Angels and Devils

This is a work of FICTION. That means it's not real!

As a work of fiction, I have the luxury of not having to worry about safe sex. In the real world though, we don't have that luxury. If you're going to play, PLAY SAFE!

This work contains graphic descriptions, most of a sexual nature between consenting characters.

For those of you who would like to jump right to those parts, the action starts in Chapter 5.

For those of you who are offended by this type of material, what the hell are you doing here?!?

For those who live in an area where this material is illegal, you have my sympathies and my encouragement to get out there and get them to change the law. In the meantime, if you get caught, I don't know you.

And as always, this work is praise fueled. Please feel free to write and let me know what you think. Flamers, on the other hand, can go fry.

Thanks for your time and attention. Now ENJOY!!!

Angels and Devils

PRELUDE

As a rich young man in my prime, I had the good fortune of never having to work after leaving school. For all my childhood and early in my adult life, my life was controlled by the wishes and goals set out by my parents. School, vacations, learning my way around high society; these were the things that dominated my early life, and none of it by my own choice.

I was reflecting bitterly on this fact one day while attending university when the news of their fatal accident reached me. I think the messenger... the dean of the school, no less...was disappointed by my lack of reaction. After he'd told me, I just sat there for a few moments, and then calmly informed him that I would be withdrawing from school immediately. Despite his well- intentioned protests (many of them no doubt fueled by the fear of losing the fat checks for various university organizations provided by my family), this is exactly what I did.

After burying the strangers that had given me life, I spent the next few weeks going over the details of my inheritance. I was a little concerned at first that I would be left out in the cold. This was a valid concern, because it was exactly what my father had threatened to do several years ago when he caught me buggering the gardener's young son.

Apparently, even the slightest indication of homosexuality was completely unacceptable to my family. Being from old money as we were, it was expected of every son and/or daughter to go out and create more heirs. This, my father explained to me after a severe whipping, was my responsibility, and I would fulfill that obligation or be left with nothing.

Since I was only 14 at the time, I was able to convince him that my transgression was just a combination of young hormones and boyish experimentation. He said he understood, but I knew that from that day on, I was going to be watched like a hawk for any "backsliding" into any non- reproductive coupling.

So as I sat there in the lawyer's office, my mind raced over any possibility that the old man had discovered that the incident with the gardener's son was neither the first nor certainly the last time I'd indulged my lusts. The fact that I'd had a girl friend for the past three years was simply a cover, though neither she nor my father knew it at the time.

Well, as luck would have it, I'd covered my tracks perfectly, and my father apparently died convinced that I was totally straight and planning to marry as soon as I completed my studies. Certainly I'd done everything I could to encourage this view. And it paid off. The will didn't even have any stipulations that I had to marry and/or produce children in order to get my inheritance.

With that worry out of the way, I was able to implement the plan that had been forming and building in my heart and mind for as long as I could remember. I was going to have my freedom. Finally, I was truly free and ready to live my life for me.

CHAPTER ONE

I insulated myself with my lawyers' prowess and my substantial inheritance to ease any problems that might come along, and ensure that I would be able to live in whatever manner I might choose for however long I chose. I began wandering the world, sampling and learning and exploring every nook and cranny I could. I was like a man in search of something, but I didn't know what it might be. At this stage, it was all about the journey, not the destination.

The years that I had spent growing up and being groomed to be a member of high society had provided me with access to a good number of influential and powerful people from around the world. Almost without exception, anyplace I went I had a contact, a friend or just an acquaintance who would welcome me with open arms. I would dine with leaders in business and politics. Later, I would go out in search of some new adventure, often times accompanied by my host or some member of the family.

I always amazed me some of the things that so many of these highly place, highly respected people were involved in. The rich often devolop some peculiar tastes. One of the side effects of money and power, I suppose. It was this fact that often led me to some of my more unusual encounters.

Which brings me to Jean Claude.

CHAPTER TWO

It was in Paris that I happened upon an old friend from my school years; Jean-Claude. During my freshman year at one of the prepatory academies I'd grown up in, Jean-Claude was the senior proctor for our floor.

I'd been staying in Paris for the past month with some old friends of my family. Normally, I would have avoided staying with what I considered a rather stuffy, boring group, but I was currently on a bit of a hiatus, and the plain, ordinary life style they led was as good a place as any for the rest my spirit seemed to be craving.

The rest was due to the wild year I'd just spent in all manner of sexual excess across the European continent. My parents had been dead for two years now, and I had been spending my new found freedom doing so many of the things that would have earned my parents' harshest disapproval, not the least of which was all manner of sexual gratification I could find.

Two years is a long time to spend in such activities. I would have slowed down long ago, but about midway through the Caligulary exploits, I merged my carnal experimentation with some chemical experimentation. It's amazing how far one can go when the mind surrenders to the flesh, and the flesh is pharmaceutically supported.

A month ago, however, out of the clear blue a revelation dawned on me like the sun breaking through the storm clouds. One morning -- or it could have been afternoon -- I awoke amid a pile of reeking flesh.

Dazed, I staggered, clambered and climbed from from this small ocean of spent bodies. There must have been at least 15 people passed out in the large open area of hotel suite I was currently occupying. None of them were recognizable to me. Some were old, some were young. A couple were much, much too young.

The reek was a sickening combination of sweat, urine, feces, burnt chemicals and of course, sex. Lots and lots of sex. Everyone was in some form of undress, and all had apparently been pleasured in some manner of stimulation. I couldn't begin to name or number the quantities of toys and implements that lay scattered at the edge of this mound of indulged flesh.

