Date: Fri, 9 May 2003 18:24:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: LZ
Subject: Never Say, Nothing is Forever Chapter 5

     Over the next two weeks, Georgie and I were together
only on Sundays. He claimed to have a steady date with a guy
all day Saturday and had to go alone. I scored with four
johns the first Saturday but only earned fifteen dollars. I
didn't like the looks of the first and last. The first, who
took me to the Holiday Inn, wanted me to blow him but his
cock had scabs on it so I said I didn't do that. The second
was a nice enough guy in an army surplus parka with a fourth
floor walk up apartment on West Eighty-Eighth Street. I
sucked him for five. The third had a van parked by the
waterfront. We sixty-nined in our coats under a blanket on
an air filled mattress that squeaked every time our bare
butts moved on it. The fourth, a real dirtball, paid our way
into a movie theater and did me in a lavatory stall with my
pants around my knees. He sucked for nearly twenty minutes
but with the stink of urine and the man drooling into my
pants, I couldn't get off. I had to stay and watch half a
cowboy movie to let my pants dry so people wouldn't think I
pissed myself. The West Eighty-Eighth Street john made a
date with me for the following Saturday.

     Sunday, Georgie and I made fifteen each with an older
man from Connecticut who took us to the Holiday Inn where he
watched our show then paid for a second presentation. He
wasn't able to cum by himself so I tried to suck him off.
His cock kept going soft so after about ten minutes of
trying, we gave up. Afterward, he took us to a German
restaurant and spent nearly twenty dollars more on dinner
and dessert. We were too full after that to think about
another score so went to the movies.

     The next Saturday I started out in the Port Authority
Bus Terminal. It was freezing outside and I and wanted to
revisit the knife collection in a cutlery store on the main
concourse. They had a huge Swiss penknife display with a
motor that opened and closed it. I wanted a stiletto in the
window. It cost $26.95. I had that much and more in my stash
but knew they wouldn't sell it to a kid. I was trying to
think of someone I could pay to buy it for me when a man in
a long black overcoat walked up. He was short, pale and had
a five o'clock shadow.

     `You like knives?'

     `Uh huh.'

     `My employer has a huge collection of knives and
swords, some over a thousand years old. I'll bet you'd like
to see that.' He told of curved razor sharp knives with gems
and swords that required two hands to pick up. He suggested
I might be able to see it.

     First customer, I thought, but I would have liked to
see such a collection, if it existed. "Where is it?'

     `Oh, the collection's at his house in Connecticut. We'd
have to make an appointment with such a busy man. Why don't
we go and have something to eat at my place and I'll see if
I can find some pictures. My coach is outside.'

     Coach, I thought. You had to have horses to pull one of
them. `You gotta coach?'

     `It belongs to my employer but I use it for errands.
It's old but a very good car.'

     He looked harmless enough. `Where do you live?'

     `About a dozen blocks from here. We can be there in a
few minutes then I'll bring you back here, or take you home
if you like.'

     His `home' was the Sloan House YMCA where a john took
Georgie and me during the Christmas holidays. When we got to
his room, another younger man was inside. I stayed near the
door. After a brief greeting and something about going to
the store, the other man left us alone. I was relieved.

     The john started going through the dresser drawers
claiming to be searching for pictures of his `employer's
bladed weapons collection' but couldn't seem to find any.

     You're certainly a healthy boy. How old are you?'

     `Eleven.'

     `Then you are getting ready to enter adolescence when
there will be a great many changes in your body.' He went on
about glands and ducts and tubes and then exercising certain
body parts so they would grow large and perform well. None
of it made any sense to me. I hoped this guy was a five-
dollar trick so all this time would be worth it.

     `Let me feel your hips to see if you've started growing
yet.

     I walked close enough for him to grip and feel my hips,
thighs and ass.

     `It's hard to tell like this. Let me open your trousers
so I can tell if you've started growing.'

    He slowly and deliberately undid my belt, unzipped my
fly, and slipped the catch that opened my pants. They
dropped to my knees. I had on underpants because of the cold
but wished I hadn't so things could move along faster. He
felt the same places again but his eyes were on my crotch. I
noticed he was going bald on the back of his head.

