Never Say Never

Published on May 10, 2003

Gay

Over the next two weeks, Georgie and I were together only on Sundays. He claimed to have a steady date with a guy all day Saturday and had to go alone. I scored with four johns the first Saturday but only earned fifteen dollars. I didn't like the looks of the first and last. The first, who took me to the Holiday Inn, wanted me to blow him but his cock had scabs on it so I said I didn't do that. The second was a nice enough guy in an army surplus parka with a fourth floor walk up apartment on West Eighty-Eighth Street. I sucked him for five. The third had a van parked by the waterfront. We sixty-nined in our coats under a blanket on an air filled mattress that squeaked every time our bare butts moved on it. The fourth, a real dirtball, paid our way into a movie theater and did me in a lavatory stall with my pants around my knees. He sucked for nearly twenty minutes but with the stink of urine and the man drooling into my pants, I couldn't get off. I had to stay and watch half a cowboy movie to let my pants dry so people wouldn't think I pissed myself. The West Eighty-Eighth Street john made a date with me for the following Saturday.

Sunday, Georgie and I made fifteen each with an older man from Connecticut who took us to the Holiday Inn where he watched our show then paid for a second presentation. He wasn't able to cum by himself so I tried to suck him off. His cock kept going soft so after about ten minutes of trying, we gave up. Afterward, he took us to a German restaurant and spent nearly twenty dollars more on dinner and dessert. We were too full after that to think about another score so went to the movies.

The next Saturday I started out in the Port Authority Bus Terminal. It was freezing outside and I and wanted to revisit the knife collection in a cutlery store on the main concourse. They had a huge Swiss penknife display with a motor that opened and closed it. I wanted a stiletto in the window. It cost $26.95. I had that much and more in my stash but knew they wouldn't sell it to a kid. I was trying to think of someone I could pay to buy it for me when a man in a long black overcoat walked up. He was short, pale and had a five o'clock shadow.

`You like knives?'

`Uh huh.'

`My employer has a huge collection of knives and swords, some over a thousand years old. I'll bet you'd like to see that.' He told of curved razor sharp knives with gems and swords that required two hands to pick up. He suggested I might be able to see it.

First customer, I thought, but I would have liked to see such a collection, if it existed. "Where is it?'

`Oh, the collection's at his house in Connecticut. We'd have to make an appointment with such a busy man. Why don't we go and have something to eat at my place and I'll see if I can find some pictures. My coach is outside.'

Coach, I thought. You had to have horses to pull one of them. `You gotta coach?'

`It belongs to my employer but I use it for errands. It's old but a very good car.'

He looked harmless enough. `Where do you live?'

`About a dozen blocks from here. We can be there in a few minutes then I'll bring you back here, or take you home if you like.'

His `home' was the Sloan House YMCA where a john took Georgie and me during the Christmas holidays. When we got to his room, another younger man was inside. I stayed near the door. After a brief greeting and something about going to the store, the other man left us alone. I was relieved.

The john started going through the dresser drawers claiming to be searching for pictures of his `employer's bladed weapons collection' but couldn't seem to find any.

You're certainly a healthy boy. How old are you?'

`Eleven.'

`Then you are getting ready to enter adolescence when there will be a great many changes in your body.' He went on about glands and ducts and tubes and then exercising certain body parts so they would grow large and perform well. None of it made any sense to me. I hoped this guy was a five- dollar trick so all this time would be worth it.

`Let me feel your hips to see if you've started growing yet.

I walked close enough for him to grip and feel my hips, thighs and ass.

`It's hard to tell like this. Let me open your trousers so I can tell if you've started growing.'

He slowly and deliberately undid my belt, unzipped my fly, and slipped the catch that opened my pants. They dropped to my knees. I had on underpants because of the cold but wished I hadn't so things could move along faster. He felt the same places again but his eyes were on my crotch. I noticed he was going bald on the back of his head.

`Have your testicles started to grow?'

`Not yet,' I answered but wanted to say hurry up.

