Date: Sat, 28 Jul 2012 13:52:24 -0700 (PDT) From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com> Subject: OLIVER'S ADVENTURE Chapter 8 ( Summer Job 2) by Donny Mumford OLIVER'S ADVENTURES Chapter 8 (Summer Job 2 ) By Donny Mumford The rain finally stops during my drive home Friday afternoon so the driving's easier now and that helps because I have a lot to think about. Some of the things I'm thinking about are good and others are worrisome, but overall I'm trying like hell to be optimistic. Frankie and I finally had that great spit swapping make-out with oral sex thrown in for good measure. As usual we did it in the back of the truck during today's afternoon break, and then the added surprise of Frankie inferring, more or less, that he's as hot for me as I am for him; well, maybe not as hot exactly, but hot just the same. Definitely room for optimism here. Frankie appears perplexed about what to do about the latest developments between him and me and I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to help him with that because I don't know what to do next either. It's all puzzling as hell and we're both flying blind with no experience and no one to guide us. But still, finally being on the same page with a mutual gay attraction is a huge step in the right direction. On the other hand, I never know what to expect from Frankie from one day to the next. He seems to change his mind a lot, rearranging priorities and so-forth. Frankie and me can't talk about our situation this weekend because Darleen has all of Frankie's time monopolized both days. That isn't good from my point of view 'cause she has a hold on him, but that's primarily because Frankie doesn't want to hurt her. I wish I could think of some way to convince Frankie he needs to start breaking away from her. Unfortunately their early history together clouds his thinking in a big way. I need some help and to that end I've decided to tell my brother Christian that I'm gay and about Frankie; I'm hoping Christian has some advice. It's the main purpose for me visiting him in Seattle next week. Christian has always been the one I go to with my problems and at this point I'm desperate for someone's advice. Talking with Christian about me and Frankie might be awkward, but it'll be a relief for me too. Often just talking things out with someone you trust and respect can be wicked helpful. Only thing is, I'm a little fearful he'll suggest I tell our folks about me being gay, which I'm not sure is the right thing to do just yet. I've got the weekend and next week to contemplate matters, but tonight I'm meeting up with some of the guys from last year's high school swim team. We're throwing a bachelor party for our ex-team's assistant swimming coach. He's getting married in two weeks. Coach Pools encouraged me all the years I was on the team and I want to show my appreciation by being there for his bachelor party. As usual I'm running late so when I finally get home from work I say a quick "Hi" to mom and dad, take a quick shower, go on-line quickly for directions, and then say a quick "bye". Then, with a quick wave and a smile, I'm on my way to the party. It's being held at a downtown restaurant location that I'm not at all familiar with and, even with directions, I get very lost trying to find the place and I end-up in a part of the city I never even knew existed. Looking around I see what appears to be teenage prostitutes, both boys and girls, drumming-up business. They motion in lewd ways as cars drive past them. A number of seedy looking strip clubs line both sides of the street and lots of twenty-something year old guys, with too much booze in them, mill around and talk crudely, thinking they're having fun. Garish neon signs blinking off the wet street offering vague promises of pleasure. I need to find my way out of here fast, but then someone catches my eye. It's a boy prostitute wearing eye liner and black lipstick dressed in boy's Gothic attire with spiked hair. Unusual for sure, but there's something about him that's familiar. In heavy traffic I pulled the Mini over to the curb to get a better look and the very boy I'd been staring at starts walking in my direction. My heart beat picks up speed when he makes a beeline to my car. Without a word, just a smirk on his face, the boy opens the passenger door and plops himself in my car's passenger seat, saying, " There's no mistaking this car. I gotta tell ya up front that it's going to cost you some money, Oliver. No freebies, sweetheart." I mutter to myself, "Oh my God, it's Myers". It's indeed Pattie's slightly chubby younger brother. I start in with the stuttering. "Wha, wha, what are you do do doing here, Myers?" He says, "Oh, shut-up with the phony questions. You're here for one reason, Oliver. Just drive." I mutter, "Nah, no! You got it all wrong." He laughs, then waves his hand dismissively, saying, "Bull shit! I've very highly developed gaydar and I 'outed you, in a manner of speaking, the first time you came to pick my sister up." Dumbfounded, I drive slowly away from the curb trying hard to make sense of this latest development. Myers commands, "Turn here and follow this road for a mile or so. There's a by-the-hour motel room you can rent. How much money you got on you?" Off the busy main road I spot a convenience store with cars in the parking lot so, ignoring Myer's instructions, I pull the Mini Cooper into a parking spot at the side of the building, away the other cars. Then, taking my time so I don't start stuttering again, I turn to look at him, and says emphatically, "It doesn't matter how much money I've got on me, Myers; you're not getting any of it." I tell him I'm lost and where I'm trying to get to, and ask if he knows how I can get there from here. Myers is incredulous, asking, "You don't seriously think I believe this horse shit story, do you?" I can maybe see his point, but I have the invitation in the glove box and I have the Map Quest driving directions too, which by the way are worthless. I show Myers the invitation and the directions and I can see the light going on in his head that he's the one who's screwed, not me. This knowledge, however, doesn't slow Myers down too much as he takes hold of the back of my neck and pulls my head towards him as he's leaning over to me. With his lips wetting my ear he whispered, "Do you want to be top or bottom. Either way will work, although I must tell you that I regularly whack off at home fantasizing about fucking you." Myers' outfit is all boy except for the eye liner and black lipstick, and I normally would have overlooked those two details to have sex with him because, I don't know why, but for some reason he makes me smile. There's just something about him that has always interested me. For one thing, the