Date: Mon, 4 Feb 2008 22:38:40 EST
From: Glaucon55@aol.com
Subject: Post Punk Kids No. 13

Punk Kids: or Brent's Big Boner
October 16, 2005

Disclaimer:

If you are not yet 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials
of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story is for
adults, and contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys
initiated by them and with older men. This story is completely fiction, all
descriptions and names are also made up, and any similarities are truly
just that, purely similarities. I do not engage in or condone sexual
activity between adults and teenagers which is regulated by law. These are
fantasies for sexual private sexual enjoyment, not for emulation in real
life.

I would appreciate comments on my writing which may be a bit rusty. I
certainly admire the good writers on the web, and consider myself still a
learner.  Please contact me at glaucon55@....

Chapter: 13 Copping a Feel

Johnny wanted to put Brent into a special scene, to see the big teenage
Jock servicing another male and in abject humiliation.  But which male?
Trevor, Darren, Father Richardson?  Well, the good Father Richardson
provided him with a perfect choice.  The bugged confessional produced one
of the town's finest in a most compromising situation.  Johnny began to
wonder if every straight male in town was dipping his bone into the
priest's throat in search of the cocksucking their wives and girl-friends
would not, or could not, provide.  Every male wants the feeling of a hot,
wet mouth and slippery tongue sliding over his fevered boner, but few were
able to negotiate the deal that would get them the object of their day
dreams and wet dreams.  So most of them just jerked off to the fantasy.
But Father Richardson was clearly making a dent in the back-log of horny
males in town.  No one could have predicted, though, that one would be a
police officer.  Officer Connor Anderson's wife was 7 months pregnant with
twins, and the horny cop had been relegated to his fist since her fifth
month.  Connor was only five foot, eight inches tall.  At twenty-nine he
was still in great shape, from the tips of his size ten feet, to the top of
his head with its thick blond hair.

In junior high and high school, Connor perfected his fuck stroke, grinding
his unusually thick five and a half-inch prick into his sheets, an old gym
towel, and an old gym sock, as often as he could.  Every night, and most
mornings, he would fuck the bed, driving his sensitive prick knob into the
material, occasionally adding to his own copious pre-cum by adding hand
lotion from a bottle in his night stand.  As he was approaching
ejaculation, he would get up on his knees slightly and grind and drive his
penis into the wet, clinging material, allowing the soft fibers to graze
and grip his over-sized glans and tickle it mercilessly.  From behind, his
hairy ass pucker would wink with each driving thrust, exposing the ragged
cleft in the wet, dank trough of thick tangled hair.  God he loved it, the
soft scrubbing added to his aggressive, hard driving of his pelvis, to bang
as hard has he could.

When he met Ginny, after she showed him the wonders of a blow job, he
showed her how good a long, sustained fuck could be.  He would bring her to
orgasms two three times before he shot his thick load, and he reveled in
the chance to screw her deeply and long, her clinging cunt milking his
helplessly horny boy dick.

But before he met Ginny, Connor had learned that there were other ways to
satisfy his insatiable need to ejaculate.  At first he had prayed that he
could overcome the lust that raged through his beautiful body and
all-American good looks.  No one knew how his cock tingled in the back of
the classrooms, and how his hand stole down his pants pocket to stroke the
itchy knob that would not stop pulsing.  But those efforts were simply not
enough to quell the fire that burned in his testicles.  After a football
game when he was sixteen, a buddy who was another back-up player on the
team, took him out to a party where they got drunk.  He was plastered when
they left, and as horny as when they arrived.  He awoke sometime later, the
car was pulled over on some side-road and his pants and briefs were at his
ankles. His buddy was sucking on the fat knob of his prick, swirling his
tongue around it, suckling just below the corona making his ass bounce
uncontrollably.  He tried to push his buddy off, but it felt so fucking
good his legs seemed to spread on their own even as he struggled. His
buddy, the back-up place-kicker on the team, was holding his nuts with one
hand, his index finger tickling the hairy pucker of Connor's asshole, and
the other hand was up under his shirt, scratching and pinching his hard
tits.  He couldn't focus, except to let the fingers and mouth that were
plying his body take control and relieve his full balls.  Yeah, it felt so
good, he slid down on the car seat, still drunk and his head spinning, and
let the punk bathe his prick head in spit, his tongue lashing and licking
the bulging glans, filling his mouth with his unusual size, leaking and
pulsing.  The worrying fingetip at this anus made him grind his ass and
writhe on the seat, and within minutes, he let the incredible sensation of
the hot mouth drag him over the edge, grunting and groaning as he unloaded
ropes of thick teen scum into the siphoning mouth of his buddy.  That
night, they said nothing to each other when they departed company.  They
were drunk...shit happens.  But that night, as Connor tossed on his bed,
his cock again hard, his dreams recalling the hot, wet, suction on his
prick head, he knew that he could not resist the temptation and the
opportunity to get sucked whenever he could.