He carefully pulled back the front of my briefs. `Oh, I think they will soon. I hope you're exercising your penis so it will grow straight and not crooked. If it grows crooked, the tube inside can get pinched and the seminal fluid can't get out properly. Let me show you.'

He slid down my underpants and started pulling gently on my cock. That would usually get me hard right away but with all this bullshit, I was not even close to being horny. After a couple of fruitless minutes, he went to the dresser and came back with a jar of Vaseline.

`This will help your penis grow and afterward I'll give you a couple of dollars to buy some of your own.'

`I don't want none of that shit on me. Why don't you just blow me?'

He looked up with a blank stare then smiled, `Oh, okay.'

It still took a long time to get me hard and almost twenty minutes for me to get off. Part of the reason was he kept stopping and going on about tubes again. Another was his lousy technique. I had to guide his head and tell him to suck instead of just slobber.

After we finished, he dressed me, took a small black leather purse out of his pocket and carefully pulled out two dollars, which he counted twice into my hand.

`Blow jobs are three dollars, sir.'

`Three dollars? Well.'

`Three dollars,' I repeated firmly.

He slipped out another dollar then went to the door to `see if my friend has returned'. He had and offered to take me wherever I wanted. I asked to be dropped off on Forty- Third Street. It wasn't good for cops to see a kid getting out of a car right on the Square.

On the way, the guy asked if his friend had tried anything with me.

`Nah, we just talked.'

I made my one o'clock date and scored again at four, convincing the last guy to buy me a meal on Eighth Avenue.

Sunday Georgie showed up but said he had another date and would see me in school. I didn't get a chance to tell about the weirdo from the day before.

I looked all over for John, my new friend I hadn't seen in three weeks. He was nowhere to be found. A tall, clear faced teenager about fifteen or sixteen came up beside me as I walked along Forty-Second headed for the warmth of Herman's, my eyes open for a customer.

`Wanna score?' he asked furtively.

No one nearly as young as this kid had ever tried to pick me up. He was clean and reasonably well dressed in jeans, a nice zip up coat and Yankees cap over brushed, collar long light brown hair..

`Whatta ya want?' seemed a safe reply.

`I got this guy who'll pay us thirty for some pictures. He's over there.' He pointed with his chin at a man eating a giant pretzel near the corner of Eighth Avenue. The man raised the pretzel and smiled.

I didn't like the feel of it. `Nah, I'm goin' somewhere.'

`Shit, man, don't worry. He's okay. And we're just going to the Holland. C'mon, man, I need the cash. Thirty bucks each.'

Nobody was going to get hurt or ripped off at the Holland Hotel. It was too close and the hotel staff knew most of us. `What kinda pictures?'

`Easy stuff, kissing, sucking.'

`What's he want the pictures for?'

`Shit, man, beat off, I don't know. I did it before with him. No big deal.'

`No fucking.'

`Not for thirty bucks.'

I agreed. The boy had a key to a fourth floor room that had two strobe lights on stands. We undressed. The teen was thin, had a full grown cock, hairy legs and tattoos on both arms. He was hard coming out of his briefs. I upped my estimate of his age closer to seventeen. The man knocked a few minutes later.

I wanted to see some green. `This kid says thirty, can I see it?' I asked after he introduced himself as Mike and the boy as Craig.

Don't worry,' he said with a toothy smile as he counted three tens off a roll of bills and put them on top of my clothes. I'm one of the good guys.'

He posed me alone standing, sitting and lying in various provocative positions on the bed including close ups of my cock hard. The two flashes nearly blinded me. Then he had me sit on Craig's lap where we kissed and the teenager fondled my cock. He'd eaten a pretzel too. I could taste it on the tongue he poked all around inside my mouth.

We sucked each other individually then in a sixty-nine. Craig was good at it, seemed to be enjoying himself.

`Okay, Ray, lie on the bed with your ass up on top of the pillow.'

`No fucking. I don't do that!' I insisted with as hard a look I could muster.