Through the fading chemical haze, I tried to remember what had happened, how I had come to be in the middle of this vast, obscene pile of debauchery. Brief, flashing images of a purchase in a dark alley, chemical delight wrapped in tin foil changing from someone's hand to mine. The preparation, the application, then blankness.

Stroboscopic flashes of various faces and body parts, assorted organs and appliances being used on a variety of orifices. Pills, potions, powders, smoke always present in the background of these flashes of memory. I shook my head to try and clear the cobwebs, deciding that I need to do something but not knowing what.

Looking down, I began to get my bearings, re-orienting myself to this space. As I slowly looked around the trashed room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Normally, just this brief glance would not have aroused my attention, but for some reason I looked back.

Just a few feet away from where I stood were two forms unconscious on the floor. Nothing too extraordinary about that, there were lots of bodies strewn about the room. For some reason though, this couple drew my complete attention. I walked over and stood over them.

It was a young man and a much older man. They were both laying on their sides, the younger with his back pressed up against the older. I studied them, starting at the tops of their heads. The younger man had definitely seen better days. His features indicated that he had once been very attractive, but the attractiveness had been worn away with hard use.

The older man was balding and overweight. His gray hair had grown long on one side, which he combed over his balding dome, as if that would cover the lack. The older man held the younger one loosely, his arm draped across his shoulder, the hand not quite touching the floor. In his hand, the old man held a small pill vial. Scattered on the floor were some of the vial's contents, which I recognized as Viagra.

Something glinted on the floor near the pills, and I look towards the younger man's hand which lay there. Looking as if it had just fallen from his limp fingers was a hypodermic syringe. For an instant, I feared the guy had overdosed, but then I caught the rise and fall of his chest. He was alive and sleeping off the effects of whatever had been in the syringe.

These images were not all that new or terribly disturbing to me. I'd seen such couplings before, and worse. So what was it about these two that was so captivating to me?

Looking further down their forms, the younger man's leg shifted forward, revealing what I hadn't seen before. What I saw shattered the image I'd had of a spent couple sleeping off a night's excesses.

What I saw was that the old man's penis was still hard, and firmly inserted in the younger man's rectum. Though deeply asleep, he was still fucking the young man. My eyes returned to the Viagra on the floor.

Looking back towards the coupled couple, I noticeed some odd coloration between the young man's legs. Bending down slightly, the smell hit me like a freight train. Urine. Apparently, probably in his sleep even, the older man had released his bladder into the young man's ass. Ok, still not a first to my eyes. So what else, I wondered?

Looking closer, I saw something darker mixed in with the dried urine. Almost maroon in color, I could only take it to be blood. Not a lot, but enough to be noticed from the four or so feet between it and my eyes. It would seem that this had not been a gentle entry into the young man's most private access.

Then my mind wandered back to the needle. Is that what even made it possible for the old man to enter him in the first place? Then the Viagra. Was he so needy in that state that he'd drug someone and force himself in while they were so bombed?

The younger man shifted again and, giving a small grunt, proceeded to defecate on himself and the man's inserted penis. I stood there aghast, covering my mouth and nose against the smell that slammed up into my nostrils. When I look back up at the old man, to see if he had even noticed that his pride and joy was being shat on, his face was gone.

I saw instead my own face.

Call it prescient vision or the remnants of chemical abuse, but suddenly, clearly I saw what I needed to see when I saw my face where someone else's was. I saw with staggering clarity my own future.

Several years down the road I would be that man. So caught up in the need for the carnal, the attention of a young man that I would support my erection by whatever means necessary. I saw myself, tempting young men and boys to my time worn, decrepit self. The flower of my youth long since withered, I would resurrect it vicariously through one boy after another, no matter how temporarily.

Finally, I would be so miserable a sight that the boys would have to be stoned out of their minds, with me footing the bill for their drugs and their time. I wouldn't care that that was all that they wanted of me, and that they cared so little about themselves that they would accept my caresses, my abuse even. And neither of us would care if we shit on ourselves or each other.

Then it was gone. The vision faded, the man's face was now the man's face and no one elses. But the implications were echoing and careening inside my skull. My whole body was trembling as I stood looking down at them. Tears streamed unnoticed down my cheeks. I was 26 years old, and in 40 or 50 years, this old man would be me.

That's when I bolted. I dashed into the bathroom just in time to heave my dinner into the toilet. I knelt there, my head resting on the cool porcelain, my clammy, sweat-covered body shaking uncontrollably.

I checked out that very day. Not bothering to shower, I dressed in some passably clean clothes, left a hefty cleaning deposit with the hotel's day clerk.enough to replace and redo the entire floor, if need be.and left.

I caught the first train to Paris after I left the hotel. I stayed in the sleeping car for the entire trip, curled up on the bed, sleeping, sometimes weeping, as the train rolled through the countryside. When I arrived, I checked into a mid-range hotel, locked the door and didn't leave for an entire week. I ordered room service and had the replacements for everything I'd left behind delivered. Everything, with the exception of drugs and boys.

Finally, after almost two weeks, I emerged from my hotel room. I felt cleaner and fresher than I had for a long while. The image that had fixed itself in my brain was still there, still frightening, but faded, muted with time and some clarity of being clean. It would always be there, I think, as a reminder whenever I might find myself teetering on that brink again.