     `Have your testicles started to grow?'

     `Not yet,' I answered but wanted to say hurry up.

     He carefully pulled back the front of my briefs. `Oh, I
think they will soon. I hope you're exercising your penis so
it will grow straight and not crooked. If it grows crooked,
the tube inside can get pinched and the seminal fluid can't
get out properly. Let me show you.'

     He slid down my underpants and started pulling gently
on my cock. That would usually get me hard right away but
with all this bullshit, I was not even close to being horny.
After a couple of fruitless minutes, he went to the dresser
and came back with a jar of Vaseline.

     `This will help your penis grow and afterward I'll give
you a couple of dollars to buy some of your own.'

     `I don't want none of that shit on me. Why don't you
just blow me?'

     He looked up with a blank stare then smiled, `Oh,
okay.'

     It still took a long time to get me hard and almost
twenty minutes for me to get off. Part of the reason was he
kept stopping and going on about tubes again. Another was
his lousy technique. I had to guide his head and tell him to
suck instead of just slobber.

     After we finished, he dressed me, took a small black
leather purse out of his pocket and carefully pulled out two
dollars, which he counted twice into my hand.

     `Blow jobs are three dollars, sir.'

     `Three dollars? Well.'

     `Three dollars,' I repeated firmly.

     He slipped out another dollar then went to the door to
`see if my friend has returned'. He had and offered to take
me wherever I wanted. I asked to be dropped off on Forty-
Third Street. It wasn't good for cops to see a kid getting
out of a car right on the Square.

     On the way, the guy asked if his friend had tried
anything with me.

     `Nah, we just talked.'

     I made my one o'clock date and scored again at four,
convincing the last guy to buy me a meal on Eighth Avenue.

     Sunday Georgie showed up but said he had another date
and would see me in school. I didn't get a chance to tell
about the weirdo from the day before.

     I looked all over for John, my new friend I hadn't seen
in three weeks. He was nowhere to be found. A tall, clear
faced teenager about fifteen or sixteen came up beside me as
I walked along Forty-Second headed for the warmth of
Herman's, my eyes open for a customer.

     `Wanna score?' he asked furtively.

     No one nearly as young as this kid had ever tried to
pick me up. He was clean and reasonably well dressed in
jeans, a nice zip up coat and Yankees cap over brushed,
collar long light brown hair..

     `Whatta ya want?' seemed a safe reply.

     `I got this guy who'll pay us thirty for some pictures.
He's over there.' He pointed with his chin at a man eating a
giant pretzel near the corner of Eighth Avenue. The man
raised the pretzel and smiled.

     I didn't like the feel of it. `Nah, I'm goin'
somewhere.'

     `Shit, man, don't worry. He's okay. And we're just
going to the Holland. C'mon, man, I need the cash. Thirty
bucks each.'

     Nobody was going to get hurt or ripped off at the
Holland Hotel. It was too close and the hotel staff knew
most of us. `What kinda pictures?'

     `Easy stuff, kissing, sucking.'

     `What's he want the pictures for?'

     `Shit, man, beat off, I don't know. I did it before
with him. No big deal.'

     `No fucking.'

     `Not for thirty bucks.'

     I agreed. The boy had a key to a fourth floor room that
had two strobe lights on stands. We undressed. The teen was
thin, had a full grown cock, hairy legs and tattoos on both
arms. He was hard coming out of his briefs. I upped my
estimate of his age closer to seventeen. The man knocked a
few minutes later.

     I wanted to see some green. `This kid says thirty, can
I see it?' I asked after he introduced himself as Mike and
the boy as Craig.

     `Don't worry,' he said with a toothy smile as he
counted three tens off a roll of bills and put them on top
of my clothes. `I'm one of the good guys.'

     He posed me alone standing, sitting and lying in
various provocative positions on the bed including close ups
of my cock hard. The two flashes nearly blinded me. Then he
had me sit on Craig's lap where we kissed and the teenager
fondled my cock. He'd eaten a pretzel too. I could taste it
on the tongue he poked all around inside my mouth.

     We sucked each other individually then in a sixty-nine.
Craig was good at it, seemed to be enjoying himself.

     `Okay, Ray, lie on the bed with your ass up on top of
the pillow.'

