked my chest, stomach, cock. I
relaxed even as he leaned forward and penetrated me. It was incredible.
He went slowly, making sure he was lined up while only barely inside me,
exhaled into my ear as he bit the lobe, then slid into my ass with one
smooth motion. My head arched back and I entered a place I cannot
describe. There was pain, but there wasn't. It was highly erotic, yet
detached. It lasted an eternity before it allowed me to refocus on the
physical plane where I saw Kato getting between Joe's cheeks.

Laying there drunk, stoned, poppered out, getting fucked by a
humongously hung hunk had already brought me to a giddy state of
Nirvana. When this hot but scrawny Asian (with incredible stamina --
this was his third time!) started to mount the leader of the pack in
mid-stride it was all I could take. I laughed my ass off just as they
had at me before. To the questioning looks I replied with a gesture
towards Kato and a giggle garbled "don't piss Joe off!" After repeating
it a second time, everyone joined in the laughter. Joe gave me a smirk,
followed by a dirty look and then pounded my ass real hard for a good
long time -- he'd been about to cum, but decided that I had to be
punished! When Joe finally came, Kato had been replaced by Steve who'd
been replaced by Mike who thrust himself deep into Joe's orgasm which
spread to me. My deprived cock, still at attention, shot load after load
of steaming spunk across Joe's and my chests, sticking in the fine hair
on his, like sticky morning dew. Mike slumped down on Joe, who slumped
down on me, who was in heaven.

A few minutes later, everyone recovered and piled off of me. With a
mixture of relief and melancholy I allowed the parting. Still tired and
sore -- wondering if I would ever walk again -- each of the boys came up
to me and gave me a tender, sensuous kiss. Mike lingered longest,
licking lasciviously lest lust leave lovers languishing, lamenting. I
savored his kiss most of all, though Joe's was a victory and thus the
sweetest of all. When I sat up, I saw a pile of used condoms by the
swimming pool, the semen of the five lads mingling in puddles leaking
from the disheveled heap.


Post Script: Mike explained to me that he thought I might like a
dangerous fantasy and had suggested it to his pals/fuck-buddies who
loved the idea. After all, I wasn't in bad shape, looked good, and
wasn't that much older (31) than them. They'd all seen me and wondered.
Mike had suspected my lust and gave me shitty bags hoping I'd ask for
sex, too. Even though they had tied me up and taken my ATM & Visa cards
and PINs, they hadn't used them -- they just took a guess as to the
balances. While each of them had fucked me and I couldn't walk right for
a week, they had used condoms, as we did throughout the weekend, the
rest of which was great. We lounged around the house, pool, jacuzi and
beach -- which belonged to Steve's parents who were away for a couple
weeks -- and played with each other in the sun, trying every position
and combination we could think of.

After that weekend in heaven, we made it a semi-annual event. Over time,
new lads & blokes came into the group (Josh, Peter, Billy and Bob) while
others moved to other cities and scenes (Kato to Hong Kong, Steve to
Hawaii where he died surfing, Joe to a career as a porn star in LA). The
new initiation ritual they had started with me hasn't changed much;
we're still careful not to go too far, be unsafe or break any
boundaries, but it's still a roller-coaster ride for one and all, and
the weekend celebration is like Independence Day fireworks. Oh, Mike and
I are still lovers, ten years later.


Post Post Script: Of course you know that this is a purely fictional
account and that, although I might really want this to happen, it hasn't
-- if it ever does, I'll let you know. Any similarities to persons,
cartoons, caricatures, fauna, flora and objects, animate or inanimate,
organic or inorganic, real or imagined, living or dead, are purely
coincidental. This original work is copyrighted (c)1998 Dave. and all
rights are reserved. For personal, external use only, not to be included
with a collection or product for sale without consent of the author.