balls on this kid and for another thing he's sexy as hell. But, he is just seventeen, so I ask sarcastically, "Do your parents know where you're at tonight?" He tell me they think he's at the Mall. That's where they'd dropped him off, but he hitched over to the 'strip' for some action and to make a couple of bucks. I tell him I'm driving him back to the Mall and that I'll keep his little secret too. Myers, however, had no interest in my offer and instead he kisses me near my mouth and tells me how cute I am. He goes, "Okay, Oliver, I'll forget about fucking you, but I'd love for you to fuck me. How about a quickie?" This talk about fucking makes me realize how limited my real life sexual acts have been. The only boy I've ever fucked was Alexander, a grand total of five times and that quick remark from Myers about me fucking him makes me realize how much I'd like to fuck Alexander again. Of course I'd much prefer fucking Frankie, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. These thoughts fly through my brain in a flash. Now my concern Is: what to I do about Myers? He asks, "Well, will you fuck me, Oliver? How about if I say please?" With that he grabbed my crotch and touches my semi-boner that's come up as a result of me thinking about fucking Alexander. Pushing Myer's hand away gets him wrestling with me right here in my car with the stick shift between us. He's strong and he quickly gets me in a headlock with his left arm as he unzips my fly with his right. Reaching inside my boxer shorts he grabs my semi-boned cock to hold it in his fist. We're both breathing hard as Myers rasps out, "Oliver, you know you want this, so why be difficult?" He strokes my cock a few times and it feels real good. His arm continues squeezing around my neck in the headlock as he forces my face up lifting under my chin with the back of his hand that's around my neck. I can smell cherry Life Savers on his breath as he kisses me and works his tongue into my mouth with his black lipstick smearing on my lips feeling weird, like when I'm forced to make-out with Pattie. Myers is a serious kisser and he seems to be excited about kissing me. Looking down I see a significant tent in his lap. Remembering Pete's big cock, I think, 'Another big cock on another teen. What the hell....?' Talking through the kiss, sputtering, "For Christ sake Myers, stop this shit! This is crazy and you're going to get yourself in a lot of fucking trouble." He stops his efforts to kiss, but he leaves the side of his face against mine, saying, "Oliver, please. You make me so hot just thinking about you. Fuck me." He continues to casually stroke my cock and I'm beginning to get that feeling in my nuts. There's another thing I'm noticing too, right from the minute he got in my car he's had the slight body odor, as in "BO", I've noticed before on him too. To me his body odor isn't offensive so much as it's very sexy and right then and there I want him to make me cum with his fist so badly, but I make myself regain some sense, and say, "Stop right now and we'll talk about it." Myers stops wanking my boner, but continued to hold onto it. He loosens his arm around my neck and asks, "Really?" Each move Myers makes generates some of that youthful BO smell. Myers' BO floats in the air and has me a little dizzy. It's helping to keep my boner hard and I need to concentrate doing the right thing. Waiting until he takes his arm completely away from my neck, I push his hand away from my boner and reluctantly zip-up as I'm telling him, "I'm driving you to the Mall now, Myers, and I have something to say to you along the way that you're going to listen to." He seems to be resigned to this as I go into a little lecture explaining that people don't push themselves on other people and that being rude seldom gets you anywhere and blah, blah, blah. Even to myself I begin to sound a bit like a pompous ass, but I'm kind of having fun with this kid. Myers is the most interested when I tell him that perhaps I'm bisexual, and that perhaps he's someone I'd consider as a sex partner sometime, if, "And that's a big if, Myers". "If" the time and place is right. And, for sure you're not to wear any make up". I added that part about the make-up as he giving directions and he mutters, "I don't need to wear make up. It's only when I'm trying to look extra sexy." I drive toward the Mall trying to clean the black lipstick off my lips using tissues from my glove box. He'd been staring at me as I talked, seemingly paying attention. But now he frowns at my last comment and the 'right time and place' and says, "Wait a second. I'm starting to feel like you mean we're not going to do it tonight." I go, "That's right, Myers, not tonight" and hearing that he slips right back into his normal arrogant personality. Fortunately we're moving too fast for him to pull any of that wrestling shit on me. All during our drive and while I was pontificating away with my pompous lecture I kept wondering, 'Why aren't I taking Myers up on his offer?' I mean, he definitely turns me on somehow, and he's always seems to be able to do that, so why not oblige him? I not sure why, but I resist the temptation. Myers gets out at the Mall slamming the Mini's passenger door. He tells me he isn't at all surprised I'm not man enough to fuck him because I'm a pussy and a fucking fairy. He's mad as hell and gives me the finger as I pull away. I smile because, I don't know why exactly, but I do find him so sexy. His BO seems to really arouse me, but right at that moment I really need to find that goddamn bachelor party because I've given my word I'd be there. Doing what I hate to do, I asks directions from someone pulling into the Mall and get headed in the right direction, I think. My mind goes right back to Myers. While wrestling in the car my wrist got pinned in his arm pit so I smell the back of my wrist and sure enough, there's Myer's BO and my cock began to fill up with blood again and the more I smell my wrist the harder it gets. I'm still kinda having a good time and as I drive and again wondering, 'Hey, why didn't I go to that motel room with Myers for a quickie?' I still don't have an answer to my question. Eventually I find the party and pay my respects to Coach Pools and drink some beers with my old team mates who, by the way, I never got along with until this past year. All in all, it's a good time, but the best parts of the night are the parts I spend fantasizing about how it could have been between me and Myers. You know, if I'd gone through with fucking him like he wanted me to. And, I'm still spenting quite a bit of time trying to figure out an answer to my question: 'Why didn't I go through with it?' I think of another question too: 'What the hell is wrong with me?' My life is certainly not