Haight Street Humpers

By Dave.

Published on Apr 10, 1998

Gay

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Hi all,

Someone posted a request for teens dominating a man, suggesting it might be a nice change of pace from the way they're usually written (MM/t). I agreed with him and wrote this. The story is broken into two parts to make my news reader happy -- be sure to get the second part! It's my first posting, so please be gentle!

Dave.


WARNING - "Danger, Wil Robinson, there is adult content for which you are too

young! That goes for you, too, Penny!" If you are under legal

consensual age in your country/state/municipality or have a problem

sex, especially gay sex, or light bondage, or you are unfortunate

enough to live where such graphic depictions are illegal, then find

something else to read, because this isn't for you.


Haight Street Humpers (part 1 of 2) by Dave.

When I got to San Francisco I hardly knew anyone, much less someone to buy pot from. One day, I decided that the center of the Summer of Love and other counter-culture movements would be a good place to start. What I found when I arrived in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood was a bunch of cute, straight street kids selling good bud.

As I said, just about all the lads are straight, or so I thought; they had girlfriends. One guy, Mike, was really cute and I'd bought from him a few times in the hopes he might be bi, or at least be open to my blowing him. I figured I had a hope since his bags were usually a little light, which I'd told him once. The next time out, I decided to rent a van, just in case, and then added a weekend camping trip. As I'd hoped, Mike spotted me from a distance and made sure he was there to meet me before anyone else. We walked down the block and he was ready to deal. "Well Mike, I don't know," I paused for effect, "like I told you before, I can get bigger bags for the same from most anyone else...," I trailed off.

"Why d'ya keep buyin' from me, then?" Mike was annoyed, partly because I was right and partly because he hated being called on it. "Because you're cute as hell and I'd love to get naked with you."

Surprisingly, Mike wasn't phased at all, "Would that make it worth the price?" "Almost," I replied with equal cool, fighting to hide my elation. "Too bad you don't have a car, man..." Mike shot back, with a smirk, handing me the joint he'd just lit. "Actually, I've got one today, it's just down there," I gestured to the mini-van with tinted windows down the street -- now I had the smirk of a man who'd just called another's bluff. I expected hesitation, but he didn't skip a step as he changed course, heading for the van. Without exchanging another word we passed the joint back and forth, then hopped in the van and climbed in back. Mike surprised me by taking his shirt off as he sat down in the seat. His body was beautiful; slender, defined, sinewy, healthy and pale white. He was about 5'10", 145#, brown hair, hazel eyes and slightly Hispanic looking with angular features -- a real dream!

Again, Mike surprised me by unbuttoning my jeans as I removed my shirt. By the time I sat down, I was in my underwear, boner straining at the flannel of my boxers. This really seemed to turn him on, because when I lowered his baggy skater jeans the band of his jockeys was soaked with precum where his cock was straining to escape, the head peeking out. His mouth clamped down on my dick through my boxers as I my hand slipped under the band of his shorts to carress his engorged member, his trousers already removed. Mike was going wild on my cock and I thought I might cum just from that when he stopped, raised his face up to my mine, brushing our lips together, then whispering in my ear, "is there anything I should know about before we go on?" "No, I've tested negative, don't sleep around much and I'm careful when I do...and you?" "Same here, and I don't use needles, or anything, either." He had seemed healthy and free from hard drugs, but it was a relief anyway. We would still be careful and protect ourselves, but we could enjoy it more now.

Our lips met tenderly and then exploded with passion. Our tongues danced and darted, exploring and playfully wrestling in the warmth of our mouths. I slid my tongue across his face tracing a path to his ear where I paused to nibble, then down his neck to his chest. I licked, sucked, nibbled and kissed his nipples before continuing down across his firm stomach to the patch of hair surrounding the protrusion from his shorts. I licked around his penis without touching it, breathing warmth onto it instead, as I traced his groin, leaving a wet trail in the cotton of his white briefs (which confirmed my supicions; this was not a street urchin but a suburban poseur). As I traced up the left side of his cock for the second time, I bit down on the tube before me, causing him to jump a little. I used the slight arch he'd made to slip his underwear down to his knees as my mouth enveloped the head of his slim uncut 7" and swallowed him to the base with one swift motion.

