Date: Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:33:23 EDT
From: Park517@aol.com
Subject: As Flies to Wanton Boys Five

"As Flies to Wanton Boys," the story that follows in multiple episodes,
appeared ten years ago as my first submission to the Nifty Archive. Its 46
pages are still there: /nifty/gay/adult-youth/divine-neglect under the
title "Divine Neglect" for readers who want to consume the whole thing in
one sitting.  That 1999 version, slightly edited and revised, will now
appear in shorter takes and, because several readers were unhappy about the
way things ended, new chapters follow.

[DISCLAIMER: The following completely fictional story, the sole copyright
for which belongs to the author and translator, contains explicit
depictions of sex between men and should not, therefore, be read by anyone
under the legal age of consent in whatever jurisdiction or by anyone
offended by homoerotic and/or pornographic material.  It is forbidden to
post the text electronically or disseminate it in any manner without
permission of the copyright holders.  The author welcomes comments which
the translator, -- park517@aol.com -- will forward at his discretion.]


DIVINE NEGLECT    	Chapter Five


As I mused, I felt Rifat's hand on my arm, stroking me lightly, fondly.
"Mitya," he asked, "would you like to undress me?  These jeans do have
holes," he giggled, "but they're not in the right places."

	I sat up on the edge of the bed and hugged him to me.  I wiggled a
finger through the rip on his backside and poked the springy flesh of his
rump.  "I could just widen this opening," I suggested.  "Then you wouldn't
have to take off these things you like so much."

	"You would have to make the hole very wide if you are going to put
my flying buttress into it," he fingered the object in question through the
fly of my drawers, "and then your soldiers would laugh at me tomorrow.  And
maybe at you."

	"It's strange, Rifat, I think they already know.  About us, I mean.
And they don't make fun of us."

	"They respect you too much."

	"No, I think they love you, too.  Yesterday they were ready to kill
you, and today they want to adopt you."

	"They just like my cooking."

	"No, they see the same thing in you that I do."

	"My buttress?"

	"Don't joke.  They see your youth, your warmth, your spirit and
your suffering.  Didn't I see Voinovic playing with your hair in front of
the TV set."

	"And he kissed me good night.  On the cheeks.  You won't be
jealous?"

	"Not if you let me kiss you on these cheeks."  I fondled his
behind.

	"If you undress me first.  I don't want you to dirty your lips on
my jeans that you don't like so much.  Please, Mitya, let's make love.
Without clothes.  Here in the moonlight.  And you can teach me what a
buttress is and how it flies."

	I nodded my agreement because the lump of desire in my throat
suddenly made it hard for me to speak.  One by one I undid the buttons on
his shirt and, when his chest was uncovered, I licked it from his throat to
his navel, tweaking his nipples lightly and tonguing them till they stood
almost painfully erect.  As he shivered a little from the contact, I
dropped to the floor and stripped off his shoes and socks, crouching to
kiss his feet and ankles.  Next came the jeans, easily opened at the waist
and the fly but tight enough on him so that I had to tug a little before he
could step out of them and present himself to me in just the clinging red
briefs that his erection strained against.

	But as I pressed my mouth eagerly to the cloth and the tumescence
it covered, Rifat pulled my head away.  "Last night," he said, "I was your
prisoner, and it was very nice.  Tonight, you will be my prisoner, and it
will be just as nice.  Do you agree, your insignificance?"

	"I have been your prisoner almost since I first saw you," I
answered.  I crouched to kiss his feet again.  "I belong to you
completely."

	"Then you belong naked."  He pulled my undershirt over my head.
"Take off those silly drawers.  Somebody put too much starch in them.  They
must be very uncomfortable."

	"It is not easy these days to find good help in Kosovo," I said as
I rose and got out of my shorts.  "There," I exclaimed, "I am naked.  Do I
suit the warden?"

	"Come over to the window," Rifat took my arm, "and let me make
sure."  He ran his hands over my chest and then turned me to knead the
flesh of my buttocks and turned me again to lift my testicles in both his
cupped hands and press them gently against my penis, now rigid and
thrusting toward him.

