Date: Wed, 1 Jul 2015 19:26:50 +0200
From: z.blake@mail.com
Subject: Casey in the Clubhouse

CASEY IN THE CLUBHOUSE
By Zachyboy
t/b, t/t, oral, anal

The following story is a work of fiction. Because honestly, I was just
sitting around here feeling fictional today, and whoops, look what popped
out. So, while many of the fictional teens and boys in this story do the
oral and anal clubhouse clench here on your computer screen, in real life,
none of them did anything at all. Or at least they didn't let ME watch them
if they did. (Damn).

So knowing it's all just horny make-believe fun, enjoy, unwind, loosen your
belt a notch, and for God's sake before we all ejaculate, please give a
little something to the Nifty Archive Alliance for keeping boygasms free
and plentiful here on this crazy blue marble in the endless dark infinity.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

The clubhouse is open. On with the show.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

It was one of those beautiful summers where everybody sorta knew everybody.

There's a universal truth about having sex with a boy. If you're doing him,
chances are pretty good somebody else is doing him too, and you, my friend,
don't necessarily know about it. Also, you don't just want one, you want
them all. They're like eating Pringles. You have one, then another, then
another, then another. Shit, sometimes you just want to stack them up and
eat two or three at once. You pretty-much want the whole can.

My name's Casey, and I'm 15. My friend is Steve, and he's 15 too. We're gay
as the breeze, but in that cool, kinda tough, "hey kid, come over here and
let me fuck you" kinda way, not necessarily that swishier "let's sit here
and draw hearts on our notebook folders before Home Ec class." I mean,
don't get me wrong. I like those kind of boys too, I'm just not one of
them. I get along with them just fine. Especially when my dick's up their
butts.

Enter the old summer clubhouse in the woods, where my BFF Steve (and that
stands for butt-fucking friend, not the yearbook platitude) took care of my
hot little brother and my hot little brother's hot little friends that
summer. Steve is gay, I'm gay, and you better believe that clubhouse a
mile-deep in the woods smelled like boy ass and teen dick that sweet,
sticky summer. There was so much sex in there from June through August, God
Himself had to blush and close the curtains.

I've been having sex with my little brother Jackson for a year now. He's
8. He was 7 when we started. And by "sex," I pretty-much mean "sex" of the
"up the butt" variety. I know some gay guys say "sex" and they really mean
"blowjobs." And that's okay. That's a type of sex too. But to me, a b.j. is
mostly just foreplay, and "sex" means "buttfucking." I like the whole
enchilada personally, but If you want to call blowjobs "sex," that's fine
with me. You're sort of a pussy and you're leaving out the good stuff, but
do what you need to do.

So when I say Jackson and I have been having sex for a year, I really do
mean my dick's been up his butt since he toddled home from third-grade
talking about stiff wieners and his little friend's butt he liked to
sniff. He showed me his stiff wiener, I showed him mine, and and before we
knew it, with the help of a little of Mom's hand lotion, mine was
five-inches deep up his rump. Necessity is the mother of insertion.

I also regularly nail his friend Dommie, who we all call "Pwince," because
he can't pwonounce his R's. Pwince is adorable, especially when my dick's
inside him and I ask him how he feels and he tells me, "weally, weally
gweat." If you've never come in a kid who still talks baby talk, you're
weally, weally missing something, I swear to God.

All last summer, I fucked Jackson and Pwince in a tent out in our back
yard. It became sort of Grand Central Station of Boy Fucking. A few of the
neighbor kids caught wind of it, and before I knew it, Jackson was filling
up my dance card while I was long dicking him.

"You know Raven and Julian, right? Nnngh...ow...not so fast."

"Sorry," I said, adjusting my thrust. God, my little brother's butt was
tight. Even after the 400th time I fucked him, it still felt like heaven.

I was laying on my back in the zipped tent, sprawled out on the sleeping
bag. Jackson was sitting on my cock, straddled with his legs on either side
of me, his melted-Vaseline hole riding up and down on the slender length of
my five-inch shaft.

"Anyway, Raven," he grunted...

"Oh fuck," I whispered greedily. "Ride that fucking cock, Jackson. Good
boy."

"Casey," he grunted, squeezing his ass muscles. "Are you even listening to
me?"

"Ooof," I said, when he ass-squeezed my dick. God, his little clencher felt
hot. He was boiling up inside, just the way I liked him. 98.6, and I was
taking his rectal temperature with my cock. Sweet.

"You're not even paying attention to me," he pouted.

I grabbed his hips and started sliding him up and down again.

"I'm paying attention to your bottom," I told him. "I just wish your top
would shut up."

"My friends," he grunted. "Raven," in rhythm. "And Julian," grunt.

"Yeah?" I said, quickening my pace, breathlessly headed for a cum, and
thrusting my dick even deeper inside him. "What about them?" Talk, talk,
talk. Why do little kids always want to chatter when you're trying to get
off inside their asses? It's enough to drive you crazy. There's a level of
concentration required, you know.

"They wanna do this," he panted. "Get fucked by you sometime. And Fiji
too. And my other friend Barrett." He was insistent. Blah blah blah. And at
this point, I'd have promised him the moon if he'd just pipe down and let
me hose his colon full of goo.

"Bring `em on. Oh yeah, oh yeah," I babbled as I fucked him. "I'll fuck
those boys. I'll fuck them so hard they'll squeal...gonna fuck their sweet
asses...gonna fuck them so...AYIIIEEEEEEEEE...NGGGGGGH!!!!!" And just like
that, I blew my load up the grip of his shitter. Oops. My bad. Sometimes
you're in the back seat, distracted, just riding along, and before you know
it, you look up from your iPhone game and go, "aw shit, are we there
already?"

"Too fast!" he panted. "No fair! You came!" He sat down firmly on my cock
again, which was still burbling cum up his womb, crossed his arms and
pouted like a baby. He liked it to last, but damn, I couldn't help it. You
put your cock up a cooperative 8-year-old and tell me how long you last,
Skippy B.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry..so sorry...you were just so hot
inside...so good today...and talking about all those other boys, oh fuck
it, oh Jackson, it was so fucking good." There's that post-cum sex
babble. Sometimes you don't even know what you're saying right after you
cum. My dick was still shivering and twitching inside him, belching out the
last of its baby drops in exhausted little piss dribbles.

"You owe me," he complained, crossing his arms again and jutting out his
lower lip. He slip hopped off my cock and wiped his ass on the sleeping
bag. My entire sexual reproductive system gave an audible groan of
disappointment when he dismounted, but cheered up a little when he
straddle-squiggled up my chest and stuck his cock in my face.

"Suck it, bitch," he giggled. "Pretend I'm Pwince and I wanna make your
mowf pwegnant."

We both grinned. This was an inside joke form last summer when Pwince was
convinced I could impregnate him with my babies. He never conceived,
although not for lack of trying.

