Date: Sun, 24 Apr 2016 19:20:51 +0100 (BST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Raven in the Rainstorm

RAVEN IN THE RAINSTORM
By Zachyboy
t/t, t/b, oral, anal

The following story is a work of fiction. Never happened, never
will. Should the horrifying notion of a pretend teen plugging a pretend
pre-teen up the pretend butt offend you, please seek your literary escapism
elsewhere.

And please give to the Nifty Archive Alliance. Tall and tan and young and
lovely, the boy from Ipanema goes walking, and when he passes, each one he
passes goes, "ahhhhhh."

Fork it over, pal. They're playing our song.

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

I wonder if they have a chip reader yet.

On with the show.

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

I was 15 that summer, and to this day, I still can't listen to Prince's
"Purple Rain" God rest him, without a nostalgic smile in my soul and a
soft, solid aching in my heart remembering Raven, and how good it felt to
fuck him that night it rained so hard in the clubhouse; the first time he
stayed all night in my arms, smelling like boy sex and french kisses, and
shivering, scared, as I held him tight to my heart in the thunder.

"I hate rainstorms," he told me that night. "They make me have bad dreams."

I wrapped my arms around him and held him tighter. I'd just fucked him and
my first load of cum for the evening was dripping gently out of his open
anus and down his creamy little leg.

"Come here," I whispered. "No bad dreams tonight, Rave. Just you and me and
more of this."

I kissed him again. Reached down. Felt his little spike harden.

"Okay," he whispered. "Take the bad dreams away."

It was the summer of Jackson and Pwince, my 8-year-old brother and his
horny little school friend. The boy who couldn't pwonounce his ow's. The
boy who wanted me to fuck his widdle wump and make him pwegnant.

It was the summer of my best friend Steve, who was also 15. Steve who I
fucked and sucked. Steve who fucked and sucked me. Steve who had a boy of
his own, Andy, who was 8. And Steve who first fucked Raven and Julian right
by my side, buns-up in the clubhouse, when they were both 11.

It was a summer of fucking little boys. A sweet, dirty, purple rain summer,
lusty with teenage hormones, brand new thick cum and thunderstorms. I came
so deep and thick inside Raven's delicious little treasure hole that summer
as thunder crashed and lightning lit up the clubhouse, I'm sure he'll never
forget it, wherever he is.

When I think back on all the sex in my life, Raven was the best, you know.

It'll be Raven in the rainstorm until my dying day.

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

"Little Red Corvette" was playing on the radio in the clubhouse and my best
friend Steve was quizzing me on my latest solo time with Raven after school
the day before.

"Can he take your whole cock yet?" he asked me. "You know. Down the throat?
Without gagging?"

"He can take it wherever I put it," I told him.

"Good," Steve grinned. "He had some problems with that part when he sucked
me. I had to hold his head in place."

True to form, Steve did not suffer a shallow-throated beejay gladly. Boys
were known to get a little misty-eyed from the effort when Steve's cock was
in the driver's seat and down their throats. They got a little
involuntarily teary-eyed.

Sometimes I fucked Rave while Steve fucked his best buddy Julian. Both boys
were 11. Both boys were ripe for 15-year-old teen cock. Sometimes we
switched off. Sometimes we needed private time and fucked the boys by
ourselves. Rave and Julie. Double the pleasure. The clubhouse was open for
all combinations.

Raven was 55 inches tall that summer. That's 4-foot-7. Small for 11. His
cocklet was intact, and a modest 3.5, shooting for four. He'd be a four by
12-years-old for sure. The fact that he had a perfect little penis nozzle
at the end fascinated me, because not many of my friends did that summer.

"How come you like smelling my dick so much," he asked me politely one
afternoon in the clubhouse when I all but had it up my nose."

"I don't know," I shrugged, inhaling the goodness of it. "It seems more
natural this way. It has different smells. New ones and better ones."

It smelled like my mom's graham cracker pie crust when she made banana
cream pie. It smelled like butter when you first peel the paper off. It
smelled like a fresh loaf of bread when you first untwist the top and smell
inside. Pissy, yeasty, maple butter boycock. It tasted every bit as good.

Raven used to rub it on my lips sometimes. I'd lay on my back on the
clubhouse mattress and he's squat over my head. Sometimes I'd indulge him
by eating his asshole.

"Oh yes," he'd moan. "Yes, please, more. Lick your tongue inside me."

My tongue would dig at his miniature pucker like a persistent prospector
panning for gold.

Other times, he'd squat in my face, knees on either side of my ears, little
hips jutted forward, dicklet at my mouth, slowly rubbing it back and forth
across the surface of my lips, like lip balm. Like Chap Stick.

"What's it taste like?" he'd tease me.

"Like boycock, Rave. Like every good thing in the world."

Sometimes he'd giggle and try to piss a drop. Other times he'd just look me
straight in the eyes as he rubbed his peter on my lips, knowing he was
making me so hard by doing it. Knowing he'd make me hard enough where he
could sit back down on my pecker and it would slide up his butthole all the
way down to the root.

Raven was very limber and flexible. By the end of that summer, I'd fucked
him in positions I didn't even know existed.

