On the Poolboy Payroll

You know how it works. If you're under eighteen or somewhere this sort of filthy isn't welcome, then run, run for the hills.

Everyone else, here's the promised third part of On the Poolboy Payroll. Sorry it's been a while in coming; unfortunately my day-job got in the way these past couple of weeks. Hopefully the finished product proves worth the wait!

I've had some amazing, generous and flattering emails, and I've tried to reply to them all. It's brilliant hearing from readers, and I love knowing which parts of the story you like and how you think it should progress. As ever, you can get in touch at alexp336@gmail.com. Thanks!

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On the Poolboy Payroll - Part Three

Sweat it out, that's what my Dad says. Anger, confusion, no matter what - work up a sweat and you'll either get to an answer or at least tire yourself out until you fall asleep no matter the stress. So it's the cross-trainer for me - 35 minutes and counting - until I figure out where the hell my life has got to, and why I've been more unsettled these past few days than I have the rest of my eighteen years.

It's not working.

Perhaps it's because the gym has a dark side, its own role to play in my self-doubt. After all, it was here Alex found me - recruited me in a sense - and here I returned to shake at his touch. But deep down I know I can't blame any location, even that brutal poolside at Simon's house; all I can blame is myself, my own darker urges, and the weakness inside me that pulls me back for more.

After I'd fled the shower, the phantom tightness that was the memory of Cat's ass around my cock still haunting me, I'd pulled on my clothes and made to leave. Tony had stopped me, his long narrow figure blocking the doorway. He held out an envelope; it was more stuffed than the first time around, obviously Simon had decided the show I put on today was worth more than a simple jerk-off.

"Leaving us so soon?" Alex asked, half-smirking at me.

I blushed, looked down, tried to stuff the envelope into my bag while pulling at my shirt where it stuck to damp skin. He made me uncomfortable, had done from the first time I'd met him.

"Simon says to come back tomorrow" he continued, crossing his arms. I gulped.

"Um... I'm not sure I can..." I muttered, desperately scrabbling for an excuse. "I've got school."

Tony frowned, tutted. "Strange, Alex told me you'd finished with school..."

He was right, I had - and, now that I thought about it, I'd told Alex as such. Guess that excuse was no use to me.

"Look, I'm not sure... I mean, I don't think..."

He fixed me with a stare; I knew he was entirely aware why I was hedging and evasive. Tony sighed.

"Cooper, you're a young guy, you looked like you were having a good time today and I'm pretty sure Cat was having a good time too. Don't get too... hung up on all this stuff." He stepped to one side, clearing the doorway. "The guy you might be tomorrow isn't fucked up by the guy you are today, okay?"

I'd tried to hand the keys back then, break another connection, but he'd refused, waved me away. So I ended up driving the Mini home again, parking halfway down the street and finishing the last on foot.

In fact I was home alone, and I took the opportunity to have another shower. I didn't feel dirty, I wasn't trying to "wash away my sins", but the thrum of falling water always relaxed me - helped quiet some of the anxious thoughts rushing through my head.

Perhaps it was the pinprick feel as the needles of water bounced off my skin, or the white noise echoing off glass and tile. No matter; it worked, that's all I cared about right now. I kicked off my shoes and tugged off my vest, unsnapped my shorts and let them drop to my feet. I'd not bothered with the briefs again after showering at Simon's, instead slipping into my shorts commando.

I couldn't help but look down at my dick, hanging limply, as if to check out whether it had changed after being used to fuck a boy for the first time. Of course, it hadn't - just the same old inches - but I did notice scratch marks around the sides of my torso where Cat had obviously got carried away with me. Nothing serious; the pale red lines reminded me of his clinging to me, as my hips bucked underneath and drove my cock up into his hot tightness.

I felt myself stirring, hurried onward to the shower. I hadn't wanted to relive the experience, though I suppose it being my most significant sexual encounter to-date, it was no surprise that my body felt somewhat differently.

I slept better than I'd expected to, but lying in bed the next morning my stomach had been a knot of anxiety. I'd spent the first few hours listlessly cycling between the kitchen, the TV and the internet, seldom finding anything to maintain my attention for longer than a few minutes. On the face of it, I knew I was under no obligation to go back to Simon's - well, beyond returning the car - but yet the draw there was practically irresistible. Part of me wondered whether it was not wanting to let Alex down, that he was my "gateway drug", but I couldn't deny that, for all the uncertainty and discomfort, I'd also got a whole lot of sexual pleasure out of my two visits.

