Message-ID: <213329Z09041994@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.motss
From: an33797@anon.penet.fi (Phil McCrackin)
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.motss
Organization: Anonymous contact service
Reply-To: an33797@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat,  9 Apr 1994 21:31:16 UTC
Subject: STORY: A Night With Bud Bundy (mm, drugs, roughness)
Lines: 418


**************************************************************************

			A NIGHT WITH BUD BUNDY

                           a story by Phil

**************************************************************************


NOTE: This story depicts homosexual acts, minor violence, drug use, and 
blatant anti-family situations. If these things offend you, then you should 
exit now.









I was driving along on Interstate 90, on my way to pick up Kelly Bundy. I had
been scoping out Polk High for the past week, and her name came up in a 
discussion of the "easy" types. One day at lunch, I met her: a cheap peroxide
slut. Nice! We set up a date: Friday, 9PM.

At 8:56 I pulled into the driveway at the Bundy residence. I went to the door,
knocked, and a short, good-looking young man opened the door.

I spoke to him. "Hello, I'm Douglas. I'm here to see Kelly."

A strangely malicious smile came over his face. "Oh... she's out entertaining
her boyfriend."

I was overcome by shock. "Hey... I AM her boyfriend... sort of. I was supposed
to pick her up tonight."

"Is that so? Well, why don't you come in and wait for awhile and see if she
shows up?" He still had that malicious smile.

"Are you that GNOME she was telling me about?" I asked. I wasn't worried
about any trouble from him; I easily had six inches and sixty pounds on him.

"I'm Bud. Bud Bundy. And you, my friend, have been stood up by the famous 
EZ-Stripper."

I took off my jacket. "Oh well... what are you watching?" It looked like a
Jeremy Jordan video.

He quickly snatched up the remote and turned it off, looking almost 
embarrassed. "Oh, nothing. Hey listen. Do you wanna go upstairs and go through
my sister's bedroom? I'd offer you some food, but Dad decided we should have
cable TV this month instead."

This will be interesting, I thought to myself. "OK, let's dig up the dirt
on her."

So we went upstairs, and we walked by a room that had a large Erasure poster
on the door. Bud said, "This is my room. I've got some cool CDs... and that 
new one from GWAR."

"Are you an Erasure fan?"

"Uh, yeah. It's kind of funny though, when he's singing love songs to another
guy." Bud opened his door, and we walked in. Sitting in the middle of the floor
was a bong. As soon as he saw it, he rushed to hide it. I stopped him.

"Don't worry. I've got several of my own."

"Really? Well, I've got some good weed, if you wanna smoke a bowl."

"Well, Kelly is gonna be gone... I've got nothing better to do... OK."

He pulled a Ziploc bag out from under the sheets and blankets that lay 
crumpled at the foot of his bed. He opened it, packed the bowl, removed a 
lighter from his pocket, and took a hit. Then he offered it to me.

I glanced at the bong to figure out its mechanism, then I took a hit of my own.
I held it in until I thought my lungs would explode, then I blew it out in a 
coughing fit.

After a few more turns of this, we were both thoroughly baked. Time crawled to
a screeching rush. We just sat there on the floor, looking at each other. Then
a strange progression of thoughts entered my head. I began to look at Kelly's 
younger brother in a different way. He was actually quite attractive, despite
everything she had told me. I thought maybe it was just the weed, but my 
horniness for Kelly was refocusing itself on Bud. I imagined us together on an 
island, as I was ripping his shirt down the middle and taking him right there 
on the beach. I had never had sex with another male, but I had contemplated it 
quite often--even more than I thought about women. Bud and Kelly--they were 
both such beautiful children... I had to see what their parents looked like.

There was a silence in the room (we had forgotten to put on any music), and
I was not conscious of it until it was broken--by Bud.

"You know what we oughta do?"

I moved my eyes from his crotch to his face.

"There's this milk in the fridge. It's been there a long time. We should go 
SNIFF it."

"Huh?" I didn't understand.

"C'mon, let's go." He took me downstairs to the kitchen. He opened the door
to the refrigerator. It was completely empty except for a small opaque 
Tupperware container, and a gallon jug of something that used to be milk.

Bud took the jug to the counter and removed the lid. I could smell it from 
where I was standing. He sat down, put his nose directly over the open hole,
and inhaled. Then he leaned forward in his chair like he was about to vomit.

Suddenly he said, "Oh wow! The floor's MOVING! Dude, you gotta try this!"