	Letting go of my balls, he ran his finger tips the length of my
shaft, pausing short of the tip and pressing down here and there as though
feeling for some irregularity.  "Prisoner," he asked, "has someone been
biting your manliness?"

	"Love bites," I answered.  "They didn't hurt.  I hardly felt them
at the time."

	"I'm glad to hear that.  But it seems to me that this," he gripped
my cock hard, "is extremely large for a prisoner to carry around.  A little
nibbling might make it more suitable."

	"As a former medical student, I would advise against nibbling.
Heat and moisture might shrink it more effectively."  We were both
giggling.  His grin was so adorable that I bent and caught his lips in mine
for a long, happy kiss.

	"You are very undisciplined for a prisoner, but your ideas are
interesting," Rifat said when we broke apart.  "Why don't you kneel down
and try your theories on me.  You're the one who says people should always
finish what they start."

	Instantly back on my knees, I drew his underwear down and caught
his cock in my lips as it sprang from the crotch-hugging briefs.  Rifat's
body quivered gently as I wrapped my tongue around the swollen head of his
penis and swabbed its especially sensitive underside.  Tightening my lips
on the shaft, I rode up and down it for several strokes pausing at the end
of each to give the organ an instant or two of freedom before I repossessed
it in a curl of my tongue.

	"Prisoner," Rifat's voice was husky with sexual excitement, "I
think your experiment should stop."  He stepped away from me.  "Your theory
about heat and moisture does not seem to work in practice.  I am definitely
not shrinking.  And if you go on like this, I am likely to burst."

	"Would that be so bad?  You burst last night, and it was
delicious."

	"But I have other plans for my deliciousness tonight," he laughed.
Then his tone changed.  "Mitya," he crouched down in front of me.
"Shouldn't sex be very serious?  Why do we make a game of something most
people think is disgusting and sinful?"

	"Maybe most people are wrong.  For a long time most people thought
the earth was flat and a goddess was in charge of the moon.  Even if you
and I were the only people who made love-making fun and funny, we could
still be right and everybody else wrong."

	"But love isn't funny.  What I feel for you actually makes me hurt.
It's so strong that I ache when I look at you naked and I suffer when I
can't look at you at all."  He put his arms around my neck and whispered in
my ear.  "I adore you.  I adore you, Mitya, and I want you to swallow me up
so that I can always be with you."

	"I was trying to swallow you, my adoring, adorable love, and you
stopped me," I answered.  "Rifat," I put my arms tight around him.  "My
love for you doesn't hurt me.  It redeems me.  When I look at you or think
of you, I feel that I have a purpose in life and that life has a purpose
and that you are its center.  And I want you inside me, too, but if you
won't let me swallow you with my mouth, you'll just have to come in another
way."

	"Do you really want me to do that?"

	"I am your prisoner.  I want you to treat me the way I treat my
prisoners."

	"Prisoners?  Have you had many?  I thought there was just Ivo."

	"And a beautiful Muslim boy."

	"Women?"

	"Yes."

	"Many?"

	"No."

	"This interrogation could last a very long time if the prisoner
holds things back.  And," he dropped his hands from my neck to my crotch
and locked them around my scrotum, "we have ways of making people talk."

	"I will tell you everything you want to know, your fiendishness, if
you will let me stand up.  My knees hurt."

	"You may not stand up for long.  I will allow you to lie down,
though, on the bed, on your back, and I will sit on you and pinch you in
various painful places if I think you are not being honest."

	And that's what he did.  He arranged me with my arms by my side in
the middle of the bed and climbed up on me so that his knees were on either
side of my hips.  He bent down and kissed me -- "because your mouth amuses
me," he giggled -- and then took my penis in his hand and gave it a tug.
"You are to begin, prisoner.  Confess, and I will see that your punishment
is not too severe."

	He wanted to know about my sex life, and I told him.  I had had
fumbling teenage romances with a couple of girls but no real love-making
until Ivo.  And after Ivo went away, I met a girl at the university who
took me to her bed and taught me that perfumed, cushioned, yielding, female
bodies could also be supremely exciting to hold and lick and penetrate.

	"What part of her was most exciting?"

	"Under her breasts and the insides of her thighs."

	"And where you put my buttress?"

