Dream Boy Series

By J. A. Kidd

Published on Apr 20, 2015

Gay

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Footsteps overhead awoke me. I was still cuddling Stevie, his warm body felt sweet and soft against mine. I tried not to wake him as I slipped my arm out from under him, but he opened his eyes and looked up at me.

"Go back to sleep," I whispered, giving him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "It's okay."

He nodded sleepily and rolled back over.

As quietly as I could, I slid out into the den and made my way upstairs.

I found Ernie in the kitchen, making coffee. He greeted me warmly, scooping me up in his strong arms and hugging me Good morning. I hugged his neck, nuzzling my face against his.

He fixed me a bowl of cereal and sat me at the kitchen table, fetching himself a cup of the dark aromatic brew and sitting with me.

We talked quietly. He didn't ask the usual adult questions, or rather didn't ask them the same way. He wanted to know my opinions on the typical subjects of school and friends and girls and life. When we got around to the subject of the men in my life, he asked what I liked about it.

Shrugging, I told him the truth. "I like feeling special."

"You are special, Kid," he told me. "You're the most special boy I've ever known."

The glowing warmth his response gave me must have shown in my smile, because he slid his chair back and offered me his lap. I was not about to refuse that. He held me and rocked gently to and fro, kissing my forehead and my cheek and my lips.

We were still sitting there, loving each other sweetly when Dwayne arrived. He smiled and went to the coffee maker. "Morning," he said.

I wanted to stay there all day.

In the barn, we found balls for every sport imaginable, an indoor basketball court, and even a pair of pinball machines. We boys played and tossed a baseball around and ran around like the children we were. When the men came out to watch and join, Robbie went to one of the pinball machines and stayed there.

We had a small lunch before going back into the den to watch another of Ernie's collection of movies (one of the Disney films. I don't exactly remember which one).

When I asked about the hot tub, Ernie told me what it was and promised that we'd get to use it, going out to turn up the heater. When the movie ended, we did just that. I was the one that suggested skinny-dipping. Stevie was fine with it (as were each of the four men), but Robbie wanted a swim suit.

It was great. The warm water was countered by the cool, crisp air above it. I sat on laps and kissed and hugged and even got Stevie to sit on mine.

And then the party started. We went back in, dried off quickly, but didn't bother putting any clothes on.

I thought it would go the same way, so I started rubbing Robbie's back and kissing his shoulders, finally having to ask him, "Why won't you let me?"

He gave in. Stevie watched me suck him hard and get on all fours. He was still hesitant, so I looked over my shoulder and actually said, "C'mon, man. Fuck me."

Dropping to his knees, he got in behind me. It was a grudge-fuck, a hate-fuck. He drove in harder and harder, like he was trying to make me not like it. He failed. The harder he fucked me the more I liked it. He came with a growl, then pushed me away and scooted to the wall.

I couldn't have cared less.

Nick got down on the floor with me and I sucked him off while little Stevie went for my butt. When he finished (which took almost no time at all) he wiped himself clean and lay down beside me.

After eating Nick's offering, I went ahead and sucked Stevie, who wanted to try getting fucked, but only by me. How could I refuse such a sweet offer.

I understood why they all liked it so much. His tight, little butt felt wonderful as I slid in and out of him. He struggled at first, but he got into it. I shot my first load into another boy's butt, shaking with the intensity of it. We cuddled for a while when I finished, but there were other peckers that demanded my attention. With a sweet, deep kiss, I left him there and went to tend to Ronnie.

Once again, I went after them all. We tried different positions. Nick sat in the recliner with me on his lap, riding him like a rocking horse. Dwayne got me on the love seat, one leg dangling off the front while he knelt behind me and drilled me. Ronnie lay me on my belly on the thick, shag carpet and lay atop me, driving in with smooth strokes. Ernie had figured out what I liked quickly. He put me on the bean bag chair, facing him with one ankle in each hand, taking his time with me and always, always looking me in the eye and smiling that beautiful smile.

When he got closer to the moment of release, he leaned down, pinning my legs back with those wonderful, strong arms, and kissed me as he pumped in and out. I was so incredibly hot for him that I came three times before he finally sent his own load up into my hungry ass.

The rest of the night, I was given my choice. I went to each of them at least once more, but when I told Ernie to make it last, the others had to make do with what Stevie and Robbie were willing to do.

For well over an hour, as the night grew late, Ernie filled my colon with his massive cock. He would switch from tender, easy strokes to powerful, pounding thrusts.

Again, I came several times before he did. It felt so magnificent.