I sucked my brother's little 8-year-old stiffy into my mouth. It was a cute
little fatty, about 2 and a half inches long, maybe three on a good day,
and it smelled like graham crackers and it tasted like salt and just a
little bit of boy piss. It was a salty, cinnamon, maple good treatstick,
and I moaned around it as I blew him which made him dry-shiver all the way
up his spine from the buzz of my mouth hum.

"So, Raven and Julian, okay? And the other kids, too?" he asked again
breathlessly as he grabbed my ears and began skull fucking me like an old
pro. He was a regular rabbit at this. It wouldn't take him long. "I can
bring them all, right? And you'll do stuff with them too?"

"Nnn-hnnn," I nodded as I hoover-sucked him harder. He smiled, satisfied
and closed his eyes, grabbing my hair hard and piston fucking my mouth.

"Good," he said. "They want an older boy. I told them you were good at
stuff."

Enough talk. I shoved a long finger up his still-wet ass, and that was all
it took. He was tensing in no time. With about ten more lightning thrusts,
he spasmed, shivered, and rammed himself into me. An epileptic seizure of
shaky-happy boy seizures. His puberty would have been proud if it weren't
still four years down the road.

"NNNNNEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" he squealed as his body did dry jerks and his
babydick jumped circles in my latchy-numb lips.

"Oh fuck," he whispered. "Oh fuck, oh fuck. That was a good one."

I took my finger from his ass and wiped it under his nose.

"I suppose you want to smell it," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Always," he giggled. He had a thing for butt smells, that one.

"Gotta go," he told me as he grabbed for his pants, but left his undies
behind. His Spider-Man shitters he already knew from experience, were mine,
for later. He could go, but those stayed behind. I liked to smell his piss
drops and amuse myself.

"I'm gonna tell all the guys you're open for business," he said with a
smile. "And we'll see who wants to do stuff. This'll be fun."

I nodded and squeezed a lone drop of pearl out of my cockhead as I watched
his narrow butt crawl out of the tent flap. God, that kid turned me on. I
could fuck him all day, and I sometimes did. Do you know what that's like?
That constant arousal. You literally just fucked a kid and you want to fuck
him again? And again? Your cock needs to rest more than the rest of
you. The rest of you wants to keep going. It's like blackjack with twos and
threes. Hit me again. And again. And again. And again.

"You gotta find a more private place than this dumb tent, though," he told
me. "They'll never do it here. Mom could walk by."

"Really?" I asked him. Because the tent was already here, and Mom had never
come out here once. The tent was my fucking headquarters. Anything else was
a pain to set up.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "They're gonna be tent-shy. You'll have to find a
better place!"

And that's how the clubhouse was born.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

"It's gotta be somewhere private," I told my friend Steve after I sucked
his cock and he blew a thick load down my throat. Steve's cum was always
great. Like bleach and strawberries. His pubes smelled like my
armpits. "The littler kids won't do it unless it's somewhere private."

"Do I get to fuck one too?" he asked. That's the thing about Steve. He's a
hell of a friend if you need to get off, but there's a definite aspect of
"what's in it for me." But hey, that's how it should be, right? The best
nasty friendships are always reciprocal.

"One step at a time," I told him, wiping my lips and catching a stray drop
of his ball jam on the tip of my tongue. "We'll work up to it."

He sighed. Wiped his cock on my lips like Chap Stick.

"All right you fucker, but if you're popping Raven and Julian – or that
hot fucker Fiji from down the street—I better get sloppy seconds."

"Oh, they'll be sloppy," I promised him. "Now get your ass up in the air so
I can get rid of this boner."

He smiled at me and assumed the position, grunting easily as I entered him
with the steady grit-teeth patience of an old friend. Steve and I had been
fucking each other since fourth grade. The fact that our dicks were bigger
at 15 didn't slow us down. Now it just seemed like a healthy challenge.

"Oh, fuck yeah," I hissed as my lubed cock slid home in his chambers and I
felt the familiar sphincter squeeze of his ass muscles around my shaft,
welcoming me back like a well-trained anaconda. "You're gonna get it hard
tonight, man."

"Oh yeah," he moaned, grinding back against my pubes with his ass cheeks. I
could smell us both in the air, and it was hot.

"I'm gonna fuck this ass and pretend it's Raven," I hissed, sliding my dick
in and out of his lube-wet tunnel.

"Give it to me good, bitch. I saw that little shit at a birthday party last
year. He's a hot little fucker."

"Gonna tap that hot fuckin' ass," I grunted, grabbing his hips and
long-dicking him with the finesse of an old friend. "Open up, Raven. Give
me a place to leave some babies behind."

"Oh yeah," Steve grunted, gyrating and twisting. "How old am I? How old is
Raven?"

"Eleven," I told him, fucking him even deeper.

"Oh fuck yeah," he whispered. "I'm eleven. Fuck me harder."

I picked up my pace and long-dicked him for a few more minutes before I
knew I was ready to blow.

"I want your cum," he whispered in a quiet little boy voice. "I'm only
eleven, and I want your cum."

Oh, fuck. I love it when he pretended. That's all I needed to hear. I
grabbed him by the hips, punched in deep and bred my load straight up his
15-year-old teencunt.

"NNNNGGGGHHHH!" I grunted as the jizz flew out of me. "You fucking little
bitch tease!!!! NNNNNGGGGGHHH!!" God I loved fucking Steve.

Underneath me, he squeezed and contracted his ass muscles around my
burbling dick, gobbling up every drop of pearl jam as fast as I could ooze
it into him.

"Fuck," I whispered in amazement. "It's like your ass is eating
it. Swallowing it."

"I'm very talented," he grinned. "For eleven."

"Shut up," I said, pulling out and wiping it on his ass cheeks. "You want
to see fucking? Wait until I get a couple of these friends of my brother's
buns-up and kneeling. I'll show you fucking."

"I'm hard again," he whined. "Oh fuck. You gotta let me fuck you."

"I just blew you. Are you serious?"

"Please, please, please," he whined, waving his rock hard dick in my face.

Normally I would, but my ass was on hiatus while my mind was doing the boy
math.

"Later," I said. "We gotta figure out this privacy thing so we can bang
these little beauties."

"Hey!" he said. "The shack cabin!"

The "shack cabin" (don't ask me why it had that weird two-weird baby name)
was this old, but relatively well-known piece of dilapidated property out
in Hirts Woods about a mile out of town. It wasn't far, and it wasn't
pretty, but it was imminently workable. It would only take a kid on a bike
ten minutes to ride there, and another twenty to walk down the trail to a
perfect, private pleasure spot. We'd just have to clean it up a little.

"Not a bad idea," I mused, absentmindedly fiddling with my and fingering
some of my stray cum drops back up his still-gaping asshole.

"Mmmm," he gyrated. "Keep doing that."

