Thanks, guys, for reading my stories. There is plenty of good, hot writing to be had on this site. Please donate to nifty.org. We readers and writers help keep it a thriving site with donations large and small. Here's the link.
https://donate.nifty.org/
Forced Reenactment Part 3
By Dudley Jarvis-North
It was the day after Dennis Burke and Joey Benotti had bullied me into the basement of Dennis's apartment building where I was forced to service them. After they had gotten off and were letting me leave, Joey -- the hard-ass of the two -- warned me to be back at 9 the next night or they would "hunt me down."
One day later I pondered my situation. If I didn't show up, would they knock on my door, arousing my parents' curiosity? Would they threaten me, forcing me to join them? Would they even be so bold as to tell my parents that I was the neighborhood queer?
It was a lot to process and I was conflicted. While I feared them and resented their gall, I was also turned on by the sexual acts, even as I wondered if they would brag about the encounter to my friends and classmates, outing me as a cocksucker. Which led me to a reverie born from the highlights of that evening.
Dennis had been the star of my masturbatory fantasies since the day I had blown him five years earlier in this same basement when we were 13. He had dropped me as a friend after that, unable to handle Irish shame and/or Catholic guilt. To find myself on my knees releasing his penis from his BVDs was a fantasy come to life made hotter because in the time that had elapsed since I had sucked him off, his dick had grown considerably from its thin 4 inches to 7 fat inches of circumcised delight.
As an Italian boy, I sexually preferred my Irish opposites, and Dennis checked all my boxes with his twinkling blue eyes, freckles, handsome all-American-boy face, reddish-brown hair and luminous white skin on his toned lanky body. Unlike Joey, he was good-natured and laughed easily. He was one part handsome, one part goofy and all parts delectable, with ears that stuck out but not as far, say, as Michael Phelps's. He had a certain swagger, but not in any way overbearing.
Then there was Joey, the full-of-himself Italian who had pushed my head into Dennis's crotch demanding that I give his pal my best blow job. I needed no convincing. I lusted after Dennis -- the nice boy to Joey's bad guy. Still an ounce of pride demanded that I pretend reluctance as Joey pushed me to my knees in front of Dennis and demanded a reenactment of that episode five years earlier.
I whined spuriously, "Cut it out, guys," as I landed on the dirty floor. "I need to go home. I have homework to do." Which impressed them not at all, with Joey taking a shot at my schoolboy nerdiness.
Joey, the obvious leader, wanted his pal to get off first. I watched intently as Dennis shucked his flannel shirt and T-shirt. Light brown hair was sprinkled on his chest. Otherwise, he was smooth, including his arms and stomach. I imagined his legs and butt were only lightly hairy, but when I lowered his Levis and pulled down his briefs -- wow -- Dennis had a full and lush bush of pubic hair, a blond, brown and reddish pelt, lovely as it framed his long pink cock. Who would have guessed?
Five years later, Dennis had a man's dick -- 7 inches of straight, hard splendor, topped by a perfect mushroom cap that was a good deal wider than the shaft. My pretense at reluctance evaporated with his dick inches from my mouth. Without prompting, I hungrily wrapped my lips around the meaty head and took most of it in one gulp.
Both guys expressed shock at my voraciousness, my willingness to have at it, with Joey unable to resist expressing an opinion.
"I knew all along you were a cocksucker, Petey," he smirked. I've seen the way you ogle Dennis, how you check out his crotch, how you lick your lips."
Then it became all about him. I'm no fool, ya know; I'm pretty good at scoping out these things. I can spot a queer a mile away. Tell me I'm right."
He was right, but I ignored him, continuing to work on Dennis, which got me a whack on the back of the head.
Joey issued a warning. "Petey, your mouth had better be as eager for me as it is for him or I'll kick your ass."
Dennis stared down at me gobbling on his dick with a smirk on his face as if to say "He's right, ya know. You ARE a cocksucker," but, unlike Joey, he didn't lord it over me.
If these guys thought I was some kind of virgin being forced to give them blowjobs, they were mistaken. I had earned my bones in the last row of the balcony at the Strand Theater in Boston, where I had pleasured a number of frustrated married guys in the darkness. I knew what I was doing, and Dennis had me at the top of my game.
Standing over me as I gripped his ass for leverage, the Irish stud let me do all the work, bobbing up and down, lathering his penis with my tongue, stopping only to lick his hairless balls as he moaned under his breath, his precum seeping out and tasty. His lithe body moved sensually to my ministrations as his legs, encased by tight Levis, swayed back and forth. He was experiencing ecstasy. I was sure that he had never gotten a blowjob close in expertise to the one he was getting from me. After five minutes of pleasure, he shot a delicious helping of sweet Irish cream into my mouth as he bucked back and forth and held my head in place.