There were still doubts in my mind just after lunchtime, when I climbed behind the wheel of the Mini. There were doubts as I drove to Simon's house, wind doing the double duty of helping clear my head and messing up my hair like no bed-head styling ever could. And there were doubts - and a painfully hard erection - as I sat in the car in his garage, plucking up the courage to step out and face whatever boundary-stretching, identity-defining event might await me.

Even though by now I knew the way to the pool, Alex still met me halfway down the path as it curved around the stark edge of the building. I couldn't help my half-smile; I'd been wondering what he might be wearing today, reasoning we wouldn't see either the first swimsuit or yesterday's singlet, seeing as how Simon apparently didn't like his boys to repeat themselves.

In fact, he was almost conservative - well, by Alex's standards. A pair of blue jean cut-offs, fraying edges just above his knees, that sagged precariously low under his narrow waist. Only the curve of his hips kept them in place, I could tell, but it was still enough to expose a fair smudge of his tightly razored pubes. A little more bizarrely, he had two stripes of eye black - like a footballer might wear - under his eyes. On anyone else it might look ridiculous, but it somehow simply made him look more boyish and cute.

I'd expected an arm around my shoulder, but Alex kept coming forward and pulled me in with a full-on hug. He was taller than me, and my head rested almost in the crook of his neck as he wrapped me up in his beefy arms.

"Dude, great to see you!"

His enthusiasm was contagious, as ever. I'd wanted to stay a little more distant - a little less keen to lose my pants and my inhibitions - but Alex's charm made that difficult to do.

"Great to squash me, you mean!" I replied, squirming in his tight grip. I could feel his hard chest against my own, only the thin fabric of my t-shirt between us. My hard-on, which had begun to subside, decided it wanted to make itself known again, and I struggled away from Alex as I felt myself stiffen.

He eyed me knowingly, only the briefest glance to crotch level giving him away. Made a light, playful punch to my stomach.

"Coop, yesterday, fuckin' hell man! Hot. As. Fuck."

I was still battling waves of shame, self-doubt and confusion, but Alex's blokey talk somehow made things - the things I'd done - seem normal, natural. As if we were two guys chatting about banging some chick we'd picked up, not how I'd reamed the ass of some Asian teenage boy while Alex pumped spunk across my face.

"Yeah, I guess..."

He gave me a look of exaggerated puzzlement. "You guess?! Dude, when you fucked your load into Cat I almost came twice. Hips a fuckin' blur, man! Super-hot."

I couldn't help it, I grinned.

"Yeah, it did feel pretty awesome." He grinned back at me, took a sudden step closer again so we were mere inches apart. Voice quieter now, more beguiling.

"And then when you wrapped your lips around my dick, and looked up into my eyes... fuck, Coop, you're one hot little dude."

Somehow being called "little" didn't seem to chafe when it came from Alex - quantifiably bigger in just about every way than I was - and I blushed and looked down at my feet.

"I... enjoyed it too."

"Hell yeah you did!" He was back to being boisterous, turning as we began to walk the path again toward the pool house. "Now let's get changed and get out there - busy day!"

This time there was no pre-change examination at the poolside, no terse instructions from Simon to strip down to the basics as his cool eyes raked over me. Instead Alex grabbed my bag from me, dumped it under the bench and immediately began rummaging in the lockers for, I supposed, whatever outfit I was expected to sport today. While I waited I kicked off my shoes, pulled my t-shirt over my head and pushed down my own shorts.

Underneath, I was wearing an old pair of briefs I'd found in the back of my underwear drawer - by now clingingly tight on me - no designer waistband but stretched taut over my ass and dick. The grey fabric was thin and reasonably full-cut. I'd found I liked the more hugging, supportive feel of briefs after the past few years wearing loose, shapeless boxers. I also liked how they made me look in the mirror: emphasising my toned build and visually tightening in my waist, helping give it the swimmer's "V" shape I had been aiming for.

Alex glanced over, winked. By now I was pretty used to standing in front of him almost naked, but I still shifted a little on my feet; less from discomfort than from so obviously being admired by another guy. I purposefully scratched my hip, in the process pushing the waistband of my briefs a half-inch or so lower. Alex rolled his eyes at me; I'd been caught out.

"Show-off... put these on." He tossed me my costume for the day, but where I'd been expecting swimming trunks of some sort, here it was more underwear. In fact, a jock-strap, but not the institutional looking ones we'd been expected to wear during highschool football season. This had a bright red waistband, about an inch or so wide, then a bright white, somewhat stretchy pouch and two narrow, white elastic straps at the back. I instantly knew that it would leave me seriously exposed, the thought sending a shiver of self-consciousness through me.