`He's not going to put it in. We're gonna fake it.'

Craig said, `just between your legs but act like it's in you and feels good.'

I was concerned but obliged. Craig climbed on top of me and nudged my legs open. Mike took a roll of photos from every angle. Craig and I acted out a passionate fuck scene.

While Mike reloaded his camera, Craig turned me on my back and sucked me with my balls in his mouth. It seemed Craig liked boys and got free sex by posing with this photographer. I wondered if he actually got paid too.

`Okay, Ray, let's get some more suck shots and we're through,' said Mike. Craig's gonna pull it out just before he comes and shoot back into your mouth.'

That explained what the thirty was for. The amount had sounded high. Men who wanted to take pictures usually offered ten.

I got on my knees and sucked best I could on six inches of teen cock. He moved his hips a little side to side but avoided fucking. I felt Craig's thigh muscles harden as I worked on him. His peter was hard as stone. As he got close, he rose on his toes and put his hands on my shoulders.

`Move your hands, Craig, can't see,' ordered Mike.

Craig let go and gripped his ass cheeks. His breath became increasingly audible. His cock bloated.

`Now,' he grunted and pulled his penis out. I opened my mouth wide. Craig let go of his ass and cupped my temples in his palms. Sperm fired into my mouth. It kept coming in great spurts that went all over my face, up my nose. I fought the impulse to blow it out. The flashes went off repeatedly. Finally, Craig pushed his cock back into my mouth. I closed on him and blew my nose on his shaft. A final squirt went into the back of my mouth. The taste wasn't as bad as a man's but still nasty. He pulled me with him as he fell on the bed where he wrapped his legs around me as pulses continued up his shaft.

In the shower afterward, he sucked me off and thanked me. `You were the best, Ray. Maybe we can do it again. Where do you live?'

`South Bronx,' I lied. That disappointed him, as I knew it would. White boys didn't dare go up there. This teenager liked little boys but didn't have money to pay for it. If he had been five years younger, it would have been different.

He wanted to meet me somewhere. I told him I'd look out for him on the Square.

I spent two of the thirty on a meal at Tad's then almost turned down a john who took me to the Holiday Inn. It was early yet so I had another protein shake and added six more dollars to my twenty-eight.

In the movie theater I was hustled by a regular who finally offered three to let him do me in the bathroom. I stood on the toilet seat while he sucked me and beat off, shooting his load into the john. He worked so hard on himself that he couldn't get me off.

That week, Mr. Martinson, my teacher, offered to help me with my studies if I'd stay after school a couple of times a week. I was failing most everything again so accepted. He was stout, in his fifties, a long time 212 teacher, and older than the other two male staff members. His round face had two expressions, sincerity and as warm a smile as one can imagine. I never saw him angry with anyone, not even me. He had a great reputation with former students. Although he sent me to detention a few times for fights, he never yelled at me or blamed me for things he wasn't sure I had done. He was the only adult at the school that was kind to me.

'You're as smart as any student here. If you'd apply yourself just a little to your studies, you'd never fail again. If you really worked at it, you could go to college.'

I wasn't sure what college was. My expectation at that time was to drop out the day I turned sixteen, preferably sooner, like all the other ne'er-do-wells in my neighborhood. School was interesting at times but an impediment to making money and doing whatever I liked. Except with Mr. Martinson. He actually had me thinking about personal improvement, not all the time obviously, but it was something I'd never considered before with other teachers.

We worked on my handwriting first. He sat beside me and guided my hand while making circles and continuous up and down lines. Then we read, after a fashion. I had no difficulty pronouncing most words but my vocabulary was limited. Mr. Martinson used a sixth grade reader so there were many words I didn't know and often mispronounced or mis- accented sufficiently that he knew I didn't recognize them. Every word I didn't know had to be printed ten times before the next class. I wasn't sure why all those additional words were necessary but gradually found reading easier and more interesting. I enjoyed our sessions but only did half the homework he gave me, which was more than I normally did.