On the second day I ventured out of my hotel room is when I bumped into the friends of my family. They made such a fuss over me when they saw me as I was picking out some new clothes at an upscale shop that day. They went on and on about how they missed my parents and how I had been and where I was staying and what I was doing with myself. When the heard about the hotel I was in, they insisted that I come stay with them.

Though these people normally bored the living shit out of me, I found their openness and warmth quite inviting. I gave in to their invitation, and have been staying there ever since.

Now, about one month later, I'm back out on my own. I finally got tired of all the solicitous attention I was getting, not wanting to go into any sort of details about just what I had really been doing over the past two years. So I managed to come up with an excuse that would let me get back out on my own without hurting or insulting my generous hosts.

So I rented a small but very stylish place there in Paris, and began contemplating what direction I wanted to take now. This was my first day to relax and just think about things like this since I'd moved back out on my own and gotten myself settled in.

So there I sat, a table at a street-side cafe enjoying the establishments rich, aromatic coffee and a croissant. I watched the traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, with mild interest. I had just started my second cup of coffee when a vaguely familiar voice called my name.

I turned in the direction of the voice and saw a figure rushing up the sidewalk towards me. It was a man, in his mid thirties, I guessed. He was well dressed and from the way he moved I could see that he kept himself in fair shape. As he drew closer, I could make out the features of his face. Dark eyes under thick slashes of eyebrows. High, sharp cheek bones angling down to a narrow chin. Red full lips surrounded by a dark goatee shot with flecks of gray.

When he reached me, the man flung his arms around me in a more-than-usual enthusiastic French embrace. Quick, hard kisses on each cheek and then he stepped back to look at me, and now that he was still, I knew that this was someone I knew. But I couldn't produce a name.

The man laughed heartily as he stood there at arm's length, his hands clasped on my shoulders. "Ah, Daniel, my old friend! I see you do not recognize me. My God! It has been.what.twelve years now? My God, I thought to never see you again, and here you are. It is me, Jean-Claude! Oh! How wonderful to see you again, and you are looking so wonderful!"

I stood there, stunned, while Jean-Claude babbled on. When he said his name, full recognition washed over me, leaving me speechless. There I stood, my first day back on my own in Paris, and my brain was spinning back to another first day, one that took place twelve years ago.

CHAPTER THREE

When I saw him on that first day, I'd been instantly smitten by his continental charm and dark, brooding good looks. His face was sharp and angular, with high, prominent cheekbones. His long, shiny black hair hung over his face in thick locks, allowing only the occasional view of his deep- set, dark eyes.

To my fourteen-year-old eyes, he was the epitome of the robust, youthful male. Active in several sports, he was trim and his movements sure and easy. As he and his junior assistants showed this new group of freshman around our new home, he would tell us the rules and special instructions for the dorms, his rich, tenor voice ringing through the busy halls as the boys were assigned their rooms.

As luck would have it, it was Jean-Claude, rather than one of the assistants, who showed me and my new roommate to our room. The three of us in the fairly small space could hardly help bumping into each other as Jean-Claude moved around to show us the features of our new living space. Attracted as I was to this handsome teen, I certainly did nothing to prevent such contacts, and in fact did what I could to encourage them.

When he'd finished, he stood in the doorway and told us when and where we would be meeting for lunch. As he left, he shook both our hands in farewell. Apparently my attempts at contact had had the desired result, as his hand lingered while it held mine, a quick smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at me. And then he was gone, moving confidently down the hall towards some commotion a few doors down.

I waited in nervous anticipation for the next two days for Jean to make his move. Having grown up in mostly all-male schools, sexual activity at an early age was certainly nothing that should be a surprise to anyone. At fourteen, I was a little over four years and dozens of boys and men removed from my virginity, and had enjoyed every minute of it.

The continuation of that activity was in doubt though. This was my first time back at school since the incident with the gardener's son, so I was more than a little paranoid about getting caught. I had worried all summer long that I'd never again be able to indulge in my carnal desires, not daring to even masturbate while under my parents' roof. For some reason though, I was certain that Jean-Claude could help me.

During the days that I waited for him to approach me, as I knew he wanted to, I kept a careful ear out for any information on this latest object of my desire. As I sifted through the rumors floating about, the one I heard most frequently concerned something that had happened between him and another boy at his previous school. At first, this gave me hope that I wouldn't have to wait long for him to approach me. However, how would I handle it if he did? The spectre of my father's threat still haunted my mind. Then, another bit of information cast a light on the gathered shadows and provided me with hope.

From all accounts, he was in an even worse predicament than me. His was a very old and very conservative European family. Apparently, most every generation had as a stipulation for inheritance--the very one I feared might be forced on me. In order to inherit, one must be married. This was my first lesson that information, oftentimes more so than money, was real power.

So I felt fairly confident that whatever encounter may happen with Jean Claude, we would both be safe on the blade of that two edged sword.

CHAPTER FOUR

After almost two weeks of waiting, my nerves were frayed to the point of breaking in sexual anticipation. Several times I'd caught Jean-Claude watching me out of the corner of his eye, as I knew he'd also discovered me doing to him several times. Each time there was that quick, corner of the mouth grin of his, and then he would return his attention to wherever it had been before.

When we would encounter each other on the campus or in the dorm, we'd chat amicably enough, we were even starting to become friends despite the difference in our ages. Our greetings and departures were often accented with a touch here or there. To the casual observer it all looked normal enough when it happened, but we could detect the subtle, extra pressure applied, the briefest extension of duration. There was certainly more than casual intent on both parts.