Connor confronted his buddy the next day—slamming the boy into the
field-house lockers when everyone was gone, then pushing the boy to his
knees and making him kiss Connor's bulging crotch---ordered him to sniff
and rub his face in it.  For the rest of high school, if he needed to get
his rocks off, he would make the punk cocksucker take him for a drive, then
take his load---sometimes getting a full body tongue bath and whatever else
he wanted.  No one knew because his buddy was both humiliated and horny for
Connor's body.  Connor would make the kid masturbate after he would suck
him off, and lick up his own cum as his dues for having the privilege of
servicing Connor's perfect body and thick cock.  Other times he would make
the kid grovel at his feet, forcing him to unlace his sneakers with his
teeth, lick and suck his asshole, and suck his long, thick toes.  It was
great, getting the kind of attention to his body that he could not expect
Ginny to give.

That was years ago, now he was married, he had left those deliciously
raunchy days behind when he could get his buddy to suck him two or even
three times a day on occasion.  Now, without sex with Ginny for two months,
and only his fist to rely on in the toilet or in the shower, he was going
stir crazy.  He needed his cock worked in someone's mouth, deep in some
tight hole, or milked in a lubricated fist---just not his own.  He was
tempted to go to the neighboring town on his day off and look for a hooker,
but what if he got caught?  A cop caught getting his joint cranked by some
prostitute...that would the end of his career and his marriage.  He needed
some help, and with his prick constantly hard, he needed it quick.  He
decided to go to confession, maybe if he talked it though with a priest to
see if he could get his head straight.  So that is how Officer Connor
Anderson ended up in Father Richardson's booth, and from there into the
clutches of Johnny Berkland.

Men like Office Anderson could not think straight when their cocks were
hard, and Father Richardson knew just how to draw him into the web.  He had
Connor recite his needs and desires, and had him speak about his fantasies,
and then somehow got him to talk about the time before he was married.  The
cameras were rolling as Connor somehow let the priest open the screen, and
press his hand against the offending organ.  Before he knew it his zipper
was down, and through the fly of his briefs the thick, short prick was
being caressed by the Father's warm hands, and then his hot mouth, licking
and sucking, twisting round and round the oversized, aching glans.  Shit it
was hot, seeing the young police officer pressed against the booth wall,
his hands and face up against the partition while grinding his taut
buttocks to drive the horny penis into the sucking mouth of the voracious
priest.

Father Richardson knew he was putting the young, married police officer
into a jackpot, but once he heard the dilemma facing Connor, and looked at
the handsome blond hunk on the other side of the screen, his sense of duty
began to evaporate.  The moment he learned that the cop had enjoyed another
man sucking his cock, and making love to his body, he was lost...his own
cock now hard as a rock and dripping.  He had to suck the police officer,
on his own terms in the confessional.  As he suckled the drooling cock
knob, torquing his mouth and tongue around it making the young man gasp and
grunt, he slipped his hands up under the shirt, searching for Connor's firm
nips.  When Officer Anderson bucked against the partition the last time,
and began to shoot bolts of cop cum into the vacuuming mouth, the priest
plied his tits firmly, making the hunky cop groan even more and through the
distraction, allowed his gism to spurt unrestrained from the quivering
prick.  Hmmmmm, the savory, nutty taste of the masculine man's sperm, and
the bleachy odor complimenting the copious amount filling Father
Richardson's greedy mouth, it was a jerk-off fantasy come true.