Just then, a knock came at the door. Bud got up and went to answer it. There
was a short lady with no breasts who had her hair cut like a chicken's head.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. D'Arcy," said Bud.

"Don't 'Oh-Hello-Mrs-D'Arcy' ME, you PINWORM!" she said. "Normally, I can
tolerate the smell coming from this house, but tonight it's even worse than
usual... Your father must be here somewhere!"

"No, he's out with Mom. You must smell that!" Bud pointed to the milk carton.

"Oh, that's HORRIBLE! Close it up, NOW, before I call the police!" Then she
stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

"God, what a BITCH!" I said.

"Aaah, I don't care. It's easy money for me. Dad promised to give me five
bucks every time Marcy or Jefferson comes over and I tell them he's gone."

"Is he here?" I asked.

"No... but what difference does it make?" He closed up the milk and put it back
in the refrigerator. "Man, that's some STRONG SHIT!!!"

I went over and sat on the couch. I picked up the remote and turned on the
TV. There was a commercial advertising Buzz Clips on MTV. I looked back at
Bud, and noticed he was sitting at the table, looking at me... but no... it
was more like staring.

"What're you looking at?" I asked.

He waited a long time. "Dude... I'm getting like, really weird thoughts."

"Yeah. Mixing pot and milk curds does that to you." I walked over to the 
kitchen table. 

Bud fixed his gaze on me. "I think I've seen you somewhere."

"You look kind of familiar, too. It's like I've seen you on a TV show or 
something like that. You look like... umm... " I snapped my fingers. "David
Faustino. That's who."

"A gay guy once told me that I looked like David Faustino. He said I was cute."

Suddenly I was brought back into focus. "What did you do?"

"I did this..." and he grabbed my testicles. I was caught off guard. I felt 
discomfort, but not exactly pain. 

"Hey, you FAGGOT!" I pulled back.

He stood up. "Yeah, so what're you gonna do about it!?! You want a piece of me?
C'mon!"

"Well maybe I DO want a piece of you!" I pushed him back and pinned his body up
against the wall. I looked down at him, straight into his eyes. The expression
on his face was not fear, but rather... anticipation. A sense of knowing. A
thought passed between the two of us that all of this was just a game, but that
there was something else underneath.

Desire.

We both had it. Each of us knew that the other had it. I backed away from the
wall a bit, and he moved back with me. I felt his arms reach around my back and
embrace me. That same smile came back to his face. I leaned down to kiss him,
and all I knew was that I was holding the most beautiful boy in the world and 
he wanted me desparately.

We walked upstairs together, back to his room. After we went inside, he shut
the door. I stood there, looking at the mixology chart poster on the back of
his door. I turned to him just in time to see him pulling his shirt over 
his head, exposing first his treasure trail, then his navel, then his flat
stomach, then the bottom of his ribcage. Further up the shirt went, and Bud's
nipples came into view, and his hairy pits. He then discarded the shirt on the 
floor.

He reached back behind his neck to undo the gold chain, giving me another
view of his underarms. When he did this, his whole chest seemed to spread out
for me. His nipples, small and dark, had become quite hard. When he put his
arms down, his broad shoulders flexed wide, and his collarbone stood out above 
his chest.

Meanwhile, I was standing there in awe. I wanted him badly, all of him. Kelly
had become a distant memory. Now, Bud was my master, free to do whatever he
wished with me. He was watching my erection through my jeans, and I could see 
that he had developed one of his own. He walked over to where I was standing.

"Is this your first time with a MAN?" he asked, putting a very smug emphasis
on the word "man". Of course, I had no objection to the use of the word "man".
For the second time, he was close enough that I could catch his scent. He 
smelled like a man: the smell of sweat, cigarettes, and weed. His hand went up 
to the top button of my shirt, unfastening it. The only thing between our 
bodies was the rest of my shirt, and he took that away one step at a time.
As each button came undone, he ran his fingers through the hair on my chest, 
lower and lower each time. When he had unfastened the last button, he stuck
both hands inside my shirt and caressed my stomach with his thumbs.

It was mesmerizing, intoxicating in itself. My identity was slipping away, and
I had lost my sense of reality. I was jarred back when he spoke again.

"I asked you a question! Is this your first time with a MAN?"

"Oh! um... yes, actually." I breathed harder as he pulled the shirt free
from my jeans. He pushed it past my shoulders, and it slid down my arms
and dropped off onto the floor. We locked our arms around each other again,
and my hands found their way down his back into his jeans, each one stopping 
on one of his cheeks. Our mouths had covered each other, making an airtight
seal through which our tongues passed. As I squeezed on his ass, I heard him
give a muffled whimper. I answered with a whimper of my own, then I slid my
hands around to the front of his jeans, where I began to unbutton them.