Still, it wasn't enough pause to stop me from pushing my briefs down, stepping out of them. I kicked them up with my foot - tried to, anyway - but missed the grab; Alex caught them instead, the grey cotton a tangle in his fist. As I bent to step in-between the straps of the jock, I glanced up and saw him push his nose into the front of my discarded briefs, obviously sniffing deeply. I froze in surprise, balanced on one leg with the jock only up to my calves, staring at him.

Winking again, he dropped my underwear onto my rucksack, shrugged. I guessed I wasn't going to get either a smart answer or an explanation, and thinking back - to when I'd wanted to bury my face into his own ball-sweat soaked briefs - I supposed I didn't really need one. Instead I pulled the new jock all the way up, tucking my cock into the pouch, which stretched pleasantly around it, and arranging the straps so that they cut across the smooth, soft curves of my ass.

"Fuckin' A, Coop." Alex obviously approved, checking me out and then stepping to one side with his arm extended, as if ushering me to the door. I moved past him, then let out a sharp yowl as he grabbed one strap of the jock and let it twang against my butt cheek.

"Asshole!" I shouted at him, playing angry, and he put on an equally fake contrite expression.

"Sorry dude, too good a target to resist."

I'd been used to stepping out to an audience of eyes, but today the pool was deserted. I glanced back at Alex for explanation, but he only tapped his wrist as if to say "give it time". He headed for the nearest lounger and I did the same, sat opposite each other where the pool narrowed to steps. Lying back, Alex undid the top button of his cut-offs and settled in, arms crossed above his head; the gape of his shorts left the root of his cock just visible, I saw, before sitting down myself.

At first I stretched my legs out, crossed them at the ankles, sitting almost demurely with my arms around my stomach. Then again, I reasoned, I'm here to show off - that's the job, after all - and so I shifted my arms to my side, exposing my smooth, gently ripped stomach.

Uncrossing my legs, I left one outstretched and pulled the other up, the sole of my foot flat against the lounger. I couldn't see, but I knew it would pull my bulge up, perhaps even flash a little of the soft skin between my balls and my hole, depending on where someone was standing.

I was beginning to think of myself as a sexual being, rather than just a collection of body parts that occasionally needed to jerk off. Not only in terms of my own sexual exploration - though I'd certainly done enough of that around this pool over the past week - but in how someone might look at me. I'd spent so long admiring other guys' physiques and pushing myself to get fit, that I'd forgotten to actually step back and wonder whether other people might be doing the same about me. Simon certainly seemed to approve, and Alex had made it pretty clear that he liked the way I looked; hell, even Cat had been more than attentive when we kissed the previous day.

My thoughts were interrupted by noise from the house, the whoosh as the broad glass door was pushed open. Young guys in waiter uniforms - white shirts, black ties, long black aprons tied around the waist - spread out around the poolside, some taking up station behind the wet bar while others positioned themselves with trays of food. They were followed by a more casual group, laughing and talking among themselves, perhaps eight or ten guys most of whom looked like they could've come out of a Simon photocopier.

I started, glanced over nervously at Alex. He hadn't shifted a muscle, still lying back with his eyes shut and a half-smile on his face. I could see his broad chest rise and fall with each breath, a few pinpricks of sweat visible from the hot sun. The men - I now saw Simon was indeed among them - moved between the food, the bar and the various chairs on offer, generally avoiding even glancing at where I was lying.

I could overhear some of the conversations going on closest to me, and they all sounded pretty dull. I'd never bothered asking what Simon did for a living - just guessed it paid well considering where he lived and how he entertained himself - and even with eavesdropping I wasn't picking up on much. It was obviously more interesting than me, though.

As I frowned, my head tilted slightly to the side as I attempted to pick out at least one word in twenty that I might understand, a voice to my side surprised me.

"Hot day, isn't it."

He was early thirties, perhaps; slim, short dark hair, wire frame glasses and a dark blue shirt. Smiling self-consciously over a straw in a tall glass that looked more ice than anything else. I didn't know quite what to say.

"Air conditioning in there," he nodded at the house. "You never remember quite how hot it is outside. Always a surprise." His eyes, until now fixed on my own, flicked briefly down to my chest. I shifted slightly, suddenly feeling very under-dressed. In the process my hips tilted, swivelling just a little toward him; my leg tipped, and I realised it was almost as though I was opening my crotch to him.

I mentally crossed my fingers that he'd keep his eyes higher than my nipples.

"So..." He was struggling, and I realised I'd have to say something soon or appear rude, and assuming this was a guest of Simon's then that was probably a bad idea.

