Date: Tue, 12 Jul 2005 10:27:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: whoring student life 2

Most of this story is no fiction...whoohahahah and lots have been added to
it as fiction, for you a guess, for me a knowledge what is
invented...hwoowhwhwh!!

My mum's was worried sick, when I had returned home; she gave me a good
hiding. Thereafter I tried avoided looking at my boy's hopping arse. I said
avoiding, but of course I couldn't. One day during recess, I had followed
him into the toilets. He was standing there alone, I like tow meters away
with one fat boy in-between us. The fat boy looked at my cock once and then
turned to look at Luc's. Then glanced at his. Nothing happened. Luc
finished peeing and strolled out of there. I went inside a cubicle and
started pulling my cock, which was wet with precum. I couldn't hold any
longer, I rubbed and rubbed 'till I squirted the whole fucking pot full of
my cum. I leaned against the wall, getting my head together.

What is happening to me? I thought, why can't I be a normal guy chasing the
girls. Why is my life such a hellhole? I was only fifteen for god's sakes
and I thought of killing myself.

The boys of my age didn't interest me, I wouldn't even dream of getting my
mouth near their cocks, I loathed anything hairy. Of course this Turk had
taken me, but against my will, I consoled myself, and I was hot and
horny. He knew that.

A month later, I remembered, it was a Wednesday, so no class in the
afternoon. I decided to go to the movies. There wasn't much to choose
from. There was this small movie hall in the Rue Neuve, which drew my
attention. Tarzoon, shame of the jungle, said the billboard.

This sounded really interesting. The cashier wanted to see my ID, was I
really sixteen?

I told her I had none with me. She closed her eyes and said: ok, go in
then.

It was an old cinema, badly maintained. Only a few people sat there on
crummy chairs, no upholstery, nothing but pure plain wood.

The movie started. I was an animation movie made by Picha, I
remember. Tarzan named Tarzoon, because in America it was prohibited to
promote the movie as Tarzan, because they thought it an insult to Johnny
Weismuller.

Anyway, the movie showed me an army of marching pink cocks with dickheads
that looked like a German helmet. Their sperm hit anything alive and they
kidnapped Jane from Tarzan's home. Tarzan swung from tree to tree with
cheetah hanging from his dick with one hand. It was a laugh, until that man
appeared. He was wrapped up his duffel coat and took a seat to the extreme
left side of the row I sat in. I couldn't halt my curiosity and looked at
him. He looked at me. His face was fat and old looking. But he must have
been in his fifties or forties. He only sat five minutes, got up and walked
down the aisles to the bathroom. I felt something was going to happen. I
swear to god, I knew he was going tot come back and take a seat next to me.

Five minutes later this was exactly what happened. He sat real close, my
head close to his broad shoulders. The chairs were narrow and his elbow had
taken place next to my shoulder.

All of a sudden, I felt it pushing on my arm. I looked at him.

He smiled. Regarde (look), he whispered. Pointing at his lap. He had his
fly wide open and a throbbing cock stood there.

I pretended not to see, though I did from the corner of my eye. I kept my
face pinned at the screen. Another push: regarde, he said again, now he was
jacking off his dick. The chairs were croaking like hoarse women.

As a matter of fact I was surrounded by old women, only ten chairs away
from me and in the row behind me and two up front. I was embarrassed. Could
they hear this croaking?

He grabbed my hand and placed on his cock, I quickly pulled it back. He
grinned. I sat paralyzed, not knowing what to do. On the one hand, I was
flattered that men were interested in me and the thought of it made my dick
grow fast, on the other hand I was repulsed by the ugliness of the man and
his ugly dick. He whisked my hand again and put a note of hundred Belgian
franks in my hand. That was more then anything else I got at home for
pocket money.

He gave me a kiss on my cheek.

-Allez, viens, (come on then) he whispered. Suce moi un peu (suck me a
bit).

Was he serious? A hundred franks? For me to suck his dick empty?

The guy didn't wait long; he grabbed my hand while looking around to see if
no one saw what was happening, and clenched it around his chubby dick,
which was now real hard. It was uncut too. Was he another Moslem?  I pulled
really hard to get my hand off, but he kept it there, locked around the
dick and pushed it up and down.

I gave in and looked at the screen, I didn't want to see it. I just wanted
to see Tarzan getting his load off and the dickheads shooting their cum at
him.

-Allez suce (go ahead suck) he begged.

He had taken his hand away and I strangely enough didn't withdraw from his
cock. My haircut was like that of a pageboy from the middle ages. I think
it attracted men, but I had no idea why. I didn't like myself at all, I
wasn't pretty, I was sure of this.