His cum was sweeter, more copious than the loads I had taken at the movie theater. I wanted to bask in Dennis's gift, let him soften in my mouth as I cleaned his cock, but Joey wouldn't let me savor the moment. He pulled me by the ear, landing me on my knees in front of him.
Joey's bullying irritated me, but I needed to see what he had hiding under his tight clothing. He was Dennis's opposite -- swarthy, meatier, with black eyes and hair like the `50s Elvis Presley's. Scruff worthy of Nixon informed his square face. He was 6 feet tall and 180 pounds of muscle, including his underused brain. Despite being a dickwad, he was an undeniable hunk. Why does it seem to happen that way?
Joey shed his leather jacket and white T-shirt to uncover a mat of black chest hair that led to a treasure trail heading into his Levis. He had pronounced pectoral muscles, big dark nipples and hairy arms. Even his hands were hairy. He was ruggedly handsome in a young Marlon Brando sort of way. When I looked up and saw his package, his annoying personality was forgotten.
He brayed at me impatiently, "Get to it, Petey, unbuckle my belt, pull my pants down. What's the holdup?" I had been on my knees for all of 15 seconds.
Unbuttoning his fly I shimmied his jeans down to his knees, his hand needlessly pushing down on the top of my head, needless because I was going nowhere with his crotch in my face. I was met by a pair of Hanes white briefs hugging his 34-inch waist -- Dennis's more slender waist was likely a 30.
I spied the black and red lines running through the elastic band that announced the popular working-class brand. I had seen those stripes many times in the locker room during physical ed class at Boston Tech High School as I peeked at the boys sliding their Hanes tightey-whiteys on or off.
Joey's were not completely white, a tinge of gray prevailed after too much wear and too many washings. He roughly tugged my face into his undies and I caught the unmistakable scent of piss and sweat.
"Smell Joey's undies," he ordered me. "Lick them and get them wet. You'll love Joey's scent, you little perv." He was such a charmer. I wondered if he was this nasty and verbal with his female conquests.
His briefs stank from a couple of weeks of scummy buildup, which prompted me to give him lip just to show that I wasn't a complete wimp.
"Jeezus, Joey, do you ever change your fucking shorts - they're reallystinky, ya know?" That earned me a slap on the face and a "fuck you" as Dennis laughed. "He's got you pegged, Benotti. Your undies are pretty rank. I can smell them from here." Joey gave him the finger.
Joey's dirty briefs actually amped up my lust. His stink was all him, devoid of soap or laundry detergent.
"That's enough of that, you sniffing fool," he snapped. "Lose my briefs and get to the meat."
When I tugged them down, there was another delight awaiting me: a fat, juicy, uncircumcised dick -- not overly long, but beer-can thick. The foreskin hugged a meaty crown, the pucker a half-inch beyond the shaft. Joey was a dickhead for sure, but after pulling back his skin and savoring his ripeness I no longer cared.
Unlike Dennis's fragrance-free cut dick, Joey's had a heady aroma that only uncut dicks emit -- piss-flavored, moist, sweaty and, while it was too dark to see, probably laced with pecorino cheese. Since he didn't often wash his underwear, there was no reason to believe he kept his foreskin clean either. I had enjoyed uncut dicks at the Strand Theater, but never anything this fragrant or thick.
Joey immediately picked up that I was hot for his cock, my mouth glued to the unsheathed head. That led predictably to bragging about how great he and his penis were.
"I can see you really love Joey's cock, don't you, Petey? Joey saw your eyes light up when it popped out of his briefs. It's a beauty all right and Joey's the hottest guy in town. Joey's girlfriends can't get enough of his fat one, ya know. I hope you know how lucky you are."
Joey was given to talking about himself in the third person -- a total turnoff -- but how could I not lust after his dripping sexuality?
My reverie over, I'm in my bedroom in real time the day after the forced reenactment. I'm wondering what to do. I had let my studies and trepidation keep me from heading to Dennis's basement at the prescribed hour. Nor did they "hunt me down." There was no knock at the door, no invitation to Dennis's basement, nothing. I should have been relieved, but I felt empty, that I had missed out on another fabulous sexual adventure.
Had they forgotten all about me? Were they feeding their dicks to the teen girls who drooled over them. That was bound to be a letdown after they had sampled my superior oral skills. It occurred to me that I could sit on my front steps in case they walked by. I rejected that idea as seeming too desperate.