On the third week, our opportunity finally presented itself. It was our week to work in the kitchen (each floor took turns helping prepare and serve meals for the school). The cook had just filled one of the large soup pots with hot water for the evening's meal. The school's cook was an older man, so part of our job was to help him with any heavy lifting that he couldn't manage himself.

After adding all the ingredients for the soup right there at the sink, we had to carry the pot from the sink over to the stove. Either one of us could have probably handled the heavy cookware ourselves, but everyone was encouraged to help each out in such situations.

With me on one side and Jean-Claude on the other, we grasped each handle, counted to three, and hefted the full pot up out of the sink. Then, as we turned to walk it over to the stove, my foot managed to find a spot of old soap that had been spilled on the floor from who knows how long ago. My traction suddenly gone, reflex took over and I threw my hands up to try and catch myself. Of course, this resulted in my splashing a good amount of the soup all over the front of Jean-Claude.

Jerking back, Jean-Claude accidentally ruined any opportunity I might have had to regain my balance, so down I went, dragging my side of the pot down with me, the obvious result being that I was suddenly doused with the remainder of the pot's contents.

Jean-Claude had managed to keep a grip on the pot so that it didn't land on me. Once all the action had stopped though, we both were covered in raw vegetables, meat and broth. We looked at each other in stunned silence for a moment, then broke out in hysterical laughter.

Mr. MacReady, the cook, came rushing over when he heard the crash and splash of our little accident. When he got there, he was immediately concerned about our welfare. After giving him several assurances that the only real damage was to our dignity at that point, he excused us both for the rest of the evening.

"Well," he said, "as long as you both are all right, why don't you go back to your dorms and get cleaned up. Don't worry about coming back for this shift. I'll see you to for breakfast shift tomorrow."

We apologized and thanked Mr. MacReady, and started back to our dorm. As we crossed the campus, we laughed and joked about our little incident. Soon however, we were both chilled by the cool evening air striking our drenched clothing.

Being the end of the week, several of the students had gone home to be with their families for the weekend break. Those few that had remained on campus were apparently otherwise engaged, probably on one of the playing fields or the library. Our floor was completely abandoned, and our voices echoed up and down the hall.

We were both shivering from the soaked, chilled clothes that clung to our bodies. Jean-Claude told me to go to my room and grab towels for the both of us. He would go ahead and start the showers to let them warm up for us. As he turned towards the shower room, he looked back at me. That quick, corner of the mouth grin twitched, and this time, a sly wink of one of those dark, seductive eyes.

As I rushed to my room to get the towels, my head was filled with feverish thoughts of me and Jean-Claude in the shower together. There was really no way around it, since they were the locker-room style showers with no sort of privacy partitions. And I knew that I would probably not have another chance like this one for quite a while. My resolve hardened almost as quickly as my cock as I decided that the time was now to end these flirtations and get down to business.

CHAPTER FIVE

When I arrived to the shower room, I could here the spash of water on the floor tiles. Steam was already starting to come from the shower area into the dressing area. I approached the benches next to the shower entrance. On one of them sat the pile of Jean-Claude's soup soaked clothes.

I stepped over to the next bench, which sat right in front of the shower entryway. There, standing under the needling spray of hot water was the object of all these weeks' lust. His body was facing me, but his head was bent back under the spray of the water as he wet his hair. I stood there transfixed as the water glimmered and shone while it streamed down his taut frame.

Arched that way, his muscles showed their tight definition from his broad chest, down his flat, washboard abdomen to where the shadows of muscle taper in towards his groin. At the junction of these muscles was a dark, healthy bush of hair. From that sprang the long, wide shaft of his penis. It was even better than I'd hoped for, dangling a good four inches or so from between his legs. Being completely limp, I thrilled at the thought of how it would fill out once it was fully aroused.

Then Jean-Claude straightened up from rinsing his hair. Once he shook the water clear, he saw me standing there as I took in the sight of him. For a moment, we both stood there, just staring at each other, not saying a word. That silence was all I needed to set my feet in motion.

Slowly I walked towards him, my gaze locked on his. I didn't even bother taking my clothes off. Shoes and all I walked up to him, becoming immediately soaked by the spray from the two shower heads he'd turned on.

I couldn't tear myself away from those deep, sensual eyes. When I was finally directly in front of him, my breathing was deep and rapid. Slowly, tentatively I stretched out my hand and placed it flat against his chest. He had a small band of hair between his pectorals that narrowed as went down towards his abdomen. The trail ended just above the crisscross pattern of his taut stomach muscles, only to start back up just under his navel. From there it widened out again as it became the full bush of dark, coarse hard surrounding the base of his cock.

My hand began to travel downwards, and soon my body followed as I lowered myself to my knees in front of him. For the entire trip down, I held his eyes with mine, letting my hand travel and explore this new territory. Gently my soft fingers slid down the smooth, wet surface of his body. Down and down, over his ribcage, then around to the front as I felt the tight flesh of his stomach. Then back around and down towards the seductive curve of his narrow hips. Back again towards the middle and down as my fingertips brushed up against the base of his rapidly hardening manhood.

Now I was on my knees, his mouth parted slightly, his breath deepening as he watched me watching him while my head moved towards him, my hand now encircling the tender flesh of his cock. My mouth opened wide as I approached the expanding prick head, never taking my eyes off his. The tip of my tongue came into contact with the spongy head. With the briefest pause, I stopped.