When he was about to lose control, I whispered, "Go on. As hard as you want."

He smiled down at me, warm and loving, but there was a playful gleam in his eye. I had asked for it, and he gave it to me. It seemed to make him last longer, for which I was monumentally grateful.

Pulling himself all the way out, the head of his cock actually leaving my gaping hole for an instant, he slammed his weight down on me, forcing that mammoth all the way in. It was un-fucking-believable.

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM. WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP.

Oh. My. God. He. Was. Fuck. Ing. Me. So. Hard. Oh. Yes. So. Good. Oh. God. Oh. God. Oh. Ah. Oh. Ah.

I grunted with joy each time he pounded himself into me. I came again, producing less, but with far more intensity. He started growling, slamming, pounding, driving, pummeling.

His orgasm caused him to lock up, filling me with both pecker and seed. He shook from its strength and ferocity. I felt every spasm inside me, every jolt of precious bliss. My ass was burning and raw, but I wanted it to go on forever.

Alas, he had worn himself out. With only a few more slippery pumps, he kissed me as deeply as I wanted him to, with such passion, such love and hunger.

Then we collapsed from exhaustion, still clinging to each other.

My head was ringing. Time meant nothing. The world was spinning.

It was the most sublime moment of my life.

I slept like a log that night.

In the morning, we said Goodbye with long, loving kisses and Dwayne drove me home.

"Did you have fun?" Mom wanted to know.

"Yeah." If she saw my smile, she didn't understand it.

It would be two weeks before our next party.

Once more, I couldn't wait.

There were two new boys that second weekend. Robbie had finally been taken by his grandmother and Stevie had some family function or another. Ronnie was gone, too, having found himself a girlfriend. Nick was busy.

So, it was me, Dwayne, "Bob", "Jimmy", "Zach", and the beautiful Ernie.

Jimmy was my age, though I was closer to my thirteenth birthday than he was. Zach had just turned twelve. Bob was in his early forties, also had a belly, but had less hair than Dwayne (as well as more "meat", if you know what I mean).

It was more fun with these two boys. They were both almost as into it as I was. At some point, Ernie brought out an eight-millimeter camera and started filming us. (What ever became of that film, I have no idea. It was the only time he did so)

We had quite a good time, the three of us. I got to fuck as much as I got fucked.

Then the men got involved. One on one. Two on one. Tag-teaming. We did it all. When I got horny, I demanded that all of them, boys and men, pull a train on me. I wanted them all, one after another.

Ending with my beloved Ernie.

Instead of going into the bunkroom, each boy went to bed with one of the men.

Dwayne chose Zach. Bob took Jimmy.

Which left me in the blissful company of Ernie.

We had a slow, tender round of love in his huge, warm bed and curled up together for the night. I could not have been happier.

That Saturday was another series of play, love, and raw, beastly fucking.

Again, I slept in Ernie's strong, loving arms. I had never felt so loved, heart, body, and soul. After that gentle session of pure loving coupling, he looked down at me with that smile of his and said what I had longed to hear him say (and it was him that said it first). "I love you, Kid."

"I love you, too."

We had sparse meetings for a couple months. Thanksgiving took one weekend away from me with only one more between then and the Christmas holidays.

The roster of men changed sometimes. Dwayne and Ernie (oh, wonderful, blessed Ernie) were the only constants. Bob one time, Nick the next. Ronnie made one more appearance, but never did come back.

Zach and Jimmy were there most of the time, and Stevie (who grew more and more adventurous) came more often.

It always started with us boys loving each other.

And I always got to sleep in Ernie's bed, wrapped in his arms. He would talk with me and explain things and answer my questions. He taught me about why the government ran the way it did, about how school was more important than I might have thought, but also how it was less important than working hard. He explained the idiocy of racism and hatred of those that were different. Anything and everything I asked, he would answer as best he could. He even took to telling me, "Let's find out." He'd take me to his encyclopedia set and we'd find the answer together.

But, always, he snuggled me to sleep after loving me tenderly, telling me that he loved me.

I didn't care about how "wrong" it was. I loved him dearly, deeply, and completely.

It was almost spring. My thirteenth birthday had come and gone. I got a new bike from my folks and another round of blissful love from the guys.

Dwayne had become more distant during the ride to and from our parties.

I didn't understand why until he told me that he met a woman. He wasn't sure if he'd be coming to them anymore.

Without him, I had no way to get there. Ernie had said that it was best if my folks didn't know who he was and explained the danger of it. I agreed, not wanting anything bad to ever happen to him.

