Hello there. Thanks for tuning in again... This chapter has been a LONG time coming, and for that I apologize. I swear I do have plans to finish this series, though I don't know on what timeline. I hope that readers continue to enjoy these characters and the direction of the story. If you have comments or suggestions, don't hesitate to email me at matthew_lake@yahoo.com or AIM me at matthewlake309. In particular, I continue to be thankful to my author-hero Dave for his ongoing writing support. And I'd like to acknowledge two of my favorite readers, Jacob and Jared, who will always own a piece of my heart.
Previously, in Intolerable Cruelty...
And then he was pulling me back up by my forehead. Handing me the popcorn, he situated his cock back into his boxers and pulled the cargos up before securing them in place. He looked at me and smiled. "Thanks dude. Great cum, man. I really get off on doing it in kinda public places, you know?" He leaned over and gave me a peck on my upper cheek next to my ear. "You rocked me dude. Seriously." I literally glowed after that, the feel of his lips, one tiny kiss, seared into my tender flesh.
I had never made the connection about Jamie's exhibitionism before, but it wasn't a stretch. The first time I had sucked Jamie had been in a parking lot, just moments after he let me feel him up in the equipment cage of the locker room. I had never really connected the dots, but there was a small pattern of such events, including the blow job I had given him in his own kitchen. As I settled back, the remnants of his load on my lips and tongue, I was happy to feel that he kept his arm across my shoulders for the rest of the movie.
I lay in bed Sunday morning still glowing. My date the night before with Jamie was the stuff made of legends. Although I knew Jamie wouldn't call it a date, I had no problem doing so, at least in my mind. My dick was already rock hard, when my fingers curled around the hot stalk of flesh. I began to jack myself dry, figuring on a fast finish before a hot shower. Jacking with my left hand, my right hand roamed across my nuts and below, a finger tracing my crack and lightly touching my hole. The muscle there was still tender, so I moved back to stroking my nuts in time with my cock.
As my hips thrust my cock up into my hand, I imagined Jamie kneeling above me, his cock in my mouth, our eyes locked as he slowly pumped me. I could feel the heat of his thighs resting on my shoulders, his ass just above my chest as I worshipped the center of his manhood. I pulled my right hand to my nose to smell myself, and as the scent filled me, the image of Jamie slipped, flickered, morphed into Anthony. A sneer settled on his lips and I heard him call me a cocksucker, and pull his foreskin back so I could clean his cockhead and give it a proper hello. And then he was telling me to suck his nuts as he dropped them on my lips, my tongue teasing the hairs on his scrotum.
I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on Jamie. His hand on my forehead, brushing the hair out of my eyes as he carefully, slowly teased my lips with his cockhead, my tongue darting out to clean the pre that seeped from his tool. My mind changed channels again, and Anthony was slapping my face with his big bone, telling me to beg for it. I heard my own voice, a moan, a beg, and then Anthony positioning himself forward over my head, dropping his ass onto my mouth with a "tongue my hole first, bitch." I reached my head up to dig deep into the deep, hairy tangle as I tongued his sweet tangy hole, and felt the first volley of jism shoot through my cock, landing on my shoulder, a second and third on my chest and the rest of my load collecting in my navel as the fantasy melted away.
As I regained my breath, and my senses, I was disappointed that it was thoughts of Anthony, and not Jamie that had accompanied my orgasm. I was equally disappointed both of the other times later that day when my thoughts turned to Anthony, and some act of submission to him, just as my load scorched the walls of my cock as it fired from my nuts.
Sunday afternoon found me taking care of some necessary chores at home, and then eating Chinese take-out with my Mom at her insistence. It was early evening by the time I was able to convince her that things were going well with me, that I was finding a balance between class and friends and my commitment to the track team. Even then, she wanted to hear more about my plans for prom, and my friends, and my dating life. All things I had no interest in sharing with her at that moment.