Then I slid him into my mouth, barely stopping when the turgid head reached the back of my mouth. He was still soft enough that I could easily slide the long tool down my tight, hot throat. When I felt the brush of his pubes against my nose, only then did I close my eyes, savoring the taste of his full, hardening meat in my mouth and throat, relishing in the loud gasp, then groan, as I engulfed him.

I felt his hands on my head. Fearing that he might try to pull me off, I flung my arms around his hips and held on tight, driving my face tightly against his pelvis. I encouraged his rapid growth down my throat by flexing the muscles, imitating the action of swallowing. His hands now clutched tightly at my head, but instead of trying to dislodge me, he was grinding me against his groin even harder, moaning and thrusting his hips as he fucked my eager throat.

All too soon his cock reached its fully erect state, it's upward curve making it impossible to keep it bent down my airway. Reluctantly, I pulled back, leaving the head and a couple of inches in my warm, soft mouth. My hands wrapped themselves around the stiff, thick shaft, sliding up and down its length. My mouth sucked and my tongue danced all around the fat head as I tasted and drank in the now copious flow of pre-cum he was sending into my mouth. I opened my eyes, and again looked up at him, a little smile tugging at the corners of my stretched mouth.

"My God!" He said in French. Then switching back to English, continued, "for someone so young, you are no virgin."

Pleased with the compliment, and in a hurry to satisfy my all-too-long-delayed desire to have this young man, I pulled my mouth away from his fat prick and said, "get down here, and I'll show you just how much of a virgin I'm not."

He didn't have to be told twice as he quickly lowered himself down until he was sitting on the shower floor, his upper back against the tiled wall. As he moved down, I quickly began to undress, my sopping clothes suddenly confining, irritating. Just watching the simple act of his sitting down made me hotter, watching his body's graceful movements, the interplay of muscle under his smooth skin.

I lost all patience at this point and began ripping the clothes from my body. The buttons from my uniform shirt flew and pinged off the tile as pulled the front apart. To get my pants off, I had to stand. I was pleased to notice that he was watching my movements as closely as I'd watched his.

Standing up, my slender body fell directly under the stream of the running shower. Quickly, I undid my belt and pants button, yanking the waistband apart since my hands were shaking too much to grasp the pull-tab on my zipper. Sticking my thumbs under the waistband of my pants and underwear, I shed the last of my clothes, kicking them to the side and standing fully revealed before the object of my lust.

At fourteen years old, I was a bit small in stature for my age. Slender, wiry muscle rode on my small, almost delicate bones. My skin was completely smooth save for a small patch of fine hair that had only this past year begun growing at the base of my penis. When I was younger, I was very self-conscious about my body, being that I was almost always the smallest kid in my age group.

Later, however, this all changed when puberty hit at age twelve, and the effects of my newly awakened hormones produced what was my pride and joy...and often the envy of my peers. My body may have been about the size of the average sixth-grader, but nature had blessed me with the wonderful compensation of an oversized cock.

I took a moment as I stood there to imagine seeing myself as Jean-Claude was seeing me. This small, almost frail looking boy, water running down his compact frame. And jutting out from between those smooth, slender legs, eight hard inches of fully aroused boy cock.

I smiled down at him as he sat there in wide-eyed wonder, my hands slowly running down my glistening body, coming together between my legs and then gently running up and down the length of my pride and joy. I stood there, stroking my self slowly, sensuously, encouraging him to watch, to look and take it all in with his dark, sexy eyes. I was putting on a show, hoping the get the appreciation and encouragement from my audience that would take us to the next level.

When he tore his gaze away from my hands as I manipulated myself, he looked me square in the eyes and smiled, like a person smiling at his first meal after days of fasting. With that simple look, we both understood exactly where things now stood between us, and that any restraint or hesitation there may have once been was now gone. We were ready.

Slowly, he levered himself up from his seat there on the floor to a kneeling position in front of me. Because of the differences in our height, his head came to almost the center of my chest. He raised his hands until they were both planted firmly on my chest.

Lightly, he began fondling my smooth, developing chest, his hands rough from years of sports and physical activity, sliding across and down my tender, boyish flesh. Then I felt his soft, full lips press against my nipple, the texture of his tongue as it flickered and danced across the sensitive tip.

His hands continued down and around to my back where they came to rest against my firm, rounded backside. He gripped the twin mounds firmly in his strong hands and pulled me against him, pressing my aching erection against his chest, the length seated firmly along the ridge between his developed pectorals.

I gasped and grabbed two handfuls of hair as he suddenly bit down on the nipple he'd been teasing with his tongue. I pressed his head hard against my chest, grinding his face against me as he suckled and nibbled, his arms drawing me even tighter against his body.

His hands firmly massaged my smooth butt cheeks, causing me to grind against him, spreading my legs, hoping he would figure out what I was wanting. He did, and one hand moved deftly between the cheeks, his fingertips seeking my tight, quivering hole. When it did, I moaned low in my throat, gyrating my hips around the digit, pressing myself back against it. Soon, I felt it enter my ass. He was trying to be gentle, but I was so keyed up that I couldn't wait, and shoved my hips back, trapping his whole finger in my eager ass.