Now Johnny had a prize to use in the humiliation of Brent.  For one week,
Officer Connor Anderson had been restrained in one of Johnny's cock cages.
He expected some adult criminal to be behind the incriminating photos and
the e-mail mpeg he received with his face contorted in ecstasy as his cock
was gobbled in the confessional booth.  Like the cock restraint one on
Brent, it allowed for erection, but prevented ejaculation and could be worn
under a jock strap or regular briefs.  It took an adjustment in how he
showered and dressed at the Station, but with careful planning, Connor was
able to keep his secret.

The day Johnny and Father Richardson met with Officer Anderson, after
sending him e-mail copies of the video and jpegs of his performance in the
confessional, the encounter was awkward and even confrontational.  Johnny
had to rely on the priest to protect him from Connor's anger.  But they
made it through, and when Anderson understood his situation, he finally
agreed to Johnny's terms, frustrated and helpless.  He cringed when the boy
unbuckled his uniform pants, and unzipped them, lowering them and his
briefs to the policeman's knees.  He allowed the boy to have his way with
him even holding up his shirt while his body was examined, and then the
cruel cock restraint fastened onto his stiff cock, erect from Johnny's soft
hands and expert manipulation.  As the boy gently grasped the thick, hard
penis of the cop and pulled the restraint over it, the priest was behind
him gently tugging on his nipples, and fingering his firm stomach muscles.
By the time the restraint was secured with the tiny lock, Connor was not
only fully engorged, drops of pre-cum filled the piss well.  Johnny
marveled at the huge knob on Connor's thick but short penis, and knew that
for the time being, Officer Connors would be suffering from blue balls
unable to ejaculate with his restraint in place.

A week later, Officer Connor Anderson was in the basement of the rectory,
in the room that Father Richardson had been maintaining for Johnny's use.
While Johnny had watched, and filmed, he had been stripped and then
thoroughly bathed and washed by the priest, including handling of his penis
when he pissed, and two soapy enemas to clean out his rectum which drew
grunts and groans from the unfamiliar intrusion.  Connor had been gagged
and shackled during these procedures, and now he was bound on the queen
size bed.  He was on his knees, with a spreader bar separating his ankles
widely.  His arms were tethered over his head to a bar suspended from
eye-hooks in the ceiling.  His uniform cap was on, as well as his empty Sam
Browne belt.  His cock restraint had been removed, and through gentle
handling by the priest, Officer Anderson was erect and already dripping
drops of pre-fuck.  His gag remained in place, and a look of concern and
grunts of protest came from behind it.  That is when Johnny brought Brent
into the room.

Brent was in jeans, t-shirt and flip-flops.  He'd already showered, but
Johnny had Father Richardson take him into the bathroom.  "Father, I think
Brent needs to piss and then please give him an enema."  Brent was
distracted, looking at the person on the bed, bound and gagged with a
policeman's hat on, and a belt.  But before he could say anything, he heard
Johnny's instructions to the priest and wanted to protest.

"Aw common Johnny, I can piss myself, and no more enemas, jeez, please no
more dude?  I've done everything you've asked, Christ, gimme a break."

Johnny did not answer, but nodded to the priest who took the compliant
teenager by his arm and led him to the bathroom.  Brent looked back at
Johnny as he went with the Father, an expression of pleading on his face,
but he got no response from the thirteen year old.  Soon he could hear
Brent's zipper being lowered, the rustle of his jeans and briefs, and then
pissing, knowing that Father Richardson was holding the big boy penis even
as it slowly erected.  Then after stripping off his clothes and flip-flops,
Brent bent over and leaned against the counter.  He was instructed to push
back, like he was going to shit, so Father Richardson could gently slide
the greased nozzle of the enema into Brent's tight rectum.  Father looked
down to see Brent curl his long, thick toes into the bathroom mat as the
unerring nozzle breached his tight portal, and made his ass wriggle as it
slowly tickled its way up to his prostate.  "Oooohh fuck, take it easy
Father, jeez, aaaaawwwww..." Brent moaned as the plastic nozzle finally
bumped against his prostate, making him clench before the clamp was
released and the warm soapy water drained into his colon.
"Aaaaaaagggghhhhhh...Brent groaned as the water filled him, and his prick
hardened even more, now drooling pre-cum from the combined pressures in his
rectum.  He was allowed to evacuate his bowels on the toilet, while the
randy priest fisted his leaky cock knob, and then the procedure was
repeated, making sure he was clean and his balls ready to scum.  Then the
priest used a soapy wash cloth to wipe him down, paying careful attention
the sensitive anus lips, pushing the terry cloth into the dimpled opening
with his finger to make sure it was clean.  Now the horny teenager, who had
not ejaculated for almost a week, was ready, panting and grunting from the
way Father Richardson strummed his hunky athletic frame, touching, pinching
and tugging as he followed Johnny's instructions to prepare Brent.