	"She made me wear condoms.  There were some wonderful sensations,
but I wasn't in love with her.  It was not like making love last night to
you."

	"Was she very beautiful?"

	"Demi Moore. Julia Roberts."

	He pinched my left nipple hard.  "The truth."

	"Her body was young, her hair was beautiful, but she had one
squinty eye and a suggestion of a mustache."

	"I have a suggestion of a mustache."

	"You have no such thing."  I ran a finger along his upper lip.  "A
little soap and water and no more suggestion."

	He laughed and stretched out on my chest.  "Will you stop loving me
when I do grow a big mustache?"

	I put my hands under his rump and stroked his buttocks.  "I already
told you, I will love you when you grow a belly.  I will love you if you
snore.  I will love you even if you grow hair in your ears."  I kissed him
hard and released his behind so that I could hold his head still as I
pushed my tongue into his mouth.  He squirmed with pleasure, and I felt the
hot cylinder of his erection poking against my leg.  I went on.

	"Rifat, there have been other girls.  Some were very nice.  I lived
with one for almost half a year, and we are still good friends."

	"Then why do you fuck boys?"

	"I don't fuck boys.  You are only the second, and I love you.
That's why I have sex with you.  But I would even love you if we didn't
make love."

	"Would you love me if I had sex with girls?  I would like to, but
not if it would make you angry."

	"Haven't you already?"

	"No."  A bit sheepish.  "Our town was small, and all the girls had
brothers and fathers."

	"Well, you should try.  I would not be upset unless you fell in
love with someone else.  Sex with girls is like tennis or sailing.  It's a
sport.  Unless it becomes serious."

	"What about sex with other men?  Just for sport.  Would that be all
right?"

	"My love, you are so beautiful that I'm sure other men will want to
go to bed with you.  You are the only one who can decide if it's right to
have sex with them.  If you can love me while you are in the arms of
another man, then you should be free to do it.  I couldn't.  I love you too
much to share myself with anybody else."

	"Oh."  He was silent for a while, and his erection dwindled.  He
lifted himself off me and lay down beside me, crooking one arm to support
his head while he looked in my eyes.  "Mitya, that is the way I love you,
too.  My questions were not serious.  They were silly."

       He pressed his mouth to my throat and with his free hand toyed with
the patch of hair on my chest.  "I am an inexperienced boy.  I have never
played tennis or gone sailing," he said.  "And as long as you will love me,
I will never need anything or anybody else."

       I rolled onto my side so that our bodies faced one another and I
reached into his crotch.  "Now I know how to shrink you." I said, finding
his penis lying limp on his balls.  "No nibbling.  No heat.  No moisture.
Just talk.  Shall we see if I can make you grow big again in total
silence."

       "That might be interesting."  He grasped my equally relaxed member.
"It's hard to tell," he chuckled, "but you seem to have shrunk some.  Will
you let me give you the silent treatment, too?"

       We ended up with my head pressed between his thighs and his between
mine, each holding the other's cock, licking it, warming the slippery tip
with gusts of breath, pulling it between our lips into the heated hollows
of our mouths.  I bathed his testicles as well, pressing his rigid penis up
against his flat belly and, at one point, managing to get his entire sac
into my mouth.  I raised one of his legs and kissed and licked the skin
along his thighs, just as satin smooth as a girl's and, judging by the way
he twisted in my grip, just as sensitive.

	"The prisoner is trying to avoid his punishment," he gasped.
"Aren't you?"

	"Am I?"

	"Yes, you want to make me burst before I buttress you."

	"Is that to be my punishment?"

	"And my pleasure."

	"Then, it will be mine too.  But Rifat, I am not as brave as you.
I bought something in town today that is better than saliva."

	"Lady's skin lotion?"

	"No, just petroleum jelly.  The jar is on the table by the bed."

	He reached across me and opened the small container I'd been so
pleased to find in the local pharmacy.  He scooped out a gob and scooted to
the foot of the bed.  "Lie back, prisoner, and raise your legs," he
ordered.  "Higher and wider.  That's good."

       His hand went into the cleft between my spread buttocks and his
fingers started to smear the jelly around, then on and then into my anus.
The invasion was abrupt, and I flinched as he penetrated me.  "Am I hurting
you, Mitya?  I am so clumsy," he apologized.  He pulled out, and I winced
again.