After all, what sort of sordid story could I tell her? I was having sex with my best friend, a straight boy with whom I was in love, but who I was almost certain could never love me back. Just days before, I had spent the night drinking and flirting with his step-brother, Anthony. In an act of jealous revenge, I had allowed myself to be seduced by Anthony, willingly degraded myself for his pleasure, and ultimately found him to be violent and abusive; physical reminders of our encounter were still manifest on my flesh and in my muscles. Now I found myself in a place of deep regret for what I'd done, yet constantly turned on by thoughts of my submission, and ever more entangled in a situation far too dramatic for a high school junior. I was still in love with the perfect boy, and still unexplainably erect every time I thought of his step-brother. Answers were elusive--FUCK, I didn't even know the right questions--and so I told her things were fine, and that I had to go work on a project for school.
It was Monday after school that I found myself riding my bike the last block to Jamie's house. He had told me to meet him there after dinner as we passed between classes, indicating an intention to work out prom details. And I wanted to talk to him about the impending away meet, and the great time we were going to have traveling together, and sharing a hotel room for a full night.
I knew I was a bit early as I stashed my bike beside the garage, and turned to look at the door I had stumbled out of only a few days before, moments after being taken by Anthony, after becoming a receptacle for his load and his fuck, I couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable pressure created in my shorts by my hardon. I thought back to the two times I had jacked my cock today. Combined with the three from the day before, that was five loads I had shot in just 36 hours, and each load had erupted to images of my submission to Anthony. During the last one, I had almost been strong enough to hold the image of Jamie in my mind long enough to fire the first shot, but even as the boiling semen seared out of my nuts, it was Anthony's voice I heard in my ears commanding me, "Cum now, chilito."
Turning away from the garage, I stepped up to the front door, hesitated a moment as I reached for the doorbell, and then pressed, hearing the familiar tones echo within the house. I took a step back and waited, hoping to see Jamie's familiar smile behind the glass. The smile appeared within moments, but on a face just more than twice Jamie's age.
Jamie's dad recognized me immediately as he opened the door to the house. "Hello, Matt," he said waving me in. "That is right, isn't it?" he asked and I shook my head affirmatively.
"Hello, sir, is Jamie home?" I asked taking in the sight of the more mature copy of Jamie standing before me. Slightly larger of frame than Jamie, it was clear that his continuing development would result in the same athletic proportions as his father who stood shirtless before me, a spray of dark hair spattering his upper chest and swirling around his nipples and then tapering to form a trail past his navel and into a pair of Umbros. His shorts were set atop thick thighs and carved calves, his feet encased in a pair of untied Nike crosstrainers. A towel was tossed casually over his left shoulder.
"I just sent James on an errand, Matt, and I was about to put in a few miles on the treadmill." His smile disappeared for a moment as a thought crossed his mind, but returned almost immediately along with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "There's no reason to send you away, though, Matt. Jamie needs more responsible friends like you to help keep him in line." He put his hand on my shoulder in a jovial gesture; his grip was firm and his hand was warm. "You know where Jamie's rooms are, right? You're welcome to go wait for him. He should only be a few minutes."
I smiled, mumbling "Thank you, sir" at various opportune moments. Our eyes locked as his hand lingered, and then he was pushing me toward the stairs. "You need anything? A soda? A beer?" I turned quickly, as he winked and laughed out loud. "Just kidding, Matt. Gotta make sure you kids are listening. I swear half the time no one even realizes I live in this house." His smile was genuine and I returned it.
"No thanks, sir. I'm alright just now." I started towards the stairs and he turned to move back to his study, the room that apparently housed the treadmill.
"Just help yourself if you change your mind. You know your way to the kitchen." he called out as he walked away. As I reached the stairs, I realized maybe I did want a drink, so I made a detour through the hall to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I let my gaze trace the shelves until I found a selection of beverages on the bottom shelf of the door. Settling on a juice box, I made my grab and let the door close, standing upright.