My head whipped back, throwing streamers of water across the shower room, as I let out a loud moan. I knew that I was very close to losing it, gripped as I was in this sensual fever. I arched my back away from his head, breaking the suction of his mouth on my nipple. My hands still gripping his hair, I guided his head down towards my long, aching prick. Without hesitation he took it deeply in his mouth. Much as I wanted him to, it was much too hard for him to take down his throat.

My hips were pumping now, moving back onto his invading finger, thrusting forward to invade his mouth as deeply as I could. His hot, wet tongue lapped all over the pistoning shaft, his lips sealed and suctioning hard on my long tool. In just a few moment, I let loose a flood of long-built- up ball juice into him.

I couldn't even tell if I was cumming in spurts or if I was just letting loose with one long, torrential ejaculation. I did know however that it was the most soul-wracking, body draining orgasm of my young life, as evidenced by the taut arching of my body and the copious amounts of sperm flowing from the corners of Jean-Claude's mouth, despite his desperate attempt to swallow all that I was giving him.

Soon...all too soon...it faded. My breathing was deep and rapid and my legs began to weaken, the strength running out of them as quickly as my cum had run out of my aching balls. Clinging, clutching to Jean-Claude's muscular body for support, I lowered myself down until I was sitting on his thighs. Gasping for air, I leaned forward, my head tilted up towards his mouth, my lips pressed against his and my tongue probed his mouth, tasting the fresh seed I'd just deposited there.

As we kissed, I held him close, rubbing my wet body against his, our skin slipping and sliding with delicious ease and passionate friction. Though I had just cum, I was still hard and I pressed myself against his flat, hard belly. His own erection was pressing between my ass cheeks, its warmth and hardness exciting me further.

I broke the kiss and began to move my mouth down his hard body, licking, sucking and even biting a bit as I moved down to his broad, firm chest. I quickly pressed my soft lips against his erect nipple and began suctioning hard on the firm nub. My tongue and teeth toyed with it as my hands slid down between our bodies and I took firm grip of his massive erection. Moving down from his chest, I turned my body until my face was directly over his groin. I looked down at the rigid pole in my hands, too thick for my fingers to reach around it. The head was a swollen, angry purple as I squeezed it, sliding my hand up and producing a runnel of thick, clear fluid from the slit. My body quivered in anticipation of the stretching out this magnificent tool would give me. I took a deep breath and moved my head downward.

Without pausing, I swallowed him whole, burying my nose between his tightly drawn scrotum. I ran my fingernails along the his inner thighs, moving them down then drawing them back up until I was cupping his ample testicles. My head was bobbing up and down on his hard meat stick, my throat and tongue squeezing and licking his shaft and head.

My mouth action had this full-grown jock boy writhing in ecstasy beneath me. I was working his cock like there was no tomorrow, all my frustration and sexual tension of the last few months driving me into this sexual frenzy.

Cognizance began to fade as I let myself fall into a world of pure sensation. I was only aware of what I felt, the hard, wet body squirming beneath me. The thick, hard pole stretching and sliding in and out of my throat as I bobbed up and down on it. Jean-Claude's hands running up and down my back, gripping my firm, supple cheeks as he maneuvered me around so that my still-hard eight inches was poised over his face.

Then I felt my own engorged cockhead pressing against and then past his soft, full lips as he slid me into his mouth. I moaned deeply around the thick meat in my mouth as he took my cock into his warm, wet oral cavity. I felt his tongue dance and play with the shaft as he took more and more of me in. A pause, then the sensation of the sensitive head pressed against the opening to his throat. Then, suddenly, there was intense heat and pressure as he raised his head and engulfed me completely.

I was moaning loudly now, whimpering like some abused animal as he milked and sucked my swollen member. He was working on it as intensely as I'd been working on his, his grip on my ass firm and controlling. I knew that he would soon bring me off again, but I wasn't ready for that just yet. The sexual beast I was hadn't yet had his fill.

Quickly, I raised my hips away from his head and shifted my body forward. Once I had my cock fully freed, I pressed my hips against his broad chest, my prick safely pressed between our bodies, and my fully exposed ass right in front of his face.

Slowly, I began grinding against him, waving my tight, pink hole invitingly in front of him. He didn't need any more encouragement than that. His grip on my ass tightened as he raised his head and buried his face between my smooth, spread melons.

Digging his fingernails into the tender flesh of my ass, he began to devour me like I'd never had done before. His tongue was everywhere, doing everything I'd ever imagined a tongue could do. He was tickling along the sensitive surface of my hairless orifice, then plunging it into me, his lips sealed tightly against the smooth skin. His head was moving up and down and side to side, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh where my cheeks curved down to my thighs.

In just a few moments, he had me reduced to a state of utter, mindless ecstasy. My whole body quivered and I was whimpering and whining like a starved puppy. Deep inside, I could feel the vibrations of his probing tongue and growling voice as he ravenously attacked my most personal spot.

My senses were about to overload, and I knew that I had to have him inside me. I wanted him to take me, possess me and use me to his complete pleasure. Turning around again, I slid my way down his torso until I felt his cock pressing against my backside.

Reaching behind me, I made sure that he was still well lubed with pre-cum and my own juices. The rigid pole slid easily in my grasp, and for the first time, Jean-Claude spoke.

"Daniel, stand up. Over there, against the wall," he said.

Quickly, I complied, jumping up and moving to the shower wall, spreading my legs and pressing my palms against the wall, presenting him with the inviting target of my ass. So I was surprised when he came up from behind me, gently but firmly grabbed one arm and turned me around until I was facing him.

"Not that way," he said. "I want to see your face when I pound that hot little ass of yours, boy."