I fingered him harder. He spit on a finger and reached out to finger me
too. Whew, I thought as his finger found the sweet spot. There's nothing
better than two friends with two long fingers.

"We'd have to sweep it out," I told him. It's a real fucking mess."

And that it was. Years of dust and cobwebs galore. One summer it had a dead
cat and a nest of pissed off barn swallows. They were long gone, but the
dilapidation remained. Long-abandoned by every kid in town, It would take a
minor miracle to get it back into fucking shape. But hey, never
underestimate the determination of two high school freshmen after some
fourth grade pussy.

"And what do we fuck on?" I asked him as he finger fucked me. I'd taken my
finger out of him, and was now just content to let him pleasure me with his
fat long digit. "We can't just fuck these kids on the floor. They'll never
go for it."

"My grandma's got that old queen-size mattress out in her storage unit,"
Steve suggested. "She'll never miss it. All we'd have to do is grab a wagon
and haul it out there."

"Shit, that's gonna be exhausting," I said.

"You got anything better to do with your summer?"

I shrugged. He pulled out his finger and flipped me around a little. Spread
my ass cheeks and took a look. Made it clear he intended to fuck me.

"Why not?" he said, uncapping the Vaseline and smearing some on his cock
head. "We haul it out there, sweep it out, mop it up, grab some blankets,
cover the windows, put a padlock on, and it's the perfect clubhouse for
some summertime boy pussy."

"You got a wagon," I asked him as I felt him rub his slippery dickhead up
and down across my rosebud. Damn, that felt good when he did it like that.

"Andy's got one," he smiled at me. Andy was the kid next door he
babysat. He fucked that kid up in his own little attic playroom every
chance he got. From what he told me, Andy was pretty fucking good at taking
cock, although I hadn't personally partaken.

So that's what we wound up doing. Got some brooms, got some mops, and in
two weeks of sweat-streaked wagon hauls from the storage unit off Rural
Highway 9, down a well-hidden trail through Hirts Woods, we hauled buckets
of water, old towels for makeshift drapes, a deadbolt and padlock latch,
and finally, in what can only be described as a superhuman feat of patience
and balance, a fucking queen size mattress (which took three hours and two
dozen stops), and suddenly we had ourselves a private clubhouse.

We dropped that mattress on our now well-cleaned wooden floor, sweaty and
exhausted and plum tuckered out. We would have broken that fucker in with a
good hard ass fucking, but we were just too tired. Our legs were noodles
walking back.

But the clubhouse was born. Nothing fancy and nothing fine, but dead-hot
private and out in the middle of nowhere, all locked up and we had the
key. A few stolen sheets and a comforter later and we were in business. Oh
fuck, we were in business.

All summer long.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

The first kid I fucked in the clubhouse was Pwince, of course. When you're
trying out a new location, you really want to stick to the basics until you
get your sea legs.

Jackson told Pwince it was finally ready, and that little minx was chomping
at the bit to get fucked in it. He'd had enough of getting fucked on the
ground in a tent in the back yard. Any port in a storm, but let's face it,
the ground is hard and a boy is delicate. Even a little 8-year-old cock
hound like Pwince.

"Is it weally, weally weady?" he asked me hopefully, his bright eyes
sparkling and his fuckable little tail wagging like a puppy.

"It really is," I told him, and later that afternoon, we hiked down the
trail together for the 20 minute walk from the road to the clubhouse. Our
bikes were stashed deep behind some trees and bushes, invisible from the
road.

Jackson wanted to come, but I told him no, I needed some private time with
Pwince. Plus, when those two got together there was also this whole,
protracted ass-sniffing routine they did, with a whole lot of barking and
giggling and pretending to be puppies, and as much as I liked watching the
two of them get their game on, sometimes a guy just likes to get busy and
fuck, you know? Without all the theatrics.

I've fucked Jackson and Pwince so many times since last year, I could tell
you their scent and their bark-giggles by heart, but something about the
new location made Pwince's sweet little puppy pooper look all the more
desirable as it wiggled its way up the trail in front of me. Damn, that
fucker had a nice little boot. Plump and bubbly in all the right places.

Pwince wasn't chubby by a long shot, but he did have a nice meaty
boy-ass. And Lord was it comfy inside. Just a little bit squishy. Don't let
the stories online fool you. They all say, "oh fuck he was tight," and "god
damn, his ass chute squeezed me like a vice," etc. etc., but for fuck's
sake, you don't want that. Too-tight hurts! You want a kid with a little
meat on his bones. You want a nice, hot, snug-squishy ride. Save the vice
for the Nifty stories. You want a kid with some smooth, wet membranes in
there. Still snug, but not sandpaper shaft-scratching. You want a happy
dick when you're done fucking him, not a raw and red one. That was Pwince,
god bless him. A little cushion for the pushin'.

He saw that mattress on the floor as I padlocked the door from the inside
(we had latches on the door both inside and out), and his eyes lit up like
Christmas morning and he was out of his clothes and bare naked on that
fucker before you could say lickity split, which I intended to do before I
dicked him hard, make no mistake about that.

"Oh wow, oh wow," he giggled madly. "This is weally, weally cool!"

He rolled on the mattress in pure happy boy joy. Keep in mind, up to this
point, I'd only fucked Pwince in the tent, and like I said, that ground's
pretty hard. Getting banged on an actual mattress was a Hilton Grand
Vacation to this kid.

"I'm glad you like it," I growled at him lustfully. "Now how about you get
that ass up in the air and spread those cheeks so I can have a little taste
of what's inside."

"Oh wow," he giggled. "I WUVV this cwubhouse!!"

Pwince got on his hands and knees and head-down, bottom-up, presented me
with the finest, sweetest starfish it's ever been my pleasure to munch on,
and believe me, by the time the summer was over, I'd nibbled quite a few.

I wish I could explain the taste of Pwince's hiney as I snuffled his cheeks
and dove into his pleasure center with a grateful tongue. It was a 50
percent mix of green apples and vinegar, with a 50 percent bounceback of
musky clay and tropical fruit body wash. It was like a secret recipe in
there, every single time I licked him, and the minute my tongue tasted his
familiar flavor, my cock lurched and started to ooze pre-cum at the tip.

"Come here," I said to him tenderly, after I'd licked his anus for five
happy, squiggly minutes.

We laid down next to each other on the mattress and started kissing. Deep
french kisses with tongues and hunger. Kissing was a new thing for me and
Pwince. We started out fuck buddies, 15 and 8, but we'd moved up to lovers
somehow, eager and learning. Every time I kissed him now, he wrapped his
little arms around my neck and made happy mewing noises like a whimpering
kitten. Meows of lust and brotherlike love as his little fingers pulled me
tighter toward his mouth, and his little hard dickie played chopsticks on
my belly.