overflowing with sex, that's for sure although in the beginning of the summer I'd had some fairly good sex in Wildwood with Alexander, but only for one week and then I was right back to jerking-off. Pretty much I've lived a lifetime of giving myself hand-jobs, except for one night with Cris and the week with Alexander. Well, I did have last Saturday night and again this afternoon with Frankie. Not counting spit swapping, we've had oral sexy times together, but only twice; some wanking and oral sex action and that's totally it for my sex life. That's all the sex I've had in my entire nineteen years of life.. No wonder I'm a walking boner and always horny. Everything gives me a boner for Christ sake, and no wonder, I'm sex-starved. And, for God-damn sure, tomorrow night Pattie isn't going to be the answer. Her brother could be, maybe; he perhaps might be a part of the answer. After the party I go straight back home to jerk myself off thinking about how it would have felt to fuck Myers, realizing that this is just the sort of thing I did when I was thirteen years old; I've made almost no progress since then. Jeez!! The next night when I pick Pattie up for the movies Myers is no where to be seen. Maybe I wish he was there, and maybe I wish he'd somehow manage to make me have sex with him. The Myers encounter Friday night did one thing though, it made me conscious of my need for some actual, real, gay sex. Myers' awakened my yearning for some fucking, and I don't care if it's as top or bottom. It seems like, you know, I'm back to just fantasizing my sex life again instead of living it. Laying around the house all day Sunday, analyzing my entire gay sex situation, I conclude positively that Frankie is the boy I want and love. For the short range though, what do I have going for me? Well, I'm going to be at the University in less than two weeks. So in that regard I have two things going for me. One, getting back with Alexander and hopefully fucking his brains out while at the same time maybe discovering what's up with his beautiful twin brothers, Noah and Nathan. And, two, Cristobal is at the University of Pennsylvania and he, hopefully, will be humping me routinely. I brightened up noticably because I can see there is light at the end of my sex-starved tunnel after all. As for immediate concerns; how about swapping some spit with Frankie and maybe some more oral sex too 'cause I'm always up for that. Also, I need be a lot more aggressive when an opportunity presents itself. Yeah, that's something for me to work on although, actually, it isn't a new thing. I've tried working on that same character flaw any number of times. Take action, Oliver! What happened to the new adventurous Oliver? That's the kind of stuff I'm still thinking about at work Monday morning waiting for Frankie to show up. It's our last Monday on the job. No Frankie yet, but here comes Pete again and what a cute kid, but with all his shyness and all I keep forgetting about him. He kind of reminds me of how I acted around people way back when I was just starting to get over Tyler's death. I love watching Pete walk in almost a swagger, and he's a short kid so his swagger is even more noticable. I'd bet anything the way he walks has something to do with that big cock of his and his excellent ass. As usual Pete waits outside the cafe door waiting to be invited in, so I yell, "Good morning, you hot shit. How ya doing today?" Pete says, "Oh, hi Oliver". Jeez, ha ha, he acts as if he's surprised to find me here. Christ, I'm here every morning. He's so funny with that shy stuff, then he asks, "Can I have coffee with you?" I wave him in and endure his normal quiet period with me while I try striking up a conversation by asking him stuff, like what'd he do on the weekend? Pete gives short answers, with no eye contact. I like looking at him so I take advantage of his propensity to stare down at the table top and scrutinized his face and his tight, thin body. Sweet!! I'm having a nice time talking with him and looking at him and then, just like last Monday after the picnic, and again without saying a word, Pete gently takes my hand up off the cafe table and, holding my wrist in both his hands, he sucks on my fingers then briefly glances up at me to see if it's okay. God, that gives me such a hard on! I just grin at him and nod my head a little, so he licks the palm of my hand a half dozen times and then up each limp finger before sucking them all into his mouth with lots of bubbly saliva. After a minute or so of that, still without uttering a word, he put my wet hand back down just as gently as he picked it up. Slowly standing up with a large bulge in his lap, leaving his half finished coffee, he hustles off to do his first mail run of the day. Later I watch him push his mail cart down the narrow hallway with his long curly hair flopping around and his absolutely perfect ass sticking up and out just the perfect amount. I'm thinking, 'Oh my God is that kid hot'. Groping my boner I suck the same fingers Pete had in his mouth and taste his saliva which leads to thoughts of giving myself a quick hand job in the lavatory. Oops, no time for that as the "toot-tooooot" sound is heard from the loading dock indicating another work day has begun. Still no Frankie so I start working without him feeling weird, like I felt on my first day when I also worked the loading dock alone. For this last week there isn't much unloading left to do so this is going to be an easy five days for us. I do everything at half speed and the only person I see early on is Mr Brittle who adjusts his bow tie, waves at me and yells, "Morning, Frankie!" as he walks the length of the loading dock trying to find something out of order to bitch to Rocky about. Then he disappears down the same hallway that I'd watched Pete push his mail cart down. Mr Brittle's always got Frankie and me mixed-up. Morning break I tried calling Frankie's cell phone, but it's turned off. I'm in the cafeteria of course and hoping to spot Rocky, wanting to ask him about the missing Frankie and sure enough here comes Rocky carrying that clipboard of his. He's got a look on his face like he's trying to figure out the meaning of life. "Ollie, ya gettin' any?" is Rocky's greeting to me. Then he tells me the bad news, "You're on your own the rest of the week, kid. Your girlfriend, Frankie, had himself a burst appendix late last night and he'll be out of commission for awhile. Sorry about that, but you can finish the little bit left to do on your own, right?" I don't let on to Rocky how disappointed and pissed-off I am about not having Frankie with me this last week. Instead I tell Rockey that of course I can finish on my own, but I'm naturally concerned about Frankie. I want to know more about it. He tells me