It's a few days later -- Thursday -- a week after they had had their way with me or was it me having my way with them? If they had any brains, they would remember that I headed home from Christian Doctrine class at about that time on that day.
I didn't expect to see them. Many days had gone by and -- let's face it -- what is the attention span of an 18-year-old male?
It turns out that I was too faithless. There they were standing in front of Dennis's apartment building waiting for me. Dennis was holding a large bag from Sonego's package store.
"That must be the beer Joey had mentioned a week earlier," I thought to myself. Then the reality hit me.
Last week, after eating Joey's cum, Dennis went outside for a cigarette. Joey had kept me on my knees with his soft dick still in my mouth. As I tried to rise, he used both hands to hold me down. I wasn't going anywhere.
"I need to take a piss," he announced. I couldn't imagine why he was sharing that information but helpfully advised,"Dennis's parents were likely asleep upstairs and you can use their bathroom." He stared at me and in a cruel tone of voice said, "I know where that toilet is, dummy, but I want to use this toilet right here. Open your mouth, Petey."
I was flabbergasted realizing what he was planning. I had taken many loads of cum, but never considered a guy urinating in my mouth. After registering my disgust, trying to talk him out of it, he wasn't swayed, ordering me what to do. "Put your lips on my dick gently," he emphasized. "Hold the head lightly as if you were kissing it."
I felt a warm trickle in my mouth that seemed manageable until it turned into a raging flood. He really did have to pee.
While I was grossed out at first, I was surprised by the taste -- tangy, salty, with a flavor I couldn't put my finger on. I liked it. Beyond the taste, the forbiddenness of letting a man's piss stream into my mouth turned me on. How much of a pervert was I really?
"Swallow," Joey demanded, holding my head on his semi-erect penis. Every time he filled my mouth, I let it flow down my throat.
As the days went by, I couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of his pee-juice filling my mouth and how exciting it was. I couldn't get the image of this taboo act out of my head.
When Dennis returned from smoking, he had asked Joey why I was still there. Joey kept Dennis in suspense, not mentioning what we had been doing.
"Petey can leave now," Joey said, "but next time we'll do another reenactment, and we'll drink lots of beer first." And he winked at me.
Dennis had no idea what he was talking about, and although he was carrying two sixpacks of beer, he would never have guessed what was about to go down.
One week later, Joey was pushing me down the alley and through the door leading to the basement with Dennis following. We sat in the former musty clubhouse that Dennis and I had fashioned five years earlier. I sat next to Dennis on the ratty sofa we had pulled from the trash. Joey sat across from us on a bench.
I heard the sound of Budweiser cans being opened.
After the guys drank four beers each, not offering me even a sip, Joey stood and rubbed his crotch.
"Petey not only sucks dick and swallows cum, ya know, he'll do something else," he informed Dennis. "Something really nasty. Do you want to see what it is?" Joey was making it sound as if drinking his piss was my idea.
Dennis's face looked puzzled. "What more does he do? Tell me."
"Over here, Petey, as Joey pulled his fat pecker out of his jeans. "Let's show him that other thing you do."
I was more than ashamed, not wishing to drink it in front of Dennis. I was afraid he would think me perverted. He might ditch me again if he knew that dirty secret. I wanted to suck his cock again on a regular basis, not be exiled for something Joey made me do.
There was another part of my dilemma: I really wanted to drink Dennid's piss, to measure his flavor next to Joey's. But the only way that was going to happen was for me to drink Joey's first.
(to be continued)
Other stories I've posted on nifty are in Encounters: The Bass Player, The Pact (both Sept. 13, 2017), James (Jan. 26, 2018), At the Underwear Rack (2 parts), April 23 2019). Aleksandr (Aug. 19 and 21, 2020). In Urination there are Drink It (2 parts, Sept. 24, 2018) and Lesson at Rock River (Nov. 6, 2018); In Adult Youth, Aaron's Basement (Jan. 12, 2018); In Authoritarian, Taken in the Woods (May 28, 2018); The Punishment that Wasn't (Feb. 9, April 2, 2020); Shane the Barber (Aug. 11, 2021; In Camping, the 4-part Camping with Josh (Sept. 24, 2018); in High School -- William the Great (3 parts, Jan, 16, 2019) and in Incest, How Did My Bro know (March 16 2020) and Greek Reunion (July 17 1921)
Be glad to hear from you if these stories excite you.
doctordestiny@comcast.net