This was a stretch, no pun intended, because Raven's go-to was to be fucked
down, on his tummy, so I could squish him with my body weight. Raven liked
to be squish-fucked from the very first time I fucked him in the clubhouse
that year.

"I like being pinned," he told me. "It's helpless. But a good helpless."

Sometimes I fucked him deep, tummy down, ass spread open, and made sure he
couldn't move. I made sure I fuck pinned him good for his sake.

Other times, I wanted those little legs of his straight up in the air. Over
my shoulders and headed for glory.

"Aw, fuck man," Steve grinned at me, stroking his long, slender 5-incher
and smearing it with lube, getting ready to fuck me with it. "Tell me you
grabbed that little fucker right by the back of the knees, right?"

Steve was fascinated with my boy fucks and particularly the positions I
used. He couldn't get enough of the day-after recap. The day I fucked that
little French kid Fiji and pretended he was a rubber, Steve actually jacked
off and shot cum on my face, he got so excited listening to me repeat the
details.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered as his slimy sex pudding dripped down my eyelid
and trickled down my cheek. I reached up with a finger and wiped a gob of
his juice in my mouth. Delicious like it always was.

"I love when you tell it," he said. "You always tell it good."

Today he hadn't cum yet. We hadn't fucked yet and his big balls were ready
to burst.

I nodded and wiped a fingerful of Vaseline up the fluttering ache of my
asshole.

"Tell me you held that little fucker's legs up, and grabbed those fucking
knees," Steve grinned. "Oh fuck, man. I get so hard thinking about you
fucking Raven. I know what that little bitch feels like inside. Cut little
nozzle-cocked fucker. I'm so hard just thinking about you fucking him. I'm
gonna give it to you so hard today."

I grabbed his hard cock and jacked a little lube on it.

Steve moaned. "I know you, man. You wanted to get that sweet little ass of
his extra vertical for maximum penetration."

"You like how I fuck him, don't you sicko?" Truth be told, I love it when
Steve talked dirty.

"Fuck yeah," he moaned, with his dick twiddling at my entrance, teasing
me. "That means you did it, fucker. You got that sweet little pussy angled
just the right way for optimal viewing. Mmmm, watching your big fat fuck
meat going in and out of that little hot little pocket, just pounding that
sweet little cunt into total submission."

He was so boned up talking about it, I thought his dick might snap off.

"Tell me you did it. Tell me, you held his knees-up and fucked him extra
hard, you sweet, beautiful bastard."

He spit on his cock and got ready to jam.

"Pig," I grumbled. "I'm not like that. I'm a gentleman. I like a boy to
feel loved and respected. Now hurry up and fuck me."

I winced as he spread my cheeks apart, rubbed his slimy mushroom on my
hole, rammed it forward way too enthusiastically as the topic demanded and
made me see stars.

"Ouch," I grumbled. "I hate it when you're impolite back there."

"Shut up," he said. "I'm pretending you're 11 right now. Talk in a higher
pitch."

I laughed. Well, actually I would have laughed but I was too busy getting
my ass fucked wide open. Steve could fuck hard when he wanted to.

"How's that feel, huh?" he grunted. "You got enough dick in you now?"

"Oh yeah," I nodded, arching back to let him fill me. I could smell my own
ass and the heat of his armpits.

His dick made me tremble. Made me squeeze my eyes shut.Prince was wrapping
up his song as Steve got started. Flashes of lyrics spun in my mind and
throughout the clubhouse radio air Steve fucked my rectum. Baby, you're
much too fast.

"Got an ass like I've never seen," Steve hummed along as he fucked me. "I
say the ride is so smooth, you must be a limousine."

He dug in hard, really rooted me.

"Pretending you're Raven," he whispered. "Clench that ass together for me,
Raven. Make it tight in there."

I squeezed around his cock. Squeezed hard.

"Oh yeah," he grunted. "Here comes your reward, bitch."

Steve closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and worked his dick magic all
the way up into my happy, hot hunger.

Looking back, I just want to whisper the lyrics in his ear.

You can tame my little red love machine any day, Steve.

God, I loved it when you fucked me hard.

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

Fair warning, Steve and I were big fans of recapping our boyfucks that
summer, with particular emphasis on positions and penetration
angles. That's the beauty of being teenage boys with nonstop libidos. When
you're not actually doing it, you're still talking about doing it. Past,
present and future.

At 15, when we weren't fucking each other, we were fucking younger boys,
logistically made easier ever since we renovated that old shack in the
woods and turned it into a functional fuckhouse. Go read "Casey in the
Clubhouse," floating around out here on Nifty somewhere if you want that
sordid tale. Fucking Zachy, man. That guy'll chronicle anything. Even *I*
jack off when I read about me fucking Fiji and Pwince in that one. I didn't
know I could do it that well.

But Steve was right. Grabbing Raven by the back of the knees was my
favorite way to get his hole at the right angle. Plus it meant I got to do
the classic ass-pull toward my leaking cock with a firm grip on the side of
his beautiful upper thighs. I used to just grab onto some leg purchase and
slide that hot little honeypot right down the sheets and about 12-inches
closer to my cockhead with one swift pull.