       "No, dear love, you are gentle and wonderful.  Only no one has
touched me there in a long time.  Please, don't stop.  I want you inside
me, all of you, all the way inside."

       With greater caution, he resumed his exploration and soon had two
fingers in my rectum and the tip of one against my prostate.  "Oh, oh," I
exclaimed, "Rifat, you are doing wonderful things to me."  I groped for the
jar and found it and coated my own fingers.  "Let me put some more of this
on you and then come into me."

       He guided my hand to his cock and waited while I greased its stiff,
anxious length.  Then, as I held my legs high and far apart he braced
himself on his arms, leaned over and into my body and slowly, lovingly,
masterfully pushed his way in.  I was so delighted to have him possess me
that I ignored the pain of his entry, concentrating only on the joy of
belonging to him, of having him invade and fill me.

       "This is better than dog style," he said when he was so completely
lodged in my ass that I could feel his pubic hair.  "If you raise your head
and I lower mine, we can kiss."  We did, long and deeply while his cock
seemed to grow even bigger inside me.  As our lips separated, he began to
pump up and down with short, leisurely strokes at first, then longer ones
and at a slowly accelerating pace that soon became urgent and then fierce.

       There is a moment in the sex act when however much a man cares for
his partner, he passes from tenderness to pure, self-centered, animal lust.
Panting on top of me, the boy I loved, the boy who loved me gave himself
over to that furious appetite.  I became just the human sheath for his cock
and the receptacle for the explosive release of his seed.  "Yes!" he
exulted as he came the first time.  "Yes, yes!  Incredible!"

       He gave a final thrust and then lowered his face to mine again.
"Mitya, thank you.  You are wonderful to fuck.  You are wonderful to love.
I release you from prison," he raised himself so that his wilted penis
rested on me but no longer in me, "if you promise never to run away."

       I lowered my legs to wrap them around his waist and hugged him to
me.  "I promise.  Rifat, you are wonderful to love, too.  I will never run
away because I am your prisoner forever."

       "I am so happy," the boy breathed into my ear, "I want to make you
happy, too.  But Mitya, I am also a little sore in my rear end.  Could I
just nibble on you instead?"

       "I did hurt you last night!  Damn! I wish you had told me then.  I
could have stopped.  I asked you to tell me.  And, of course, you can do
anything to me that you want."

       "Then I want you to stand up and I will kneel down in front of you
between your very hairy legs and I will nibble you and heat you and
moisturize you till you burst."

       I did and he did.  He kissed his way up my legs and washed my balls
with an ingenious tongue and reinserted a finger in my ass and ran his lips
along and around my cock until I was quivering and holding onto his head to
steady myself.  "Rifat," I managed to say, "either you should bite me again
or let me into your mouth and hold me there.  I am going to burst very
soon."

       Without answering, he parted his lips over the tip of my penis and
vacuumed it into his mouth.  There, his tongue circled it, slapped it and
warmed it.  His hand pumped me hard, and my hips pumped my manhood back and
forth through his slick fingers until I exploded deep into his throat.
Just as he had done to me a few minutes earlier in the grip of passion, I
forgot that I was using the mouth of a boy I loved to gain gratification
and release.  I pushed my cock too hard and too far and suddenly Rifat was
gagging noisily and clutching violently at my legs.  I pulled back, free of
his lips but still ejaculating, and hoisted him upright, pounding his back
to help him either swallow or expel the overload of my come.

       "My darling boy," I said.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  Can you
breathe?  I'm so thoughtless, so selfish."

       Voiceless, he jerked his head up and down, then sideways.  Finally,
he clutched my shoulders and gasped, "Not selfish.  No.  Very strong.  Very
full.  Wonderful.  Like a god."

       He pushed me to the bed.  "Lie down, my very strong god," he said.
"I should clean myself.  I'll be right back."  And he disappeared into the
hallway as I sprawled there, joyous and fulfilled.  And tired.  I must have
dozed, because the next thing I recall is feeling Rifat slide his body next
to mine and rest his head in the hollow of my shoulder.