Mike melted in the seat as I held my breath and kept him deep in my throat, using my swallowing reflex to massage his dick. Once his initial waves of pleasure subsided, I began to bob my head up and down his shaft, pulling off briefly to catch my breath before going down again. His hips began thrusting in time with my sucking. I could tell he was getting close so I started to slow my pace, but he grabbed my head and started fucking faster until he pulled me off and finished with a couple strokes from his hand. He shook as his cock spewed wad after wad of cum across his chest and stomach. I tasted a pearly drop with my tongue and had to fight the urge to lap up all the sweet goo.

After a moment, he smeared the cum around his body, then dropped down and started sucking my cock. I could tell he enjoyed the feel of my cock deep in his throat, for his dick stayed hard. It wasn't the best blow job I'd gotten, but it was clear that this wasn't the first one he'd given, either. The sight of this slender lad sucking my dick with a passion coupled with his eager technique, brought me to the edge quickly. Sensing my impending orgasm, Mike went deep one last time before pulling off and sucking my balls into his mouth and finishing me off with his hand. I trembled as my cum splattered all over my body. A large glob hit him on the face next to the left corner of his lip. His tongue popped out and tasted it, then he brought his face to mine and offered my cum to me. I licked it off, savoring it in my mouth before locking in a long, deep kiss.

We smoked another joint, did the deal, and talked for a bit before he got out. I'd asked him if he wanted to join me on my camping trip the next day, but he wasn't sure. He said to swing by Haight Street, "right here would be fine," at around 10am and he'd let me know then. He asked where we would be going and I told him I hadn't decided yet. He told me he might have some suggestions, even if he didn't come with me.

Haight Street Humpers, continued (part 2 of 2) by Dave.

I was a little nervous about the trip. While I had thought about it before-hand, I hadn't decided to invite him until it came out of my mouth. He was cute and probably cool and safe, but I hardly knew him. At the same time, I was tremendously excited. Had I not been busy with last minute preparations and trying to figure out where to go, that night would have seemed an eternity. I arrived a few minutes after ten and Mike was standing by the curb with a bag and, amazingly, the same space was available. This was amazing because; 1.parking in SF is a nightmare, and 2.this was an incredible spot to park for sex (or anything illicit); there were several large trees with hanging branches and blossoms covering the van from one side and over the top of the other side, while a hedge and low wall blocked pedestrians from crossing for one car length on each side providing access only to that space.

Mike used his bag to motion for me to unlock the side door, which I did with the click of a button as I slid into the space. I looked around when I heard the door slide open and the passenger door open simultaneously. I was startled to see a handful of shaggy waifs and street urchins rush into the back of the van as Mike slid in the front. Looking at Mike but addressing all of the mostly familiar faces, I asked, "What's going on?" I was torn between thoughts of fantasy and terror, feeling a bit uneasy. "Just some friends, can we give them a ride across town on our way?" Mike responded, deflating my apprehension instantly. "Sure, where to?" "Well," spoke up a lad in the back, "like, which way were you headed?" I began to feel uneasy again, I told them about a campground I'd been thinking about in the Sierras. "Do you have reservations?" another asked. "Do I need them?" I really hadn't thought about it, having recently moved here from Wyoming where everyone could go camping at the same time and still never see another soul. They all laughed, stopping occassionally to catch their breath before laughing some more.

Mike suggested driving north a few hours, suggesting there might be a better chance up there. Others disagreed and made their own suggestions. Finally, Steve, a slim, blue-eyed, long-haired blonde (about 6'2" & 140#) said he had a friend taking care of a bitchin' place down the coast a couple hours. "It's got a beach, pool, jacuzi, everything!" I was skeptical, but didn't know what to say. Everyone seemed to think it was a good idea and I got the feeling I was going to be giving them a ride then going on to find a place to camp -- hoping Mike would join me instead of them. All five boys were really hot, but a couple seemed rough, possibly dangerous and not known to me, but things were relaxed, so I drove down Highway One with a full van. Did I mention they were all hot!? Well, they also seemed very straight and I didn't sense any sort of sexual tension; they were just a merry band of adventurers taking advantage of a stranger's offer.