I kissed him and held him to me, and started to finger his asshole, still
wet with my own spit. He pushed back against my invading digit, eager to
have me inside him again, like we did in the tent, like we did at his Cub
Scout camp when everybody else was swimming, like we did in his bedroom,
silent and quick, while our moms talked in the kitchen and his dad grilled
burgers in the yard.

"I wuv you, Casey. I weally do," he whispered. I pulled him to me and
kissed his eyelids. He smiled and melted into me.

I fingered his bottom and kissed his sweet mouth. I licked his neck and
sucked his sweet salt; his perfect perspiration. He smelled soft and spicy,
like light cinnamon and buckwheat honey. Little boys' sweat doesn't smell
like ours does. It's sweeter, purer, like cookies baking. He was hot from
the hike, but I liked him in heat. I liked him all sweaty-wet for me.

"And I wuvv this cwubhouse," he whispered breathlessly.

I kissed his nose and I nibbled on his lower lip. His little hand reached
down to grip my hard cock.

"Pwease put it in me," he whispered, turning around so I could spoon him
and enter him sideways, one of his favorites. "Wock me wike a baby."

He melted back against me, bodies warm and oh-so click-in-place. And
gently, I lubed my cock and aimed it toward Pwince's honey-hot anus, and
wrapping my arms around his tiny chest, slid my aching-hard love-length
into his squishy-hot boyslot.

He sighed as he took me, and smiled with his eyes closed. It was a long,
secret key sliding into a sweet, familiar lock, riding slowly back and
forth, kissing his neck, nibbling his earlobes, listening to him coo, and
whispering how much I loved him as I pumped him full of shinyhard dickneed
and summertime secrets, until eventually I filled him lovingly with my
grateful, tingling, bubble-over fuckcum.

I kissed his lips tenderly as I ejaculated inside him.

God bwess Pwince, who I weally, weally loved that summer.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

"So what about Raven and the other kids," I asked my brother as my dick was
going in and out of his pre-pubescent pooper.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Jackson grunted in rhythm. "Less talk, more
fuck."

"I want those other kids!" I thrusted.

"NNNNGHHH!" he grunted.

"You promised!" I thrusted.

"NNNNGHHH!" he grunted.

I mean, after all, I built a fucking clubhouse. I hauled a mattress, which
was no easy feat.

I blasted sauce up my brother's rump and I'm sure he saw sparkles.

"Soon," he panted breathlessly. "I'm working on it. Soon."

I ground in deep and stirred the jizz load all across his prostate.

"NNNNNNNNN..." he happy-winced, pushing back against me.

"You like it, don't you?" I smiled to myself, twirling cream against his
little fuck nut as a few stray drops bubbled out around the connection
between my shaft and his puffy ass lips. Link leak, I like to think of
that. I scooped some up with a finger and fed it to his mouth. He sucked it
off me immediately and said "mmmm."

"I do like it," he whispered. "I like it when you fuck me."

"Good," I said. "Now get those other kids in here so they can like it too."

"Okay," he said, and pushed his ass back against my still-hard cock.

"Again," he grunted. "Fuck me again."

If there's one thing better than fucking your little brother in your
private clubhouse, it's fucking him twice.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

I wasn't the only landlord who took in tenants that sweet clubhouse
summer. Steve fucked his little friend Andy.

Andy was a hot little fucker, and usually they did it in the attic at
Andy's house, where Steve babysat and Andy had his playroom.

Steve told me Andy was the perfect mix of red-hot fuck-minx, and innocent
little boy. He could take a cock like a champion pole-dancer, but still
called butt sex "bee-effing" out of shyness. He could suck your dick like a
hundred-dollar whore, but he couldn't bring himself to say the word out
loud. He still called Steve's penis his "C-O-C-K" and God, that made me
hard. Fucking a kid who still talked baby talk? Over the moon.

The kicker was, Steve and Andy's mom's sort of knew it was going on, but
apparently there was some weird "no harm, no foul" rule in play, or maybe
it was "don't ask, don't tell," or whatever it was, Steve had been fucking
Andy for pretty much a full year up in that attic, and nobody seemed too
put out by it, even though we were talking about 15-year-old teen cock
going up 8-year-old boy butt. Whatever it was, Andy wasn't
complaining. Actually egged it on, Steve said. Started the whole thing, if
that's even possible.

Anyway, Steve and Andy had a great time in the clubhouse. I tried to horn
in on some of the action, but Steve assured me Andy wasn't ready for
threebies yet. In fact, he made me hide in the trees until Andy was in
place, and then he only allowed me to peek through a crack in the
towel-curtains.

I stood there outside on my tiptoes, jacking off intently and
enthusiastically, while I watched Steve fuck Andy doggie-style on the
mattress inside, and man, could that kid take a fuck. He had a look of pure
blissed-out determination on his face. And the sound was muted on my end,
but I'm pretty sure Andy was talking plenty dirty while he took Steve's
cock up his ass. I heard some body parts being spelled, that's for sure.

Steve flipped him over on his back toward the end, threw his legs over his
shoulders, stuck a foot in his mouth, and fucked Andy so hard, I swear I
heard him squeal from the treetops. Andy was on my bucket list. Put a
bookmark in that little fucker I thought, as I grunted in envy and shot my
load all over the wall of the clubhouse as Steve let loose with a firehose
up Andy's sweet muff.

The two of them collapsed in a sweaty heap on the mattress, kissing and
licking and loving each other. I was jealous and happy at the same time. I
wanted to be in there, all tangled up in their slippery limbs, but I was
honored I saw them make love from a distance.

Later after Andy left, I sucked his ass-flavor off Steve's thick cock and
pronounced it a meal for a king. I fucked Steve three times that afternoon
and I couldn't get enough of him, pretending his ass was Andy's.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Next that summer, Steve and I fucked Jackson and Pwince. Side by side,
their bottoms in the air. We ate them first, then watched them play doggie
sniffers, then we fucked the ever loving pussy out of them. It was almost
like a contest. Who could make them squeak the most? Who could make them
shiver the most? Who could make their hard little wieners bounce up and
down, untouched, while we banged away at their backsides?

Steve won. Jackson came twice. Pwince only came once, but he ate my jizz
load like a baby bird waiting for a chewed-up worm when I pulled my dick
out of his ass last second, flipped his head around, and shot my load in
his hungry, open mouth.

"Oh yeah," Steve whispered, impressed. "Way to go man. Make him drink it
all."

That's the beauty of fucking two boys with your best friend. You can cheer
each other on and give points for good technique. Pwince gobbled cum and
Steve nodded proudly and offered me a fist bump.

Jackson just smiled and rubbed his sore asshole.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

I fucked a kid named Fiji in the clubhouse. Isn't that a bizarre name?
Fiji? Seriously? That's like the drinking water, right? The bottle with the
pretty pictures on it. The palm trees and the flowers and shit.