"Very hot" I mumbled, before finding my voice. "I mean, yes, you're right, it's a hot day." He nodded at me, looking as if I'd said something deeply meaningful and insightful, then sipped from his drink awkwardly.

"Sorry, did you want a drink?" he suddenly asked, perhaps just noticing that he was the only one holding something. I wasn't entirely sure whether I was allowed to drink or not - I mean, I wasn't here for pleasure, this was a job (though I didn't know if this new guy understood that) - and even if I was then it would have to be something soft since I was underage. I decided it was easier just to say no, shaking my head.

"Ah..." He seemed stumped again; maybe I should've said yes, just to put him at his ease. Would that have been the more polite thing to do? "I guess Simon's boys are always on duty, hey?"

I frowned a little, and his smile quickly faded. I guess I was one of "Simon's boys", though I'd not really thought of it that way (or perhaps just not thought of it coming out of someone else's mouth). Looking back, Alex had said that the point of my being there was to decorate the pool, make it look well-used; I hadn't made much of it at the time, but now - knowing Simon was gay, knowing the exact nature of the "decoration" he wanted - things were clicking into place.

"Something like that." I smiled at him, and he looked relieved. His eyes darted down my chest again, just a flick as if nervous about being caught. I'd been wary at first, but something about his almost coy attitude left me feeling surprisingly open; powerful, almost. He was looking at my body, he wanted to look at it more, but he wasn't sure how I'd react.

I reached up, careful to make it look natural and unintentional, gently half-scratched, half-rubbed at my nipple. He snuck a quick look again, then back to my face. My other hand - the arm partially trapped under me as I lay half-rolled toward him on the lounger - grazed against my stomach, running the thumb across the soft, downy skin there. It was an empowering, almost addictive feeling: I was an 18 year old kid, and he could've been some high-level manager of who knows what company, and I was calling the shots just because he wanted to check out my six pack but was afraid to.

I felt my crooked-leg lolling a little more, opening up my crotch to his view, almost daring him to look down. I'd seen enough of the jockstrap to know it would frame my groin well, the bulge of my constrained cock and balls filling it up and causing the whole pouch to jut out considerably. A bead or two of sweat was forming on my pecs, glistening in the early afternoon sun which caught the edge of his glass and twinkled, momentarily dazzling each time.

"You're..." he started, gulped, looked down at his feet and then back up at me, allowing his eyes to quickly graze across the top two-thirds of my body as they met my own again. "You're a very handsome young man."

My head was beginning to swim, not from the heat or even from his attention, just from the feelings of power flooding my brain. I let myself roll backward, flat again on the lounger, lifted one hand above my head and rested my crown on the palm. I knew the sparse patch of hair in my armpit would be damp with sweat, and I wondered if he could smell me, feel the heat radiating off my young body. The other hand - the arm freed now - moved down to gently cup my balls, squeezing and kneading them slowly. The motion pulled his attention down, like I'd known it probably would, and then he was staring - watching as I pulled the stretchy material tight across my plumping cock, outlining it with the white elastane - and I could have pulled tongues, crossed my eyes or bitten off my own nose for all the chance of getting his concentration back on my face.

Instead, I spread my legs a little more, moved my foot from the lounger to the tiles underneath. Tentatively he perched on the edge where my foot had been, still transfixed on where my hand churned my balls. I wondered if he could see the join where the elastic straps met the narrow base of the pouch, whether he could quite see skin behind it. I felt my hips began to lift a little, tilting my pelvis up so as to increase that possibility.

He obviously took it as an invitation; I guess, if I'd been thinking clearly, I could've seen that coming. Instead, the first I knew was his hand on my bulge, palm flat against the curved heft of my nuts, his cool fingers - damp with perspiration from the glass - tracing the hot furrows where my legs joined my groin. I gasped, cock instantly racing to hardness, as his deft fingers squeezed my shaft, fingertips digging slightly under the elastic edges of the pouch and stroking the moist, sensitive skin there.

"God you're hot" he muttered, almost to himself, as if I wasn't supposed to hear him - or that he'd forgotten that, beyond a cock and a set of balls, I even existed. My shaft flexed painfully in the confines of the jock. I could've pushed him away, closed my legs, even sat up from my casual sprawl and pulled myself away from him, but I didn't. The thought didn't even enter my head. I was fixated on his hand and his expression, one of lustful wonder.