The car was full of lively banter and eventually everyone was introduced. In addition to me, Mike and Steve, were: Joe, a dark complected stud with deep green eyes, short auburn hair, several tattoos & piercings, and a muscular build (about 5'11" & a solid 165#); Simon the black youth had dred-locks, a stern air about him, and stunning medium-dark skin covering his wiry frame (about 5'8", 130#); and, a quiet, typically slim & compact Asian lad they all called Kato (which he seemed to like), his hair parted in the center and eyes as dark as coal. The boys looked to be between 17 and 20, somewhat dirty and slightly smelly, though not as odorous as their appearance predicted.

As the road straightened out from a curve, Joe said/commanded, "turn off here. I've gotta' take a leak." Everyone braced for the maneuver as I leaned on the brakes, then eased up and made a sharp turn off the highway. The asphalt barely lasted long enough for me to slow to a safe speed before we hit the gravel with a bump. The trail wound down to a parking lot a hundred feet from the beach. I parked next to the toilet and everyone took turns pissing. I was last and remained in the toilet for a moment while I stocked my semi-stiff cock thinking of them in here pissing before me. When I got out, they were all hanging around the van smoking cigarettes. They had found the cooler full of food, beer, wine and scotch, having already helped themselves to its contents. I didn't really mind, I was going to offer them some anyway, but it annoyed me that they hadn't even asked, so I said just that. Mike apologized and drew me towards him where he leaned by the open side door, offering me a joint.

As I leaned forward to reach for the joint, Joe, who was behind me, said, "don't apologize to this fuckin' faggot," then pushed me into the van. Mike guided me in, preventing me getting hurt, but was definitely in on the plan. Within seconds, they had me on the floor and the door closed. Joe wheeled the van out of the lot and back onto the highway with a screech, as the others finished binding my ankles and wrists with leather straps. My mouth was gagged and then my eyes covered. It had all happened so fast that I was too stunned to immediately comprehend what was happening, let alone protest or resist.

What the fuck was happening? My mind raced, jumping between how to escape and what had happened and how stupid I'd been. Though no one had been truly menacing and no great force had been used on me, the disturbing image of a switch-blade being flicked during the brief struggle kept flashing in my head. Every time I saw it, my mind returned to the challenge of escape.

They had me on the floor behind the driver's seat and were pinning me down with their feet. They talked and laughed as if I wasn't there. I could hear them opening beers and throwing empties in the back. After a while conversation turned to how they needed to pee and childish pleas of "how much longer" comforted me. Then I felt the gag loosen and a tube was stuck in my mouth -- the thought of drinking urine had never appealed to me, but I figured if I had to in order to survive and escape later, I would. The first drops stung and had a pungent odor, I spit it out and they all laughed. I could feel the van swerving and deduced that Joe was looking back, too. Before I could identify the strangely familiar taste, the tube was shoved further in as the full flow began -- I had to gulp it down or choke. When the flow stopped a few seconds later, I realized it was a couple shots of the Laphroig scotch I'd brought along. Another couple shots were followed by several sloshes of Fosters, then the tube was removed.

They left the gag loose, so I mumbled, "what are you going to do?" Again the boys erupted with laughter. "Well?" I pressed. "Yeah, Joe, what should we do with this faggot?" asked Simon in a menacing tone. "What else? What every faggot deserves," Joe replied and everyone laughed again. "Put him further back and cover him with a blanket or something...oh, and get his wallet," directed Joe. As they moved me back, I the gag tightened and I barely felt the light touch of a skilled hand quickly retrieve my wallet. The van pulled off the highway to the left and then turned right, finally pulling into what I assumed to be a space in the alley. I heard the unmistakable metallic sound of a switch-blade flicking open as Simon lifted my blind-fold to show me the blade. "What's the number," he waved my ATM card in front of me. "Seven two five one, but there's not much in there...I spent most of it on this trip..." The blind-fold was replaced and the knife closed. The door opened, a boy got out, and it closed again. A few minutes later, the boy returned. "Looks like the queer was right, he only had a couple hundred in there," was that Kato? "There's some money available on my Visa card...if I give you the number, will you let me go...?" I mumbled. "What's that, corn-hole?" Simon tugged roughly loosening the gag. I repeated my offer and they busted out laughing again. "How about this, you give us the number and we'll think about it." I gave them the number and again the door opened, a boy left, it closed and he returned. "This is one broke muther-fuckin' faggot," Kato said, "he's only got a hundred available!" They seemed more amused than anything, but I was a little concerned; "didn't I have a few hundred in the bank and on my Visa?," I wondered.