Anyway, weird name or not, that kid was a great fuck. He definitely knew
what he was doing.

He was an older friend of Jackson's from down the street. 11, I think.

Apparently, the kid was getting it on with his own dad? I don't
know. That's what Jackson claimed. I don't ask questions. Sometimes it's
better not to know that stuff. It gets complicated when you know what
grown-ups do with their kids. Suddenly you're always on the lookout for
them. Corner of the eye in the grocery store stuff. You know they're
fucking their kid. They know you're fucking their kid. You're
co-fuckers. There's a raised eyebrow when you make eye contact with each
other. An understanding. A n almost creepy "wanna share him?" Suddenly, it
takes on a whole new level.

Besides, when the kids showed up at the clubhouse that summer, tentatively
knocking on the door at their pre-arranged time because Jackson was such a
good little pimp at keeping my steady supply coming, I really didn't give
two shits about who was doinking their asses back home. Dads and Uncles,
knock yourselves out when he's on the clock at your place, but today in the
clubhouse, your little boy is mine.

They hid their bikes in the bushes, walked down the trail, and showed up at
the clubhouse ready to play, and that's all I needed to know. I just wanted
to put my dick inside something hot and wet, and Fiji certainly fit the
bill when I finally let loose in his sweet little jelly jar. Too bad he was
only a two-for-one special before he went back home to Daddy, because damn,
I could have fucked that kid all summer long. He was creative.

He was a little French kid. Half French. Half American. Exchange student,
or transfer student or some shit. Fuck, I don't know. But his ass was
divine, and my God, that kid loved to role play.

"Pretend I'm a robber," he smiled, when the preliminary awkwardness was out
of the way and we were half-undressed on the mattress. And then, FUCK! He
pulled out a couple of shiny Mardi Gras eye masks and asked me "Green or
Blue?" giving me a choice.

"Um, blue," I stammered, thinking quickly, not quite sure where this train
was headed, but damned if I wanted to be left behind at the station.

"Okay," he smiled, strapping one on. "Now pretend I'm a robber, and I break
in your clubhouse, and you catch me, and I'm just a kid robber, so you have
to push me down and you have to fuck me for my punishment. Okay?"

"Um...okay," I said, lubing up my cock and not knowing what to make of this
crazy little fucker. I mean, it's not that I minded. A kid lets me fuck
him, he can play any game he wants. I'm just not used to taking stage
direction.

"Er, you want to actually come through a window or something, or should we
just take it from here," I asked him, nodding at the mattress, not really
knowing what to expect.

"From here is okay," he said, putting on his mask, lying belly-down on the
mattress and spreading his ass cheeks for me. Holy shit. No time wasted
seducing this one. He was ripe and wriggly and ready to go.

"Bad robber," I said as I swatted his ass playfully. He giggled, whispered
"oh yes" so almost-inaudibly it made my cock lurch. "What do you think I
should do to a little robber boy who breaks into my secret headquarters."

"I don't know," he said quietly, and I could see his shoulders shiver as
his butt pulsed. "I don't know what you should do."

"Should I teach him a lesson?"

I swatted his ass again, a harder crack. He moaned and shivered.

"Oh yes," he whispered. "Teach him a hard lesson, Casey."

SMACK. I paddled him again. I saw goosebumps form on his skinny little
arms.

"Again, robber boy. What should I do?"

"Fuck me?" he peeped quietly.

I swatted him again.

"I should do what?" I asked, in a voice more demanding.

"Fuck me," he whined, gyrating his ass, and pointing it up toward me. My
dick was lubed and aching, ready to go.

CRACK! Again, I gave him a harder one.

"Ow," he whined, a little more impressed this time.

"Say it louder, little robber boy. Tell me what I should do."

"Fuck me!" he yelled, and this time he meant it. "I think you should fuck
me!"

With no further talk, I lined my mushroom head to the pulse of his anus and
slowly pushed forward, watching his shoulderblades tense as my girth slid
up into him, and then and audible "ohhhhhhhh," a long, drawn-out sigh of
relief from his itchy young shitter as I breached both his sphincters and
locked my cock into him, pubes touching butt cheeks.

"Oh, yesssss," Fiji whispered. "I'm a very naughty robber."

I deeply fucked him, in and out. He pushed back against me and made little
whimpering noises. I could smell the scent of him rising up from beneath
us, earthy like clay and cloying like vinegar and fuck need. He grinded
like he needed this. He smelled like he was in heat.

"Oh, yesssss," he whispered again, pushing back against my deepest
instrokes.

"Bad robber," I whispered as I laid my full weight down on top of him and
nibbled on his ear lobe. "You should never rob me again."

"Oh no," he whispered grunting with my thrusts. "I'll be good next time..."

"You promise...?"

"Promise," he grunted. "But fuck me harder, just in case."

I picked up my pace and it didn't take long. I fucked him faster for about
two more minutes, until I could smell the sweat of my pubes outmatching the
sweetness of his ass in the air, and just before I was about to pull out
and re-lube, he whispered, "I'm cumming! Nnngh! I'm gonna tickle-cum,
Casey!" which immediately sent me over the edge, and with two more fast
thrusts, I was blasting my load up his cock-gripping colon.

"Oh yesssssssssssss!" he cried. "So good, so good..."

"OH FUCK," I grunted. "Fucking...little...robber...teach you to rob from
me, fucking little robber boy."

My chest was heaving, cock was pulsing, cum was
flowing..."NNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" I grunted as I blasted him good.

"So good, so good," he whispered again. And sure enough, when I rolled him
over, he'd squirted a watery line of clear juice on the comforter below
him. I paddled it up with a fingertip and sucked it into my mouth. It was
sweet, like a line of clear corn syrup.

The elastic band of his Mardi Gras mask was lined with sweat
droplets. Little rivulets of boy salt that bore testament to the fuck I'd
just given him. He squeezed his ass muscles and milked the last drops out
of my cock, and I lay there spent, still hard inside him.

"You play good," he sighed. "You should meet my daddy. We should all play."

"Someday," I whispered, breathless and satiated. "Maybe someday, little
robber boy."

"Pretend you want to do it again," Fiji whispered, as his ass sucked on my
cock. "Pretend I robbed you twice."

My cock-hardened instantly, and he scooted up on his hands and knees,
presented his cum-dripping butthole to me, open and red and the shape of my
dick. I gave it a swat, heard him moan, and dove in with my tongue, sucking
the cum out and making more room for my second, smaller load.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Steve and I double-teamed a boy that summer in the clubhouse.

His name was Barrett and he was a kid from our block.

Barrett we knew for sure was having some man sex.

His lover was Steve's uncle Scott. "Scooby" we called him. Uncle "Scooby"
fucked little Stevie too, back in the day, before he aged out of his
AoA. Then he moved on to Barrett.