His hardon was even more visible in his briefs. I rubbed my left index finger,
ever so slightly, up and down on his penis through his underwear. A drop of 
precum made a spot. He unzipped my jeans, reached through the fly of my boxers,
and fondled my penis directly. It jerked convulsively, and my whole body 
shivered.

Then he sat down on the bed, and began taking off his shoes and socks. I did 
the same, only I was standing up. I was still very stoned, so it was all the
more difficult. Once, I nearly fell. Then, after I had pulled my last leg
out of my boxers, I did fall, headlong into Bud.

I grabbed his underwear at the hips, and pulled down. His circumcised cock
was about seven inches, only slightly shorter than my own... but his was wider.
It stood out from a mass of dark pubes, with another drop of precum resting
on the slit at the top. I pulled his underwear past his ankles, then threw 
them off to the floor, so that all of our clothes had joined the disorder on
the floor. His naked body lay underneath mine, and he held his legs together 
while I straddled him. I watched his chest and stomach heaving up and down in 
time with my own rapid breathing. He squeezed his nipples and twisted them 
hard, turning them a bright red. He had a few hairs circling each nipple, and 
an almost-unnoticeable layer of hair in the middle of his chest. Further down,
a sprouting of hair rose from the hole of his navel and led to the base of his 
penis. 

"Fuck me," he whispered. Then a little louder: "Fuck me. Fuck me HARD!" He 
squeezed his thighs together, and pointed to them. "I want it THERE." I eased 
down on top of him, moved my penis to the space between his thighs, and THRUST.
I thrust again, and again.

Then I felt a dull pain in my side. He punched me again and said, "Faster,
you goddamn FAGGOT!" I drew one fist back, and buried it in his stomach.
He gasped, and I began humping him faster. Then he pushed me over on my back
and kneeled at my feet.

He crawled toards my crotch like a predator. With his mouth no more than two
inches from my cock, he bared his teeth and breathed on it. He took the head,
twirling his tongue around it, then he engulfed the entire shaft. He reached 
behind me, grabbing my ass cheeks and spreading them apart. As I felt a pair 
of moist fingers enter my asshole, I dug my hands into his dark-brown hair and 
started slamming his head down on me with a furious rhythm, pushing his nose 
into my pubic hair. I could then feel my climax coming on. With my moans of 
ecstasy building in intensity, I shot my load down his throat. He stopped 
fingering my ass and pulled his hands away, signalling me to stop, but I never 
relaxed my grip on his head, even though I could hear him gagging and he was 
waving his hands wildly in the air.

Finally, I let him get up, and I could feel his lower teeth scraping along
the underside of my penis, trying to extract the very last drop. He looked back
up, and then leaned forward on me. He kissed me, giving me back a mouthful of 
my own semen. Then he rested his head on my chest to regain his breath. I spit 
my jizz onto his shoulders and back, and rubbed it in.

We turned over, so I was on top now. I kissed him again, and my mouth migrated 
across his freshly-shaven chin and down his neck. I moved on to his left tit, 
nibbling off the hairs one by one. I made a trail of saliva from his left 
nipple to his right, and then nibbled off the hairs there.

I then moved down, and began tongue-fucking his belly button. This seemed to
cause him extreme pleasure, as he arched his back, grit his teeth, and started 
beating his fist against the mattress. He pushed his cock forward, trying to 
force it into the space between my neck and my shoulder. Then I took it in my 
mouth.

I had never tasted a penis before. His was sweet, and there was really no way
to describe how it felt except that it just felt ALIVE. I couldn't take it in
all the way like he had done to mine, and I felt guilty. I pulled it back, and
repeatedly scraped the back of the head against my teeth. With both hands,
he gripped the sides of the mattress and started giving out yelps of pleasure.

"Suck that fat cock, you son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled between breaths. His knee
came up and caught me in the chest. A few moments later, he said, "Wait a 
minute. I've got a better idea for you." He moved me over, then got up. He 
motioned to the headrest and said, "Grab it."

I got on my knees and took hold of the headrest, leaving my ass up in the air.
I couldn't bring myself to watch what happened next. I shut my eyes tight and
buried my face in the pillow. I felt his hands on my ass cheeks, and then 
something being rubbed around inside that I knew could only be Vaseline. A 
couple of fingers slid around and into my crack. They thrust in and pulled out 
several times. "How do you like that?" he asked.