I was a bit confused now, trying to imagine just how he was planning on taking me. As long as he took me though, was all I cared about, and his aggressiveness was definitely a turn-on for me. The prospect of being pounded by that thick, eight-inch cock had my tight hole quivering in anticipation.

Reaching down, he grabbed my leg just behind the knee and raised it until it rested in the crook of his bent elbow. I had the idea now of how he was wanting to approach this, so I raised one shoulder from the shower wall, turning it towards him, giving him freer access to spit-slickened hole.

Bending at the knees and moving forward, he lined up the head of his fat meat with my opening, using his thumb to find the precise target. Then, with gentle, steady pressure, he began to press forward, stretching the tight aperture with his hard, full cockhead.

Slowly, steadily he pressed until suddenly the muscle gave way to his pressure and the head popped into me, making me yelp with pain, my hand shooting out to clutch his shoulder. He rested there a moment, letting me get used to his cocks massive girth.

With his free hand, he pressed against the shoulder pointed towards him, indicating that I should put it back against the wall. As I did so, he reached down and grasped my other leg just behind the knee and before I knew it, I lost all contact with the ground as he quickly raised my leg so that it was secured over his elbow like my other one.

He held me like that for a moment, my shoulders pressed against the shower wall, most of my weight being supported by his strong arms. I had never been fucked like this before, but I was a fast learner and eager to have the rest of his powerful cock inside me.

Slowly, I raised my legs, causing my body to slide down, the direction being guided by the hard rod jutting from between his legs. Down I slid, filling myself with that wonderful tool. Inch by inch I impaled myself, feeling it stretch and fill my ass further and further.

After what seemed an eternity, my ass came to rest against his pelvis. I had him completely inside of me, the heat and pressure radiating throughout my whole body. From this position, it felt as if my whole weight and body were being supported by his rigid member.

Jean-Claude watched me the whole time as I took his fat tool inside my ass. My eyes had rolled back in my head in ecstasy as my teeth bit into my lower lip in agony. I couldn't remember being so full like this. When I did look up at him, my normally bright, blue eyes were dark and unfocused as the feel of him overtook my senses.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked. My answer was a deep, hard kiss as I clutched and dragged his head down to where I could reach it. This caused him to curl his back, driving him further still inside of me. I screamed into his open mouth, a high, keening sound, an echo of the lust racing through my young body.

Slowly, he began pumping his hips back and forth, sliding his huge pole in and out of my burning guts. Soon though, with my sounds of encouragement, he began to thrust hard and fast upwards. He pressed me harder against the wall as he slammed himself home again and again.

My legs flailed helplessly in the air, my hands clinging to his arms for support as he bounced me up off his pelvis, letting my own weight slam me back down against it. I was riding his bucking hips like there was no tomorrow, my voice, high and strained, echoed off the shower walls as pounded himself in and out of my eager hole.

Within a few moments, his body tensed. I could see the cords of muscle standing out on his chest just as I could feel a huge swelling deep in my gut. He was cumming, and his body was wracked with spasms of bliss as one load after another fired it's way into my steaming cavity.

The suddenness of the expansion of him inside me, as well as the force of each volley of sperm he delivered sent me over the top and I began spraying both of us with my own seed. Quickly I grabbed my shooting prick and pressed it away from my body, quickly jacking it even though it had started cumming before I'd even touched it.

Shot after shot went flying into the air; three feet, two feet, one foot, until finally it began to subside, the thick white fluid now leaking out with each thrust of Jean-Claude's hips against my suspended ass.

Jean-Claude's thighs were shaking now. Spent, he began to sink to the floor, taking me down as he held himself inside me. Soon, we were both on the floor; me on my back with my legs high and wide in the air, him on top of me, his still-hard cock buried inside of me.

Soon, our breathing began to return to normal. I slowly lowered my legs and managed to extricate Jean-Claude's fat pole from my worn orifice. He stayed on his knees and elbows, giving me room to move around beneath him. I lifted myself upwards and sealed my lips to his, shoving my tongue into his mouth and running all around.

My legs were running up and down the length of his thighs, the heels of my bare feet brushing against the rise of his firm ass. I didn't have to look down to know that I was still very hard despite having cum twice already. This was not unusual for me at all. Nor were the thoughts that were racing through my mind now. Having just been so thoroughly ploughed by the gorgeous stud that I'd been longing for all these weeks, I was quite eager to return the favor.

Letting myself back down onto the floor, I slid out from beneath Jean-Claude and moved around until I was behind him. Thinking that I was done and leaving to get dressed, he was understandably surprised when I suddenly attacked his ass with my mouth. Looking down between his legs, he could see my kneeling form behind him, with my pride and joy jutting straight up from between my smooth, slender legs.

"My God!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe that you still want more."

"Mm hmm," was the only reply I gave, muffled as it was while I was driving my tongue between his hard, jock ass cheeks.

With my chin against his perineum as it was, I could tell that he was back to being fully hard. I felt his hand reach around behind him as he grabbed a handful of my hair and began driving my face into his ass even harder. In a low, husky voice, he issued his challenge.

"Ok, boy. Let us see if you can give it as well as you take it. Show me you know how to use that oversized boy prick of yours."

His aggressive tone and manner only made me hotter. His tone challenged me while his words provoked me. He must have known that calling any 14-year-old "boy" would only make them fight harder.