Frankie had an emergency appendectomy and is recovering nicely. That's all Rocky knows, except he adds there isn't anything to worry about, it all went very routinely, "Except he won't be doing any lifting for awhile." So maybe he did see concern on my face after all. "Kinda like me", Rocky adds, referring to Frankie not doing any heavy lifting anytime soon. Rocky puts his mysterious clip board under his arm and begins playing pocket ball in his pants while sauntering off to have a morning coffee break with each of his staff separately, which will take him to his lunch break. Rocky surprises me by coming back a little later. This time with a get well card on his clip board for all us workers to sign for Frankie. I write, 'Get well quick you slacker! Love ya, Oliver.' I'll call Frankie as soon as he gets home from the hospital so we can make plans to get together before we both head off to college. I'm sitting in the cafe alone feeling sorry for Frankie, and feeling sorry for myself too. After break I'm moping around the loading dock waiting for lunch. At noon I get my brown bag lunch out of the little refrigerator and sit looking at it while thinking about things in general and conclude I'm missing Frankie something awful and, at the same time, feeling so horny it's getting serious. Seems life is a downer for me again. I open my lunch bag to see what mom made for me today and right on top is a packet containing one regular, well lubed condom. What the fuck ? I'm pretty sure mom didn't put it there, so who? It has to be Pete. Well I'll be dammed. There aren't too many ways I can take this. Life is so full of surprises sometimes. Looking up and there peeking through the glass door of the cafe is Pete. My heart beat picks-up as I wave the condom at him chuckling. Pete's face is crimson as he continues looking in at me from outside the cafe's glass door. I do the index finger motion that indicates, 'Come here' and Pete slowly comes in with his own lunch bag in front of him; he's holding it in front of his lap with both hands and he won't look at me as he comes over and sits down in the chair right next to mine. I look at Pete as he looks into his lunch bag, mumbling, "What's that ya got there, Oliver?" Oh fuck, I begin laughing and he joins in. It's so pathetically obvious that he'd put this condom in my lunch bag and, I don't know, he's so cute, but does he actually believe I don't know he did it. And, more importantly, what does it mean. Practical joke or an invitation? When we both got over our laughing Pete tells me he heard about Frankie and he thought I'd probably be lonely all week so he's going to make it his business to keep me company. I go, "Yeah, it does sucks about Frankie and damn, thank you for thinking about me 'cause it can get lonely down here at times." Pete looks at the top of the cafe table hard, but I can see his little grin on the side of his baby face. He has all that hair of his pulled back into a fat, curly ponytail. Looking at him a thought drifts into my head, I wonder how that skinny neck of his would smell right under the pony tail at his hair line. It makes me shiver just thinking about it. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I consider things quickly: Frankie isn't going to be here and I've made that pact with myself about taking advantage of opportunities for sex and if this deal with Pete isn't an opportunity then I don't know what one might be, so take action, Oliver. With my heart beating hard and me feeling much less confident than my words imply, I ask, "Have you ever been screwed, Pete?" I came right out with it and he comes right out with, "Six times." Just like that; 'Six times', and no beating around the bush. Hell, that's my total too. Well, if I can count the times I screwed Alexander and the few times Cris fucked me, I beat him by three. Of course those three all happened during Cris' sleep over at the Holiday Inn. With my heart still fluttering with nervousness, I can't seem to come up with a follow-up comment or question, so instead I buy us a couple of bottles of Kiwi-Strawberry Snapple from the vending machine. His voice cracking, Pete says, "Hey, thank you, Oliver. It's my favorite." He seems to be in the same shaky condition I'm in, but I force myself to get right down to business anyway. "How old are you, Pete?" He informed me he'd just turned seventeen yesterday. I say, "Happy Birthday, Dude." He goes on to tell me, in a barely audible voice, that he'd more or less decided he was too old to be so shy and he's committed to doing something about that, hence the condom in my lunch bag. Of course, he never looks up while he's telling me any of this. He just says his piece and then nibbles at his sandwich while playing with his long curly ponytail with his other hand. His leg never stops bouncing, keeping time to music only he can hear. Pete looks about fourteen, but I know from my first 'hand' experience that he doesn't have an average fourteen year old's cock. He has a big cock, bigger than an average seventeen year old too, or twenty-seven year old for that matter. I also know he has the most perfect boy butt I'd ever seen, and thinking about that combination of his cock and his butt gets my smaller cock squirming around in my jockey shorts and I need to reach down and help it get in a comfortable position. Pete mumbles, "I might never see you again after this week Oliver, and I have this super-charged urge to be fucked rough by you. I dreamed about it again last night. Will you? Fuck me rough, I mean?" I still haven't taken a bite of my sandwich because I now need both hands to adjust my crotch and get comfortable down there; I'm dealing with a painfully hard boner and a pair of expanding nuts requiring both hands. I'm absolutely flabbergasted. It occurs to me to ask Pete why he thought I'd want to fuck a boy, so I ask. He sensibly and matter-of-factly points out that I'd jerked him off and kissed him at the picnic, so he figured maybe I'd be willing to fuck him too. Hmmm, good answer. Perceptive lad, this Pete. He tells me he really wants me to screw him, specifically me, not just anybody. All of his responses are made in that matter-of-fact tone of voice; it's as if he's discussing the last movie he saw, but everything is spoken barely above a whisper. I can't help but think how strange it is that within a four day period I've had two different teenage boys ask me to fuck them. From that one might infer my life's full of gay sex, but that hasn't been the case at all as my earlier listing of my almost nonexistent sex acts demonstrates. I think about gay sex a lot, but rarely carry it off. Life is full of surprises though, as I've said, and they can be both good and bad surprises. I have to put up with the bad ones so why not take