Again, a door opened, "you get it all Mike?" "Sure did, Joe." The van backed up and returned to the highway, turning off again a short distance later. I could feel the van slow and pull into a driveway. I could hear the sound of a garage door opening before the vehicle crept forward. The garage door clunked shut before they opened the doors and pulled me out, half dragging, half carrying me up the steps and into the house. It was dark inside and I was thrown into a corner, gag and blind-fold still in place. I could see a little more light now as someone opened a sliding door. I couldn't tell what they were doing, but it involved clanking, swearing and some bickering. I was not laying on concrete, but it was rough. I shifted my position and caught a splinter.

I was starting to chuckle at the thought of being abducted by the Keystone Kidnapers when I was yanked from the floor and thrown face down on a cold lawn chair. "Think this is funny, homo?" was Steve's taunt. Again, warm hands caught my face, preventing injury, as my chest slammed down onto the lounge. What is going on, I wondered. My still-tied hands had been looped around the chaise and I was being held down from the waist up as someone with cold hands undid my jeans and underwear, pulling them down. Someone sat on my butt and held me down as they undid the ankle-strap to fully remove my pants. My ankles were then tied to the sides of the chair, spreading my ass cheeks a little. Next they tore off my t-shirt and tied my shoulders to the frame. Once I was securely fastened in a humped over position, they flipped it over so I was resting on my back against the cold floor, the chair's legs poking up in the air. The sound of steel flying away from protective sheathing rang again and I felt cold steel against my groin. I tensed and it disappeared only to reappear on the other side before disappearing again. The lounge was again flipped over, picked up and set to rest on something.

"We're going to take your gag off, but only if you keep quiet. There's no one else around, so even if you screamed your faggot head off it wouldn't do any good. The reason we don't want you to yell is that it's totally annoying and it pisses Joe off . . . You don't want to piss Joe off, 'kay?" Mike explained. I grunted my agreement and he removed the gag. "So what the fuck is going on, Mike?" I demanded angrily. "They saw what happened earlier and thought you'd forced me. I explained, but..." "What's going to happen? Didn't they..." "I don't know. Just go with the flow and you might be alright..." "Might be alright? What the fuck..." Mike slapped me, "shut the fuck up! Don't piss Joe off." "What about the blind-fold?" I asked. "It stays on. There's a glass of scotch and a can of beer in front of you -- find the straws with your mouth. Shut up. Drink. It'll make it easier. And don't try to wiggle loose, you'll rock the chaise off the saw-horses and then you'll be fucked up, 'cause I won't be here to catch you."

I heard his steps as he walked out of the room. I lay still for a moment, listening for any sounds I could hear. At a distance I heard the ocean lapping at the beach and, further still, the quiet hum of traffic on the highway. Closer was the sound of running water, a shower maybe? Closer still, I heard muffled conversation, and, was that giggling? Satisfied that I was indeed alone, I concentrated on smell. Aside from the scent of pine coming from the plywood I had been laying on, I could smell the musty concrete. Wiggling my nose, ears and every other muscle I could find on my head, I managed to shift the blind enough to see sawdust on the floor. A little more movement and I could see Mike had not lied; the chair was sitting on four wobbly saw-horses. I sipped some scotch, then some more. I decided to relax a little, yet try to keep my wits about me. I still had no hope of escape and figured a little cooperation might buy me a chance later on -- I sure as hell wasn't in any position to get away right then. Besides, they hadn't hurt me at all so far. After an eternity, I heard voices approaching; it was Joe, Steve and Simon. I could feel them standing nearby as they silently assessed me. I could hear their breathing. Then I thought I could feel the heat of their bodies next to my naked flesh.