So while he kneeled there, I continued working on his ass with my tongue as he moved my head all around by my hair. I began gathering the ample supply of cum that had accumulated on my chest and was smearing it all over the full length of my cock. Soon I was ready to pick up the challenge.

Pulling away from his grasping hand, I quickly stood up behind him, my staff sticking out proudly from my groin. Planting one hand on Jean-Claude's hip, I used the other to guide myself towards his exposed opening. Once I felt the soft, puckered flesh against the end of my cock, I gave a short jab with my hips, driving the swollen cockhead just inside of him.

As I'd expected, he yelped with surprise and pain at my rapid insertion.

"What's the matter?" I taunted, slowly moving my hips from side to side, stretching and relaxing the shocked muscle. "Can't you handle all this 'boy' is going to give you? When I'm done, we'll see who the 'boy' is."

Jean-Claude let out a long, hissing "ye-e-s-s-s-s" in response, so I knew his was ready. With a quick, steady movement, I buried myself into his hot, quivering, upturned ass.

Jean-Claude's head shot up from the floor as he yelled in pain and ecstasy. I quickly moved both of my hands up to his shoulders, letting my full lower weight press against his muscular ass while supporting my upper on his broad shoulders. Having found my footing, I proceeded to fuck his tight, jock butt.

I started slow, but as his shoulders began to sink lower and lower with each thrust, I picked up the pace. I was wallowing in the heat and tightness of him, my narrow hips slapping against his hard, muscled cheeks. Now he was groaning and moaning beneath me, his shoulders now resting on the wet floor tiles, his head turned to one side, his mouth open and gasping, his eyes clenched shut as I pounded my overgrown cock in and out of him.

"So, how do you like this 'boy' fucking you now, huh?" I growled. "You like it? You like having my oversized cock busting your ass like this. Is this how 'boys' do it?"

I couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. I'd always been an enthusiastic and often loud sex partner, but this was very different for me. I'd never gone after someone like this. Somehow, he'd found and pushed all the right buttons to get me to fuck him like a wild man.

And he was loving it. He was pushing back against me, begging me to fuck him harder and harder as he rocked back into each of my thrusts. Soon the sound of his begging and my hips slapping against his ass were the sounds that echoed through the shower room.

Since I'd already cum twice, I knew it going to take a while for me to get off again. That's why I was surprised when after only a few minutes, I began to feel that all too familiar tingle reaching out from my cock, causing my balls to draw up tight in my smooth nut sack.

Before I knew it, I was exploding into Jean-Claude's ass. I could feel myself swell inside him and begin greasing his innards with my boy juice. Right in the middle of my own explosion, I felt the familiar tightening around my spasming cock as Jean-Claude started to cum as well.

Both our bodies were writhing in exquisite agony as we drained every last drop from our overworked testicles. I fought to stay attached to Jean-Claude as he bucked and jumped beneath me, covering the floor in a thick layer of his heavy juices.

Eventually, our climaxes faded. I had never felt so utterly drained in my life. I collapsed onto Jean-Claude's broad, muscular back in exhaustion as my cock slowly, finally, softened and withdrew from his delicious warmth. I must have grayed-out or something, because suddenly, we were both lying on the floor, our legs being sprayed by the water from showers overhead.

And Jean-Claude was looking at me, smiling.

"My God," he panted. "That was incredible. You are quite the little devil, you are. Or no, perhaps you are an angel. I don't know, they're so hard to tell apart sometimes. But I do know one thing; you and I are going to have lots of fun this year." And with that, he drew me close and kissed me, making me sheltering my frail, spent body in is strong arms.

Jean-Claude and I did have considerable fun for most of that year. Unfortunately, Jean-Claude got expelled shortly after mid-terms. I never did get all the details, but it was apparently over some incident in the locker room with one -- and in some stories, several -- of his soccer team mates.

However, we did make the most of the time that we did have together. When it came to sex, Jean- Claude was as insatiable as I was. Better still, he had a wonderfully active imagination. That was the year that I learned and experienced more in the sexual arena than most do their entire lives. Jean-Claude was a great teacher, and I was certainly a most apt pupil.

I suppose some could say we were lovers, since we truly did love each other. But we also knew that our situation was too impermanent. There was much more ahead of both of us that would take us in God only knew where. And there was security in our situation, knowing that even if one should want, we would never hurt each other. We even managed to have others join us for mutual fun and frolicking, though they were more diversions.

We took and gave a lot during those months together. Much of it all the more exciting because of the secrecy we had to maintain. So when he was expelled, I was both heart-broken and terrified. Heart-broken at the loss of my truest and dearest friend, and terrified that my father would find out the details the school took such pains to hide.

That was the main reason I was so nervous that day in the lawyer's office two years ago. If he had found out that there was another "deviant" sharing the same floor with me, we was bound to suspect that something would have passed between us. Fortunately, he remained oblivious to the entire event that caused Jean-Claude's expulsion.

And it was after he was out of my life that I decided that the one my parents were expecting of me was something that I could not and would not give them. That was when I started to dream and plan a future that was truly mine.

CHAPTER SIX

And now, twelve years later at a street cafe in his native Paris, Jean-Claude and I were reunited. But what now would or could come of that reunion?

My mind having returned to the present with Jean-Claude standing before me in the flesh, I sat down and invited him to join me. Pulling up the chair next to me, Jean-Claude and I began to talk, and a new future began to take place for me, as Jean-Claude began to fill me in on the past twelve years.

TO BE CONTINUED.