advantage of a good one. Thinking about all of that and using a voice that once again sounds more self assured than I actually feel, I say, "Yeah, what the hell Pete, sounds like a lot of fun. I can give you a rough fuck." I want to sound experienced and I also want to make it seem like it's no big deal; for fear that Pete comes to his senses and realizes how totally bizarre this whole scene is. Lunch hour around the cafe can be busy with unexpected visitors at times with too many guys wandering around the loading dock having smokes or getting a breath of fresh air, so I suggest, "How about you come back after the normal time for afternoon break and we'll use the little lavatory around the corner?" He looks up at me for the first time today with his big brown eyes shining, as I repeat, "You okay with afternoon break; us doing it back there in the small lavatory, Pete?". A shy smile on his face as he goes, "Oh, okay". That makes me give him big smile and after checking to see if anyone's watching I put my arm around his neck and pulled his head over for a kiss. Pete pulls back, whispering, "I'm sorry Oliver, but I don't kiss with other guys. Please don't be mad." I'm disappointed to hear that, but I slowly say, "No problem Pete. No kissing, just fucking." A slight nod of his head and, looking sideways at me again with that same familiar small grin on his face, he hesitantly reaches over to lightly pat the boner in my lap. Now I have a red face too. During the rest of lunch my mind is flying all over the place and it's damn difficult to believe this unexpected good fortune as well as grasping the fact that soon I'll be fucking the most perfect boy's ass I've ever seen. Pete continues to appear blase about the whole matter as he mumbles answers to my questions, but because of all the different thoughts twirling around in my head only bits and pieces of Pete's story registered with me. I think it's probably a familiar story; he doesn't consider himself gay at all, he just likes giving it and getting it up the ass once in a while with another boy. He and his long-time neighborhood friend, Mickey, are straight and simply experimenting with a little gay sex for the fun of it. I say, "Uh huh". Pete goes on to tell me that recently he's been wondering how different it might feel getting fucked by someone other than Mickey, not that he and Mickey do it very often if it's been just six times. So, when I jerked him off at the picnic he figured he'd found another sex buddy. He also tells me, while continuing to look down at the cafe table, that he got a woody thinking about me so he's wondering about that too. He never got a woody thinking about Mickey; just when Mickey fucked him or he fucked Mickey. All quite interesting, and boner inducing too. I can hardly wait for the afternoon break. Pete shows up fifteen minutes early for break and since no one's around I nod my head in the direction of the lavatory and Pete scurries right in there. I follow and lock the door thinking, 'What the hell, we'll take an early break'. Breathing becomes difficult now and Pete's jittery and appears nervous too, but he keeps playing with himself so perhaps he's just anxious. With a voice that seems as though he's very out of breath, Pete tells me, "I like it best if you boss me around, Oliver. And do me rough, please." He gropes his crotch and takes in a lot of air but as usual he won't look at me. Seems like a lot of guys are into either submissive or dominant sex; doesn't seem like I'm running into too many gay boys who don't just want to have sex either top or body, they have a strong preference. Me being the dominant sex partner isn't really my cup of tea I guess, but it isn't totally new territory for me either. Alexander is even more submissive than me and somebody has to take the lead, so I try. Playing the dominant role for Pete, with my heart beating fast I say, "Get your ass over here," and he moves his short, tight body right in front of me, I reach around him and get a fist full of his ass cheeks in each hand. The flesh is very firm and there's a lot of it too. Wanting to experience that again I re-grab fistfuls of his unbelievable buttocks and pull him into me so that his crotch is right under mine. Massaging both buttocks, then letting go of his left one I feel down the front of his crotch and trace his boner with my hand; it's fat going sideways in his pants all the way over past his pocket, verifying what I felt at the picnic, it's a fat cock and it's a long one too. Pete takes in another long, wheezy-sounding breath and exhales with a light spray of saliva that I feel on my neck; the lad's very aroused. Reluctantly letting go of his other ass cheek I go, "Take down your pants and step out of them. Do it now!". He quickly pulls down and steps out of his dungaree shorts and then his jockey shorts. Standing there in front of me, with his long boner now pointing straight up his belly, he's fidgeting from one foot to the other while unselfconsciously playing with his nuts and rubbing around his buzzed pubes. Vert long hair on his head, but none around his cock and balls. Pete has a skinny, tight body alright, however his legs are anything but skinny. Very strong looking with well-defined calf muscles. I know Pete was a high school athlete, but I can't recall in which sport although I think it might be soccer. He's got regular amounts of hair on both his calves, but none on his thighs and I get the urge to run my hand up and down his legs feeling the muscles and the curly, light brown hair on his calves. My cock's very hard. Pete kind of pleads with me, "Please do me rough, Oliver. I like it that way even though right now my knees are so wobbly I can hardly stand up". I'm short of breath and a little wobbly myself. Taking in a lot of air first, I tell him to reach in my pocket and pull out the lubed condom that he was thoughtful enough to provide. His hand in my pocket gets me even harder and I put my face down against the top of his head and all that curly hair smells so nice and feels so silky. "Undo the snap on my cargo shorts and pull them down, Pete." As I say that I take a big fist full of his hair and pull his head back roughly, asking, "Would you like to suck my cock before I fuck you with it?" Pete still won't look me in the eyes, but in a low and humble voice he mumbles, "Please don't get mad, but I don't do that either. I can't make myself put a penis in my mouth." I say, "For Christ sake, you mean to tell me all you two nitwits do is screw each other?" Pete's reply is in a whiny voice, "I'm sorry, but that's all Mickey and me can do so far. Please don't get mad at me, Oliver." I can't help thinking to myself that Pete and Mickey have started at the finish line and I guess they'll work their way