"It feels good. Do it some more." Then I felt something settle at the very edge
of my asshole, which was then followed by a SHARP pain. I screamed, but it was
muffled by the pillow. The pain came again, piercing deeper. I was still quite 
stoned, but even that wasn't enough to block out this new pain. I felt as if I 
would explode from within.

Whenever I screamed, Bud screamed too, almost in mockery of me. He laughed at 
my pain, and groaned over his own physical pleasure. He grabbed my sides and 
pushed me out and back in rhythm, pushing himself deeper each time. I felt his 
arms come around underneath mine and he squeezed my nipples. As he continued to
lunge into me, I noticed something else: I was about to climax again. Every 
muscle in my body went stiff, and just after I felt my rectum become warm and 
wet, I had a sickeningly intense orgasm of my own, making a puddle on the bed 
while Bud continued to pump me full of his own cum. When he drew out, my 
insides suddenly felt very empty. We both collapsed in physical and psycho-
logical exhaustion, me on my stomach, and Bud lying on his stomach on top of 
me. The only sound in the room was our labored breathing.

I had more or less passed out. I was stirred back to consciousness when Bud
passed me a lit cigarette. He already had one of his own. We lay on the bed 
with our legs intertwined.

"So, how was it?" he asked.

I paused, took a drag, then exhaled. "Bud, I have never felt this way in my
whole life. We should go off to Hawaii and get married."

It was then that I noticed a strange odor in the air. A repugnant aroma that
was even stronger than the cigarette smoke.

"What's that SMELL--"

The door burst open. A fat balding man and a tall ghastly-looking redheaded
woman walked in. When the man saw us, his eyes flew open. He said, "What the 
HELL are you doing?"

Bud said, "Dad! Listen... nothing happened! I SWEAR!"

His father said, "No, I'm not talking about that... I can't handle that yet. 
I'm talking about you SMOKING!"

The woman sashayed over to the bed. "Your father's right. It's a filthy habit."

Bud looked at her scornfully. "YOU do it!"

His mother looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, but that's different. *I* have
INSURANCE. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."

His father spoke again. "Get out of my house."

"Yes sir," I replied.

"I'm talking to my SON!" he said. "Now I'm gonna give you girls five minutes 
to put your clothes on. Then you and Tinkerbell here can go find somewhere else
to spend the night. And I suggest you go get a Volvo so you can move all your
stuff out of here over the weekend!"

"Now Al," said his mother, "don't you think you're being a little severe? He
may be a homosexual, but he IS our son. Al, why don't we get him a *Pink*
*Cadillac* to move his things? Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Al smiled. "And then... then we can get him a tape of LIBERACE... so he can 
play it all the way to SAN FRANCISCO! Oh, ho-ho-ho!" They walked out, laughing.

"And when we go to visit him, he can do my HAIR..." Their voices faded down the
hall.

I couldn't believe we had been caught. I didn't know how old Bud was, but 
somehow I got the idea that Mr. Bundy could have had me arrested. But instead, 
he was throwing his own son out of the house... because of ME! Perhaps the 
situation could yet be salvaged!

I kissed Bud, then I got up and started dressing. I passed him his own clothes,
and when we were ready, we went downstairs.

I looked to the doorway and saw Kelly standing there, her arms around the man
she had spent the evening with. She said, "Oh, you're so much better than that
idiot Douglas would've been..."

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw me. "Oh, HI, Douglas! So nice of
you to come by! Would you like to meet--"

"Forget it, Kel. He's with me." Bud pulled my face down to his and our tounges
wrestled for half a minute. As we passed them walking out the door, he turned
to her and said, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bed-crabs bite!"

A minute or two later, Al joined us in the driveway. He faced his son and said,
"Bud, I want you to understand. I'm not throwing you out of my house because 
you're gay. The simple fact is: I can't stand you, and I can't support you. I 
was going to do this anyway!

"But son, I want you to know how PROUD I am of you! You've broken the Bundy 
curse! Since you're obviously never gonna be with a woman, you'll be happy for
the rest of your life! Now here's 500 bucks... I stole it back from your 
mother. Since I'm going to write you off for the rest of my life, it's the 
least I can do. So why don't you take your boyfriend and go see `Cats'?"

Bud took the money and put forth a shit-eating grin. "Gee Dad, THANKS!"

"Oh, one last thing, son." Al reached into the inside pocket of Bud's jacket
and pulled out his bag of weed. He looked at the bag, looked at Bud, snatched
the bag towards himself, and said, "GIMME THAT!" 


				The End

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