"Ha! I see you've found a live one!" The new voice was loud, and noticeably drunker, and we both turned to see another of Simon's guests standing over us. My quiet friend whipped his hand away as if my balls had turned poker-hot. This new man was as expansive as the other was reserved, draining his glass and looking round pointedly for a waiter; one hurried over, another young guy perhaps my own age. He was very pointedly not looking down at where I lay, instead focusing on holding out his tray and the drinks he had shuttled from the bar to the various men who had spread out around the pool. I looked him up and down: very slim body, as far as I could see past the figure-skating apron and close-fitting white shirt, and dark, longish hair, almost emo in cut as his fringe draped down over one eye. He flicked his head nervously a couple of times, shifted the tray to counter the drunk man's less than agile hand movements.

"Don't stop on my account" the new guy continued, waving his drink in our general direction. "We all know what they're here for, these..." He didn't finish - his drink was obviously more interesting, and he was already close to halfway through the fresh glass - but I could guess what he was thinking. Teenage guy, decent body, dressed in next to nothing: had to be easy. And then again, I couldn't entirely argue with him, since I'd been halfway through having my cock felt-up when he'd burst upon us.

As if to make his point, he reached down and pinched my nipple - grabbing the semi-firm nub between his thick fingers and twisting it hard. I yelped, half-leapt from the chair, and he laughed at me. The original guy - who I was beginning to reassess as a whole lot better news than this new, boorish one - looked down at his feet, as if ashamed to be any part of this new scene.

"What the fuck...?!" I shouted, pulling my chest from his grasp, and rubbing where it stung. He frowned at me, loosely waved a finger.

"Now now, kid, watch yourself... Don't make me give you a spanking." He laughed uproariously at his own joke, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was doing so on his own. I felt myself flushing beetroot red. All the shame I'd been feeling over what I'd been doing these past few days, all the uncertainty over whether it was really "me" wanting to kiss boys, touch boys... fuck boys, it all came flooding back.

"You don't touch me" I told him, angry at him, and at myself, and at this whole bizarre situation that found me near-naked in a stranger's house and with strangers' hands on me.

He looked at me, half-smirking and half with pity and disgust. "Oh no?" He snorted, rolled his eyes. "Do you just get fucked, is that it? No kissing, no messing around. Just some one-track rent boy with more muscle than brain."

I could feel myself starting to tear up, despite the hot coal of anger forming in my chest. I wanted to protest, but all the arguments sounded hollow even to me. Just how convincing could I be, some kid in a jockstrap?

He was about to reach out and touch my chest again, and I was about to leap to my feet and make a run for the pool house, when we heard the thump and the squeal. Heads all over jerked around to look at the main building, mine included. Normally the smooth expanses of glass were half-obscured by the bright reflections of the water and sky, the interior only a vague mirage behind the shimmer. Now, though, all eyes were on Cat's lithe form, splayed against the window. His lean body was pressed up to the full-length pane, head turned 90-degrees with his cheek near-flattened on the glass, one arm pinioned just above his unruly hair. Shirtless, he was almost naked in fact - only another micro-bikini swimsuit offering scant coverage across his middle. The taut yellow and green fabric still managed to look vivid despite the tinted glass.

"This is more like it" the drunk guy roared happily, seemingly forgetting me and taking a few absent-minded paces toward the house. I could see a hand wrapped around Cat's raised wrist, but not who it belonged to. The expression on his face was animal - it reminded me of the aggressive lust I'd seen while pumping away at his ass the day before - though I could see a little fear there, or something similar.

A trapped expression, perhaps; fitting, considering he did indeed look trapped against the window.

You couldn't say he was entirely unhappy about the situation, though. As his groin humped against the glass, the rigid length of his boner was obscenely obvious, the stretchy fabric shifting over its girth. I realised my own prick had leapt back to full hardness at the sight of him, after it had wilted during the argument just a few moments ago. Now it strained against the pouch of my jock, pulling the ass straps tight against my cheeks.

Alex's voice surprised me from just over my shoulder, quiet as he eased himself between me and the backrest of the lounger. "That boy sure does love it rough" he whispered to me, his thick legs spreading each side of my ass. "He's going to get fucked - again - up against that glass. They're going to tug down his suit, pull apart those tight little cheeks of his, and someone with a big, wide dick is going to force it into his slick little hole."

Somehow, even after all I'd done - all I'd done with him, with Cat, all I'd seen to now, and imagined and wished for - his dirty talk still got to me, made me light-headed. I'd lived so long in a world locked up in my own brain, hardly daring to have a thought out of place. Spent eighteen years telling myself I was putting off sex, or emotions, or a close attachment - with a girl, or a boy, or anybody - because one day the time would be perfect for it. And in half a week, Alex had shown me that I wasn't saving myself for the right time, I was just wasting myself.