Brent was led to the bed, where Johnny revealed what was to occur.  "Brent,
dude it's time you learned that you're no better than Father Richardson.
Just cause you let other guys suck your dick doesn't mean that you aren't a
cocksucker or a punk.  You like it like a dog loves a bone.  I see how much
you love it when you big dick gets sucked and jacked, when people lick your
body and pinch your tits.  You whine and moan like any bitch in heat.  But
you think that makes you straight cause you're not doing anything, and
others are servicing you.  Well dude, you're gonna find out that you're no
better than the rest of us...and I'll bet you're gonna like it.  Get up on
the bed."

"Hold on Johnny, Jesus, I've done everything you've asked, but I'm not
gonna become a cocksucker...so forget it dude, that's it...I'm not doing
it---common, I can't...please, don't ask me to do this...don't dude,
common, I've kept my part of the deal!"  Johnny glared at Brent, and began
to reach for the belt he had brought with him.  Perhaps he had to give
Brent another spanking to get his dick up, and his mind straight.

"No you haven't dude...to keep our deal, you gotta do everything I
ask...and no questions.  I told you that when we met at my place, and you
agreed, and you've had to have your attitude adjusted before...remember?
There isn't anything you won't do...because if I want it, you better do it,
otherwise those pics and the new ones I've got are going out to the world.
Face it dude, you're fucked up for the rest of middle school and high
school.  For the next four years, if you're good, you'll get lots of sex,
cum a lot, and then when you go to college you'll be free.  But in the
meantime, you're mine.  See that dude on the bed, he's a cop...and he's
gagged and tied down.  If he can't escape, dude you've got no chance.  Now
shut up, and get on the bed, NOW!" Father Richardson stared in amazement at
Johnny and his brash confident tone, reflecting a man much older and mature
than his thirteen years.

Brent looked down at his athletic big boy feet, and shifted his weight from
one to the other.  As he gazed down, he was amazed to see that his cock was
erect, bobbing up and down with its prominent curve and fat knob, wet from
the early fuck lust that was drooling out his piss lips.  He was a fucking
whore, his cock needed constant attention, and there was something about
being at the mercy of this punk kid that made his heart pound.  Looking up
and away, with an expression of resignation, he walked over to the bed, and
climbed up on it, his cock bobbing from side to side from the movement,
having lost none of its tumescence.

When he climbed up, Johnny directed him to go behind Officer Anderson.
Connor turned his head, and babbled through his gag, mumbling incoherently,
his eyes following Brent's movements.  The fifteen year old hunk looked up
at the protesting police officer's face, his eyes open wide, but he knew he
had to do what the little punk told him to do.  When he got behind Connor,
Johnny gave him his orders: "Dude, see those big boy feet on our cop here,
they're clean and Father here has massaged them with stuff that make `em
soft and smooth.  Now they need you dude, so get your mouth down there, and
start sucking on the pig's piggies, and use your hands to scratch and
tickle the other one."

One last time, Brent looked up despondent and pathetic, pleading with his
eyes.  The thirteen year old overseer looked at his pitilessly, having no
intention of giving him respite.  So Brent lowered his mouth toward the
thick, wriggling toes of the police officer whose grunts and babbling
continued to be muffled and indecipherable through his gag.