backwards till they get to circle jerks.' It's a different path they're following for sure, but they certainly got started on it long before I did. My cargo shorts and my boxers are around my ankles and I'm pretty sure my boner is never going to get any harder so I have Pete roll the condom on me as I'm saying, "Fine, we'll forget about everything else and just enjoy this." He nods his head and when I tell him to turn around, bend over, and grab hold of the sink. He immediately does it pushing his fabulous ass up in the air at the same time. There's a small amount of hair on his ass so I downgrade it to one the best butts I've ever seen. To sound tough, I tell him, "Get that hole up higher and hold it up there." Pete goes up on his toes now, pushing his ass up higher and I can see he's straining to keep it there. I can't resist swatting his hot ass a few times and watching it turn dark pink. That gets my boner sticking straight out from my belly and I again grab two handfuls of his ass, his bare ass this time, and move each cheek away from his crack so I can see his pucker. It's bright pink and shiny. My first thought is, 'I'd like to lick it like I did to Frankie's hole that time', but licking Pete's hole would probably freak him out so instead I massaged his hole with my middle finger and hear Pete squeak out a funny sound. It's fun playing with his ass; then in a strained voice, Pete mentions he put lots of creamy Vaseline up his hole just ten minutes ago and he hopes that's okay with me. Good thing I didn't lick it. He asks me to smack his bum cheeks again, but harder this time. Hmmmmmm, interesting, but I ignore his request for a few ass smacks and pushed a finger against his hole instead, and whoa, even though his ring muscle is unbelievably tight my finger slides all the way up without much effort so I finger him a little and hear that wheezy breathing from him again. There are beads of perspiration at the back of his neck, obviously the strain of keeping his ass up so high is wearing on his legs and toes. Then I do smack his ass hard a couple of more times and Pete goes, "Aaaaaah", letting go of the sink with his right hand so he can stroke his cock a half dozen times. Drops of his pre cum hit the tile floor, drip, drip, drip. Fondling his ass cheeks using both hands, then I reach under to grab his swinging nut sack for a squeeze. Pete let out a squeak. Without a word of warning I put pressure against his hole with the head of my cock and it pops in. Pushing steadily all the way up his asshole gets Pete groaning, "Mmmmm. Yes. Oh yes. Harder, Oliver" I pull almost all the way out and shove in again hard with my balls bouncing off his, then a couple of more times even harder and then slowly for a half dozen pumps. The sensation on my boner are outrageously good because it's tight enough it causes my shoulders to shudder. His hole's so tight I can't believe this isn't hurting him. "Harder, Oliver. Please." Grabbing hold of his slim waist with both hands I hump in and out fast and hard for three minutes until I'm just on the edge of cuming. Sweat rolls down from my forehead and that awesome, intense feeling starts in my nuts and spreads out in all directions from my groin causing me to let a moan slip out. Pete is openly moaning and groaning out various pleasure sounds while he strokes his long cock. "Harder, Oliver." This constant nagging for 'harder' is getting me a little pissed off. What's this kid want? With my cock impaling him, I grab a big fistful of his long curly ponytail again and pull his head back far enough to make him grunt. I'm stretching his neck backward so hard his cute adam's apple protrudes in his reflection from the mirror over the sink. I'm momentarily transfixed by his reflection in the lavatory mirror. His eyes are closed, but fluttering, and there's a small grin on his lips as his tongue flicks around them. I'm hot, hot, hot by now and I can see that Pete's hot, hot, hot too. Keeping his head pulled back, I smacked his ass hard five or six times and then really started pile driving his hole while holding onto his ponytail as if it were a horses' reins. Pete lets out a long high pitched squeal and fist his boner in a blur. In less than a minute his hips buck and I hear his cum splat hard up against the tile under the sink, and then the sound of more cum plopping on the tile floor. With each of Pete's climaxes his sphincter muscle tightened so much on my boner I see stars, but at the same time I shoot off such a hard stream of cum I'm afraid it might blow out the tip of the condom. While cuming I try to let out some noise but can't make a sound. Instead I just blow a lot of air past my lips as Pete continues tightening his spinster muscle with each blast of cum he shoots out of that long boner of his. He continues stroking his cock a full minute after firing his last shot of cum and I keep pumping his hole until my cock gets too soft and slips out. We're both puffing-out short bursts of air trying to control our breathing. My heart's beating way too fast and I feel slightly dizzy from the spike of sensations at climax. Neither of us says anything. When my cock flops out of Pete's hole he'd simply moaned, "Ohhhh" and then straightened up, taking in another long breath. We're both acting like we just ran a fifty yard dash. Backing-up I lean against the outside of the lavatory door staring at that fantastic ass of Pete's, watching the Vaseline and the condom lube drool down his bum cheeks all shiny and slimy. Turning around he peeks at me, his penis down to it's normal soft, fat, eight inch length. As I stare at that big thing hanging there limp between his legs, Pete rips off some paper towels and dabs at the wetness on his ass before he finally mumbled, "Was that okay for you, Oliver?" I dumbly nod my head up and down. It was a quick one, but a hot fuck while it lasted. I go, "Yeah, it was a wesome, Pete. Really awesome." His hole is much tighter than Alexander's and I can't help but wonder how someone with a cock as big as, let's say hypothetically, Frankie, could he even get his cock up that tight chute? Flushing the condom down the toilet, then we both pull our pants up in silence. I'm feeling pretty good, but now it's a bit awkward, so I ask, "Ya feel okay, Pete?" He blushes a bright red and with that small grin on his face he peeks up at me again and quietly said, "My hole hurts a little, but it feels good too so yeah, I'm good." I hug him around his shoulders and he asks, "How about tomorrow, Oliver, would ya do me again?" Jesus, my dick responds to that by moving sideways in my jockey shorts like it did earlier today. In a voice I'm hoping sounds casual, I go, "Yeah, sure, tomorrow it is, Pete." Not really much of a talker, Pete simply nods his head as we walk