"God, that's exciting," he'd say. "I love it when you do that."

"Pull you down the mattress?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "It makes me feel all helpless again. Good and
helpless. Like you can't wait to fuck me."

"I CAN'T wait to fuck you," I assured him. "You have no idea how much I
want to get inside you right now. I think about it all day long at
school. I can't wait to get out here."

He'd just smile then and wait for the inevitable. I did the ankle yank
often.

"Sometimes at school," he said, "if there's nobody in the bathroom when I
pee, I go in the stall and I finger my hole. I pretend you're in there with
me. I pretend you fuck me up against the wall in the toilet. I jacked off
once. My finger was your cock."

I moaned and leaked 15-year-old pre-cum on the sheets. I yanked him down
and lined him up. I felt it take his breath away.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard today," I promised him.

When I yanked Raven down the clubhouse mattress, I wanted it to surprise
him. I wanted to get him lined up fast. I wanted him to think "oooh!" like
he just slipped on the ice. Then I'd grab those skinny little kneebacks of
his and slide my fiver up his ratty little cunt until he'd sing for his
supper. And I didn't stop grasping those knobby little kneeholds until my
cum was shooting out of his pretty little babynose like a boy blowing snot
bubbles.

"Tell me you want my cum," I whispered after the 50th instroke. I was
giving it to him wetly. I could hear it slurping in and out of him.

"Cum in me," he growled through gritted teeth. "Fill it up. I dare you."

That's all it took. I grabbed him by the hips and absolutely skewered him,
like a lock in place. Like my spurting dick was straight-jacketing his
cunt.

"NNNNNGGGH!" I grunted as my balls pumped their lava into him.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Now hold it there and lay on me fucker." He liked to
swear after I came in him sometimes. A fucked-boy learns real fast how to
use his big-boy words. It's almost universal.

After I pulled my cum-soaked cock out of his hole, wiping it on his tummy
and smelling all kinds of good in the air, I went down on his dicklet,
still rock hard, and sucked him till he came. I reached up and stuck my
finger in his mouth while I sucked him. Gagged him with my forefinger while
he did his best to gag me with his boycock.

He ground his little hips into me and squealed when he got his dry shivers.

"EEEEEEE!" he whined in a high-pitch treble that sounded like sweet, dirty
fuckmusic to my ears. His dick twitched and wiggled in my mouth and his
hairless pubes smelled like nutmeg and cinnamon.

"That's it," I told him as I nibbled and nursed on him. "Get your shivers,
Rave."

He panted and ran his fingers through my sweaty hair.

"Just like a big boy," I whispered.

I stuck a wet finger in his oozing little asshole. He hissed and tensed up.

"Yeah," he grunted, pushing up against my invading digit. "Stick it in
me. Do it again."

He always asked for another one that summer. Right after the first, he
always wanted seconds.

He never had to wait long.

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

I liked fucking Raven so much, I pretended I was fucking him even when I
was fucking other boys. Pwince used to get pissed at me. "Concentwate!"
he'd yell. "Am I Waven or am I wegular?" He never knew anymore, and it
pwobably hurt his pwide.

Even my little brother Jackson picked up it.

"You're pretending I'm Raven again, aren't you?" he said one night up in my
bedroom while I was giving him his nightly bedtime fuck. "I can always tell
you're pretending I'm Raven when you grab me by the knees and heels like
that."

I grinned and fucked him deeper. "Caught," I shrugged.

"Man," he grunted. "That kid changes everything."

My dick slid in and out of Jackson's well accustomed boyhole, and I felt
his anal muscles clench and nibble at my slow slippery fuckshaft. I've been
fucking Jackson since he was, Lord, I don't know. Born?

"You're good at that, Jackson. Squeeze your cunt muscles together like that
again."

Jackson clenched his asspipe. It made me shudder. He smiled up at me as a
bead of sweat dripped off my forehead and landed on his lower lip. He
licked it up and swallowed it. He clenched his tube muscles and grasped my
cock with his insides again. I squeezed his ankles and stuck it in him
further.

"Oh yeah," he grunted through gritted teeth as I picked up my pace. "You're
definitely pretending I'm Raven now. I can feel it in your dick jabs."

He smiled and craned his pretty neck backwards. I kissed it and bit it. I
loved fucking Jackson at bedtime. Jackson was fine with role play. He was a
good sport.

"Pretend you're Raven," I'd tell him. "Pretend you're Pwince."

And whoever I wanted to fuck that night, Jackson would happily adjust his
receptacle to accommodate.

That kid had so much of my semen in him by the time he started high school,
he could have opened up his own sperm bank.

Five branches.

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

That night in the clubhouse, that night in the rainstorm when I fucked
Raven all night long, that first night we spent together, I watched by
Coleman camping lamp as my cock moved deeply in and out of his grasping boy
hole.

"Ohhhhhhhh," he whimpered like a lost little puppy. "It hurts, Casey. It
hurts when you do that. But it feels good inside me, all at the same time."

"Shhhh," I told him. "Brave boy, Raven. I'm almost there. It's almost done,
baby."