They remained silent for a couple minutes before I felt a strap pulled around my waist, binding me to the chair in yet another place. Then the chair was lifted and tilted so it was side-ways and they were carrying it and me like a folding table with its legs withdrawn. We moved a few feet, then the front drooped, the light got brighter and a door slid open. The front picked up again and we went outside. I could make out bushes and concrete and tile, but only in bits. The chair was set down and once again, I was facing the ground. With one swift motion, the blind-fold was removed and my eyes were blinded by the light. When they recovered, I could see I was by a swimming pool in a court-yard. I could look around enough to see the chaise lounge was once again raised off the ground, this time by cinder blocks and much steadier. As I looked around I felt the sting of hot water from a hose hit my back, washing all over my body. Soap was added, lathered and rinsed off with the now cold water flowing from the hose. The gentle breeze brought goose-bumps to my skin but the sun kept me from actually getting cold. Again, the boys just stood there looking at me, though just beyond my field of vision. As with the entire day, I smelled weed in the air, with an occasional puff blown into my face.

Kato and Mike were having an animated conversation which abruptly stopped as they emerged onto the patio. Mike stepped out in front of me; he was completely naked, cock pointing at the sky. Moving forward, he slapped me with his long slim dick. Then Kato appeared next to him, also naked, and slapped my face with his delicious 6" of hard bronze. He then shoved it into my mouth, forcing the big head past my teeth and down my throat and started pumping my mouth hard. As he seemed ready to burst, he pulled back and Steve shoved his seven inches down my waiting throat. I felt a cock in each hand as I heard the sound of spit behind me, then felt slippery fingers jabbing at my asshole. My hands were not big enough to close around the cocks they held -- the one on the left was larger. As the fingers began to probe my ass more seriously, I tightened my sphincter and squirmed, again protesting their taking what I would gladly give them if asked. Joe's voice came from the left, "stop that shit or I'll fuck you dry -- right now!" Mike's words came back to me, "don't piss Joe off," and I knew why. There was no question that I'd be taking Joe's huge prick up my ass, the only choice I had was between taking it now dry, or later, after I'd been loosened up. Steve's balls were slapping the glass and beer can as he fucked my face. The clanking of the ice in sync with the face fucking was hypnotic. Moaning, I bobbed my head, sucking Steve's pistoning cock as best I could. The forceful passion of Steve fucking my face shook the chair and the glass went crashing to the ground. Joe slapped my ass hard, raising a welt, "careful homo," his voice slapped my face from the left.

Steve pulled his throbbing rod from my mouth, trying to hold back, but still shot a huge load all over my face and lips. I swallowed what I could before Simon shoved his long fat slab of black meat into my mouth. He stretched my jaw and made me gag, but Simon pushed on without mercy. Once Simon's fat cock had gone as deep as it could, Kato withdrew his two fingers from my ass and plunged his dick all the way in. He rested for a few seconds before plunging in and out with a fury. His slender shaft and plunger head felt wonderful as he slid in and out, stimulating me wildly. It was then that I realized my dick was swinging free and was rigid as a steel rod. The harder Kato fucked, the closer I was to coming into thin air! Sensing this, Steve pinched my side, leaving a welt and causing me to yelp, thus distracting me from the pleasure and preventing me from climaxing. "Later, queer" was he rasped hoarsely.

As suddenly as he had started, Kato plunged deep inside me and froze, a gasp and a faint trembling the only reminder of the furious motion of a second before. Kato lay on my back for a moment, his cock still twitching inside me, then slowly removed his still pulsing dick from my ass. Mike's cock quickly took it's place, sliding almost completely in before stopping and waiting for me to adjust to the additional length before starting to fuck in earnest. Mike gripped me roughly at first, then pulled almost completely out before deeply burying it again, all at an unhurried pace; it seemed almost like love making.

Simon used a similar rhythm as he shoved his massive cock in and out of my now relaxed mouth. Both lads seemed content to pace themselves and enjoy the ride. So did I, and I learned what see-sawing felt like to a see-saw! Soon, Mike's pace picked up, his body in urgent need of relief. Steve's instinct took over and he hips became a blur of motion. He pounded my ass fiercely, like an animal, using his last stoke to bury his exploding torpedo deeper within me than I'd thought possible. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside me as I tightened my sphincter around his swollen probe. Steve lay still, collapsed on my back. Now and then his cock would pulse as his hips ground into me with a spasm of pleasure. Beginning to relax, I noticed warm lips on my dick. Suddenly, they were replaced by the feel of intense cold and Steve jerked off and out of me in one motion, "c'mon, man! Ya got me fuckin wet!"