     `No fucking. I don't do that!' I insisted with as hard
a look I could muster.

     `He's not going to put it in. We're gonna fake it.'

     Craig said, `just between your legs but act like it's
in you and feels good.'

     I was concerned but obliged. Craig climbed on top of me
and nudged my legs open. Mike took a roll of photos from
every angle. Craig and I acted out a passionate fuck scene.

     While Mike reloaded his camera, Craig turned me on my
back and sucked me with my balls in his mouth. It seemed
Craig liked boys and got free sex by posing with this
photographer. I wondered if he actually got paid too.

     `Okay, Ray, let's get some more suck shots and we're
through,' said Mike. Craig's gonna pull it out just before
he comes and shoot back into your mouth.'

     That explained what the thirty was for. The amount had
sounded high. Men who wanted to take pictures usually
offered ten.

     I got on my knees and sucked best I could on six inches
of teen cock. He moved his hips a little side to side but
avoided fucking. I felt Craig's thigh muscles harden as I
worked on him. His peter was hard as stone. As he got close,
he rose on his toes and put his hands on my shoulders.

     `Move your hands, Craig, can't see,' ordered Mike.

     Craig let go and gripped his ass cheeks. His breath
became increasingly audible. His cock bloated.

     `Now,' he grunted and pulled his penis out. I opened my
mouth wide. Craig let go of his ass and cupped my temples in
his palms. Sperm fired into my mouth. It kept coming in
great spurts that went all over my face, up my nose. I
fought the impulse to blow it out. The flashes went off
repeatedly. Finally, Craig pushed his cock back into my
mouth. I closed on him and blew my nose on his shaft. A
final squirt went into the back of my mouth. The taste
wasn't as bad as a man's but still nasty. He pulled me with
him as he fell on the bed where he wrapped his legs around
me as pulses continued up his shaft.

     In the shower afterward, he sucked me off and thanked
me. `You were the best, Ray. Maybe we can do it again. Where
do you live?'

     `South Bronx,' I lied. That disappointed him, as I knew
it would. White boys didn't dare go up there. This teenager
liked little boys but didn't have money to pay for it. If he
had been five years younger, it would have been different.

     He wanted to meet me somewhere. I told him I'd look out
for him on the Square.

     I spent two of the thirty on a meal at Tad's then
almost turned down a john who took me to the Holiday Inn. It
was early yet so I had another protein shake and added six
more dollars to my twenty-eight.

     In the movie theater I was hustled by a regular who
finally offered three to let him do me in the bathroom. I
stood on the toilet seat while he sucked me and beat off,
shooting his load into the john. He worked so hard on
himself that he couldn't get me off.

     That week, Mr. Martinson, my teacher, offered to help
me with my studies if I'd stay after school a couple of
times a week. I was failing most everything again so
accepted. He was stout, in his fifties, a long time 212
teacher, and older than the other two male staff members.
His round face had two expressions, sincerity and as warm a
smile as one can imagine. I never saw him angry with anyone,
not even me. He had a great reputation with former students.
Although he sent me to detention a few times for fights, he
never yelled at me or blamed me for things he wasn't sure I
had done. He was the only adult at the school that was kind
to me.

     'You're as smart as any student here. If you'd apply
yourself just a little to your studies, you'd never fail
again. If you really worked at it, you could go to college.'

     I wasn't sure what college was. My expectation at that
time was to drop out the day I turned sixteen, preferably
sooner, like all the other ne'er-do-wells in my
neighborhood. School was interesting at times but an
impediment to making money and doing whatever I liked.
Except with Mr. Martinson. He actually had me thinking about
personal improvement, not all the time obviously, but it was
something I'd never considered before with other teachers.

     We worked on my handwriting first. He sat beside me and
guided my hand while making circles and continuous up and
down lines. Then we read, after a fashion. I had no
difficulty pronouncing most words but my vocabulary was
limited. Mr. Martinson used a sixth grade reader so there
were many words I didn't know and often mispronounced or mis-
accented sufficiently that he knew I didn't recognize them.
Every word I didn't know had to be printed ten times before
the next class. I wasn't sure why all those additional words
were necessary but gradually found reading easier and more
interesting. I enjoyed our sessions but only did half the
homework he gave me, which was more than I normally did.