Connor was proud of his feet in an unconscious male way.  They had made him
fast and powerful on the football field, with quick moves in hundreds of
outdoor basketball games, riding bikes as a kid, running around with his
buddies and playing all day long. As a kid he was often in flip-flops or
barefeet, and still on weekends, he aired those big dogs out and let other
men and women wonder if their size and musculature hinted at size and
strength elsewhere.  As a cop, Connor's feet had made him successful in the
academy competing against other guys, and now as a beat officer they
pounded the pavement in his regulation boots, heating up and getting wet
and stinky after a long day.  But a quick shower and his flip flops always
restored the soft soles, and allowed him to flex and curl his thick, long
toes.  When he fucked Ginny, he often used his feet to drive or to balance
as he corkscrewed his shaft into her sticky cunt.  And he remembered his
buddy in high school, who taught him the connection between his feet and
his dick, sucking on them to earn a chance at Connor's thick, leaky dick.
Now another male, who relied on his feet to make him both successful as
well as vulnerable, was about to service his toes in ways no one had since
his buddy in high school.  But then, it was private...now it was in front
of other guys...fucking humiliating.

Brent's tongue came out slowly, and lashed underneath the toes, at first
intimidated by their wriggling and thrusting movements, trying to avoid
contact with Brent's mouth.  But every time Brent touched another body in a
sexual way, his cock would betray him, and once it did, his brain seemed to
follow.  Johnny watched as Brent's prong already erect, began to pulse,
reaching up to his stomach and at the same time, both his eyes closed and
his mouth closed (over the meaty cop toes).  Now his nimble tongue worked
even as Connor's toes flexed, licking and sucking them and his other hand
went to Connor's other foot, gently tickling and stroking the pale, soft
sole.  Connor squealed into his gag, and his prick went brick hard,
dripping clear drops of pre-cum onto the bed as the penis throbbed from the
excitement of having his feet suckled and tickled.

Connor threw his head back, howling into the gag from the maddening
tickling of his feet.  As he did so, Father Richardson reached up to the
man's curved and hairy pecs and searched through the thick blond hair that
covered cop's chest to find the rubbery cones of his teats that just peaked
through the forest.  He licked both of his index fingers and grasped the
firm nubbins and began to twist and gently scratch them.  Connor was lost,
the two sensations were driving him wild, and he thrust out his chest, even
as he desperately wrenched his toes to try and escape from Brent's lingual
and digital ministrations.  That's when Johnny reached between the splayed
legs of the hairy cop, and scratched his nail against the meaty connection
between Connor's hanging ball sack and his thick cock root.  As his
fingernail dragged across this sensitive spot, the policeman's penis burped
pre-snot, wetting the entire, unattended glans, and continuing to drip onto
the bed.  "Wwwwwwaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...uuuuuuggghhh, oooooofffffffff
...uuuuuuuuggghhhhhhh" Connor grunted into his gag, his eyes now rolling
the back of his head as his handsome body was assaulted from all sides.
Ever in control, Connor was out of control and his body was no longer his
to command.  He was being played with like a pet, and his insatiable sexual
drive prevented him from rejecting the sweet sensations that were molesting
him.

After ten continuous and grueling minutes of this torture, Johnny ordered
Brent to get up and get between Connor's legs.  The cop was now covered
with a fine sheen of sweat, and it helped lubricate both the priest's and
Johnny's fingers as they played with the man's horny body.  Now Johnny was
getting to a place where Connor had little experience, but was about to
learn new things about himself.  "K dude, now get you tongue on the cop's
butt hole.  I wanna see you licking and tonguing his hole, and then I want
you to get a finger inside him and give him a good ass frig."  Once again
Brent pleaded with his eyes—nodding his head as if to say "no," and
gaving a disgusted look to his teenage master.  But his throbbing penis
seemed to lead him slowly and inexorably into position.  Once he parted the
thick dark hair between the furred and taut cheeks of the cop, exposing the
pink, ragged slit of his anus now tightly clenched, Brent closed his eyes
and thrust out his tongue, licking and flicking as he followed his
instructions.  The flesh was damp from Connor's perspiration, but he was
clean from his own shower and enema earlier, and as Brent realized there
was no raunchy scent or taste, his tongue picked up speed.

