Date: Wed, 23 Jun 2004 02:08:56 -0400
From: Blonde Mountaineer <blondeallover@hotmail.com>
Subject: Man Cherry Fetish - part 4

Other than all the usual disclaimers, this story includes the consequences
of abduction and nonconsensual coercion. It was developed at the request of
an Asian cyber-friend.


			Man Cherry Fetish - part 4
			by bondeallover@hotmail.com


I awoke after an indeterminate time to find myself in his bed unshackled for
the first time. He was in a slumbering daze facing down all his unclothed
nurturing warmth nestled against me and his right arm stretched across my
upper abdomen and lower chest. I ground myself tighter against him in a
luxuriant snuggle. I gazed on his shimmering well rounded buns and could not
resist reaching to clasp a handful of flexible rump. He jerked awake and
sleepily turned his head to look at me and beam a genuine smile. Unlike
before, this expression was new and friendly, not the impudent smirk of a
vaguely contemptuous task master. He breathed in deeply and exhaled a
whispering question of tender familiarity. "Did you like the taste of my
shooting load, sweetie?" I responded with an encouraging grin not vocalizing
a sound, just nodding my head after a brief pause. He affectionately
smoothed the palm of his hand up and down my delighted bare torso,
occasionally so far down to twirl my spare but jet black pubes and firmly
grip the base of my swelled and stretched cock. He yawned and tightened all
his corpus to stretch and as he relaxed his muscles again, I was the one to
reach myself into him and press my lips against his, plunging my tongue into
his acquiescent mouth. I reached my left arm around his shoulders and the
back of his neck to cling to him to invite his own tongue to sensually mate
with mine and his own supple lips to pucker and press against mine with
uninhibited aggression. He nibbled on my lips and lowered his head slightly
to probe with stiff tongue and sucking lips and not quite gnashing love
bites my adams apple, the nape of my neck, my clavicle, down one pec to a
hardening nipple. All the while, the fingers of his reaching right hand
confidently stroked and explored the firey surface of my swollen sex,
delirious with delight to be recipient of such avid attentions. He shot a
knowing glance up at me and moaned in almost soft whisper. "I have never
tasted brown meat, love. Can I taste your brown meat?" My loins were now on
fire and I was nearly desperate for him to once again exploit my naked
defenselessness. My mind in a haze of erotic frenzy, all I could do was once
again merely nod, otherwise gesturing by rubbing the fingers of my own right
hand through his soft golden hair and lightly pressure his head to my
midsection. Involuntarily I raised my hips slightly to do anything to
facilitate the lewd act he was about to perform on me. With confident
conviction he moved down between my spread legs and with just the right
pressure ran his finger tips up both my thighs to my exposed groin. I gasped
to the thrill of this electric moment of tactile manipulation and squealed
unabashedly as he lifted my nut sack with one finger from my sensitized
crotch to run his swirling tongue along the ridges of its underside. He
hummed presumably in approval to the flavor of my ripe sexual excitation.

I found my voice now. "Oh plleeeeaassse, lick my brown boy balls. Those
balls are yours for the sucking and they boil with a load of rich Asian cum.
. . . Mmmmm your tongue feels sssoooo good. My brown tool aches to be washed
by your thick squirming tongue." He obliged me immediately by grasping the
base of my shaft firmly with fingers and thumb to control the involuntary
dance of bouncing flinches. On fire, it was if my genitals were screaming
with impatience for his oral attentions. I gasped and moaned with delirium
as he wagged his tongue with firm pressured sweeps up and down my bursting
organ, concentrating especially at the underside base of my knob and the tip
of my gaping soft pee hole. I gasped again when he thrust my meat into his
mouth, now mixing the exquisite sensations created by his facile tongue with
those prompted by the frenetic pumping of warm wet suction. His audibly
fervent slurping and smacking heightened the erotic intensity of the moment
and the building hot tension in my balls and ass induced me into a tirade of
raunchy encouragement. "Suck ME, you pale perverted freak." By now my hips
were thrusting upward sending my short inches deeper into his oral grip in
quick jabs. "Suck my ripe brown meat. . . Taste some reeeal exotic man funk
like you never tasted. . . . You know you want it. Yyessssssss, milk me for
my powerful Asian cum and chug down the sweet and sour spunk that shoots
from my dick. . . . Aaaaaahh, eat it, drink it." It was as if my whole being
was absorbed into the focus of riveting orgasmic release. My most intimate
fluids were hotly coursing through the over-stimulated passage of my male
swelling and deep into the mouth of my avid pursuer. Obviously experienced,
his tongue swept away the fruit of each ejaculatory emission in such a
sensual fashion that it would deliciously prompt the next with even greater
intensity. I was lost in a hazy stupor of intense erotic release that could
only be prompted by a masterful male succubus who milks his prey for every
last drop and every fragment of sexual energy.