Thursday afternoon, my sister, Delia, waited outside Mr. Martinson's classroom for me to finish. We walked home together. Delia thought it was great that I would now be getting nineties like Maria and her.

We went to my grandmothers to watch television and have dinner. Delia told grandmother about the nineties that would be on my next report card. Grandmother promised a party with ice cream and cake if I passed fourth grade. The two of them, especially Delia, truly motivated me. I hadn't received a grade over seventy-five except in gym since first grade. Nineties may have been a stretch but I felt certain that I could garner some eighties.

Friday at lunchtime, Georgie told me to meet him early Saturday on Tenth Avenue and Forty-Sixth. We had a good money job. It was another movie, this one with a forty- dollar payoff. There would be another boy. I hoped for a blond beauty like Georgie.

He turned out to be a slim, handsome teenager about fifteen named Sammy who wore overalls, a jean style I'd never seen anywhere but in pictures of farmers. I loved the looseness and the possibility of slipping my hands right down to my crotch. The side slits, fastened with a single button, gave occasional glimpses of shirt below the beltline. Had the shirt been shorter, underwear, if he were wearing any, would have peeked out as he walked. The overalls were sufficient a turn on that sucking whatever was gliding between his legs was okay with me.

I determined to buy myself a pair. They had to feel great with no underwear.

The three of us were driven by the same man in the same van as before to a fancy second floor apartment on Twenty something Street on the East Side, thick wall to wall carpet, lots of heavy furniture, pictures on all the walls. Four large, empty suitcases were on the entry hall floor. There were photographic lights on stands and taped to walls in the living room, hallway, bathroom and bedroom. The camera, bigger than the one used in the last movie and with a huge lens, was mounted on a sturdy looking wooden tripod. A shorter camera stand was behind it. A second man wearing a Yankees cap was there to operate the lights and help the cameraman. It smelled professional to me.

I whispered to Georgie. 'Look at all this shit. This guy's a pro. They gotta be selling this shit.'

'I tole you I been in these before an' I ain't never heard nothin' about it after. It's just some rich guy like he says. So don' worry yerself.'

I worried.

The cameraman reminded us that his name was Matt and laid out the first part of the story that was more complicated than the last. Georgie and I were two friends watching a pornographic 8-millimeter movie in our living room when Sammy knocks on the door. We let him in and return to the sofa. Sammy gets excited and starts jacking off. Georgie follows suit and nudges me to join the fun. Sammy wants to get blown. Georgie refuses and tells me I've got to do it, threatening me with a fist. Sammy shows a dollar and I agree. He pulls his pants off and I suck.

That was most of the living room part. It went off smoothly. Sammy had a decent sized dong on him, not so fat but nearly six inches hard, with a foreskin that easily slipped back to expose a slick, pointed head.. It had a muscular look to it and stuck out and up at a nearly perfect forty-five degree angle. I couldn't take it all so they had me go up and down the sides and suck on his still hairless balls. Then, while I was concentrating on Sammy, Georgie did a quick striptease and sneaked up behind me. Sammy grabbed my shoulders. Georgie wrestled my pants down to my knees, spit on his dick and rammed it inside me. I was coached to react like it hurt so I grimaced much as I could with my mouth full of Sammy. I wanted to reach back and feel Georgie's flesh while he banged away. It was very erotic.

The camera caught Sammy watching Georgie enjoy himself. Sammy pushed Georgie off me, lifted me by the waist and instructed Georgie to pull off my shoes and clothes. Then he had Georgie hold me while he stripped down. Sammy had a perfectly formed body, lightly but tightly muscled, and soft black puff of pubic hair at the base of his absolutely straight cock. I liked what I saw but, of course, I was enamored with Georgie and enjoyed the feigned struggle that allowed me to grab and push on his arms and body.