Connor was shocked by the sensation against his ass pucker.  He clenched
his glutes in the vain hope of preventing the soft, wet sensation lapping
against his previously inviolate anus.  But while his sphincter tightened
against the poking tongue and its tingling attack, he could not stop the
novel sensation rolling back and forth against the anal lips.  Father
Richardson alternated gentle pinches of his nipples, then lowered his mouth
to one nipple while he rolled the other, making the captive policeman hiss
into his gag, reflexively arching to thrust his pec toward the sucking
lips.  Ah, the whorish teats were hungering for the fingering and sucking
they were getting from the priest. At the same time, the teenage jock began
to chew the crevice of the cop, licking and gently biting the virgin
territory, causing the big man to grind his hips to seek respite from the
nipping teeth and wriggling tongue.  Now Connor's toes were curling, but
not from sucking on his toes or scrabbling fingers, but from the
tongue-lashing he was receiving on his sensitive anal knot.

Connor recalled how it felt to have his first medical exam after he had
finished the academy.  He was called into the doctor's office, and the
older male who was ruggedly handsome and graying just slightly, had fingers
the size of a small anal prod.  Connor recalled how he blushed furiously
when the doctor's insistent rubbing of his prostate made him ejaculate
copious ropes of thick, sticky white jism onto the exam table against which
he had pushed in prick in the vain hope he could stop the sensation that
immediately built up when his rectum was breached.  The doctor had laughed
and said not to worry, that it seemed like every other cop he had tested
had done the same thing.  But to Connor, it seemed that the doctor had kept
his finger up there a bit longer than necessary, and used the extra time to
take a sperm sample from the clinging dregs that covered his fat, still
tumescent glans.  Now Johnny had Brent down between the captive cop's legs,
prying into his anal crack, seeking the private and sensitive trench where
even toilet paper made his cock occasionally stiffen, and where during
showers Connor would on occasion slip his finger in to cause an immediate
ejaculation when he needed to get a load off.

To keep the cop on the edge, Johnny used his thumb and forefinger (covered
with finger sheaths made from medical rubber gloves and paint brush
bristles), to gently scour the glans of the cop's fat cock, tickling and
rubbing it—collecting the thick pre-ejaculate and smoothing it over the
raging cock knob.  Fuck it was amazing to see a big hunky police man in his
hat and belt, helpless and writhing in his bonds to escape the delicious
sensations at his most private locations, wheezing and whining into the gag
that kept him from shouting for relief and release.  His fingers were
scrabbling helplessly behind his back, involuntarily moving to stop the
wicked sensations that were driving Connor insane.

Johnny made Brent get up, and take the same position as the cop in front of
the bound man.  Then he cuffed Brent's hands behind him, used a spreader
bar to keep his legs apart, and made sure that the teenager's large, curved
shaft was up against the rigid, short but thick shaft of the policeman.
Then after gagging Brent, Johnny took the circlets he'd used previously on
Brent and fixed them around both men's glans, making sure they were also
connected.  Both men squealed incoherently through their gags, begging the
teenage sadist to spare them.  But Johnny worked methodically as Father
Richardson himself leaked copiously in anticipation of what was about to
happen.  Once the two men's cocks were bound together by the electrical
wire, then Johnny and Father Richardson slipped in two respective prods
into each man's rectum.  Brent wiggled his butt as if he objected mightily
but at the same time, as the prod slid home his penis throbbed madly,
leaking more clear sap, knowing how hard he was going to ejaculate from the
sensation deep within his bowels.  When Johnny went to insert the prod in
Connor, with the priest holding the law man's butt cheeks apart, the cop
yelled into his gag, and tried as hard as he could to squeeze his ass
muscles. Johnny was prepared, he had Father Richardson reach up and twist
the cop tits with saliva moistened fingers, and the moment Connor reacted
to the delicious pinches, the young teen slid the lubricated prod into the
cop's rectum when his focus was distracted.  "UUUuuuummmmmmmm...
hhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuhhh, uuuuuummmmmmm!"  Connor's eyes went wide, then closed
tightly and he grimaced as his ass muscles reflexively gripped the anal
prod and he felt the customary soreness at the first intrusion into the
bowels.  Miraculously, he didn't ejaculate!  It wasn't painful, it was a
fullness and ache from what the prod was bumping...his fucking prostate,
shit, the same place the God damn doctor had poked when he had his medical
for the job.  He acted like he fucking hated it when the doctor slid his
gloved finger in him during the exam, making his cock twitch and then
ejaculate spontaneously.  But secretly, Connor like Brent was an overly
sexed male whose conscious existence was driven by his unconscious fuck
lust.  Even Connor's tits hardened when the doc drove him up on his toes by
thrusting that thick digit deeply into him.