He took out his wallet and grabbed three notes out of it and put it in my
jacket pocket. I had four hundred now. He was paying me for sex, sex I
didn't want. But I was poor. I looked at the old women; no one seemed to be
aware of something. His hand touched my chin and tugged it his way. He
smiled again. He moved his arm around my shoulders. Gosh, it looked as if
we were lovers now. But his hand didn't touch my shoulder on the other
side; instead it cupped my skull and pushed me down to his waiting cock.

I opened my mouth and a strained my lips over it. He pushed my head up and
down, squeezing occasionally my neck, and then he ran his fingers near my
lower back where he pulled my shirt out of my pants. His fingers went down
like an eel to my crack. I kept on hauling his cock into my wet mouth.  His
index finger had reached between my buns and tried to rub me there. It
wasn't going fast enough with the sucking, because his other arm pushed my
head deeper and increased the rhythm of yoyo head. I nearly threw up when
he hit his big knob up my tonsils; he had increased his hip movements too
and shot all he had. I spit it out because it was gross. He cleaned his
cock with a hanky, buttoned up his fly, got up and said: aurevoir (goodbye)
with a happy grin on his face.

Her I was, with cum in my mouth and four hundred franks richer. Who would
believe this, could I ever face my mum with this conscience?

I sneaked out of the cinema like a thief caught red handed. I had seen the
end of the movie like everyone else, but I had one secret more, something I
couldn't share with my best friend.

It was days after when I still hadn't digested my true self. I had become a
whore boy at fifteen and no one knew about it. Just me, it was a heavy
burden on my mind, as a matter of fact I simply couldn't be the boy I was
at school. When I looked at my schoolmates, they seemed to live in absolute
innocent world of study and girls. A person I didn't even know had raped me
in my mouth. Was that love? What the fuck! Love? It was plain sex, sex for
money. It was lust and horniness mixed with longing for daddy love.

I looked at my Luc playing outside in his same tight white gym shorts and
thought of how I could take him, the way I had been taken by this
guy. Would he accept money for sex? Could he be coerced to it by aggressive
behavior?

Somehow, the more I thought of it the worse it got, I got addicted to men
who like me. Just the feeling being liked, wanted and sought after, made me
proud and gave me a kind of self-esteem.

 Every Wednesday I would roam through the streets in Brussels. I told my
mum we had special classes 'till nighttime for further improvement of
art. It was an option I told her, for me to study live models, who during
normal class couldn't pose for us. My mum believed it.

It was until a month later when I discovered a place called Place Fontainas
and a garden in le Botanique, where a middle-aged man approached me.

-Tu fais le tapin? (are you whoring?) he asked, winking at me and stroking
his crotch.

-Like them I said, pointing at the Moroccan whore boys who were involved in
discussing the price with a customer.

-How much?

-Thousand, I said.

-Thousand? He asked like in a shock. What do you do for this? You suck and
get you laid, or you fuck me?

-Yeah, everything. I lied.

I had too, I needed the cash, but more I needed his caressing, his
attention.

He was handsome, we chatted for a while and then he invited me into his
car. It took like an hour before we reached his apartment. On the seventh
floor I found his love nest. He took my clothes of in the most gentle way,
caressed my butt like an angel, no rudeness, no brutality. His legs were
hairy and so was his butt. We were both stark naked; then he started to
embrace me allover. Caressing each other like that- I didn't actually, this
was my problem: I simply couldn't love men. Something he found out soon.

-Are you active or passive? He wanted to know.

-I don't know, I lied.

 I felt his voice getting angry or irritated.

 I didn't want this, I only wanted to be loved, but I knew there had to be
a return.

-Look, he said, I took you all the way up here, not for a chat, don't waste
my time, I could have taken that Moroccan kid, but I like white boys
better.

He pushed me under the shower; his cock sprang up against my crack, moving
in slowly. He soaped me in and soon I was full of suds and bubbles. The
soap smelled wonderful, mingling with the sweat form his armpits. He bit me
in the neck and pushed harder.

-Open up kid, don't resist like that, I want you now.

As he said this, I felt his hot dickhead slide inside forcing my love
tunnel open. His cock had found a refuge and didn't seem to want let go of
me. It seemed to last hours, the hot water refreshing my hair and soft
skin. His cock was broad and hard like steel, I had to stand on my toes to
avoid it coming higher up, but he had me skewered like red meat. He moved
and sighed and bit in my ears. He sucked me allover. His hands were on my
hips. Descended to the front side where he started tearing my foreskin
down, squeezing the glans real hard.

His cock flopped out of my crack like nothing. Without a word he turned me
around and took hold of my head, pinned it down on his penis and jutted his
hips forward.  My mouth was aching and thoughts of my future running amok
in my brain. I realized that this would be my life now. I had become a
whore boy.