I jumped a bit when I realized that Anthony was standing just on the other side of the door, now face to face with me, a smirk dancing across his features. My mind and my body froze in the presence of Anthony. I was so completely conflicted about him, turned on beyond imagination as I thought about him, but still physically recovering from his brutal grudge fuck the other night. It was like time slowed down as my eyes immediately jumped from his eyes to his package, entirely nondescript in his baggy jeans set low on the waist, my eyes tracing up his torso across the band of his boxers bridging three inches to his dirty wife beater and resting again on his eyes. I felt frozen in place.
"You miss it that much, eh, little one?" he paused; holding my gaze as we both acknowledged the predictable journey my eyes had just made. "Couldn't wait until Wednesday." He smiled then, and raised his hand, twisting my nipple hard and making me grunt before I could take physical control of myself and back away two steps, the top of my ass pressing into the counter behind me. "Little pussy." He laughed. "You following the rules?" He seemed to grow serious quickly, and I didn't know how to respond, except in a way I hoped would avoid punishment.
"Yes, Anthony," I said as my eyes dropped to the ground in front of his worn and dirty boots.
"You haven't come then?" I saw him reach out again, and I instinctually pushed back against the immutable counter, feeling the back of his hand press against my hardness, effectively pinning me against the fixture. I blushed, and he smiled, leaning in to me a bit. In this close proximity, my emotions were everywhere. I was physically intimidated by the difference in our sizes, pinned against a counter with his hand on my hard cock. I felt exposed and incredibly vulnerable. I felt as though I was again betraying Jamie, not by my action, but by my inaction, my inability to stand up to Anthony and tell him to stop this madness. And my inability to move was fueled by my desire, and the pleasure that the back of Anthony's hand was giving me as it barely stroked my cock through the fabric of my shorts and briefs. I wasn't even sure he realized the physical effect he was having on me as he leaned in and the sweaty, musty, manly smell of his day's activity consumed me.
I felt his lips brush my shoulder, moving to my neck. I felt his hot breath on my ear, and my hips moved forward, slightly, slowly, almost imperceptibly grinding my shaft against him. I felt his tongue on my lobe, tracing my ear, and a shiver moved through my body, causing me to writhe against the heat of his frame. I hardly appeared the frightened victim as I moved against him, grinding myself on his hand and shivering against him with lust. His hot breath on my ear again as he whispered, "As hard as you are, little one, I'll assume you've been holding it in." His hand moved up to my nipple as he leaned fully into me, my cock now grinding with abandon into his waist as I felt him take my earlobe into his mouth, sucking slowly, almost passionately. I moaned, I whimpered and I felt his other hand gently cover my mouth. His finger traced my nipple, flicking the tip irregularly. He released my ear long enough to whisper, "Quiet, chilito, unless you want to draw attention." And then I felt his thick lips and hot tongue licking and sucking my neck. I was so close. "You ready?" I barely heard Anthony say between gentle kisses. I nodded my head, and he said. "Cum, little one. Cum for Anthony."
And I did. Even having cum with such incredible frequency in the recent past, I felt buckets of semen tear through my cock and unload in my underwear. My body twisted and spasmed, bucking against the hard surfaces enveloping me. As Anthony stepped back, I had to grip the counter to remain upright, still panting as I caught my breath. My mind was clouded from all the emotion combined with post-orgasmic bliss.
Anthony, though, was all business. "Sadly, little one, I don't have time for more than a slap and tickle today." My eyes regained focus and I heard the refrigerator door open, just in time to see him bend down to grab a bottle of Rolling Rock. "How's your ass?" he asked curtly.
Having just gotten off maybe as intensely as I had ever experienced, I was feeling an affection towards Anthony, even in the context of his previous violence towards me. It seemed that he was interested in my well-being, and in giving me a bit of pleasure, at least. I responded honestly, "It still hurts, but feels a little better today, I guess." My qualification blunted any anger I had intended to convey, and I wasn't sure why I had made it, except that I didn't want to make Anthony feel badly after he had just made me feel so good.