Sammy picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, holding my arms tightly while Georgie took my feet. Matt, camera on his shoulder was backed ahead of us by his assistant into the bathroom. Sammy climbed into the bathtub and turned on the shower. He told Georgie to sit at the far end where I was to fellate him. At this point, I realized that I was probably about to get fucked with the biggest thing ever to pass through my pucker. Georgie held my head by the hair, my face in his crotch. I pulled loose.

That thing', I argued pointing at Georgie's dick, was just up my ass. He's gotta wash it first.'

Matt agreed. Everybody watched as I washed it off, lovingly and slowly, oblivious to the four sets of eyes observing my abnormal interest. Georgie thought it was funny but stayed hard as a chromed water pipe. While it proved he enjoyed my hand work, I had no doubt he preferred my lips. After a thorough rinsing to get all the soap taste off him, I knelt down in the tub and sucked him into my mouth, up the valley formed by my folded tongue. He tasted clean. I missed the wonderful smell and flavor of boyhood his dick usually had. Teens and men tasted different. Georgie and Kenny tasted great.

Georgie pumped away. With the relaxing hot water splashing over my back, I waited for the pain of Sammy's entry. Sammy took the bar of soap and lathered up his entire groin. The camera followed his hands up and down his trim body. He turned off the water and dropped to his knees. He soaped up my ass like it was his baby, and then stuck a slick index finger inside to the knuckle. I sucked in air through my nose as he poked my prostate. Lifting and lowering his finger, he loosened my hole, gently massaging my special spot deep inside with the tip of his finger. It hurt a little when he stuck it in but, quickly, the feeling improved. I arched my back and spread my cheeks for greater penetration. That's when he slipped his finger out and placed the pointed head of his six inches against my hole. I was hard as a nightstick and about as thick.

Sammy gripped my hips. The cameraman climbed a ladder his assistant had brought in and filmed directly down on my about to be punctured rear end. Sammy pushed forward. This time it hurt. Georgie knew it would because he gripped my curls and held me tight. Sammy held my hips and trapped my legs under his. I didn't struggle but I did suck in Georgie's balls and bite softly down on the whole package. Georgie squirmed. It was his turn to suck in his breath. Sammy didn't stop until his pubic hairs were flattened against my buns. I felt like a baseball bat had been rammed clean up inside me. But there was a pleasure side to the pain. My hole stung from the stretching but inside was another matter. He pressed against something that hurt but my tender spot tingled like it had a small whirring motor that spread pleasure from inside to the end of my peter.

Sammy pulled almost completely out then slowly pushed all the way back in. I was afraid he was breaking something inside me and bit down harder on Georgie's cock and balls. I hoped Sammy would come quickly. It had to feel great inside my tight, hot ass.

`Ease up, Ray. That hurts,' whispered Georgie into my ear.

`My oss huts,' I mumbled best I could with my mouth full.

Thinking about what I had learned from John, I adjusted my hips to allow a less painful passage. Sammy fucked away. I concentrated on Georgie, sucking him hard, trying to make him come. It would have been nice if someone had been doing me.

Hold it,' said Matt, the cameraman. Don't move.' He got down from the ladder. From the corner of my eye, I saw him switch cameras and realized why he hadn't been stopping us every few minutes to reload. He sat on the sink across the room and instructed Sammy to go full into me and turn on the shower. Sammy leaned back so the water cleaned all the soap off the two of us then turned it off again.

`Georgie, dry off Ray.'

Georgie pulled a large, thick green towel off a rack behind him and dried me with one hand, above and below, the other still holding my head on his crotch. Sammy then took the towel, dried himself much as he could with his dick up my ass then wiped down my legs.

The cameraman's helper led him smoothly backward to the door.

`Okay, stay inside him, Sammy. Ray, keep Georgie's dick in your mouth. Now, Sammy and Georgie, slowly, get out of the tub and bring Ray into the bedroom.'

Sammy lifted me by the hips while Georgie took my arms. They stepped simultaneously out of the tub and moved deliberately across the hall into the brightly lit bedroom and its large round bed. Sammy's dong wobbled pleasantly around inside me

`Now, Sammy, turn so you can sit and slide back onto the bed. Stay inside him.'