Joe continued hosing down my cock and ass with cold water, laughing. "Kato's ready to go again, gotta tighten up the whore a little." Joe's words and tone were intense, almost malevolent. But he moved into my view as he spoke and his expression had a benign, almost soft, quality.

Simon shifted around behind me and Mike offered me a scotch, a joint and some poppers -- I gladly accepted them all as Steve lay below me, warming my cock and balls with his tongue and mouth. Kato hopped up and shoved a cold, wet finger up my ass, held it there a second, pulled it out and replaced it with an icicle. My anus contracted as he twirled the freezing dildo, then pulled it out. Another slender Chinese finger went in, this one much warmer, and flicked rapidly around my prostate before abruptly leaving. Just as quickly as he'd replaced a finger with ice and then another finger, Kato shoved his stiff dick all the way up my ass. He lay there for a moment, allowing me to recover from the forced entry. Then he pushed deeper inside me and sucked air through his teeth, his body tensed in . . . in what? Pain? The stillness lasted no more than ten seconds before Kato began fucking like a madman. His body was flailing as he threw himself all the way forward and all the way back, over and over again. It finally dawned on me; Simon was fucking him silly as he was me. Kato tried bravely to hang on, but ended up cumming after only a couple minutes.

As soon as Kato came, Simon was pulling him off -- he couldn't wait to stick his fat seven incher up my ass. Scared as I was, I looked forward to it. By now, I didn't really care how things turned out; I'd already gone to heaven.

Steve had started sucking me again, and Kato gave me more weed and poppers; I knew they were prepping me for Simon, who was rubbing his huge dick around my ass. He started to press into my hole, then pulled back. Mike took his place and shoved every one of his seven inches deep inside me where he stopped, then, using a side-to-side motion, pulled back out. So far, all they boys had nice cocks that were a lot of fun to take, but I knew Simon's was going to hurt and Joe's I didn't even want to think about -- yet. I was glad to have Steve loosening me up first.

Mike worked my ass like a pro, loosening me up for Simon's huge dick as Kato kept me plied with weed and poppers. I got the feeling they had all done this before. I felt Mike's second climax inside me and found myself loving every second of it, but hoping none of them had any diseases. Before my ass had closed behind Mike's cock, Simon's came a knockin'. By now, Kato had slid underneath and was sucking my cock and rubbing my nipples and balls. An instant before Simon's head stretched me wide, Kato pinched my right nipple and took my full seven inches of cock down his throat, while Mike pushed a vial of poppers under each of my nostrils. The rush was so intense I almost blacked out; the searing pain of Simon's penetration, coupled with the pain on my nipples, lips on my dick and popper high suspended me in Purgatory, dangling between heaven and hell.

Simon fucked like he had behaved; occasionally acting rough but generally betraying a deeply gentle nature. It was as though he caught himself being intimate and punished us both for it with an occasional sharp slap to my ass followed by a half dozen hard thrusts -- much like his earlier conversational style. I was surprised at how well I was taking Simon and how good it felt when my blurry gaze was filled by Joe's uncut monument of a cock; a good eight inches, thick as a beer can, curved slightly up, ending with a nice full head. Joe's chest was well defined and covered with a light fur; the vision of a Greek god. His dick jutted out in front of my face, my hands and shoulders still restraining me from eagerly licking and sucking Adonis himself! The bright flash and click of metal transformed the hand beside his penis into a knife. I watched in fascination as the light glinted off the knife and at how the veins of his huge cock were magnified in reflection on the steel blade.

Joe gave me a wicked grin, then used the knife to cut the leather straps at my hands. Then at my shoulders. Since the moment I'd seen Joe, he'd been very stern, sometimes hostile, at best distant, so I was surprised to see tenderness in his eyes. But that instant disappeared as quickly as it had begun; he pulled me to him and slammed his cock into my mouth, stabbing me with his tremendous spear. I was this hunter's prey and he made sure I knew it as he leaned into me, leaned over and kissed Simon, which sent Simon over the edge. Unlike the other boys who'd plunged deep and laid still, Simon tried to thrust faster and ended up thrashing around like a spaz. It was really funny, and hot -- I just about spewed just from that!