Anthony paused and held my eyes with his. "Good, something to remember me by until Wednesday." I'm not sure what I expected to follow my matter-of-fact statement, but my mind reeled at Anthony's response, and his complete and utter lack of care for the pain he had put me through. "And I will see you Wednesday afternoon," he stressed 'will' with his voice and gaze, and it was as much a threat as a statement. He twisted the cap off his beer and took a swig. His tone shifted back to neutral. "I'm in a hurry and I gotta run, but before I do, I think you owe me a kiss goodbye."
My mind wasn't so clouded that I didn't know what he meant. Clearly referencing his third rule for me, I stepped forward and leaned down towards his midsection. It apparently wasn't good enough. "Do it on your knees," he said as his hand pulled the waistband of his boxers down, revealing his thick dark bush first, and then the shaft of his soft cock. Assuming a kneeling position before him, his privates consumed my field of vision and I was freshly intoxicated by his unique smell.
I leaned in, my tongue extending to guide the dangling tip of his soft, uncut cock to my lips. My hand circled the shaft and I slid the skin of his penis back to expose the sticky red helmet. My lips closed around the head and my tongue swirled gently, kissing and cleaning his sensitive head. I heard and felt him sigh.
"Stop for a minute. Feels so nice. Just hold it in your mouth like that." I felt Anthony's hands on my head, holding me in place, just the first inch of his cock resting gently on my tongue now. Another sigh and I felt his cock swell a second before I felt a warm trickle slowly grow in volume. I wasn't quite able to comprehend that Anthony was taking a piss in my mouth before I was forced to swallow his salty hot brine. And as I swallowed the first mouthful, another replaced it, forcing me to swallow again. Anthony's hands held me firmly in place as I took gulp after gulp of his urine until the flow tapered off and then stopped. Not quite knowing what to do, I just held the tip in my mouth for a moment, waiting for Anthony. He took one hand off my head, and I released his shaft as his hand replaced mine. I felt him squeeze it from the base to the tip, pushing the last drops out of his cock into my mouth.
"Clean me," he said quite simply, and I gave him a few swirls of my tongue as he pulled out, tapping my bottom lip a few times to reinforce this new degrading experience that I had just taken active part in. He rubbed my head almost affectionately, mussing my hair as he pulled his boxers up and adjusted his jeans. "Good bitch," he said and turned away.
As he passed the dishwasher, he stopped and turned. "I'll leave some instructions for you on the bed, Wednesday, just in case you get to my place before I get home. The door will be open. Let yourself in." And then he was gone, and I was still kneeling in the middle of the kitchen floor, not quite sure what had just happened to me.
Juice box in hand, I was making my way to the front door, determined to flee the house, and the scene of my new defilement before Jamie showed up and could smell me reeking of Jamie's piss and my cum and shame. I was in a hurry to be gone, and preoccupied with mentally reliving the last few minutes as I barreled into the entryway, nearly at a run, and plowed right into Jamie's dad. By the beads of sweat running down his chest and stomach into the folds of the towel wrapped around his waist, it appeared he had just completed his run and was headed to the shower.
Jamie's dad, aware of the inevitable collision a few moments before I was, had just enough time to brace himself a bit, and so it was my momentum that pushed him back a step, but bounced me back several feet sending my juice box flying and me to the ground, grasping for anything that might give me support. My fingers found just one thing to grab hold of . . . the towel.
As the stars stopped dancing around my head, I found myself half sitting, looking up at a fully naked, flustered and concerned man. "Are you okay, Matt?" He responded quickly, closing the distance between us in three steps, and kneeling beside me. As if what had happened in the kitchen wasn't enough for one day, I found myself in the naked presence of yet another male member of this family, and I couldn't help but notice that if Jamie were to eventually match his father in cock size, he still had some growing to do beyond his already considerable proportions.