Now Johnny's prod had done the same thing, and it was ready along with the
other toys Johnny had affixed.  With a flick of the switch, he had the two
erect prongs buzzing from the low-level electric current coming from the
transformer.  The two fat glans were rubbing against each other within the
confines of the flexible wires, their respective circumcision scars
grinding against each other.  Their slippery pre-cum lubricated the
friction between their erectile tissue, and their hips were thrusting
adding to the frottage between the two---teenage hunk and hunky cop.  Their
thrusting was exaccerbated by the deep anal massage from the vibrators
humming within each of them.  Johnny got up and went behind Brent,
thrusting his tongue into the teen hunk's ear, while Father Richardson gave
the same treatment to Officer Anderson.  They each put their fingers on the
tips of the tit nubs of both men, scratching gently, and then beginning
with the soft pinches, and electric twists that sent jolts down to the
rectums and pricks of both sexual animals.  It took about fifteen minutes,
but the pulsing glans kept grinding against each other with the tingling
buzz of the electrical current driving them further and further up the
ladder to a huge cum.  Johnny snapped pictures as both men started to gasp,
and both closed their eyes and leaned their heads back as both pricks
stretched out, the fat knobs expanding obscenely.  Then wads of sticky
sperm bolted from each set of piss lips, coating each man's stomach and
making their glans even more sensitive from the slippery lubricant as they
continued to rub against each other.  Now their groans and cries became
high pitched squeals as the overly sensitive glans continued to be buzzed
and rubbed, as did the aching prostates in their clenching rectums.  The
room smelled of cum, the sharp bleachy-starchy pungent odor, and the globs
of thick white pudding coating their strumming penises.

Fuck Johnny loved managing these two hunky sex addicts to spurt their
private male seed over their bodies.  Their big cocks drove their brains
the moment they were erect, and no matter how much they protested, they
would spit cum constantly once someone started to tease and play with their
bodies.  The afternoon was just beginning, but before it was over, the
hunky teenage athlete and the buff police officer would ejaculate twice
from the prods and coils, and once more from a sixty-nine, bound to each
other.  Shit it was hot, seeing the two of them suck the other's pricks
with the threat of one more ejaculation for the loser.  Johnny and Father
Richardson played with Connor's body in the shower one more time, torquing
their soapy fists around his fat cock knob, milking a dribbling ejaculation
from him, but enjoying the post-cum jerking of his body from their
continued attention to the overly-sensitive glans when he lost the contest
to Brent.

Johnny finished the day by leaving the two spent men bound to chairs while
he had Father Richardson strip him, lick his body from head to toe, tongue
his asshole, and then slowly masturbate his own thick priest cudgel with
the bristle gloves until he came to a shattering ejaculation which he was
required to collect in a dish.  Then using a small paint brush, he brushed
and basted Johnny's cock with his cum, till is was covered in the copious,
thick spooge that had been in priest's balls since the last time Johnny had
allowed him to cum.  Once Johnny was painted with the priest's cum, Father
Richardson had to slowly suck him to a thrilling, bucking cum.  Then once
again, the priest was required to masturbate himself, this time using an
anal prod as well, and catching the cum on the plate once more.  This time,
Johnny made his coat his toes with the cum, and had the good Father suck
them clean while he jerked himself for a third time.  This ejaculation was
caught in his fist, and then after licking his palm, he had to suck Johnny
off one last time before the afternoon's pleasure ended.  The Priest, Cop
and Brent were returned to their cock restraints, and they would begin
another slow and desperate week without being allowed to ejaculate.

To be continued...I appreciate all the comments I have received since I
began posting this story.  Since this is my first written work on my own in
two years, I will continue to look forward to hearing from you.
Glaucon55@aol.com