Uncle Scooby liked to fuck Barrett in the bathtub, of all places. He liked
to go babysit him, then have his way with the little scamp, standing up in
Grand Shower Central. He told Steve the kid could take a stand-up fuck like
nobody's business. "Bite him on the back of the neck a little...just a
little when you're cumming in him...he likes that a lot."

So, when it came time for Steve and I to co-fuck Barrett, it was wheels-up
and full throttle; that was one kid who knew how to take a fuck and he was
ready for both of us, one right after another, as long as we fucked him
standing up against the wall.

"I like it this way," he told us when his pants were off. "I like getting
fucked when you stand up behind me. Like your uncle does me. Like Scott
does. Like Scooby."

Steve fucked him first while I stood there and whistled, stroking my cock
and waiting for my turn.

Then after Steve came, I lined up and pushed in. He was wet and he smelled
good.

We didn't use Vaseline. We used Barrett's preferred lube choice
instead. He'd brought it along with him in a little Ziplock back, just like
Scooby said he would.

"I like this better," he said, handing me the bottle and popping the top
for me. "It smells good. And it tingles."

I lubed my cock and took my turn, fucking Barrett up against the clubhouse
wall with the stuff he wanted my lubed with. It made my piss slit burn a
little, but those are the breaks. If a kid wants my cock up his ass, he can
grab year-old butter out of the fridge for all I care.

Barrett's was sweeter. Barrett's was juicy. Steve and I fucked Barrett with
Kid's Choice Watermelon 2-in-1 Shampoo and Conditioner. Whoof. Talk about
blowing bubbles out of your ass.

It was a fruity-smelling, frothy double butt-fuck and by the time it was
over, Barrett, Steve and yours-so-truly were clean as a whistle, inside and
out.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

"Come on, man," I goaded Jackson as his little lips slid up and down on my
dick shaft. "Am I ever getting Raven? I've had all the rest of them!"

"And I want Julian!" Steve hollered from the corner, while Pwince squatted
over him, impaling himself on about five inches of cock. We'd added a
couple of chairs to the clubhouse, which came in handy for straddle fucks.

"You guys are pwetty impatient," gwumbled Pwince, as he swid his wectum
down Steve's stwaining stwetcher.

"We just want our playdate," I shrugged as Jackson sped up, and I knew I
was close.

"Fine," Pwince gwunted. "Fwiday at thwee."

Steve fucked him harder, just hearing the date set, while I grabbed Jackson
by the ears and helped him with his project.

"Good boy, Jackson," I whispered as I throat pumped him. "I knew you'd come
through for us."

He hummed a tune that made my shaft buzz.

"Mmm-hmm" he buzzed with doe-eyed pride. I love it when a kid looks up at
me while he's sucking my cock. There's no better sight in the world than a
kid with his mouthful looking up innocently, as if to ask, "am I doing it
right?"

"Good boy," I whispered. "You're a very good boy, Jackson. Now open wide
and swallow it, baby. Swallow it all."

"Nnnggh," he gagged, as my balls opened up and the cream flooded into
him. "Nnnngh," he grunted, as he swallowed and gobbled and gleefully
gagged.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

And finally in the clubhouse that summer, the package was delivered and the
two soft knocks on the door told us that heaven had arrived in t-shirts and
cargo shorts – the sweetest pre-teen boy vaginas this side of paradise.

Raven and Julian.

Rave and Julie, we soon grew to call him, because frankly, "Rave" sounds
cool and "Julie" kinda fit the kid's general girlishness. He had this whole
"lick my pussy" thing going on which would have been alarming if he wasn't
so good at it. Steve and I were happy to humor him. If a kid lets me stick
my tongue up the place where he poops, frankly, he can pretend it's any
gender he wants. Lay there and baaaa, and you can call it a sheep for all I
care.

So, Rave and Julie were last in the pecking order, but tops in my
book. Well, bottoms, actually, but why mix semantics? All you need to know
is they were damn good fucks.

I took a turn on Raven first while Steve banged Julie, then we switched off
like a WWE tag team. By the time we were done they both had shell-shocked
smiles, glassy eyes, and Julie had visible semen running down his right
thigh. Mine, I think, but I could have been mistaken. Steve was no slouch
when it came to unloading. Man, I don't even know what order to write it
in:

Me on Rave, Steve on Rave.

Me on Julie, Steve on Julie.

Me on Rave:

He was nervous at first. Jackson had apparently oversold him on the
mythical girth of my ginormous 5-inch penis, because they first thing he
said when everybody's pants came off was, "Are you sure it's gonna fit in
me? It looks kinda big."

Julie leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. "It'll fit. You'll see."

I took it easy on him. We hugged and kissed a lot at first. I sucked his
penis and licked his little acorn nuts. His ball skin was loose and floppy
and tasted like maple.

Slowly, I fingered him and loosened him up. He tensed at first, then slowly
responded.

"Okay," he said. "You can put it in now, but go slow, real slow. Ow,
ow. Slower, slower."

I did what he asked, and in no time at all, I was short-tipping him with my
first three inches. I didn't want to get greedy, and he looked a little
scared and sweaty, so that's all I used in him.

"Is it okay?" I asked him, genuinely worried.

"Slow," he winced. I never had a big one before.

Hearing him call mine "a big one" of course made it bigger, and his little
winces were about to send me over the edge in no time.

I tried to push it in him just a little further, but he tensed up and
grabbed my arms, afraid, so I immediately backed off and stopped again at
the three inch-mark.

He seemed to relax, and five minutes later when I came in him, he seemed no
worse for the wear, and willing, though not outright eager to give Steve a
try.

Steve on Rave:

Steve wasn't nearly as polite as I was.

"Come here, sexy," he grunted. He'd just finished with his first round on
Julian, so unfortunately for Rave, he was going to have some staying power
for this one. Steve's cock was still hard, and still slippery with Vaseline
and jizz from the load he'd plowed into Julie, and he was clearly ready for
sloppy second's in my boy's tender and tentative bottom.

But when Rave said go, expecting the same kid gloves my cock had given him,
he slid into Rave, all five inches deep with a take-no-prisoner's approach
that made the poor kid gasp and bawk like a rooster. He hadn't expected the
whole thing to slide into him so far and so fast.

"Yep," Steve said with a grin as he held it in place and let Raven get used
to it. "That's what big boy cock feels like when it's all the way in. Think
you can handle that, baby?"

Raven gulped but nodded his head bravely.

"You gotta show them who's boss," Steve said to me later in the post-game
recap. "It's all fun and games, but comes a time when a boy's gotta learn."

Raven was brave as he nodded assent. He grabbed the comforter with his
fists and gave Steve the go-ahead.

"Look, Casey," Steve called over to me, "It's like Dr. Seuss. Rave is
Brave."

Raven smiled nervously. He looked pale as a ghost, but determined.