"No," he whimpered. "I don't want it to be done yet. It feels too good when
it goes in me like that. I don't care if it hurts me. I don't want it over
yet."

That beautiful moment when a boy finally realizes that pain is a good
thing. It's a thing that makes him older.

Raven grunted. He made swallowing sounds in his throat. His ass nibbled at
my cock shaft. "Make it hurt just a little more," he begged. "Not a lot
more. Just a little."

I adjusted to please him. He moaned out loud and grasped my harms with his
little long fingers, probably leaving brusies.

"Don't shoot off yet," he whimpered, wiggling his ass on my cock. "Make it
go longer. And deeper inside."

God, I loved to fill him up.

As much as I could give him.

Lightning crackled in the western sky.

"It scares me," he whispered.

I didn't know if he meant the storm or the power of my fuck. Probably
both. Both were urgent and bearing down on him fast.

"I love you," he whispered with his skinny little arms around my shoulders,
all hot and sweaty as I fucked him and listened to his sexy, straining boy
noises. Filled to the brim, there was nowhere he could go.

"Pin me down," he begged. "Don't let me up."

And then as I kissed him, "I love it when you fuck me like this."

He moved his arms from my back and held his own legs up so I could fuck him
deeper.

I rutted into his pussy as thunder rumbled madly.

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

Steve was right. Until he learned to do it himself, I really did enjoy
holding Raven's legs up and out of the way by his Achilles or his heels. It
sort of made his lanky 11-year-old legs like machinery control levers on
the perfect little boy crane.

Jesus, when I think of how many times I held onto Raven's naked ankles that
summer, I still nearly cream in my pants. Rave was a notorious little
barefoot boy, and walking through the woods that summer on the way to the
clubhouse, he'd ride on my shoulders any chance I gave him.

"I'm not too big am I?" he'd giggle, wanting another shoulder ride. "I mean
is it dumb? Acting little? Do you think I'm a baby?"

"Oh, you can stay a baby as long as you want, Raven. Believe me. Little's
good."

I'd pick him up under the armpits and hoist him straight up.

"Oooh!" he'd giggled. "It makes my wiener tingle when you lift me like
that."

I got hard in my pants, knowing I'd be tasting that tingler about a
half-mile up the path.

He'd grind his crotch against me.

"I like to push my dick on your neck," he'd say casually. "It gets me hard
and ready for a fuck."

Raven was a slight boy, so when I rode him, we're not talking piggyback,
we're talking the full monty, legs right over my shoulders, bony ass on my
shoulder blades, little hard boypeen pressed to the back of my neck. Those
gorgeous lanky legs of his and pretty bare boy feet would hang right down.

"Feel it?" he'd tease me. "Feel my dick on your neck?"

"Yeah, I feel it," I'd say. "I feel it just fine."

"Good," he'd say. "I'm neck-fucking you fucker. Gonna fuck your neck before
you fuck my butt."

Raven giggled at his own potty mouth. Still at the age where dirty was
funny.

I'd grab those pretty ankles, cock hard in my pants, and yank them like a
harness. I'd use them as two safety handles so he wouldn't topple over
backwards and conk his lights out before I could fuck him, the wiggly
little shit.

My fingers would rest on the tops of his bare feet and my thumbs would rest
on the ankle bones themselves, rubbing small concentric circles on his
knobby protrusions as I walked along the path the clubhouse, massaging him
sensually.

I'd be thinking of nothing but the fuck to come, but Raven would just be
chattering away about his day at school, grateful for the contact. Grateful
for the easy freedom of my tactile affection. He ate it up, being
touched. On his feet or in his pussy. He ate it up.

That night in the rainstorm, he told me that.

"I like how you touch me," he said, as I fucked him the second time that
night. "Not just how you fuck me in my butthole. Just how you touch me
other times. You know. Like shoulder rides and stuff."

Incredible. Here I was fucking him, and he was reminding me how much he
liked shoulder rides. 11 is not too young to still be a boy. Getting fucked
doesn't suddenly make you grow up all the way.

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

But yeah, any typical day that summer, once I got Raven down the path and
into the clubhouse, I'd strip him down and damn I loved taking his clothes
off. I could make a whole fucking meal out of that process, believe
me. Sometimes it took me ten full minutes to get him naked, just because
there was so much to look at and taste along the way. I kept more of his
underwear that summer than I'd care to confess to. Balled up in my pants
pocket for later enjoyment.

Once I slow-stripped him down and got the preliminary ball-shattering
make-out session out of the way (and believe me, there was a good ten
minutes of that to get him good and ramped-up), I'd finally get to a point
where anymore edging would hurt my sanity, and I'd just throw that naked
boy on his back, right down on that grungy little mattress with the same
pair of cum-crusty sheets that'd seen so many boy fucks that summer, and
I'd grab those ankles of his in a New York minute, lift them over my
shoulders and fuck him so hard he'd have bruises shaped like my fingerpads
all around his undersocks for the rest of the month. Black and fucking
blue, baby. In more than one place, I promise you.

Steve found me a picture once of a little kid in a sandbox, way too little,
digging with a big toy crane, scooping up sand while his little hands
worked the metal levers.