     Thursday afternoon, my sister, Delia, waited outside
Mr. Martinson's classroom for me to finish. We walked home
together. Delia thought it was great that I would now be
getting nineties like Maria and her.

     We went to my grandmothers to watch television and have
dinner. Delia told grandmother about the nineties that would
be on my next report card. Grandmother promised a party with
ice cream and cake if I passed fourth grade. The two of
them, especially Delia, truly motivated me. I hadn't
received a grade over seventy-five except in gym since first
grade. Nineties may have been a stretch but I felt certain
that I could garner some eighties.

     Friday at lunchtime, Georgie told me to meet him early
Saturday on Tenth Avenue and Forty-Sixth. We had a good
money job. It was another movie, this one with a forty-
dollar payoff. There would be another boy. I hoped for a
blond beauty like Georgie.

     He turned out to be a slim, handsome teenager about
fifteen named Sammy who wore overalls, a jean style I'd
never seen anywhere but in pictures of farmers. I loved the
looseness and the possibility of slipping my hands right
down to my crotch. The side slits, fastened with a single
button, gave occasional glimpses of shirt below the
beltline. Had the shirt been shorter, underwear, if he were
wearing any, would have peeked out as he walked. The
overalls were sufficient a turn on that sucking whatever was
gliding between his legs was okay with me.

     I determined to buy myself a pair. They had to feel
great with no underwear.

     The three of us were driven by the same man in the same
van as before to a fancy second floor apartment on Twenty
something Street on the East Side, thick wall to wall
carpet, lots of heavy furniture, pictures on all the walls.
Four large, empty suitcases were on the entry hall floor.
There were photographic lights on stands and taped to walls
in the living room, hallway, bathroom and bedroom. The
camera, bigger than the one used in the last movie and with
a huge lens, was mounted on a sturdy looking wooden tripod.
A shorter camera stand was behind it. A second man wearing a
Yankees cap was there to operate the lights and help the
cameraman. It smelled professional to me.

     I whispered to Georgie. 'Look at all this shit. This
guy's a pro. They gotta be selling this shit.'

     'I tole you I been in these before an' I ain't never
heard nothin' about it after. It's just some rich guy like
he says. So don' worry yerself.'

     I worried.

     The cameraman reminded us that his name was Matt and
laid out the first part of the story that was more
complicated than the last. Georgie and I were two friends
watching a pornographic 8-millimeter movie in our living
room when Sammy knocks on the door. We let him in and return
to the sofa. Sammy gets excited and starts jacking off.
Georgie follows suit and nudges me to join the fun. Sammy
wants to get blown. Georgie refuses and tells me I've got to
do it, threatening me with a fist. Sammy shows a dollar and
I agree. He pulls his pants off and I suck.

     That was most of the living room part. It went off
smoothly. Sammy had a decent sized dong on him, not so fat
but nearly six inches hard, with a foreskin that easily
slipped back to expose a slick, pointed head.. It had a
muscular look to it and stuck out and up at a nearly perfect
forty-five degree angle. I couldn't take it all so they had
me go up and down the sides and suck on his still hairless
balls. Then, while I was concentrating on Sammy, Georgie did
a quick striptease and sneaked up behind me. Sammy grabbed
my shoulders. Georgie wrestled my pants down to my knees,
spit on his dick and rammed it inside me. I was coached to
react like it hurt so I grimaced much as I could with my
mouth full of Sammy. I wanted to reach back and feel
Georgie's flesh while he banged away. It was very erotic.

     The camera caught Sammy watching Georgie enjoy himself.
Sammy pushed Georgie off me, lifted me by the waist and
instructed Georgie to pull off my shoes and clothes. Then he
had Georgie hold me while he stripped down. Sammy had a
perfectly formed body, lightly but tightly muscled, and soft
black puff of pubic hair at the base of his absolutely
straight cock. I liked what I saw but, of course, I was
enamored with Georgie and enjoyed the feigned struggle that
allowed me to grab and push on his arms and body.