His voice had a direct line to my libido, but his hands were creeping across my stomach, thumbing the ridges of muscle there. As I watched Cat's skin flatten against the window pane, saw fingers tug at his Speedo, Alex's own fingers slipped down my abdomen, twining carefully in my sparse pubes as they poked visible over the bright red waistband of the jock. Then Cat's dick sprang free - an accident, perhaps, given his captor was seemingly only concerned with getting access to his ass - the swollen glans swiping arcs of precum over the glass as he bucked and twisted. Alex's fingers dug under my balls, traced languid circles around my hole, as we watched Cat's leg lift - a hand in the pit of his knee, squeezing the firm flesh of his thigh - baring him, ready to get screwed

Alex pulled my own leg up, across his own, spreading my cheeks a little more and allowing his fingers greater access. I shivered at his touch, leant back - his hot torso against me - as the tip of his finger ground its way into me as it had a few days before. The sweat had worked itself into the crack of my ass, helping lube his entry. Even so, my ring clamped down on him, desperate to tug his digit further into me. At the window, Cat's jaw dropped, his head rocked back; his movements against the glass became rhythmic shudders, and I knew some unknown man was fucking him, pounding their cock into his clinging hole as I'd done just the day before.

I found myself rocking on Alex's finger in time with Cat's hips, driving it deeper. Alex's other hand took hold of my cock - still achingly hard - through my jock, tracing its vein-swollen ridges with his fingertips. Carefully he eased the fabric over me, baring my dick as the pouch pulled to one side and my balls fell free. A few of Simon's guests were glancing across now, their attention split between Cat's well-used body and my own exposure.

"Put your other leg over mine" Alex told me, lips close to my ear, and I lifted it to straddle his thighs completely. It left me even more spread, on show; I had to reach back and hook one arm around Alex's neck to maintain my balance, the other hand resting on my chest so as to keep out of the way of his devious fingers. The same hot, full feeling radiating out of my ass that had pushed me over the edge a few days back was causing me to hum with excitement, while his gentle downward tugging on my balls left my cock twitching.

Alex whistled quietly; "another hot show, Coop" he whispered, lips brushing my ear. I wished there was a mirror in front of me, a full-length mirror like my mom had in her room. I wanted to be able to watch, to see the hot show this teenage boy was putting on for a garden's worth of strangers; see Alex's hand on my dick, stretching open my tight ass. I began to let out little grunts of pleasure, generally when his fingers reached a deep spot inside of me, tips nudging the swollen bump of my prostate. Meanwhile, Alex's own hardness pushed bluntly behind me, sometimes at the small of my back, sometimes against the soft flesh of my butt. Last I'd seen, his cut-offs were half unbuttoned; had his cock snaked free by now, was its spongy, throat-filling head nudging against my bare flesh? Was he leaving trails of precum over me?

The thought of it made my head reel; I pushed myself down on his hand, humping against the thickness of his fingers. "How many?" I muttered, my voice breathy. He chuckled.

"That made three" and instinctively my ass clamped down, feeling blissfully full and at the same time incredibly foreign. All the time I was pushing myself physically, my brain was playing catch-up as well; I knew tomorrow, when it came, there would be new questions about my identity, my sexuality - why, when I let my inhibitions drop, I seemed to always end up with men finger-fucking me or with cum across my face.

And yet today, right now, all I could really think about was the heat radiating from my butt, the physical shuddering as Alex squeezed the head of my cock, milking out gobs of glistening precum which he used to further slick his fingers and widen my hole, and I knew - as deeply as his probing digits - that I wanted him to fuck me.

I guess it didn't need to be said, not out loud; my body was telling everybody around us that I was losing the last of my reservations. Against the window, a black hand was clamped across Cat's mouth and half-covering his nose. The look of utterly aroused panic in his eyes had evolved into an almost bestial glaze, body contorted as his partner pounded him hard. Both of us had been worn down to the very core of our sexuality, nothing left but some odd mixture of pleasure and approval seeking.

My ass shifted, careful not to lose Alex's fingers from inside of me but nudging back now, grinding at the hardness where I knew his dick was, trying to wordlessly hint that I was ready for the next stage. He chuckled again, wrapped his big hand around the base of my cock, palm enclosing my tightened balls, and lifted me to him a little, pressing my back against his chest again.

"Gonna get fucked, straight boy" he teased, using the arm circling me to squeeze me tightly. "Got you all stretched out and ready for my cock, can't wait to see your face when I take your cherry."

For a moment he lifted us both, hand slipping from my ass as he tugged his cut-offs lower, and then I felt the hot length of him resting against me. My mind flicked back, trying to picture him up-close as he fed his inches into my mouth while I pumped my hips against Cat's butt the previous day. I knew he was big - bigger than me, certainly - and wide, too, with a blunt, broadly flared head and a meaty shaft that swelled partway down. The difference between that an a finger or two, even three fingers, seemed huge, and yet I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until it was buried inside me.