"Hey," he grinned. "Here's you fucking Raven. Legs up in the air. Working
his ankle levers."

I looked at the picture of the baby teeth tyke in the sandbox and rubbed my
woody.

Confirming what I'd feared; that my once-respectable AoA was all but a hazy
memory that summer, I told Steve I didn't care how young that kid was. I'd
lick that little boy's ball sack with one big lap up the center, nibble his
miniscule dicklet between my gums (num-num-num) and hoover him until he
pissed in my mouth or got his dry shivers, whichever came first.

"Fucking little sandbox monkey boy," I grunted to Steve as my dick slid all
the way home into his rectum that day, "I'll teach you what a big boy does
after recess."

"Yeah," Steve whispered. "Teach it to me the hard way."

"You like it when I fuck you, don't you, little boy."

Steve whimpered and pretended to be little.

"Gonna cum in you," I warned him. "Gonna put my cream in your pussy."

"Oh yeah," Steve moaned in heat. "Cum in me deep."

"Take it...nnnghh...gonna make you a big boy."

"Oh yeah," Steve baby-whimpered. "Grow me up."

I grabbed his hips and punched in as hard as I could.

"Be a big boy. NNNNGH! Take it all."

"Nnnnggghhh!" he squealed as I shuddered and seized. I shot up his fuckhole
the same time his jacking hand shot a thick load all over our bellies, all
goopy and hot. He hissed in pleasure and sucked my cock with his cunt
muscles, while his sperm slid between us.

"Fuckt," he whispered. "We needed that one bad."

I nodded. "Same time," I whispered, panting my breath. "Tie."

He squeezed his ass muscles again.

"Jinx," he grinned. "You owe me a soda."

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

As an added bonus, holding Raven by the ankles, it was way easier to
maneuver his feets to my mouth. I became a great fan of Raven's pups that
summer, and I damn well wanted to get them in my mouth during a fuck
whenever it was possible. There were times I absolutely drooled pre-cum
just aching to devour those adorable feet and toes. I wish you could see
them. They were edible like a mofo.

Rave had some luscious buster browns. Buster beiges. Buster tans. They
started off pink and creamy that summer, but by August, those hot little
fuckers tanned up in no time. Raven let me touch, tickle, nibble and suck
those fuckers in a heartbeat, no questions asked. It was just
funny-sick-brilliant to him.

"Hey, Raven...let me lick your feet and suck your toes," I asked him the
first time.

"Seriously?" he grinned.

"Yeah," I nodded. "They're hot.

He shrugged, grinned wickedly, and had those fuckers in my mouth lickity
split. They tasted like salt and earth, with a hint of vinegar boy
sparkle. I don't mind telling you, I fucking full-mouth fellated those
things.

Raven thought my deep-throat gobbling of all five toes on his single right
foot was nothing short of boyhood nirvana. It was nasty, it was giggly, it
was almost unheard of to him, and he tried to gag me in the process, and
his spiky little dicklet was harder than I'd ever seen it before.

"You like that?" I asked him. "You get hard when I suck these?"

He was beyond coherent speech. He was just tickled pink and in babycock boy
heat. He clenched his toes and I felt them move in my mouth while I
fingered Vaseline up his snatch.

"Fuck me," he whispered. "Keep on sucking my foot, but fuck me, too."

Who was I to argue? I lined up my dick and pleasured him in both places all
at the same time.

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

Oh yeah.

Raven and I played foot games that year that made my cock very happy. He
even toe-fucked me once when I asked him to, and he giggled in sick delight
all the way through it. Little fucker never even blinked at the suggestion
of either oral or anal foot play of any kind. Total green light.

After the fifth or sixth time I fucked him that summer, Steve said, "This
is ridiculous. You're still doing most of the work for the little
shit. Have him hold his own legs up in the air."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's ready for it. Shit, man. Let him be part of his own
whoreifcation process."

That was sick and beautiful, man. Whorification process. Steve was always
inventing new fuckwords.

And true enough, once Raven got good enough to help keep his own legs in
the air, that freed up one of my hands to masturbate his obscenely erect,
beautifully intact, hairless little peen, and the other one to pinch a
dainty nipple or hold his neck and bring him in for a hot wet tongue
kiss. Raven opened wide for those full mouth tongue kisses that summer,
believe me, baby. He couldn't get enough.

When Steve's Uncle Scooby did him the first time when he was 12, Steve said
it took him a few sleepovers before he worked out the logistics of the
length, girth and torque. "The first six times I was just worried I was
going to shit the bed while he was fucking me," Steve shrugged, "but after
that, I got my sea legs and started helping him out."

I nodded, getting down on my knees and getting ready to suck his delicious
cock. It'd been a couple days and I knew he'd have a big, huge load for
me. I was already hungry for it and I wished he'd stop talking.

"A boy's not really de-virginized until the sixth or seventh time," Steve
said knowingly, pushing my head down into his lap, where hairy met Sally. I
opened my mouth as wide as can be, and took him in. "The first half dozen
fucks," Steve said, "a boy's still a novice. After that, he's pretty much
an equal participant."