We moved onto the middle of the bed, settling in the middle with me facing Sammy's knees, impaled on his big cock. Sitting there didn't feel so bad, just invaded. Georgie climbed onto the bed and stood feet apart, tight in front of me so I could continue working on his peter. I couldn't resist the urge to put my arms around him and hold his ass cheeks in my crossed over hands. He hugged my head.

`Ray, lift you knees so I can see your rear better.'

I obeyed, placing my feet on Sammy's thighs.

`Lift him, Georgie'

Georgie put his hands under my arms and raised me, Sammy's cock slipped partially out. I felt something cold and slick where Sammy's dick entered me. He was putting on another lubricant. This was far from over. I braced myself. Georgie lowered me back down. Sammy began fucking. It wasn't so bad. He couldn't get full penetration with me leaning back so it didn't hurt as much. And the new goo they used to grease his cock eased the pain in my hole. After a dozen or so thrusts, we moved again.

As before, Sammy stayed inside me. I had to let to go of Georgie. I turned around like a wheel on Sammy's axle until I faced him.

`Ray, lay forward on him.'

I leaned forward. This was going to hurt. Sammy started fucking. I sat up. The pain was too great.

`That hurts too much. I can't do it like that.'

Sorry, Ray, we won't do it that way any more.' The camera in use for this scene was on the large tripod, staring at me with its enormous single eye. The assistant was changing the film magazine on the other camera. Matt rubbed his chin. Let's try something else. Sammy, when I tell you, pull out and get up. Ray, you lie on your back and put your legs up and all the way back, like you like it now, like you want Sammy to give you some more.' He smiled encouragingly and moved the tripod to match the new positions.

I wasn't sure how this was going to work out. What I did want was Georgie back in my mouth.

I gazed at Sammy, my arms outstretched, the most ardent yearning I could muster on my face. Sammy pushed my legs back and guided his pole into my hole. I tried to relax so it would go in easier. The tip pushed in easily but it hurt as he penetrated deep inside of me, this time deeper than before. I could feel him stretching and moving things within me. The discomfort continued to be somewhat compensated by the good feeling Sammy's cock produced from my special spot, but not a lot. Though I managed to maintain a look of passionate enjoyment on my face, my dick was less the actor and slumped. The cameraman noticed.

`Georgie, I need you to get Ray hard.'

Georgie, the professional, reached in and massaged my dick, which responded immediately.

`Let him do me,' suggested Georgie either because he knew that would keep me hard or because he was horny, or both.

He straddled my face and dropped his crotch down while stretched out on his hands and knees. He fucked my face while Sammy fucked my ass while the cameraman filmed. I wrapped my arms around Georgie as before, massaging his back and ass while my tongue pushed back his foreskin to massage the slick cockhead. I was tempted to lick my finger and stick it up him so he had an idea of what I was going through, and because I really wanted to feel what it was like inside him.

Sammy was getting hot. His head hung close above Georgie's moving butt while he pumped into me again and again. It was really hurting at that point but feeling good too. My cock was staying hard. Sammy rammed in faster and faster, making a slapping sound with each full penetration. I was close to stopping him when I felt the expansion. I hugged Georgie to me hard as I could, halting his fucking of my mouth. Sammy slammed into me and grunted in time with the pulses I clearly felt from my rectum to my colon. Sammy quivered for a few seconds then collapsed on top of us. His cock stayed in until it slipped limply out as Sammy rolled off us.

`Okay, Georgie'

Georgie reached back and gripped my dick in his hand. He looked longingly over his shoulder then, pulling his dick out of my mouth, quickly turned, lay head to crotch with me, pulled us onto our sides, and took my cock into his mouth. I was in heaven! I watched him for a few seconds, his lips clearly working my shaft. I felt his tongue inside.

`Ray, you too, 69.'

I immediately provided my best reciprocation.