"This would be easier with you on all-fours, Coop, breeding you like a dog... but we need to give these nice gentlemen a great show, don't we."

His voice was silky, at odds with my own ragged breathing. "So I'm gonna lift you up, dude, and then I'm going to drop you back down on my cock, and it's gonna split you open." Part of me knew Alex would never hurt me, never let me come to harm, and yet I also knew he wouldn't hold back, not now, not when my virginity was at stake.

I felt him lift one of my legs, and then the rub as his prick shifted underneath me and then up, nestling in the crook between my thigh and my groin. Glancing down, I could see it throbbing; it looked bigger than yesterday, harder and somehow angrier in colour. Around us there was more attention, our performance drawing eyes away from Cat's near-rape inside. I could hear whispering and mutters from the crowd: "christ, look at that thing"; "that's gonna tear him a new asshole." I should've been scared - should probably have run a mile - but instead I turned my head, pushed my lips against the side of Alex's face until he too turned and kissed me.

As our tongues fought hungrily, he pulled me up by my thighs. "You need" he told me, between kisses, "to hold my prick up", and I reached down into the gap between our bodies to grip his hardness and keep it upright, aimed at my ass. With only the feel of it - my eyes locked on his - it felt unbelievably, unnaturally large; already the slick head was nudging my pucker, my own weight pushing me against it.

"I'm gonna put you down" Alex warned me, and I knew this was it - the moment for leaping up, locking my legs crossed and screaming "no, no, never!" was fast expiring. Instead, though, I used one hand to pull his head in for a closer, deeper kiss, the other still guiding his cock as he slowly, gently let gravity take me.

It was... amazing. And painful, and so strange I couldn't believe there was any connection between Alex's fingers and what I was now encountering. At first as though I was trying to balance on a baseball bat, only gradually the bat was spreading me wider and wider.

It hurt, of course it hurt, but it was addictive too: like picking at a scab or scratching an insect bite. I humped my butt down, frustrated by Alex's cautious pace, and gasped as the fullness of his head broached me completely and what must have been an inch or so of the plump shaft jerked its way inside. Alex groaned into our kiss, his hips twitching at the sensation and driving in more of his cock.

I didn't know how much was in me and how much was left; the stretched, burning sensation of my ring was being overwhelmed by the alien feeling as his precum-slick cock bruised its way into my hole. I knew Alex must want to fuck his whole length into me, must be holding back: I remembered my own unstoppable urges the previous day, unable to delay my angry, aggressive pounding of Cat's tight, pliable ass. My fingers - no longer needed to hold Alex's shaft upright - played around the tautness of my skin where we joined, as my head marvelled at how something so broad could squeeze inside of me.

I gripped at my tightened balls, ran my sweaty palm up the length of my erection and felt trickles of juice coating the head and dripping down. On a high, I smeared my fingertips in the stickiness and then moved them to my lips; Alex turned his head slightly, and together we licked and sucked the glistening sap from them, tongues sliding and the musky, tangy scent strong in our nostrils. He gave another lurch and a new wave of part-pain, part-pleasure radiated out from my butt as he continued his assault. I wondered how many encounters it would take before my sensitive ass would be able to accommodate the sort of rough, unsparing fuck Cat was taking right now.

"Can't hold it, little man" Alex grunted at me, frowning as I scooped more precum off my dick and greased it across our lips, only to lick it off a few seconds later. "Need to be all in you." I was frightened, but at the same time there was nothing I would - perhaps nothing I could - do to change it, change the intimacy I was feeling with him right now. Yes, we were surrounded by strange men, watching me take my first cock and knowing from my bobbing hardness that I was enjoying every inch of it, but at the same time this was the closest I had ever felt to Alex, maybe to any other person. From those first coy glances at the gym, to his fingers and the shower and his spunk across my hungry face, this was the culmination of a bizarre, brotherly seduction that had changed me forever.

Suddenly, I felt Alex's arms relax - for a moment it was like I was floating, and then my butt crammed down around him and his full length drove into me. My head shot back, breaking our kiss, as my back arched at the shock of it. I felt so incredibly full, my hole distorted like never before. The faint bristle of his short pubes scratched against my cheeks as my own dick lurched and bounced. I reached back, both arms around his neck as he wrapped my chest and pulled me down, grinding the last of his prick into the hot confines of my ass.