     Sammy picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder,
holding my arms tightly while Georgie took my feet. Matt,
camera on his shoulder was backed ahead of us by his
assistant into the bathroom. Sammy climbed into the bathtub
and turned on the shower. He told Georgie to sit at the far
end where I was to fellate him. At this point, I realized
that I was probably about to get fucked with the biggest
thing ever to pass through my pucker. Georgie held my head
by the hair, my face in his crotch. I pulled loose.

     `That thing', I argued pointing at Georgie's dick, `was
just up my ass. He's gotta wash it first.'

     Matt agreed. Everybody watched as I washed it off,
lovingly and slowly, oblivious to the four sets of eyes
observing my abnormal interest. Georgie thought it was funny
but stayed hard as a chromed water pipe. While it proved he
enjoyed my hand work, I had no doubt he preferred my lips.
After a thorough rinsing to get all the soap taste off him,
I knelt down in the tub and sucked him into my mouth, up the
valley formed by my folded tongue. He tasted clean. I missed
the wonderful smell and flavor of boyhood his dick usually
had. Teens and men tasted different. Georgie and Kenny
tasted great.

     Georgie pumped away. With the relaxing hot water
splashing over my back, I waited for the pain of Sammy's
entry. Sammy took the bar of soap and lathered up his entire
groin. The camera followed his hands up and down his trim
body. He turned off the water and dropped to his knees. He
soaped up my ass like it was his baby, and then stuck a
slick index finger inside to the knuckle. I sucked in air
through my nose as he poked my prostate. Lifting and
lowering his finger, he loosened my hole, gently massaging
my special spot deep inside with the tip of his finger. It
hurt a little when he stuck it in but, quickly, the feeling
improved. I arched my back and spread my cheeks for greater
penetration. That's when he slipped his finger out and
placed the pointed head of his six inches against my hole. I
was hard as a nightstick and about as thick.

     Sammy gripped my hips. The cameraman climbed a ladder
his assistant had brought in and filmed directly down on my
about to be punctured rear end. Sammy pushed forward. This
time it hurt. Georgie knew it would because he gripped my
curls and held me tight. Sammy held my hips and trapped my
legs under his. I didn't struggle but I did suck in
Georgie's balls and bite softly down on the whole package.
Georgie squirmed. It was his turn to suck in his breath.
Sammy didn't stop until his pubic hairs were flattened
against my buns. I felt like a baseball bat had been rammed
clean up inside me. But there was a pleasure side to the
pain. My hole stung from the stretching but inside was
another matter. He pressed against something that hurt but
my tender spot tingled like it had a small whirring motor
that spread pleasure from inside to the end of my peter.

     Sammy pulled almost completely out then slowly pushed
all the way back in. I was afraid he was breaking something
inside me and bit down harder on Georgie's cock and balls. I
hoped Sammy would come quickly. It had to feel great inside
my tight, hot ass.

     `Ease up, Ray. That hurts,' whispered Georgie into my
ear.

     `My oss huts,' I mumbled best I could with my mouth
full.

     Thinking about what I had learned from John, I adjusted
my hips to allow a less painful passage. Sammy fucked away.
I concentrated on Georgie, sucking him hard, trying to make
him come. It would have been nice if someone had been doing
me.

     `Hold it,' said Matt, the cameraman. `Don't move.' He
got down from the ladder. From the corner of my eye, I saw
him switch cameras and realized why he hadn't been stopping
us every few minutes to reload. He sat on the sink across
the room and instructed Sammy to go full into me and turn on
the shower. Sammy leaned back so the water cleaned all the
soap off the two of us then turned it off again.

     `Georgie, dry off Ray.'

     Georgie pulled a large, thick green towel off a rack
behind him and dried me with one hand, above and below, the
other still holding my head on his crotch. Sammy then took
the towel, dried himself much as he could with his dick up
my ass then wiped down my legs.

     The cameraman's helper led him smoothly backward to the
door.

     `Okay, stay inside him, Sammy. Ray, keep Georgie's dick
in your mouth. Now, Sammy and Georgie, slowly, get out of
the tub and bring Ray into the bedroom.'

     Sammy lifted me by the hips while Georgie took my arms.
They stepped simultaneously out of the tub and moved
deliberately across the hall into the brightly lit bedroom
and its large round bed. Sammy's dong wobbled pleasantly
around inside me

     `Now, Sammy, turn so you can sit and slide back onto
the bed. Stay inside him.'