"You can do it, buddy," Julian assured him. "It really feels good once he
gets going."

Rave nodded unsure. All false bravado and not much of that.

Steve said, "Good boy. Let's get to work."

And that's exactly what they did.

Steve long-dicked the kid. No three-inch debutante's balling from his long
cock. Rave squirmed for a while, almost tried to squiggle away, then
suddenly got the hang of things, compliant at first, then actually active,
gaining speed, gaining confidence, and by the time it was over, actually
pushing back against the fuck, grabbing Steve's arms and throwing back his
head with closed eyes and a smile, proud he was finally a big boy too.

Nothing makes an 11-year-old prouder than surviving his first butt-fuck.

It's a scary proposition sometimes, but there's a measure of great relief
and self-satisfaction when it turns out, yes, you can do it after all.

Me on Julie:

"Can we kiss a lot first?" he asked me shyly, while Steve was banging Rave,
which was kind of cute and overly innocent, considering Steve's first load
of cum was still dripping from his butt. I mean, I like innocence as much
as the next guy, but when you've already got another guy's semen leaking
out of your rectum, don't oversell it. But I was game for his sweet
coquettishness.

"Oh, little sweetie, we can kiss as much as you want."

And his little tongue was darting and divine. Like a jumpy little June bug,
skittering in and out of my mouth, licking at my lips and nipping at my
teeth, for a minute I thought he had a little ADHD issue, but nope, no
worries, that was just the way he kissed.

And when it came time to exchange blowjobs, he sucked my bone with
exquisite tenderness, his ruby pink lips stretched wide around my shaft
with obscene beauty and almost gargantuan effort.

"I like sucking big cocks," he said quietly. "They taste good. They smell
good."

He took it in far, far back into his throat. His eyes watered, but he
didn't gag for a minute. He'd done this before. I wondered what big boy had
been the lucky recipient. With slender little fingers, he poked his own
butthole while he sucked me to heaven. Sucked Raven's flavor off my cock. I
watched his little wet finger poke in and out of his happy hole and I knew
I was going to cum. He felt me quicken and stopped instantaneously.

"No," he whispered. "Don't waste it in my mouth. I want it in my pussy."

With no prompting at all, and movement so smooth he could have been a
leopard -- a hot little boy tiger stalking his prey -- he climbed aboard
me, straddled me fully, and knees at my side, lowered himself onto the
straining hard length of my cock with one silent glide, eyes closed tight
and his head tilted back like a sigh, like a prayer. He opened his eyes and
he looked directly in mine.

"Now," he said, satisfied. "Now you can do it. Now you can cum in my
pussy."

It didn't take long. I grabbed his hips and slid him up and down nine or
ten times, then grunted with fucknoise, "UNNNNGGGGH," as I pulled him down
hard and started creaming his bowels. A little squirt of piss flew out of
his dick when I jam-rammed his ass nut. He looked at me proudly. He'd
gotten it right where he needed it. His ass sucked my cock shaft like a
happy little vampire.

"Nice," he said. "That feels juicy. Squishy and good."

He wiggled around on it a little and I felt my cream stir into his
membranes.

"Oh God, I groaned. Keep doing that. Keep doing that."

He got me so hard I fucked him again. Twice in a row. And that's saying
something when you're out in the woods on a hot summer day.

Did I leave one out? Oh yeah, back it up to when I was fucking Rave.

Steve on Julie:

More of the same. I didn't quite watch, so I don't know the specifics. I
was too busy coaxing Rave into relaxation that first time, I knew Steve was
fucking Julie, I saw flashes of flesh and moments of movement from the
other side of the mattress but my mind was preoccupied.

That's the bitch about side-by-side boy fucking. Sometimes you're in sync
and it's hot to cheer each other on. Other times, you've got a situation on
your hands and you're lost in your own little world working out the
particulars, sideshow be damned.

It kind of sucked that Steve got to deep-fuck Raven, and I only got the
halfway ride, but I came three times that afternoon, so in the grand scheme
of ejaculation out in the woods, I met my quota, with another round of
Pwince coming up later that night, so I had to save something for him. We
left the boys cum-dripping and satisfied as we all got dressed and called
it a day.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Raven came back alone the next day and knocked on the clubhouse door. Steve
was off at Andy's house, babysitting and fucking, so I had the woods to
myself.

Raven's return was a pleasant surprise. I'd actually been expecting
Jackson, so when Rave showed up telling me he was pinch hitting for a
relief inning, I was more than welcome to pat the mattress and welcome him
to my side.

I quickly helped him undress. Unsnapped his pants and zipped them
down. Lifted his shirt over his head and marveled at the beauty of his
little dime-size nipples and his shiny little pecs.

"What made you come back?" I asked him. "You seemed kind of nervous with me
yesterday."

"I wanted another one," he shrugged. "A deeper one like Steve gave me. I
didn't let you get in me far enough yesterday. I was kinda scared."

"You're not scared anymore?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "It only hurts for the first ten seconds. Then it feels
like a big poop coming out."

Boys are so romantic.

"Okay," I smiled. So this was a make-good. Fine with me. I unbuttoned my
pants and let my dick spring out. He sucked in air a little and shivered
when he saw it.

"Wow, that's big," he said with quiet respect, and again, that flash of
nervousness. "I forgot how big."

"Just a little bigger than Steve's," I said reassuringly. "It's not a big
deal. It'll all fit."

"Thicker," he said. "It stretches me more."

That much was true.

He reached out gingerly and wrapped a little hand around it.

"Why don't you suck it for me. Get it wet," I suggested.

He tentatively swiped the tip with his tongue, lapping up a silver drop of
pre-cum.

"Mine doesn't make that," he giggled. "Yours gets juice even before your
juice comes out."

"Only when it sees a pretty boy," I told him.

He grinned and blushed. "You think that I'm pretty?"

"I think you are very pretty."

He seemed pleased by this.  "How many boys have you done stuff with?" he
asked me plainly, still squeezing the pre-cum out of my dick and licking it
off.

"Counting you?" I wondered.

"Uh-huh," he said, taking my cockhead in his little mouth while I leaned
back and sighed.

"About ten million," I moaned, and I felt him smile around my dick tip.

He bobbed up and down slowly, taking his time, swirling me with his
tongue. His little hand reached up to cup my balls. There's nothing better
than slender tween fingers on your balls. His middle finger even snaked
down my taint a little to the gateway of my asshole, and I'll be damned if
the little monkey didn't start to finger my ass a little while he sucked
me.

"You wanna fuck me, Raven?" I whispered to his bobbing head. "Is that what
you're doing down there?"

His finger pulled back immediately and his mouth came off my dick.

"Oh, no," he said quickly, embarrassed and blushing. "I was just messing
around. I'm sorry, I'll stop."

"No," I said. "It felt good. Keep going."

He looked up at me. "Really?"