Steve's dick tasted like sweaty coppery salt cock. I smelled his
pubes. They were strong, the way I liked them. God, I was hungry for his
dick that day.

"Time to fuck him hard," he told me. "Keep him over night in the clubhouse
this weekend. Do him all night long. Teach him how to be responsible for
his own fuck legs."

"Supposed to rain," I mumbled through a mouth full of cock. "Probably
shouldn't fuck him in a rainstorm. Bad luck."

"So bring an extra blanket," Steve shrugged, pulling me down and gagging me
the way I liked him to.

I nodded through a mouthful of my best friend's cock.

"Who cares if it rains," he told me. "Thunder makes a boy grab you
harder. You know. For safety."

He pushed his cock up into my throat and I gobbled him, greedy.

"Enough thunder in the clubhouse, and you get to be a boy's
protector. Nothing better than a grateful protection fuck."

When Steve sped up and really started throat fucking me, he yanked down
hard on my head, picked up his pace and started whispering my name. Raven
was long forgotten in that moment.

"Fuck yeah," he muttered. "Eat it Casey. Here it comes. Eat it all."

I kneaded his balls and sucked him as hard and fast as I could.

"NNNNNGGGGH!" he yelled as he held me in place and his thick cum erupted
into my mouth, the salt and the bleach of it taking me by delighted
surprise. Fuck, there was a ton of it that day. He was producing a lot
now. The kind where you had to gulp quick, and more than once.

"Eat it, bitch," he whispered. "Eat up every fucking drop."

I was happy to obey.

"You like that, don't you?"

I nodded yes. I liked the taste of cum. Always did, still do.

There's not enough cum in the world for the amount I'd like to swallow.

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

Steve told me about a younger cousin named Blake. He fucked him a bunch of
times a couple summers ago when Steve was 13 and the cousin was 9.

"The first one happened on the pullout couch bed at his house," Steve
said. "Everybody else was asleep upstairs. Family bullshit guest house
vacation. The whole house was dark. Blake fell asleep watching TV. He'd
made me watch so many Pokemon episodes, I wanted to hit him. But now he was
asleep, and fuck was he warm. He just felt perfect. I was nestled all-up
next to him, hot dog in a bun, with a raging hard boner."

"I know the feeling," I said, reaching down to stroke Steve's hard cock.

"I don't know what came over me, man. Just horny I guess. Anybody could
have walked in on us, but fuck, before I knew it, I was so hot and ready,
there I was, stupid and dangerous as all fuck, tugging down his peejays,
tugging down his undies, hocking a loogie on my cock, nestling my bone in
his crack, finding his hole, then inch by inch, I start to stick it in him,
and Blake wakes up with a wince and an ouch and he's all confused and he
doesn't know what's going on."

"Oh fuck," I whispered. "What'd he say?"

Steve pressed his dick into my grasping hand and closed his eyes and
smiled.

"So Blake just lays there, frozen shoulders. Eyes wide open as I spooned
him and pressed more inside."

"Are you fucking me?" he whispers in the softest voice he can. And he still
sounds half asleep. "Are you fucking me in my butthole?"

I moaned out loud when Steve told me that part. "Are you fucking me in my
butthole."

Steve nodded.

"It hurts," Blake says. "Do it to me slower. Not so fast. Not like Dad."

"Oh fuck," I said.

"No shit, right?"

My own dick was straining in my pants.

"So I tell him to keep quiet. Shhh, I tell him. Just relax, don't fight
it."

I nodded.

"Blake tenses for a minute but then his shoulders fall back again. Then he
just gives in. Just melts into it. My cock, his Dad's cock, he just melts
into it. Fuck, man. When a bigger cock wants in, a bigger cock's going in."

I moaned. I took Steve's dick out of his pants. God I wanted him to fuck
me.

"Okay," Blake tells me. "But go real slow." So, I start to fuck him slow. I
whisper to him, "Shhh. It'll all go easier if you just close your eyes and
pretend it's not happening. Pretend it's all a dream, Blakey."

"And then he just sighs and nestles back as I keep going slowly, fat-balls
deep in him, rocking gently in and out of that tight little cunt until I
bred him for the first time and shot his little bowels with a full load of
my cum, right there in his couch bed. Dee-fucking-licious."

"That's so hot," I said, as I lubed up my ass and got ready to sit on
Steve's boner. "It's like he barely woke up."

"But by the fifth time that summer," Steve smiled, "he was FULLY lifting
his legs up for me. Once he even grabbed me so hard he left nail prints in
my ass cheeks trying to get me further up inside him. "Fuck me harder you
dirty fucking fucker," he told me that time. Fuck me like my dad does."

"Oh fuck."

"Yeah, right?"

 "And he was nine?"

"Pretty as a fucking picture."

"And his Dad gave it to him too?"

Steve nodded.

"He used to smile at me and lead me up to his room, lock the door, pull
down his pants and undies in one quick shot and get right down on the
floor, hands and knees, and spread his ass cheeks right straight apart for
me while I reached for the lotion."

"Whoof," I said again. "What a sight."

"What a smell. What an everything."