When my "worked over" softened dick finally slipped from the slobber of his
oral affections, I was exhausted. My love cuddled his warm nakedness into
me. Twirling his white fingers in my black hair, he kissed my cheek, his
lips still puckered whispered into my ear. "You were right sweetie. You're
squirting jizz really is full of funky flavor."

Suddenly, I was startled out my sleepy cocoon of safe and secure nude
relaxation. My partner's bedroom closet door burst open and my professor,
whose home I had graced before being restrained to this bed, nonchalantly
walked into the room, his smiling eyes trained on both of us. In a fitful
panic, I snapped any available bedding I could to cover myself. "Everything
is quite alright, Mr. Ariffisma. No need for alarm," he consoled. My captor,
never bothering to conceal his nakedness, silently convulsed in hysterical
merriment to my expression of surprise and alarm. His exposed dick flopped
about to the staccato of his jostling frame. "I need to confess to you that
I was part of a conspiracy to abduct you to introduce you to exceptional
pleasures that can only be achieved between men." No longer alarmed or
shamed, I was still speechless with a sense of the unexpected and I still
fiercely clung to bits of bedding that I could stretch up to my navel.

In my coerced tryst of unknown hours, I had noticed out of the corner of my
eye that the closet door was always slightly ajar, but never thought it a
matter of consequence. I now realized that probably both my sexual assaults
and consenting escapades had been voyeuristically investigated in graphic
detail by my professor of courses in international relations. It so happened
that our bedroom of carnal affairs was on the second floor of my professor's
home. "You played it again, Sam. As usual, to theatrical perfection."

"Thanks professor, but you know how to pick 'em", Sam replied almost wearliy
and matter of factly. He managed to raise himself to affectionately kiss my
shoulder and fondle the back of my neck. "Besides, I was able to really bust
my nut with this one."

I turned to him almost equally alarmed. "What do you mean 'this one'. I love
you. I always want to be yours, now."

Sam smiled broadly and his flaccid dick began to twitch and show signs of
returning excitement. "I am really touched sweetie. But you still don't seem
to get it. The professor and I have a fetish for cherry. We have a fetish
for breaking man cherry. He seeks out virgins in the sense of boys or men
who have never had sex with other males.

He watches while I break 'em in."

Before Sam could elaborate further, the professor interrupted. "You have to
understand, Mr. Ariffisma, Sam has a talent for physically releasing the
hidden desires from our selected males. Your situation is not unique. From a
starting point of abduction and real coerced rape, Sam is always able to
convert our subject from abject fear, derisive loathing and pain to the
flower of blissful sexual awakening. Each one's life transforms radically
from then on to become almost zealous in his quest for intense physical
relations with other males. It is always a stunning performance to behold.
You can now begin an adventure in your life that will feature intense
physical pleasure with boys and men."

On balance, the professor is right. I now have a fulfilling sex life
promiscuous with almost the full range of physical interactions between
males that could be regarded as pleasurable. But I can't help myself. I
still "carry a torch" for my first true love, who by demeaning me, released
passions in me that I had not even fathomed in my deepest fantasies. My
first sexual encounters were with others of "the fraternity." The other
males who have been initiated by Sam and the professor's "cherry popping"
fetish scheme. We bond by common experience and share our similar stories of
awakened carnal desire. It is fun in a surreptitious sort of way; not unlike
being a member of a secret society in our semi-remote community. Almost a
year later I discovered from others in our circle that Sam will reward any
successful procurements to enable his fetish with sexual favors. I prowl
nearby towns for local and young students and bait them to social functions
with promises of drugs, beer, or pretty girls. Each successful conquest
merits me an encounter with Sam. No one is able to drill my gripping tight
love hole with the fierce conviction of Sam's hips and meaty pleasure pole.
Our sessions always start by my clothes almost being wrenched and torn off
me. By the time he reaches to peel away my briefs, the fabric is nearly
soaked with the joy juices of my profusely leaking cock. My cock only leaks
with such abundance for the man cherry fetishist who will always be my first
and most enduring love.


An illustration was prepared specifically for this story. Anyone who would
like a copy to be messaged to him, please contact me. All e-mail messages
of appreciation, disapproval, or suggestions regarding my stories are very
welcome. This chapter concludes my story.
blondeallover@hotmail.com.