     We moved onto the middle of the bed, settling in the
middle with me facing Sammy's knees, impaled on his big
cock. Sitting there didn't feel so bad, just invaded.
Georgie climbed onto the bed and stood feet apart, tight in
front of me so I could continue working on his peter. I
couldn't resist the urge to put my arms around him and hold
his ass cheeks in my crossed over hands. He hugged my head.

     `Ray, lift you knees so I can see your rear better.'

     I obeyed, placing my feet on Sammy's thighs.

     `Lift him, Georgie'

     Georgie put his hands under my arms and raised me,
Sammy's cock slipped partially out. I felt something cold
and slick where Sammy's dick entered me. He was putting on
another lubricant. This was far from over. I braced myself.
Georgie lowered me back down. Sammy began fucking. It wasn't
so bad. He couldn't get full penetration with me leaning
back so it didn't hurt as much. And the new goo they used to
grease his cock eased the pain in my hole. After a dozen or
so thrusts, we moved again.

     As before, Sammy stayed inside me. I had to let to go
of Georgie. I turned around like a wheel on Sammy's axle
until I faced him.

     `Ray, lay forward on him.'

     I leaned forward. This was going to hurt. Sammy started
fucking. I sat up. The pain was too great.

     `That hurts too much. I can't do it like that.'

     `Sorry, Ray, we won't do it that way any more.' The
camera in use for this scene was on the large tripod,
staring at me with its enormous single eye. The assistant
was changing the film magazine on the other camera. Matt
rubbed his chin. `Let's try something else. Sammy, when I
tell you, pull out and get up. Ray, you lie on your back and
put your legs up and all the way back, like you like it now,
like you want Sammy to give you some more.' He smiled
encouragingly and moved the tripod to match the new
positions.

     I wasn't sure how this was going to work out. What I
did want was Georgie back in my mouth.

     I gazed at Sammy, my arms outstretched, the most ardent
yearning I could muster on my face. Sammy pushed my legs
back and guided his pole into my hole. I tried to relax so
it would go in easier. The tip pushed in easily but it hurt
as he penetrated deep inside of me, this time deeper than
before. I could feel him stretching and moving things within
me. The discomfort continued to be somewhat compensated by
the good feeling Sammy's cock produced from my special spot,
but not a lot. Though I managed to maintain a look of
passionate enjoyment on my face, my dick was less the actor
and slumped. The cameraman noticed.

     `Georgie, I need you to get Ray hard.'

     Georgie, the professional, reached in and massaged my
dick, which responded immediately.

     `Let him do me,' suggested Georgie either because he
knew that would keep me hard or because he was horny, or
both.

     He straddled my face and dropped his crotch down while
stretched out on his hands and knees. He fucked my face
while Sammy fucked my ass while the cameraman filmed. I
wrapped my arms around Georgie as before, massaging his back
and ass while my tongue pushed back his foreskin to massage
the slick cockhead. I was tempted to lick my finger and
stick it up him so he had an idea of what I was going
through, and because I really wanted to feel what it was
like inside him.

     Sammy was getting hot. His head hung close above
Georgie's moving butt while he pumped into me again and
again. It was really hurting at that point but feeling good
too. My cock was staying hard. Sammy rammed in faster and
faster, making a slapping sound with each full penetration.
I was close to stopping him when I felt the expansion. I
hugged Georgie to me hard as I could, halting his fucking of
my mouth. Sammy slammed into me and grunted in time with the
pulses I clearly felt from my rectum to my colon. Sammy
quivered for a few seconds then collapsed on top of us. His
cock stayed in until it slipped limply out as Sammy rolled
off us.

     `Okay, Georgie'

     Georgie reached back and gripped my dick in his hand.
He looked longingly over his shoulder then, pulling his dick
out of my mouth, quickly turned, lay head to crotch with me,
pulled us onto our sides, and took my cock into his mouth. I
was in heaven! I watched him for a few seconds, his lips
clearly working my shaft. I felt his tongue inside.

     `Ray, you too, 69.'