Steve closed his eyes and looked peaceful as I sat on his cock. "Ahhhhh,"
he sighed in relief as my hole sheathed over him. "You know a boy wants it
when he spreads his own ass cheeks for you."

"Animals strike curious poses," I shrugged as I winced and sat down on him
balls deep. He began to pump upward in me. Began to fill me where I needed
to be filled.

Like Raven, I was insatiable for cock that summer.

After he came in me once, I rolled over and laid belly-down on my bed,
letting his cum dry, letting him catch his breath, making sure my ass was
still visible, hoping it looked cum-wet and tempting, so Steve might go for
seconds. So Steve would fuck me again.

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

Steve was right, after all. After the opening night jitters were out of the
way and Raven was used to getting my teen cock rammed up his 11-year-old
cunt on a semi regular basis, he was already holding his own legs out of
the way with gusto, and egging me on in whatever filthy way he could come
up with. He squeezed his ass muscles together when I came in him too. He
milked me good and tight.

"Eager little boywhore, huh?" Steve grinned.

"What can I say." I shrugged as I filled him in on the progress report.

"You made him what he is today," Steve nodded respectfully.

"Well, you got inside him a few times, too."

"Just doing what I can to help out," he said. "Help the less fortunate. You
know. Tech him how a real man fucks."

Steve had a habit of playing good pedo-cop, bad-pedo cop that summer with
any of the boys we fucked. Jackson, Pwince, Julian, any of them. Steve
seemed to have two basic avenues of dialogue with his boys.

Either the gentler, "Hold your legs up, baby, so I can fuck your pretty
pussy."

Or the rougher, "Get your legs up and hold `em there like I trained you,
bitch. Don't make you ask you again."

Either way, whichever boy he was fucking would squeal in delight and
comply. No room for ambiguity with Steve. He told a younger boy exactly
what he wanted and expected.

Of the two approaches, Raven preferred when Steve and I used the dirtier of
the two, trust me. No niceties needed. He'd want a fuck with lots of swear
words and name calling.

Steve and I learned that right out of the starting gate. "Bitch," "cunt,"
"pussy" and plenty of F-Words didn't do a thing to hurt Raven's
feelings. That kind of talk only served to get his little dickiedoo
cuntmotor running on all six cylinders.

"Even when I'm not fucking him, I want to fuck him," Steve said. "I must
have jacked off thinking of all 365 ways we can fuck him this year."

I nodded. An admirable goal.

"I wish we could get my Uncle Scooby to do him," Steve said. "He cums
gallons."

I agreed we should try to set that up.

"His little cunt would be a tattered little ooze puddle by the time Uncle
Scoob got done unloading one or two loads up Raven's little snuggler."

I agreed. Man, I'd love to see Rave's expression when Uncle Scoob breached
vault number one and vault number two. Rave's little sphincs would get
trashed, one after the other by some serious mancock if we ever let Uncle
Scooby loose on him.

"Fuck," Steve reminisced. "My ass leaked so much cum after my 12th birthday
sleepover at Uncle Scoob's that night, he had to buy new sheets.

Steve fucked me extra hard that night in my bedroom. The whole room smelled
like ass and cum when we were done. He always fucked me hard when we talked
his Uncle Scooby.

And my clubhouse sleepover with Raven in the rainstorm was happening that
weekend. Saturday night. Guy on the radio said showers by midday,
thunderstorms rolling in by evening. Perfect. The scary, "hold me"
protection fuck. Shelter from the storm, and I was the shelter.

I didn't fuck Steve back that night after he fucked me twice. I was saving
my sperm for Raven.

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

And the radio was right. The rainstorm came. Midwest madness like you've
never seen before. Even I was jumpy when the boomers fired like
God-cannons. Thunder, lightning, and mad-dash crazy-rain, pelting down on
the wooden shutters of the clubhouse while Raven cowered in my older arms.

It was the first time Raven spent the whole night with me in the clubhouse,
and he was scared shitless of the rainstorm.

"So loud," he said, covering his ears. "It scares me too much." He nestled
into me. Sought protection. I was happy to give it.

He told his mom he was staying overnight with Jackson. She didn't even
blink. I told my mom I was staying over at Steve's. No one said a
thing. Cover stories complete, we ran wildly through the downfall, drenched
and soaked, to the dry comfort of the clubhouse.

We stripped naked. Too frozen to do it slowly. Threw our wet clothes in a
disheveled pile in the corner.

"You're soaked, Raven" I told him. "Come here."

He was shivering and beautiful as I held him naked. He looked like a scared
child. Shaking and jumping, startled and young, every time the thunder
crashed.

"We shouldn't be here tonight," he whispered, scared. "It's too thundery."

"Come here," I said. "I'll keep you safe."

And I would.

He came to me. Confused. Scared. Beautiful. Anxious. A frightened boy
child, waiting to be saved. And first you save them, and then you fuck
them. All though history, that's how it's always worked. Safety and
gratitude, repaid by fucking. "You kept me safe, my bigger friend. Now
here's my hole for you. Here's how I say thank you."

I turned the radio on. Two songs played on the WDRQ Night
Train. Back-to-back Prince. Double Shot Saturday. Two songs, one artist.