He came in heaps of sperm splurging over my face, while moaning like a
bitch.

We dried ourselves. I cashed in and got down with the elevator. It was dark
and full moon. I ran for the tramway, hopped only to disappear in the
crowded vehicle. My arse sored.

I met many men, good ones and bad ones, cheaters and abusers, but I
couldn't tell with my hand on my heart whether I was truly that innocent
myself. I stood there on Wednesday at the park in raggedy shorts, stroking
my crotch, occasionally showing it to an interested customer. I had learned
the tricks and the trade. I was a pro. I was only lucky that those days
Aids wasn't around yet. I had gotten used to pubic hair as something I had
to accept and couldn't avoid. They weren't boys, ok, but hey gave me sex
and attention.

I got so much obsessed with sex that I could hardly refrain from abusing my
brother, who was in the army that time. He was eighteen, but his thin
underdeveloped body, looked much younger. One of those nights, when he came
home for the weekend, I was waiting for him. I pretended to sleep. Our room
was glacial cold and I was buried under three blankets with a hot water
bottle at my cold feet. He undressed and got in. We both wore pajamas. Of
course he would first read his comics with the light on the night table on.

Finally he switched off the light and closed his eyes. I waited half an
hour observing all kinds of breathing from heavy to light or snoring. Yes,
he did snore at times, a congested nose I think.

I turned on my side facing his back. First I pressed my finger on his upper
arm. No reaction whatsoever followed. After a few times pressing there, I
lowered my finger to his back, ending up at his bottom. I dared to pinch
him now. Still nothing happened. My mouth was dry with excitement of doing
something dangerous. I knew for certain he was deeply sleeping. I peeled
off the blankets and looked at him. He lay there as a baby with his legs
slightly in fetus position. He had not yet any hairs announcing the start
of what could become a mustache. I pushed a finger near his loins. He
moaned and rolled on his back.

-Great, I though, that's how I want him.

In a daring gesture, I got hold of his crotch, just placing my hand right
there, making it real light.

I pressed a little more; by now I had my fingers looking for his balls and
cock. I felt his cock swelling, and the cock muscle pushing back my finger
answered every pressure I gave there.

Stealthily I got his elastic waistband rolling down, tugging at the sides
of his pajamas. I stopped short of pulling them over his knees. He never
used underwear in bed. This was a piece of cake now. I looked at the
treasure I was looking for. It was up for easy grabs, still risky thought
that he could wake up. I passed my hand again caressing his tiny nut sac
and dribbled my fingers over to his cock. I t was rock hard, but real
small, unlike mine. His cock was the size of that of a twelve years old,
and that's what I liked about my brother. On a blue Monday I had spied on
him once, when he was jacking off in the bedroom. He had locked the door
and I asked him to open up, he said no, I wondered why so I took a look
through the keyhole and there I saw my bro wanking, looking at porn
magazines. He had no idea I had seen hem.

Now he lay there in all his glory. White thighs like mine, a teeny-weeny
cock begging to be sucked. Looking back at it, I must have been crazy to
put my mouth over it. Can you imagine if he had ever woken up seeing me
doing this? Various times I did this to him and until today I cannot
believe he never felt anything. Could he have faked sleeping, can one rally
get a hard on when you suck them in his sleep?

I spat in-between his thighs, near his arse hole and drove his legs
apart. I actually physically took them in my hands pulling them apart and
he continued sleeping. My head went full speed, his cock twitching against
my every lick of my tongue. I was a great taste.

Of course I didn't let him come, he could wake up, I thought, but I
squirted my underpants full with cum, in no time. The last time I did him,
I had been bold enough to cut a curl of his pubic hair away. For me it was
a souvenir of that night and a proof that I had humiliated him. It needs
explaining that my brother always bullied me and he had been the first one
to fuck me when I was seven.

I kept dreaming of my little boy at school so, I decided to try my luck and
pay a visit to Abdul on another Wednesday.  But that was months later in
springtime. The Wednesday I followed him, Luc was wearing very tight
jeans. God where are those days? These baggy trousers that youngsters wear
today totally turns me off: the asexual society in fashion.

Anyway, he left early like I did, but I refrained from following him. I
knew where he lived anyway, so it was just a matter of common sense
thinking.

I rang the bell and Abdul opened up.

-Gosh, Alex, that's a long time ago, come in.

Take your coat of. God you look smart and well.

He sized me up and stared at my crotch again. He hadn't changed, but I
had. I had become sort of street smart.  He thought of me as the innocent
youngster.

-Why have you waited that long to visit me?

-Long story, Abdul and many problems at home, I answered, which was partly
true in a way.