out together to share a quick Snapple on the loading dock, passing the bottle back and forth till Pete finished the last few drops. I light up a Marlboro Light realizing I'm kinda addicted to them now, and take a big drag, blowing smoke in Pete's direction. He grins and holds his hand out so I pass him my cigarette and he takes a puff, then blows a perfect smoke ring that dances in between us until a hot summer breeze blows it apart. Jeez, I can't remember seeing a smoke ring done that good since my summer vacation in Wildwood. That beautiful kid, Mike Sullivan, blew a number of perfect smoke rings on the boardwalk. I haven't thought about him for awhile. Thinking about him now gives me a shivery feeling in my balls. I have to grin at Pete, rubbing his head for good luck. Hell, I didn't even know the kid smoked. Pete passes the butt to me and mumbles, "See ya, Oliver. Thanks a lot", and off he goes for his last mail run of the day. Finished my cigarette, I'm thinking again about how odd life can be at times, and how it can surprise the hell out of you too. Be that as it may, I can't stop smiling. Cigarettes aren't the only thing I'm addicted to 'cause I gotta add gay sex to the list. The rest of the day I keep reliving that quick fuck in my head as I lazily move a couple of cardboard boxes around on the loading dock just waiting for the "toot-toooooting" tone that signified the end of our work day. What a day it's been too; it started off horribly and ended with fireworks. It's odd, but with Pete I never gave a thought that 'maybe this is love. I'd felt that with Cristobal right off, but he was my first ever sex partner and so it seemed to me I was in love with him for sure. I began to feel that loving way with Alexander too, but then his feminine side showed too strongly and that loving feeling faded. Even so, I feel affection for both of those guys. With Pete, he's a cute kid and all that, but I just felt the hot sex urge with him; not even a hint of love. Of course, the hot sex urge is plenty good enough on it's own. So, now I know a little more about the difference between love and a hot sexy time with a hot, cute kid. Driving home I marvel at how good I'm feeling. At dinner mom mentions she's glad to see my smile again. Probably best if I don't tell her what brought that smile to my face even though I'm enjoying remembering everything about fucking Pete. It's not hard to remember it all since it was a quickie, but worth remembering just the same. Next morning at work there's a box of Junior Mints and a note in my cubby hole. In beautiful penmanship the note reads, 'Can we do that fun thing at morning break today, Oliver? Please!!!' and it's signed, "Your Friend, Pete". I need to sit down. I mean, he gives me a little present and begs me to fuck him again, and he wants it sooner rather than later. Oh my God, how did I get so lucky so quickly? That is, so quickly after my disappointment in learning Frankie's done for the summer; work wise anyway. Naturally, reading the note gives me the hardest boner ever, many things do, but it feels so fine just the same; they usually do. I still have the rock hard boner sitting here on the dock ten minutes later. While I'm thinking about fucking Pete, Rocky comes up and squeezes the back of my neck. "Yo, dick head, whats-up?" is Rocky's greeting this time, and I start to say good-morning to him, but he interrupts excitedly with, "We might be in for some bonus dollars, Ollie. I just got the word from Brittle. It seems that all the summer goals have been met without using any overtime pay at all. It's just a matter of figuring our how much we get to split-up. Christ, I had no idea we did everything we were suppose to; it was news to me, fer chrissakes. Go figure!" He ruffles my longish hair and then saunters along to tell all his guys that we'd be getting some kind of a summer-job bonus for a job well done. I'm on a roll now. Pete shows up as soon as I get to the cafe and we have an early coffee together. I thank him for the candy and I tell him, "Sure, the morning break will be our fuck break today, Pete". He goes off smiling, pushing his mail cart. Morning break can't get here soon enough for me. It's worth the wait however because that early morning fuck turns out to as hotter than the one we had yesterday afternoon. To add something new I ordered Pete to take off his shirt along with his pants and underwear. Now, except for his socks, he was completely naked as he waited in front of me for his fuck. What a great little body he has. I stared at it trying to memorize every detail; his tight, small body with the huge penis and showcase ass so pure and hot. Everything just about perfect except his feet are out of proportion to the rest of him; they appear to be much too big for those perfectly shaped, muscular legs of his. I stare at those legs, then my eyes drift right up to the aforementioned one hundred percent pure-grade boy-ass, with demerits for those random hairs. Maybe he could shave his ass. There aren't that many hairs so it wouldn't be a big deal; maybe I'll shave it for him. That'd be fun. Still, even with those random ass hairs, what a prize he is. I casually ask Pete about his quarter-inch pubes and he says he buzzes them himself using his father's beard trimmer. I don't ask why 'cause I don't want to go into the why of it; I'm just glad he does. I'm very hot for this sex thing called fucking, so I drop the subject of buzzed pubes while dropping my shorts. Keeping with my theme of changing it up a little today I start off with a half dozen hard smacks on his ass, "Just to tenderize your hole", is my explanation for the smacks. The smacks get Pete pushing up and back with his ass and while I'm fingering him he lets out this long moan of pleasure, "Oooooooh". Jeez, he's turned-on even before I enter him. Maybe my folks can adopt him so he's around every day. Apparently he gets very excited about that dominant little spanking and when I push my boner up his tight hole he continues with the pushing back at me with each thrusts of my hips as he moans away in pleasure. Hope nobody walks by the locked door. Feeling more confident now, I'd shove my boner all the way up his ridiculously tight hole in one quick movement and, if possible, it feels even better then yesterday. The lubed condom he provides helps with his tight rectum and the Vaseline he puts up his ass quickly allows smooth thrusts even though his ass is very tight. Pete mutters, "Yes...yes..yes," now with each hard penetration. I'm deliberately doing semi-slow long thrusts up that tight ass because it's providing me with deep pleasure sensations on my boner, feeling so good I just shake my head in disbelief. Every dozen thrusts I need to stop for thirty seconds or so because I'm right