I held a shivering Raven in my arms, kissing and protecting him as our body
heat took over and he warmed to the safety of my comfort. I wasn't going
anywhere. He stopped shivering. Became erect. His little missile popped up
and rubbed against me. My bigger erection rubbed against him.

Prince sang on the radio to us, and the night became a lightning swirl of
the fiercest boy need and the sexiest music.

"I want to fuck you so much, Raven." I whispered as I bit on his
earlobe. "I want to fuck you all night long."

"Do it," he moaned back. "Fuck me real hard. I want it real bad tonight."

His words made me dizzy. His sweet treble voice, so soft, sent me
reeling. He mesmerized my sanity with his fuck whispers. Gave me spiraling
butterflies. Touch, if you can, my stomach. See how it trembles
inside. That's because of you, Rave. You did that, baby.

He moaned and whimpered and I kissed him and I felt his ever-present need
for me.

"So safe," he whispered. "You make me feel so safe inside."

He made little soft noises down deep in his boythroat. Sexy
sounds. Innocent sounds. This is what it sounds like when doves cry. I laid
him down naked on the mattress and got him ready to take his first fuck in
the night-shattering thunder.

"It aches for you," he whimpered. "My hole wants you in me so bad, it aches
for it."

My cock started to slide into him and the second song started. The one I'll
never forget as I fucked him that night.

He gasped and grimaced as I penetrated him, piercing past his second
sphincter. So tight. Like a beautiful prison guard.

"Ow," he whimpered. "Slower. Slower."

I pulled back and pushed forward again. God, I loved fucking him. I loved
making him good hurt.

Purple rain, purple rain.

Fucking Raven to the soft, sad rhythm. So slow. So sensual. Like a lost old
aria. Like holiness. Like church. Like wholeness and necessity.

Nothing ever felt better than being 15, with my dick sliding in and out of
an 11-year-old beautiful boy, scared and shivering in a rainstorm,
serenaded by a beautiful, brilliant, lonely motherfucker on the radio. I
hear that song today, all these lost decades later, and I'm still fucking
Raven in the rainstorm, and everybody's safe again.

"I hate rainstorms," he told me. "They make me have bad dreams."

I wrapped my arms around him and held him tighter. My cum was dripping
gently out of his open anus and down his creamy little leg.

"Come here," I whispered. "No bad dreams tonight, Rave. Just you and me and
more of this."

I kissed him again. Reached down. Felt his little spike harden.

"Okay," he whispered. "Take the bad dreams away."

I hope I did.

All those years ago, Raven, I hope I took all the scary stuff away.

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

"You fucked him good, right?" Steve asked me the next day after school as I
nursed my sore cock. "He held his own legs up?"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "He held them, I held them, who can even
remember?"

Honestly, I was too tired from fucking Raven three more times that night to
do anything tricky for Steve, who was already pulling down his pants and
getting ready to fast-fuck me. There was a movie on cable we wanted to
watch, so it had to be a quick one.

"I'm surprised I have any balls left," I told him. "I'm totally fucking
drained."

"Well, I don't need your balls," Steve shrugged. "I only need your
asshole."

I smiled at him and bent over the bed. Ass up, Tummy down, the same way
Raven liked it.

"Pin me," Raven would say. "I like to be pinned."

"Look at that ass," Steve whistled appreciatively. "Buns-up, bitch."

"Sweet talker," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He stuck it in me and thankfully, as usual, he showed me no mercy.

Because that's how boyhood sex goes sometimes.

Sometimes it's special. Sometimes it's just silly.

It hurts a little. It feels good a lot. And it's always unforgettable.

To Steve, to Raven, to all the boys I fucked that lifetime ago...thank you
guys. What you gave me those summers back then was so vast and
immeasurable, I'm still trying to make sense of it today. That's why I come
here, I guess. To try to remember it all and do it justice. To try to put
it down here before I forget it happened, so someone can remember it
anyway. So someone will know it really was part of us.

We shared a path, whether you knew me or not. Those sweaty, scented,
sex-hot summers of our youth. And I thank you for it, all you guys who are
like me, because the rhythm we found back then was profoundly our
own. Shared and incomparable. I'm pretty sure we'll live forever, you and
I, because of what we did back then.

Commonality. Immortality.

The music we made will go on and on and on.

Like a lost purple prince.

Like a raven in a rainstorm.

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

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

In loving memory of Prince Rogers Nelson (1958-2016), who made fucking
sound so fun in my childhood, I couldn't wait to try it.

Flights of angels, brother. We'll all miss you so much.

Love, Zach

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

Casey, Steve, Raven and friends also appear in:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/doggie-sniffers
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/pwince-is-pwegnant
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/casey-in-the-clubhouse

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

The other ABC Boys by Zachyboy include:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/andy-in-the-attic
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/barrett-in-the-bathtub
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/casey-in-the-clubhouse
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daddy-in-the-doorway
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/facedown-in-the-freight-train
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/treyden-in-the-treehouse

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

Thanks to Scuba Steve for helping me get a leg up on the dialogue in this one.