Joe kept his dick in my mouth the whole time, but gave me more opportunities to breath between deep thrusts -- he was distracted by Simon's convulsive kiss, and I was happy for it. After a short while, Simon slid out and, Joe, who was pretty worked up, walked around to take his place. On his way, he cut the other ties, flipped me over and adjusted the chair so we would face each other while he fucked me. I wondered if he would kiss me -- he certainly had it within him, but, so far, he had only treated me like shit. He sensed me tensing up as he pressed his dick to my ass. He put my hand on his chest, moving it around and letting go, then gently stroked my chest, stomach, cock. I relaxed even as he leaned forward and penetrated me. It was incredible. He went slowly, making sure he was lined up while only barely inside me, exhaled into my ear as he bit the lobe, then slid into my ass with one smooth motion. My head arched back and I entered a place I cannot describe. There was pain, but there wasn't. It was highly erotic, yet detached. It lasted an eternity before it allowed me to refocus on the physical plane where I saw Kato getting between Joe's cheeks.

Laying there drunk, stoned, poppered out, getting fucked by a humongously hung hunk had already brought me to a giddy state of Nirvana. When this hot but scrawny Asian (with incredible stamina -- this was his third time!) started to mount the leader of the pack in mid-stride it was all I could take. I laughed my ass off just as they had at me before. To the questioning looks I replied with a gesture towards Kato and a giggle garbled "don't piss Joe off!" After repeating it a second time, everyone joined in the laughter. Joe gave me a smirk, followed by a dirty look and then pounded my ass real hard for a good long time -- he'd been about to cum, but decided that I had to be punished! When Joe finally came, Kato had been replaced by Steve who'd been replaced by Mike who thrust himself deep into Joe's orgasm which spread to me. My deprived cock, still at attention, shot load after load of steaming spunk across Joe's and my chests, sticking in the fine hair on his, like sticky morning dew. Mike slumped down on Joe, who slumped down on me, who was in heaven.

A few minutes later, everyone recovered and piled off of me. With a mixture of relief and melancholy I allowed the parting. Still tired and sore -- wondering if I would ever walk again -- each of the boys came up to me and gave me a tender, sensuous kiss. Mike lingered longest, licking lasciviously lest lust leave lovers languishing, lamenting. I savored his kiss most of all, though Joe's was a victory and thus the sweetest of all. When I sat up, I saw a pile of used condoms by the swimming pool, the semen of the five lads mingling in puddles leaking from the disheveled heap.

Post Script: Mike explained to me that he thought I might like a dangerous fantasy and had suggested it to his pals/fuck-buddies who loved the idea. After all, I wasn't in bad shape, looked good, and wasn't that much older (31) than them. They'd all seen me and wondered. Mike had suspected my lust and gave me shitty bags hoping I'd ask for sex, too. Even though they had tied me up and taken my ATM & Visa cards and PINs, they hadn't used them -- they just took a guess as to the balances. While each of them had fucked me and I couldn't walk right for a week, they had used condoms, as we did throughout the weekend, the rest of which was great. We lounged around the house, pool, jacuzi and beach -- which belonged to Steve's parents who were away for a couple weeks -- and played with each other in the sun, trying every position and combination we could think of.

After that weekend in heaven, we made it a semi-annual event. Over time, new lads & blokes came into the group (Josh, Peter, Billy and Bob) while others moved to other cities and scenes (Kato to Hong Kong, Steve to Hawaii where he died surfing, Joe to a career as a porn star in LA). The new initiation ritual they had started with me hasn't changed much; we're still careful not to go too far, be unsafe or break any boundaries, but it's still a roller-coaster ride for one and all, and the weekend celebration is like Independence Day fireworks. Oh, Mike and I are still lovers, ten years later.

Post Post Script: Of course you know that this is a purely fictional account and that, although I might really want this to happen, it hasn't -- if it ever does, I'll let you know. Any similarities to persons, cartoons, caricatures, fauna, flora and objects, animate or inanimate, organic or inorganic, real or imagined, living or dead, are purely coincidental. This original work is copyrighted (c)1998 Dave. and all rights are reserved. For personal, external use only, not to be included with a collection or product for sale without consent of the author.

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