     I immediately provided my best reciprocation.

     `Both of you. Fuck mouths!'

     We pumped, gradually falling into synchronization. We
were both sweating from the exertion and the heat of the
lights. I did everything possible not to get off too soon.
But the very idea of Georgie's beautiful lips running up and
down my peter was overpowering. I tensed and fired. Georgie
buried his head in my crotch and pumped away into my mouth.
Seconds later, the bloating, tensing, throbbing. I held him
tightly to me. I had found paradise!

     'Hold that. Good. A little more. Great, that's it.'
Georgie lifted off unceremoniously and sat up. Paradise
lost.

     We had to pose and re-do a lot of the action for the
still photos Matt needed to take.

     'Oh man, does he gotta really put it in again? Why
can't we just fake it like last time?' I asked when they
gave Sammy the grease.

     'Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while and Sammy
will put it in real slow, won't you Sam?'

     Sammy nodded affirmatively.

     'And I get to take some pictures too, I demanded
without thinking about it. The cameras were neat looking
gadgets and the idea of capturing the image of Georgie naked
was exciting.

     'Sure,' he smiled.

     I insisted on doing it as John had. I sat on Sammy's
wong, adjusting myself for minimum discomfort and moved
downward. It was too soon for Sammy. He dick wasn't hard
enough to get inside of me. Georgie tried holding it
straight with both hands while I pushed down. We got the
head in once but it slithered out as soon as Georgie let go.

     It took nearly half an hour for Sammy to recuperate his
powers. Meanwhile, they shot close-ups and poses of the
three of us individually, then Georgie and I doing our stuff
including the sixty-nine. It was paradise revisited.

     Once again, I squatted over Sammy's wong and slowly sat
down. Sammy had his nightstick back. The head spread my sore
pucker. His dick felt cold as it slipped back in. Other than
my rectum, there was less discomfort than the first time.
When I felt him press against something inside me, I shifted
to the left as had John. I could feel it glide up my colon.
Sammy pushed in to his soft pubic hairs. His rod actually
felt comfortable inside me, almost like it belonged there.

     The cameraman shot me lying back on Sammy's chest,
Sammy pushed full inside me with both of us appearing deeply
passionate, my feet on Sammy's knees, my arms back around
his neck. Keeping Sammy deep inside, we slowly rolled over
and rose so Sammy was doggie style behind me. Matt shot it
almost out, halfway in and buried up to its whiskers. The
long cock wobbling back in my colon and against my prostate
was turning me on. I started to get hard. Matt flattened us
and pushed us over on our sides where he repeated the three
depths with my now stiff dick facing the camera. Georgie
noticed but didn't say anything. Matt winked.

     I tried to think of a way to have Sammy do a slow fuck.
Everything that came to mind would have been too obvious,
labeled me more of a fag than I was already in Georgie's
mind. I felt empty when Sammy pulled out.

     The assistant showed me how to hold and focus the
camera. 'When you're ready,' he explained, 'you push here.'

     I took two pictures of Sammy from the side with his
hard dick poking out free and then in his fist. It took
Georgie three pictures to get a hard on then he clowned and
gave me the finger, flashing his ass hole, something he
hadn't done for the cameraman.

     'When can I see the pictures?' I asked.

     'Never. Everything we do here goes to the man paying
for it. He develops it and keeps it. Even I never see it.'

     We showered and received our cash rewards, this time
without rancor and apparently with me paid in full. Sammy
asked if it hurt.

     `Fuck yeh it hurt. Shit!'

     `You're a tough little kid, Ray.' He mussed my curls.

     As we were leaving, Matt surreptitiously pushed a
twenty dollar bill into my hand and put his finger to his
lips. `You were great,' he said in my ear.

     Monday was Valentine's Day. I stopped at a store on
Eighth and bought my mother a cheap box of candy, cheap
because it was easier to explain a few dollars than ten or
fifteen.

     When I gave it to her Monday night, she liked it but
still asked.

     `Thanks, son, but where did you get the money?'

     `I got some from Ray and Gramma and a couple of
friends. Anyhow, it's a gift, you ain't s'posed to ask.'

     She gave me a quick hug and that was that. It figured
to keep her off my back for a couple of days.