"I'm okay, I think," I stuttered, moving each limb a bit to make sure everything still worked.
"You were really moving, there, fellow," he chuckled, realizing that I wasn't seriously hurt. "I'm not sure what your hurry was," he paused, "I thought you were waiting upstairs for Jamie." Beyond my well being, modesty did not seem to figure in this man's list of concerns, and I began to worry that he would notice me checking him out.
"I, um, I went into the kitchen for a juice box when I thought I heard Jamie pull up," I lied, gesturing in the direction the box had flown, and we both noticed for the first time that it had not survived the crash as intact as I had. Grape juice was flowing out of the box onto the flooring, fingers of liquid feeling their way towards the plush, cream-colored living room carpet.
Jamie's dad grabbed the towel and sort of scrambled over me towards the spill, using its cotton loops to soak up the mess I had made. On his knees with his back to me, I was very aware of the man's amazingly muscled gluts, sweet brown hairs curling out of the crack, teasing my eyes as they beckoned towards and obscured the funky, manly, hidden treasure within. Below his amazing ass, the tangle of hairs continued across his flesh onto his low hangers, and his cut pink cockhead dangled below them between thick hairy thighs. I felt myself grow rigid again, pushing out my underwear and yanking on the pubes and skin that had been cemented to them by my drying cum.
Jamie's dad knelt, turning and then standing at the same time. Holding the ruined towel and juice box in one hand, he extended his other hand to me, taking mine and pulling me to my feet. I kept my eyes firmly focused on his, pointedly not looking at the dick I almost instinctually wanted to inspect more closely.
"I'm so sorry, Sir." I was genuinely mortified, a typical teenager. "about running into you and the floor and the towel and . . ."
He interrupted, "Matt." I stopped talking as his index and middle fingers found my cheek and his thumb tilted my chin up so we were again in eye contact. "No harm; no foul. Everything is fine. Got it?" he said again with the smile and twinkle, his fingers tapping my chin gently as he released me. "Now it doesn't look like Jamie's home yet, and I need to get cleaned up," he said gesturing to his still sweaty nakedness by holding his hands away from his sides to fully expose himself again. He continued, instructive in the way that business people and parents and other decision-makers often are, "I'm going to shower and then order a couple of pizzas. You head upstairs and call your parents and tell them you're eating dinner with us. By the time the pizza gets here, Jamie will be home, and the three of us will eat dinner, watch a movie and have a guy's night. Alright?" he asked, but more to determine if the instructions were clear than to request input.
"Yes, sir." I turned towards the stairs.
"And Matt," he said. "Enough with the, 'sir' stuff. Please call me Wayne." He smiled again.
"Yes, sir . . . I mean, Wayne," I stumbled. I knew that this new form of address would take some getting used to, and apparently Wayne did, too, since he didn't bother to turn around or correct me. I turned though, to watch him walk away, the gentle sway of his back narrowing into powerful cheeks and legs working like graceful pistons.
"I saw your bike outside, dude," Jamie said, striding into the room not ten minutes after my encounter with his dad in the entryway. He pushed the door closed behind him, and it unintentionally slammed shut, eliciting a "shit" as he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor in a singular motion, crossing the room towards me. Sitting and contemplating both my experience with Jamie's step-brother and with his dad, still a bit in shock at the turn of events, I was slow to respond, and Jamie picked up on it immediately. "You seem distracted, dude." He didn't pause for an explanation, though, and grabbed my sleeve and pulled me behind him into his bedroom.
