Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 11:21:41 +0100
From: port_pass <port_pass@hotmail.com>
Subject: Thinking Back #30

Author: Alex, from Portugal
E-mail: port_pass@hotmail.com

Any feedback will be much appreciated.

This story may have non-consensual sex between males. Don't read it if
you're not legally allowed to or if it might disturb you.


Part 30

I ran out of the school chapel and across the small garden in front. I hid
behind some shrubs, trying to regain my breath, but I felt sick again. This
time I did throw up, breakfast, teen sperm and Holy Bread all gushing out
of my mouth. After that, I had to wait until the congregation poured out of
the church until I finally felt safe enough to go out on the street without
being seen, after my awkward exit from mass.

This horrid episode in church, made me feel more hopeless than ever. I
walked zombie-like to the station, not forgetting that I had to go to the
bus depot to try to get back my subscription card.

I knew the bus company's office would be closed, so I headed to the small
container on the side of the building where they sold tickets and
subscriptions.

I asked the man at the window for my card. I didn't really tell him the
whole story, of course, just that I had lost my card on a bus. He looked at
me for a moment, then opened a side door and told me to come inside to help
him look for the card.

I stood in the small cubicle, hidden from the outside, while he attended to
a few other customers at the window. He was an older man, in his late 50's
perhaps, gray, balding hair. He was short and overweight, but looked like
he should have been a strong man in his younger days. I looked
around. There wasn't much in the confined space inside, just the small desk
pushed against the wall next to the window, his chair, and a set of shelves
cramped with boxes. The place was stuffy, with just the small window and a
ventilator shaft at the back to renew the air.

He finally turned his attention to me. He picked up a small envelope from a
drawer on his desk and took out of it my card. My face lit up when I saw
it, but instead of returning it to me, he held it between two fingers,
grinning.

"So you're the fag cocksucker I heard about, aren't you?" he asked. I
blushed purple-red and was only able to stammer an embarrassed denial,
which he didn't pay any attention to. "They were right, you are a cute
little thing. If you want your card back, you'll have to show me your
skills. I was told you give some fabulous head, and I intend to find out if
it's true." He then pointed to the small space under his desk and told me
to get in there.

I didn't resist, just did as he told me and crawled under the desk. He sat
down, opened his uniform trousers, and took his limp, uncut cock out of his
white briefs. I hesitated for a moment, but he pulled my face to his
crotch. "Start sucking, bitch", he commanded. I took his cock in my mouth
and started sucking. It took a while to get it hard, reaching its full 15
cm [6"]. After the practice I had been having, I didn't have much trouble
sucking it all in, feeling his mushroom knob popping in and out of my
throat. I was very uncomfortable curled up under the desk, but I had no
choice but to endure it until I managed to make him shoot.

While I was on my knees sucking, several customers came to the window. The
first time, I stopped, afraid that the person outside would notice
something, but the man pulled my face to his crotch, signalling me to go
on.

As soon as the coast was clear again, he looked under the desk and growled,
"You don't stop sucking unless I tell you to, understood?" Then he held my
head by my hair and started face-fucking me hard.

For a while, it went much the same: he would fuck my mouth roughly when
there was no one there, and would let me suck at my own pace when some
customer showed up. This had nothing to do with the quick blowjobs I had
had to give to the boys in the school choir. This man wanted to take his
time, enjoying his unexpected Sunday morning treat, and I just had to
oblige him.

It was now lunchtime, so he was able to close the window and draw a small
curtain that hid us from anyone trying to peep in. He pulled his chair
back, allowing me to crawl out from my uncomfortable position under the
desk. I had been sucking him for over thirty minutes and he must had
started to complain that I was slowing down, so he thought of a way to give
me an extra incentive. "I heard you love to have your tits played with. Is
that true?" My only reply was a sigh of resignation, as I opened my
Sunday-best white shirt and he roughly groped my fleshy, smooth
chest. "Uhmmm, I love your peachy, sissy breasts", he commented,
manhandling them for a while, before moving his fingers to my sensitive,
erect nipples.

For as much as I hated myself for it, the pressure of his fingers cruelly
pinching my tender buds drove me to the usual frenzy of pain and lust. I
squirmed helplessly, feeling my own little pecker stiffen in my shorts. He
grinned as he felt my response and went on sadistically twisting and
pinching my nipples.

He didn't have reason to complain about my lack of commitment anymore. I
pumped eagerly on his shaft. Rationally, I knew that it was the only way to
end this torture as soon as possible, but my rampant eagerness for his cock
had very little to do with reason, and everything to do with uncontrollable
sexual hunger. At the back of my head, I even regretted that he stopped so
short of the massive cocks I had been forced to please those days before.

In my perverted lust, I had actually started to hump shamelessly against
his leg, just as a real bitch would. When I realised what was going to
happen it was too late. I felt an electric discharge shooting through my
body as I came in my briefs, shaking and moaning while he tried to muffle
my noises by ramming his cock deep in my throat. I was so mortified by my
own uncontrollable lewdness that I started to cry.

"You definitely are a horny little bitch!" he scoffed, and then resumed
fucking my face with even more enthusiasm. I didn't get much warning when
he finally reached his climax. He just held my head down on his crotch and
filled my mouth with three or four spurts of cum. "Take that, you faggot
whore, take all that cum in your nasty faggot mouth!" he screamed. The
acrid taste of his semen contrasted with the milder boyish sperm I had
tasted earlier, but I just swallowed it all down anyway.

As soon as he regained his breath, he just gave me a kick and barked "Get
your faggot arse out of here, you little pervert!" I went back out into the
sunny sidewalk, hoping that the small wet patch on the crotch of my beige
shorts would quickly dry out.

In that same morning, I had gone from sucking off boys my age to blowing a
man old enough to be my grandfather. My only small consolation was that at
least my arse-pussy had been miraculously kept out of trouble.