"Yeah. I like having my butt played with."

He smiled. Relaxed. He did it some more.

"Does anybody ever fuck YOU?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "Steve. A few other guys. Jackson once."

He giggled.

"Jackson fucked YOU?"

"Mmm-hmm," I nodded, guiding his head back toward my dick. (Enough talk).

"Could you even feel it?" he giggled.

"A little at the beginning, then mostly at the end, when he sped up."

The talk was making his dick hard. I looked down and his little peg was
hard as steel.

"Flip around and let me suck that little cock of yours."

He flipped around and straddled my face, sucking my bone while his little
nail found its slot in my mouth. We bobbed like that in mutual pleasure for
about five more minutes, my hands reaching for the Vaseline, lubing up a
forefinger and pressing it slowly into his ass while we sucked each
other. He might get to fuck me someday, this little one, but today was not
the day.

"Get your butt up in the air," I asked him politely. "It's time for you to
take some cock."

I pushed my finger in him slowly and deeper. Then I wiggled it around,
stretching his anus, doing the "come here" crook inside of his bottom to
stretch him out for a more painless dick entry.

When I knew he was ready I pulled him off my dick and asked him how he
wanted it.

"On my belly," he said quickly. "I like it flat on my belly."

"But you can't touch yourself then. You can't jack off when I'm doing you."

"That's okay," he said quickly. "I like it that way. I like what it feels
like when I'm pinned down like that."

Hot, I thought, as I climbed on top of him and pressed my dick to his gate.

"Go slow," he said quickly. "Please? Really slow?" He was scared again.

"Shhh, it's okay, Raven. I won't hurt you. I promise."

Slowly, a stretching half-inch at a time, I laid my five-inch pipe into him
as he grunted and adjusted until finally my pubes were resting on his butt.

"Okay?" I asked.

"Just a second," he grunted. "Just hold it for a second." I felt him
grunting, shifting, getting ready for more.

"Wow," he said, half-laugh, half-cry. "I just never thought I could fit
this much. You know. Way up in there like that."

"You feel good, Raven. Really hot inside. Really good. I love how you
feel."

My soothing talk seemed to relax him even more.

"Okay," he said confidently. "I'm good. You can go."

I pulled out halfway and I slid back into him again. God, he was hot
inside. Just a perfect little oven. Wet and slippery. A slider's paradise.

I leaned forward and put my whole weight on him.

"Too heavy?" I asked him.

"No," he grunted, adjusting to my weight. I could hear he was
breathless. "Good. I like it."

Lifting my hips up and down but keeping my chest to his back, I gave him a
quiet soft fuck on the mattress of our clubhouse. I heard the soft
slip-squish of my Vaseline-creamy cock gliding in and out of his asshole
and heard the labored panting breathing of his squish-pinned body beneath
me. Some boys like to be dominated that way. It fulfills a need. They don't
know the word for it yet, but they need to be overtaken like this. It's
needed surrender. It's complete acquiescence.

He sighed under the weight of me, fully pinned, and fully fucked. I could
tell how much he liked it this way as all the tension drained out of his
shoulders and he lay there, surrendered, sighing and whimpering quietly.

"I'm close," I warned him. "I'm really, really close. You sure you don't
want me to jack you off while I cum in you?"

"No," he said quickly, clenching his ass around me as if to keep me in
place. "Do it just like this. Please! Stay laying on me! Don't get up!" It
was almost a panic.

"Shhh," I whispered. "I'm right here. I won't go anywhere."

I slowly pumped into him, then quickened my pace as my cumload was
imminent.

"Harder," he whispered right at the end. "Really go deep. Really go
hard. Squish me down! Pin me down hard!"

I rammed my cock as far as it would go.

"OOOF!" he grunted. "Yeah, like that! Pin me harder!"

I collapse my full weight on him. He whimpered and oofed.

"Like THIS?" I grunted and rammed him again.

"Oh please!" he whimpered. "Please do it more!"

I pushed down with even more body weight. I was really ramming him. His joy
whines were maddening. I had to cum. I rammed him hard with a couple deep
thrusts and then it was over.

"Oh yes," he grunted. "Squish me. Cum." He could barely get the words out,
I had so much weight on him.

Pushing forward and freezing in place, my cum blew out of me like a million
wild fireflies, sparkling and dancing in front of my eyes.

"NNNNGGGH!!!!" I grunted.

He gasped and strained for breath, but he was shaking all over. Gasping and
shaking, laboring to breathe.

Raven's ass squeezed my cock, gobbled up my load like a sweet mini milking
machine. Spent, I rolled off him and I heard him take a deep breath, his
lungs now free to breathe freely again.

"You like that?" I asked breathlessly. "Being pinned down like that?"

"It feels so good," he said in a small, embarrassed voice. "I feel so
helpless that way. I can't help it he said. But I like it. It's helpless."

"Helpless?" I asked him?

"Yeah. But it's a good helpless."

No doubt about it, Rave was born to be loved this way. And it was an honor
to be his first.

I kissed him softly and we spent the afternoon, quiet and cuddling. More
passion. More pins. The enormous weight of secret love and boyhood in the
clubhouse.

The summer went on in endless combinations. Me with Rave and me with
Julian. Solos, duos, Jackson, Pwince. Steve and Andy, Barrett and
Fiji. Even some other little neighbor boys we seduced along the way.

I was 15 that summer, and so was Steve. The boys we loved were 8 and 9. 10,
11, and 12. Younger boys, pretty boys. Some would only suck us, or jack off
and look at porn. A couple would fuck each other, but wouldn't let us near
them. Our big cocks were like fear sticks to some of the little ones, but
that was cool too.

All in all, it was a marvelous summer, a sexual summer, the best I ever did
see. There's no going back now to those days, of course. Kids grow up, but
still, you keep their memory. The feel of their lips, the scent of their
cocks, the grip of their asses. It was summertime sweet, and semen, and
magic.

It's a magic place, childhood. Where every kid feels safe and sexy and
perfectly free down that path in the woods, where every boy who's good and
hard, deserves a fuck in a private little clubhouse.

Hide your bike in the bushes, friend.

You come too.

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THE END

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Author's Note:

It was one of those beautiful summers where everybody sorta knew everybody:

Casey, Jackson & Pwince also appear in:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/doggie-sniffers
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/pwince-is-pwegnant

Steve & Andy also appear in:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/andy-in-the-attic

Barrett & Scooby also appear in:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/barrett-in-the-bathtub

Fiji and his daddy also appear in:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/pretend-im/pretend-im-asleep
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/pretend-im/pretend-im-a-girl
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/pretend-im/pretend-im-a-puppy

And Raven and Julian don't have their own spin-off yet, but give me time.
The summer's still young. And so are they.

Now you know your ABC's, next time won't you sing with me?

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Drop me a line.

Love,
Zach
z.blake@mail.com