"Long day, I guess," I said, offering nothing else, as I watched Jamie drop his board shorts and boxers together tangling them in his flip-flops and kicking the whole pile into a corner. He spun around and flopped onto the edge of the foot of the bed, reclining for a few moments, arms extended towards his pillows exposing his bushy pits. His familiar nakedness was comforting to me, and I closed the distance between us just to be close to him and the emotional and physical security that he provided for me. When I was with Jamie, I felt better about myself. He liked me for who I was, as much as the "benefits" that my friendship could provide for him. Even though I was the passive partner in our sexual relationship, I never felt dominated by him in the way that I had been with Anthony.
Quite without thinking, I found myself on my knees between Jamie's spread legs, my head gently resting against the smooth skin of his left thigh. Jamie sat upright and smiled. "Dude, I'm glad you're in the mood because I really need some head." His hand entwined my hair, and pulled me towards his soft cock. The recollection of Anthony doing almost the same thing just a short time before flashed through my mind, and I almost pulled away in horror before catching myself. This was a person I desired, a man I wanted to pleasure, a dick I wanted to suck. I pushed out of my head that those three things were also true for me as it related to Anthony, in some sick, twisted, fucked-up way. That was an enigma I could not afford to confront at the moment, and so I moved my lips to Jamie's hardening shaft, sucking licking and kissing the underside from the root to the head and back to his nuts, swirling and licking them gently before enveloping him fully in my mouth.
Jamie again fell back against the bed, moaning as I began to work his meat with a fury, a desire that I had never felt before. Fueled partially by guilt and shame, and equal measures of love and desire, I forced myself down on him time and again, ignoring my gagging as I worked him into my throat. His hands on my head were comforting, and his lust consumed him as he began to match my bobbing with his own thrusts, giving me a face fuck much less brutal than what I deserved for my betrayal, a betrayal he was unaware of, and that I would sacrifice anything to keep from him for fear of losing him.
Jamie was anything but quiet as he picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of my mouth almost with abandon until burying himself deeply within me and holding himself there as he shot again and again. Finally, I pulled off sputtering and choking and coughing as spit and phlem and cum flowed from my mouth and nose. I grabbed a pair of boxers off the floor and quickly wiped myself off as Jamie caught his breath. My throat and lips were a bit raw from the hard, passionate fuck.
Finally, Jamie rolled over, looking me in the eyes. "Dude, that was awesome." He smiled, his father's smile. "I was kind of rough . . . are you okay?" I nodded and mumbled an affirmative. "I'm sorry, Lake. I don't know what got into me. It was like I was an animal, just needing to get off, dude. I've never felt that way before. GOD DAMN it was," he paused, searched for a word, "just awesome." His eyes dropped from mine, and he got an even goofier grin on his face. I wasn't quite sure what it symbolized, but it made me smile, too.
"What?" I asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"It must have been good for you, too, Lake." He clearly shifted his gaze to my crotch. "Look at the cum stain. Sucking me made you shoot in your shorts, dude." He laughed. "Someone likes it a little rough." I smiled, not sure how to respond. I clearly couldn't tell him the truth about how that stain was created. And telling him that what had happened was a bit more physical than I was comfortable with would beg questions about why I had a huge load drying in my shorts. So I just sat back and looked at his near perfect nakedness.
We both heard Wayne calling at the same time. "James, Matt, Pizza's here."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," I said sheepishly. "Your dad ordered pizza for dinner. He invited me to stay." Jamie was up off the bed and throwing on boxers and shorts and a t-shirt before I could regain my own footing.
Jamie laughed, saying, "I hardly gave you time to tell me before I fed you your favorite appetizer." He groped himself obscenely, and I couldn't help but laugh, too, as we walked into his sitting room and out the open door into the hallway, making our way to the kitchen.
If you'd like another installment, please let me know at matthew_lake@yahoo.com or AOL IM me at matthewlake309. It's really motivating to get an email, even if it's just a couple of lines-especially motivating if it's a hot pic. I try to respond to every email, and also keep a list of responsive readers to make notifications of the posting of the next chapter. You can find other stories I've written in the prolific authors section of the nifty archive. Thanks again for reading!