`Both of you. Fuck mouths!'

We pumped, gradually falling into synchronization. We were both sweating from the exertion and the heat of the lights. I did everything possible not to get off too soon. But the very idea of Georgie's beautiful lips running up and down my peter was overpowering. I tensed and fired. Georgie buried his head in my crotch and pumped away into my mouth. Seconds later, the bloating, tensing, throbbing. I held him tightly to me. I had found paradise!

'Hold that. Good. A little more. Great, that's it.' Georgie lifted off unceremoniously and sat up. Paradise lost.

We had to pose and re-do a lot of the action for the still photos Matt needed to take.

'Oh man, does he gotta really put it in again? Why can't we just fake it like last time?' I asked when they gave Sammy the grease.

'Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while and Sammy will put it in real slow, won't you Sam?'

Sammy nodded affirmatively.

'And I get to take some pictures too, I demanded without thinking about it. The cameras were neat looking gadgets and the idea of capturing the image of Georgie naked was exciting.

'Sure,' he smiled.

I insisted on doing it as John had. I sat on Sammy's wong, adjusting myself for minimum discomfort and moved downward. It was too soon for Sammy. He dick wasn't hard enough to get inside of me. Georgie tried holding it straight with both hands while I pushed down. We got the head in once but it slithered out as soon as Georgie let go.

It took nearly half an hour for Sammy to recuperate his powers. Meanwhile, they shot close-ups and poses of the three of us individually, then Georgie and I doing our stuff including the sixty-nine. It was paradise revisited.

Once again, I squatted over Sammy's wong and slowly sat down. Sammy had his nightstick back. The head spread my sore pucker. His dick felt cold as it slipped back in. Other than my rectum, there was less discomfort than the first time. When I felt him press against something inside me, I shifted to the left as had John. I could feel it glide up my colon. Sammy pushed in to his soft pubic hairs. His rod actually felt comfortable inside me, almost like it belonged there.

The cameraman shot me lying back on Sammy's chest, Sammy pushed full inside me with both of us appearing deeply passionate, my feet on Sammy's knees, my arms back around his neck. Keeping Sammy deep inside, we slowly rolled over and rose so Sammy was doggie style behind me. Matt shot it almost out, halfway in and buried up to its whiskers. The long cock wobbling back in my colon and against my prostate was turning me on. I started to get hard. Matt flattened us and pushed us over on our sides where he repeated the three depths with my now stiff dick facing the camera. Georgie noticed but didn't say anything. Matt winked.

I tried to think of a way to have Sammy do a slow fuck. Everything that came to mind would have been too obvious, labeled me more of a fag than I was already in Georgie's mind. I felt empty when Sammy pulled out.

The assistant showed me how to hold and focus the camera. 'When you're ready,' he explained, 'you push here.'

I took two pictures of Sammy from the side with his hard dick poking out free and then in his fist. It took Georgie three pictures to get a hard on then he clowned and gave me the finger, flashing his ass hole, something he hadn't done for the cameraman.

'When can I see the pictures?' I asked.

'Never. Everything we do here goes to the man paying for it. He develops it and keeps it. Even I never see it.'

We showered and received our cash rewards, this time without rancor and apparently with me paid in full. Sammy asked if it hurt.

`Fuck yeh it hurt. Shit!'

`You're a tough little kid, Ray.' He mussed my curls.

As we were leaving, Matt surreptitiously pushed a twenty dollar bill into my hand and put his finger to his lips. `You were great,' he said in my ear.

Monday was Valentine's Day. I stopped at a store on Eighth and bought my mother a cheap box of candy, cheap because it was easier to explain a few dollars than ten or fifteen.

When I gave it to her Monday night, she liked it but still asked.

`Thanks, son, but where did you get the money?'

`I got some from Ray and Gramma and a couple of friends. Anyhow, it's a gift, you ain't s'posed to ask.'

She gave me a quick hug and that was that. It figured to keep her off my back for a couple of days.

Next: Chapter 6


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