Abdul didn't wait long before he had his hands on my dick. I t was out
before I could say yes. I wasn't going to charge him because we had a deal
somehow.

-While he was sucking my dick in all earnest I said: Abdul I want Luc today
in bed with me.

-Mmmh, he mumbled, still latched on my dick.

Then he lifted his head and asked: today?

-Yes today.

-I spoke to him and his dad last week. He has been here at my place to
watch TV, a couple of times, but I had not dared to touch him.

-I will I said.

-Wow, you are bold, where is the bashful Alex I knew two months ago?

-Gone with the wind I laughed.

-Ok. I'll ring him up.

-Ring him up? He lives right over here.

-Yes, but it's more personal.

Soon the number was dialed.

-Hi, Luc? How are you, he said on the phone. Really? Howe nice...are you
bored?...why?

No, one at home, just the dog? Ow, too bad.  Hey listen, why don't you come
over, I have friend here who wants to know you. He loves to play
too. That's fine, in half an hour then.

The horn went back on the hook.

-He will be here soon; he's going to take a shower.

Half an hour later Luc rang the bell indeed.

He was wearing red shorts out of which his slender suntan colored legs
seemed to grow.

I had a lump in my throat as he greeted me.

-Alles goed (everything ok), he asked in Flemish.

-Ja ja, I said eagerly.

It didn't take long to explain him that I went to the same school. He too
had noticed me a couple of times, he said. Ok, that was it then. He knew
about my existence before but never really talked to me. We sat down opened
up the stratego game, which he won in no time.

One hour had passed and felt I couldn't control my thoughts. The reason why
he'd won the game was because I had all my attention his face, his lovely
curls of hair and the thought of feeling his bum and little cock in my
hands.How to get him in bed? Abdul, can we go up the room show him your
post stamp collection?

-Yes, 'course you can, go ahead, feel at home.

Off we went like birds flying over the stairs.

There were no stamps, really, but my plan was bold.

Sit down her, Luc. I have to find it first, he hides everything well.

He got up and looked through the window instead. He saw the telescope...

-Is he looking at stars every night?

-Yes, he is, and at other things.

I opened up the drawer and pulled out the portfolio.

I closed the door. It was getting dark outside so I closed the curtains
too.

-Are you cold, Luc?

-No, Alex, you?

-No just a bit hot, let's take our jumpers off.

-Ok, you are right, it is hot in here. The sun is on this side the whole
day.

He sat next to me on the bed; his legs open wide like a real boy.

-I think this is his post stamp album.

-You may look first.

As I handed over the book, he beamed with prided.

But this beaming face got pale white with shock when he looked at the
picture of his genitals.

-What is this?

-A Mickey, I guess, with balls, don't you see?

-Yes, but this is not a stamp album.

-Look at the next picture.

-Now he saw himself getting screwed by his half brother.

-That's me!! He gasped. Who took this picture?

-Who do you think? I smirked.

His hand trembled. He took another picture: him with his hands over his
dick.

He closed the book and stared questioningly at me.

-Listen Luc, no one will know about it, just us. Now give me the book and
you lie down on your back. Let me take your shorts off.

Luc said nothing. The shorts came off like nothing and then his tight
underwear too.

-I have been dreaming of this for months, Luc.

While I said this I was getting undressed too. You are my favorite boy at
school.

Let me love you like your half brother.

Two small bodies got together, warming up, rubbing milking each other,
saliva exchanged between adolescent mouths. I kissed him so long, which
left us breathless.

We both bobbed each other. It was sixty-nine position, which made us all
exited.

-I love you Luc.

-I love you too, Alex. You are much sweeter than my half brother and your
dick is not that big as hid.

I moved in his mouth more rapidly now so he couldn't speak no more. I
licked the arse sweat of his with glee and burning desire. I could eat him
alive. Then Abdul came in a started taking picture of us from all sides. We
didn't mind, it was his pleasure in his rightful way

-Beautiful, he said as I squirted in Luc's mouth.

-You are e a pro too, Luc, aren't you?

Luc nodded, while continuing licking my balls and arse.

-Now my turn Abdul said and pulled me off Luc.

Abdul brought his lips close to the little pecker that wanted more.

While he did this he was wanking mine. I came again in lesser squirts of
course, but it came all the same gingerly. His fingers went up Luc's arse
and spread it wide followed by driving his boner up the Luc's
'asrsehole. It was a site to behold; it was the luckiest day of my life.

Luc and Abdul came together at the same time. Pure magic. But Abdul was
more interested in me, I felt, Luc was too young for his taste, just good
enough for secret pictures to wank over. But I was happy with both and
became a regular visitor ever since.



You want more of my artstudent'life

Write to Aihufist@yahoo.com