'lo all. I started this story on Nifty too long ago but had to leave it after only the 1st 2 chapters per posted. STARbooks wanted me to compile and edit my 6th erotic anthology and, of course, I couldn't say no...LOVERS WHO STAY WITH YOU, 400 pps of vampiric romance and hot sex should be on the stands by late summer or early autumn 2003. Now, I'm back and thinking about Brent's Dick again.
This story is gay fiction. No reality is implied. Additionally, the rough time frame for this story is mid- to late-1950s -- when condoms were used for 1 reason only, to prevent pregnancy. It's taken the death of far too many good men (and women) for us finally to have learnt that condoms prevent STDs in addition to unwanted pregnancies.
I have revisited the 1st 2 chapters and made revisions that help in the character development as well as ensure the logical consistency of the tale. These are 1A and 2A -- please read these rather than the orginal versions, they'll flow more smoothly.
Please feel free to tell me what you think at Vichowel@aol.com. I'll try to answer any who write.
DISCLAIMER: You know the drill -- no one under 18 reading this perv stuff, breeder readers should look elsewhere for their jollies, the spiritually impaired need to go find hate "literature" to read, and this story and its parts are copyrighted by Dave MacMillan, 2003.
Brent's Dick
Chapter One
I was frozen stiff with shock. I was lying on my bed, naked. My hand was wrapped around my dick, its movement arrested in mid-stroke.
It took forever for me to remember to breathe. Somehow, my shock slowly began to ebb.
My heart began to pound as I started trying to convince myself to open my eyes. I remembered that I was naked and had been jerking off.
"Unlatch the screen, Vic," Brent whispered again.
My eyes flew open then. Oh, shit! It really was Brent Granger out there. I hadn't just been getting into jacking off so deep that I'd thought he was whispering to me.
He was seeing me naked. With a hard-on. Jacking off. Thinking about him.
I stared at him, holding onto the heating oil drum against the back of the house with his face pressed against the screen window, grinning at me.
Brent Granger who oozed sex appeal out of every pore of his body. Brent Granger who'd had me wondering what was in his jeans since I first saw him at the picture show the beginning of the summer. I'd been so tongue-tied, I almost couldn't ask him for my ticket to Auntie Mame.
His skin was swarthy. His hair was black and curly -- and looked like he used oil to comb it. His eyes were black and shiny. He was almost six feet, and his whole body looked like he could pass for one of those Greek statues. He was sixteen, had just moved to town, and already had every girl in Soul creaming her panties.
He was also white trash. He was the sort of boy no girl's family wanted hanging around and the kind that spelled B-A-D N-E-W-S to a good boy's folks. Despite the fact that he was two years older than me, I'd become his only male friend (and that was more on the sly as far as my mom was concerned).
He was bare-chested and had on a pair of cut-offs as he studied me.
I was still holding my hard dick.
"Go around to the door, Brent," I squeaked. "I'll throw on some clothes and let you in."
"Just unlatch the window, Vic," he told me. "If I come around to the front, some nosy neighbor's going to tell your ma I visited."
I reached for my briefs.
"Don't worry about covering up." He chuckled. "I've already seen your pride and joy, boy. Come on, let me in."
I sat up and scooted to the side of the bed nearest the window. My hand covering my package, I reached out to unlatch the screen to let him in.
"What do you think of when you're beating your meat, Vic?" he asked after he was inside. He was standing between me and the window. His knees touched mine and his crotch was way too close to my face for comfort. I was staring at his crotch.
I was still hard as a fucking brick.
My cheeks flaming, I looked up into his face.
He grinned back at me as he toed off his sneakers.
"Shit, Brent!" I growled and the small part of me that was noticing was proud that my voice didn't go off the scale. "What does any guy think about when he's doing it?"
He shrugged. His grin grew. "I don't know. Different strokes for different guys; and they're all pretty good..."
"Yeah? What do you think about?"
I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that one. The word was out that he was dicking Glenda Faye Clarke regularly -- and that was just the talk around the swimming pool and the picture show. The summer was only a month old.
"Sometimes," he drawled, "I think of your lips sliding down my dick and your nose buried in my pubes."
I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering down his smooth chest and stopping at the front of his cut-offs -- again.
He was filling them out quickly.
"I never...!" I squeaked.
Wrong thing to say. I knew that immediately. I hadn't denied my interest. Oh, shit!
"This morning's a good time to start," he said softly. "Take them off for us."
My dick jerked. "I'm not queer!" I said with no force at all behind the words.
"No one's going to know, Vic."
"I..."
I couldn't pull my gaze from the front of his pants. His dick had already grown out to his hip and the thing looked thick as hell behind its denim wall.
He reached down into my lap and took my hands in his. He placed one of them on each hip. They stayed where he put them as he unbuttoned the waist of his cut-offs.
"Pull them down, Vic," he whispered.
I couldn't believe that I was in this situation. I couldn't believe that he wanted me to -- what?
But I was almost where I would see him naked. I licked my lips.
Of course, I wanted to see him naked. I wanted to touch his dick. I even wanted to suck it. But that was supposed to be my secret. My very private secret that no one would ever know.