So, it was inevitable.

The weekend came.

Dwayne told me in no uncertain terms that it would be the last time. My last time.

When we got there, he didn't even get out of the car.

"Go ahead," he said. "I'll be back for you Sunday morning."

With a heavy heart, and eyes filled with tears, I went inside.

I got some happiness when I went in. There wouldn't be anyone else there that weekend.

Ernie sat me on his lap, hugging and kissing my tears away, and told me, "This weekend's just for me and my most special little guy."

We talked when it was time to talk. We kissed each other endlessly. He told me over and over that he loved me, and he proved it each and every time he kissed me or held me or tenderly fucked me.

He was a machine. He could get going with almost no rest and could go for the longest time. I loved every second.

Saturday evening came (all too quickly). We were recuperating from another love-making session, cuddled on the love seat and watching "the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", the one with Archie Moore and Tony Randall. I remember because I asked if Ernie thought Huck had been smart enough to get Jim to fuck him. Ernie had laughed so long and loud that my entire body felt warm. "I don't know," he told me. "I don't know."

Then, as the sun went down and our last night together began, he kissed me, long and hard.

"I want you to know that I've never loved anyone the way I love you," he told me with tender honesty.

I kissed him hard, telling him the same, and ending my statement with, "Go as long as you can tonight, and don't worry about hurting me. I need you to."

When I say that he was a machine, I'm not kidding.

It was one, long session from that moment on. There was love-making in there, but for the most part, he gave me what I asked for. He fucked me.

He fucked me on the love seat. He fucked me on the bean bag. He fucked me on the floor. He fucked me on the stairs. He fucked me standing up with me pinned against the wall. He fucked me in the bunkroom, with me looking out the window at the traffic passing on the street. He fucked me on the kitchen counter after we had dinner. He fucked me in the bath tub. He fucked me from behind. He fucked me face-to-face. He fucked me from above. He fucked me from below. He fucked me slow and gentle. He fucked me hard and strong. He fucked me like he loved me. He fucked me like an animal. He fucked me like his lover. He fucked me like his whore. He fucked me and fucked me and fucked me some more.

And when we snuggled into his bed at the end of the night, he fucked me again, letting me watch his face as he did so, kissing me over and over, loving me totally and deeply.

As I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, I knew that I would never feel that way again.

In the morning, he asked how I wanted to spend our last few hours together. My answer should have come as no surprise.

That was the most beastly fuck of my life (even to this day).

Laid back on the bean bag, I spread my legs and held them back and he pounded me. We actually flattened the bean bag out. He slammed me with every ounce of energy and force that he could. When he came, he was squeezing me so tight that I could hardly breathe, but I didn't care. If I had to die then and there I would have done so happily.

He drove his sweet cock deep into me and erupted like a volcano. After his orgasm, he kept at it. SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP. Still clutching me in a fierce grip, he just kept at it. I was balled up beneath him, feeling his probe hitting my insides with gusto and force. That massive cock was driving into my ass with more force than he had ever fucked me before, and I loved it so much. I came again as he fucked me. I never wanted it to end.

But, as with all wonderful things in life, it ended.

Our Farewell kiss was long and tearful (even he was weeping). Dwayne waited patiently until I was finally able to rip myself from that beautiful, beautiful man.

And then he was gone from me.

Dwayne told my parents that I was "going to be just fine". I had grown a lot and there were other boys that needed him.

When my mother caught me weeping, she thought it was due to some sense of abandonment or rejection and tried to console me. How could I tell her? How could I tell her that I missed Ernie? That I missed his kisses and the way he made me feel like there was no one else on the planet when I was in his arms? That I missed feeling his tongue in my mouth and his magnificent, monster cock buried deep up my ass? That nobody had taught me more about the world and life and the purest love in existence? How could I tell my mother that I wanted, more than anything else on Earth to have him fuck her little boy up the ass one more, long, delicious, animalistic time?

But, life went on. Whether I liked it or not, the planet kept on spinning. The sun rose and set. Days passed and months as well. Spring became summer.

I was able to make a few friends and yes, I eventually got Chrissie out of her clothes and took her cherry. We went out for a few months, but we both moved on.

And I grew up.

My Dad died of cancer when I was a senior in high school, so I was left to discover manhood without him. My memories of what Ernie taught me helped a lot.

It was a couple years before I found another man willing to fuck me, but it wasn't the same. It was just sex.

But, that was good enough. And there were a few of them over the years that followed.

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 10: Dream Boy 10


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