on the edge of climaxing too soon again. During my pauses I push Pete's hand away from his boner and stroke that long shaft of his myself using a very tight grip. As I stroke his boner from his nuts all the way up to the swollen head, and back, over and over the head of his boner gets larger and I begin fantasizing Pete pushing that thing up my hole and it gets me even more aroused. This is hot, fun sex; something I've never really experienced before. Sex for the pure pleasure of it, with no complicated personal interaction or concerns. It sex between the willing participants simply to provide both of us pleasure. He asked me for a sexual favor and I'd said, "Sure kid, glad to help out," while helping myself out at the same time. Maybe that's the way to go. When love gets involved it gets to be too desperate a situation and can be hurtful. Fucking Pete without any major concerns is such a hot time I'm constantly on the verge of exploding my orgasm into this condom. It feels like a cum blasts will occur with each new penetration but somehow I manage to curtail it and continue to enjoy plowing Pete's amazing ass. He's pushing back at my humps, starting to throw my rhythm off so I reach around his belly with my arm and from his bent over position at the sink, pull him upright so that his back is up against my chest and wrap both my arms around him. I'm able to hump in and out of him harder holding him in this position and it's awesome. He's docile in my arms going "Oh, ah" with each penetration so maybe I'm now hitting his prostate just right. Whatever the reason it's got him squirming and grinding his ass back into my crotch which intensifies the excellent sensations of sexual pleasure on my boner. The smell of his thick ponytail hair becomes intoxicating too as it tickles my nose each time I drive my stone hard boner up his ass as far and as hard as I can get it. The sound of flash on flesh echoes off the tile walls of the lavatory sounding sexy. Pete continues grunted with an "Oh, ah," at every hump. It isn't long before Pete reaches his hands behind me grabbing my ass cheeks trying to pull me into him deeper with each of thrusts. He's doing quiet squealing now along with the grunts, while at the same time I'm stroking his boner wildly and finally he climaxes with an initial spray of cum that I feel on my legs. Mostly pre cum stuff although this boy generates a lot of creamy, teenager cum and after the quick spray, his real cum blast is a thick gob of creamy goop that flies straight up in the air, made a looping curve and lands in the sink, "splat!". Making "Woofing" sounds with each shot as his muscular hole ring tightens unbelievably on my cock, just like yesterday. I soon fire off my load into the condom seeing all kinds of dots flying around behind my eyeballs, then holding my cock in him I feel another stream of spunk filling the condom and my cock is surrounded by cum all squishy, creamy, and warm. All the while I'm making a "Mmmm," sound squeezing that skinny body of Pete's against me for all I'm worth. The silky hairs on his legs rub against my almost hairless ones and it seems everything about Pete is a sexually total turn-on now. Well, everything except that Pete doesn't have that sexy personal scent that Frankie's body produces. Pete's is neutral, but all that hair on his head smells nice and everything else about this experience is totally fabulous. I really want to kiss and fondle him some, but he won't cooperate at all with that so I settle for that great hug during the fuck. Leaving my cock inside him for a minute or so after our orgasms, then reluctantly pulling it out of Pete's great ass, we do some "Ouuu's" and "Aaaah's", then get ourselves put back together and go out for a quick smoke and a coffee on the loading dock. Pete says, "Oh, Oliver, that felt great, but now my hole hurts too much to sit down," so we drink our coffees standing up, leaning a little against each other. I kinda thought that tight hole of his is gonna get sore with the two hard fucks I gave his ass, but he nagged me to go faster and harder. Hurt rectum or not we give some thought to squeezing in another quickie at afternoon break, but during lunch Pete reluctantly admits that his hole is still too sore for an afternoon fuck. Walking around the office delivering the mail further aggravated his sore bum. I'd thought about Pete fucking me when I was stroking that monstrous cock of his, so I think about suggesting it to Pete, and oh my God, did that thought give me a boner, but at the same time I'm nervous about the size of Pete's cock. Cristobal's penis is almost as thick as Pete's, and Alexander's is almost as long, but combining the thickness and length into one extra big boner, like Pete's, well that makes me think twice about him fucking me. Pete ask me, in his soft voice, "Why so quiet, Oliver?" Still apprehensive, but I mentioned it anyway, I go, "Dude, I'm thinking about asking you to give me a fuck later this afternoon because my hole isn't sore". Pete's looking up at me for a few seconds, thinking about that. Then, in a very sincere manner he exclaims, "Oh, it will be sore if I fuck you, Oliver." He hesitates, thinking about something else for a second while I'm thinking he's right; the size of his cock has shiver running up and down my back. Then Pete goes, "But to come to think about it, my friend Mickey always tells me it's worth it; getting fucked by me is worth the sore butt. The only way I know to use this big cock of mine is to fuck hard and rough. Mickey likes it that way and he says it's well worth the sore ass to get the thrill of a lifetime climax." I'm staring at him, not saying anything because I'm leaning towards backing out. Pete goes, "Yep, that's what he says, 'Thrill of a lifetime climax." Sounds intriguing, but I find myself staring at him because that's by far the longest speech I've ever heard Pete make. It's also got me so hot I'm squirming standing up and groping my semi-boner. Pete doesn't sound shy when he talks about him fucking someone. He sounds confident, but not in an arrogant or boastful way at all; just in a matter-of-fact way, pretty much like he always sounds, except for the confidence part. Truth is, he's so damned sincere with his quiet voice, but it's his words that got my attention; him talking about his big cock and how he fucks rough and all that. I'm a little scared, but even so I say, "Hey, it's my turn and I really would like you to fuck me, Pete." He shrugs and says, "Sure, Oliver, you'll get the whole deal. I'll give you my Mickey special fuck." to be continued... Chapter 9 ( Summer Job 3) Donny Mumford thinat21@yahoo.com Please consider a tax deductible donation to Nifty, a non profit organization. Click on 'contribute' for the details. Thank you.