Only, he knew now. At least, he suspected it. And I couldn't think of a way to make him stop thinking about what I might do.
"You're doing Glenda Faye!" I cried.
He laughed. "Yeah. But no girl can give a decent blow job. It takes a man to know what a man likes." He shrugged. "Besides, I really like sex a lot and I don't see her enough to stay satisfied."
His face became serious. "Pull them down, Vic." He worked the zipper down and the flaps of his cut-offs flared open. "I really need some help fast."
He wasn't wearing underwear.
My gaze was glued to the shiny black curls of his pubes that had appeared. I couldn't think. I only felt desire. To see him. To touch him. To ... On their own, my hands eased his cut-offs over his ass and onto his thighs.
His dick sprang out of its cloth prison and pointed straight out at me, its head glistening with pre-cum. I stared at it, hypnotized by its length. By its width. By the skin bunched behind its head.
"Lick it, Vic," he encouraged me. "Help me out here."
Unconscious that I was doing so, I leant closer as his cut-offs reached his knees. I let them go, my fingers moving up his legs to caress his skin. His clothes fell to the floor as my tongue touched the head of his dick.
I kept leaning nearer and his tool slipped through my lips.
"That feels so good," he moaned above me.
I heard him but I didn't hear him. My mind was concentrated on what I was doing. Not the right or wrong of it. Just the mechanics of sucking a boy off.
His dick was as hard as steel, but warm and -- I don't know -- pliable? Its head as its moved over my tongue was hot and spongy -- though it was as hard as the rest of it. My taste buds were being smeared with pre-cum. There was hardly any taste but what was there was pure Brent Garner. His essence. I knew, in that moment, that I would always recognize his taste after this.
I held one asscheek to steady myself and wondered at how smooth and how firm his fanny was under my fingers.
I cupped his balls with my other hand and was amazed at how big they felt. How low they hung.
I knew that I would always want to feel him. His dick on my tongue. His balls in my hand. His ass and body under my touch. Under my tongue. As long as I could touch him. And feel him. And taste him.
"Watch the teeth," he groaned. "Cover them with your lips."
I stared at his pubes and wondered if they'd tickle if I rubbed my nose against them.
I wanted to rub my nose against them and inched further down his shaft. My jaws were stretched as wide as I could get them. The head of his dick was already pressing against my wisdom teeth. And, looking down my nose to see his shaft, it looked as if I only had taken half of him.
I tried for another inch and gagged as his helmet pushed against the opening of my throat. I pulled back to just his head with tears in my eyes and looked up at him.
"Don't worry about taking all of it this time around, Vic," he said gently, his fingers caressing my shoulders. "Just work on the head. I'm pretty big. It'll take you a few times; but, pretty soon, you'll be taking all of it."
I lost myself in swabbing his helmet with my tongue and bobbing up and down on the first couple of inches of his shaft. I didn't feel the ache in my jaws or think of my hard dick. I was content with just the feel of Brent and giving him pleasure.
It seemed like forever and, at the same time, like it had only been a moment when Brent's hands moved up my shoulders onto my neck. His dick seemed to get bigger in my mouth.
"I'm almost there, Vic," he moaned. "Take my load. Swallow it for me."
His words didn't have time to register in my mind before I felt the first rope erupt from his dick and splash against the roof of my mouth. He pulled my face further onto him before the next surge could hit. It went straight down my throat as did the rest of his load.
But the first rope had been enough. I'd tasted Brent. I couldn't imagine not swallowing anything he put in my mouth -- ever.
His dick softened slightly as I continued to swab its head with my tongue. He shuddered and pulled his pole out of my mouth.
"I'm too sensitive right after I shoot for you to continue working it like that," he said and pulled me against his belly, hugging me.
I had one arm draped over his buttcheeks at the small of his back and the other rested across his thighs. My face pressed against his belly button. In a self-satisfied daze, I watched his dick soften and the skin slide over that helmet and hide it. I could still taste him.
Brent gave the hug a full count of five. Maybe even ten. He released me then and stepped back.
I sat back on my bed, my dick hard and drooling, and looked up at him.
My mind switched back on.
I blanched. Then, every bit of skin on me turned burning red. I stared at him like he was a snake.
I'd just sucked Brent off. I'd swallowed his load. Everybody in town was going to know I was queer.
I was dead meat and I wasn't even in ninth grade yet. I'd have no life at all the next four years. And mom would kill me. At least, she'd ground me forever.
Brent winked. His hand gripped my knee as he bent to pick up his cut-offs. "It's going to be okay, Vic."
"I just sucked you off!" I groaned. "I swallowed it even!" I looked around my room like a condemned man seeing his cell the last time. "How can it ever be okay?"
Who was this bastard anyway, I thought to myself. I'd wanted to see him naked. I'd wanted to touch him. I even accepted that part of me had wanted what happened. But that didn't mean it was ever supposed to happen. It didn't mean that anybody ought to know I wanted to do that kind of shit.
But now? I'd got what I wanted. I could still taste his load. And I was labelled. Right now, only he and I knew about it. But that wasn't going to last. I was dead.
"Why can't it be okay?" he asked.
"I sucked you off..."
"So?"
"Everybody's going to know. I'm as good as dead-"
"Nobody's going to know -- unless you tell them."
"You aren't going to want to be seen with me..." My gaze fell to his limp dick. "Except when you want -- you know..."
"Why wouldn't I?" He grinned. "Want to go up to the swimming pool and see what's happening?"
I looked in his face, staring at him. Was Brent really going to treat me as a friend? As anything but his queer? I couldn't believe it.
He kept watching me as he stepped into his cut-offs and pulled them up. A little smile curved his lips. My eyes dropped to his groin and I watched as his dick was hidden behind that denim and wished it was hard again. I swallowed hard when I realised that I wanted to suck him again, to taste him again.
He sat on the bed beside me.
"Look, Vic, it doesn't matter that you like dick. It also doesn't matter that I like that you like it. It'll just help us to be better friends." He looked into my eyes. "We just have to be careful not to let anybody else know..."
"You liked me doing that? You accept it?"
He nodded.
"You think it's just like me buying you a Coke or something?"
"Isn't it?"
"Normal people buy each other Cokes and stuff -- they don't go around sucking a boy's dick," I mumbled.
"Sex is sex, Vic. It's all good so long as the people involved are doing what they want to."
"Yeah?" I grunted. "I bet you don't suck dick."
He shrugged. "I have. If it pays or it's a really special friend, I don't mind."
"You suck dick?" I gasped.
"I have. Mostly older guys who wanted to have sex with me. They paid me. But I had a couple of friends I fooled around with some, back where I used to live."
"You were-" I tried to comprehend what he'd just admitted and put it to words. "You were a whore? A queer whore?"
"I don't really like those two words, Vic," he said and laid back on the bed. "Mom's a barmaid, Vic. Ever since I can remember she never had money. Usually there was some man porking her and leaving just enough behind when he left for us to cover rent. If I wanted money, for clothes even, I had to earn it myself. I was eleven when I found out that some men thought I was cute and would pay to have some of me."
"You sucked them off -- guys you didn't even know?" I wondered.
"That and other things. After I got to where I could shoot, I was big enough down there that most of them were willing just to suck me or have me fuck them."
"Why didn't you -- you do me then?" I asked, not really sure of what was being said here.
He sat up and grinned.
"You want me to suck you off?" he asked.
"It'd make me feel a whole lot safer," I told him. I liked where this discussion was going. My dick jerked in anticipation.
"Okay, I will."
"Yeah?"
My dick began to ooze pre-cum. I spread my legs and leaned back on my elbows. I wished that I was bigger down there; it was almost embarrassing how much bigger he was than me. But my five inches were all I had and I wanted them sucked.
"After you've let me fuck you the first time," he told me and his hand sped down my thigh towards my balls -- and behind them.
Sitting up fast, I stared at him in surprise. My dick stayed hard, still anticipating.
"Fuck me?" I gulped, my gaze dropping to his crotch. "You've got Glenda Faye for that..."
He nodded.
"Why do you want to fuck me then?" I gasped.
"I can be around you a lot more often than I can a girl and nobody'll think anything about it." He grinned. "Besides, you aren't going to start talking about love -- like any girl will. And I don't have to buy rubbers when we're fucking."
"I don't think..."
"You aren't ready for that yet, and that's okay." He stood up. "Get your swim trunks on. We're going to the pool."
I scooted across the bed and grabbed a pair of trunks out of the drawer. I looked at him over my shoulder as I pulled the shorts over my feet.
"How big is that thing anyway?" I asked even as I began to wonder what it'd feel like to have him shoving his dick up my butt.
"Eight and a half inches long. Six inches around." He chuckled. "We'll wait to plug you until you can take it all down your throat."
"Jesus!" I croaked and pulled my trunks up.
My butt hurt just at the thought of that thing of his tearing into it. But it also itched like it wanted him scratching it inside. My dick stayed hard as I covered it.
That night, I almost cried as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. I'd sucked Brent's dick. I'd swallowed his load. Most of me wanted to do it again -- that and let him cornhole me. I wanted to feel his naked body against mine.
I was queer. A faggot.
I wasn't going to have a friend in the world once the word got around about me. The only people who'd even be willing to talk to me were the guys who wanted me swinging on their poles. Even then, they wouldn't allow themselves to be seen with me or talk to me in public -- I was dead meat.
I imagined a couple of the better looking boys I knew were in high school. Naked. Their big dicks touching my lips. Their eyes full of lust as they watched me open my mouth to take them in.
I shuddered. I had to find a way to hide what I'd become.
Brent had said that no one was going to know that I sucked dick. Unless I told them. That sure wasn't going to happen. My lips were sealed.
I'd never look at a boy's crotch again -- ever. I sure as hell wouldn't look at any naked dicks in the shower after gym. I just prayed that Brent would keep his word and not tell anybody what I'd done.
I knew that my chances of Brent keeping his lips sealed were slim, but it was the only hope I had. I might just survive high school if I was lucky. I determined to hold onto that hope with everything I had. And to keep my eyes from wandering. I sure as hell wasn't about to become a slut like Glenda Faye was; Brent would be enough.