"Oh fuck, dude, you're so tight" he groaned, and I felt it - a gripping sleeve around his rigid length. I wanted to reach down, feel our merging for myself, but I couldn't unlace my hands from behind his head. In front of us I saw men watching intently, gazes fixed at where Alex and I were joined, and not for the first time I wished I could see through their eyes.

A coarse voice called out "bet that's your biggest yet?" and there were chuckles; I blinked, clung tightly to Alex's broad shoulders as his tool throbbed inside me.

"He's my first" I told them, voice husky, and heard a few impressed whistles that flushed me with pride.

"Then you better fuck the virgin all out of him" someone ordered Alex, and now the chuckles were dirty, lecherous, and I knew there was nothing these men wanted to see more than my teenage body well used.

Obviously the command had made it through to Alex, though, as his hips began to jerk, nudging his cock a bare inch or so each time and sending glorious vibrations through my taut hole. "Do it" I hissed through clenched teeth, and he obeyed me; used his bear hug around my chest to lift me in his lap and then pull me back down. Gently at first, patiently, as my ass got used to the blunt invader fucking it open, but then harder and longer, lengthening the strokes until I was flexing my splayed thighs to help lift me, feeling the tug as the crown of his dick dragged at my insides.

The increasing pace spurred on our audience, and they began to call out encouragement - harsh and brutal - describing what Alex should do to me and my inexperienced flesh. "Punch-fuck that little bitch" I heard, "screw the twink's guts out." It should've left me mortified, but instead it was like a hot fist of pure sex was tightening in my stomach, leaving me heady and breathless. "Breed that dirty little slut" someone hissed, and there were jeers of encouragement. Perhaps Alex heard it and was similarly turned on, or maybe it was just the naive cling of my hole but his pace increased, thighs slapping against my cheeks. I reached down and felt his churning balls, drawn close to his body and yet still full in my hand; my own dick left chords of precum across my forearm as it whipped and bounced between my well-spread legs.

Then I felt him pushing me forward, his hands gripping my sides tightly just underneath my armpits, leaning me over and toward the slats of the lounger. As I moved, Alex shifted behind me, never stopping the pounding strokes against my butt. Finally I was leaning on my arms, bent at the elbows, back arched cat-like - somehow this let him deeper into me, and I felt the head of his cock nudging further inside my by-now slick, greasy tunnel.

"Yeah, that's it, ream that cunt out!" The crowd shuffled closer, casting long shadows across my face. I looked up, Alex's hands roaming across my lower back and down to stroke the downy fur on my thighs. There were several bulging crotches at eye-level, pawing fingers stroking obvious erections as they watched my innocence - what was left of it after this week of firsts, anyway - taken. Part of me, the same part that had thrilled to Alex's dangerous touch as he frigged my hole in the gym showers, wanted to take things to their next, promiscuous conclusion, but I couldn't bring myself to initiate, to take that step.

Alex, it seemed had no such compunction - either that, or he read my mind. Twisting his cock in me, stretching my ass in a new direction and making me gasp with the thrill of it, he addressed the oversexed crowd.

"Who wants his mouth?"

Again there were catcalls, whistles - guys nudging each other to take the first step. I bowed my head, blushing hotly, ashamed at being offered so bluntly and - more than that - at being so desperate for someone to use me, so thankful that the choice was no longer mine. Alex owned my hole and now he was whoring out my mouth, too.

Fingers under my chin, tugging my face up. I peered up, eyes narrowing against the shafts of sunlight that lapped across me. He was young, though older than Alex; perhaps Simon's age. Slim, with stern, angular features. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing narrow, well-veined forearms. As his other hand fumbled with his fly, he winked at me, flashed half a smile that made me blush again. I glanced down, to watch him unbutton and unzip, tug his shirt out of the way and expose a pair of sleek white boxer-briefs heavily tented with his arching prick.

I admit it, my mouth started watering. Alex had called me a good cocksucker, and whether or not that were true - beginners luck if it were so - I definitely wanted another opportunity to prove my abilities. The unnamed guy stepped forward, groin bare inches from my face. Still balancing my torso on one arm, my body jerking forward with each of Alex's long, tingling strokes into my ass, I reached out and pulled down the soft, stretchy material to let his erection free.

It burst out, reasonably long and with a pronounced upward curve. I hooked the waistband of his briefs under his loose balls and wrapped my slender fingers around the heft of his shaft. As I gently tugged back, I realised he was uncut - he still had foreskin, something I'd never seen before. The sheath of pink flesh drew away from the slick, sticky head of his dick, the scent of him sharp and acrid. I gave a tentative stroke, then another, marvelling at the way the close-fitting hood puckered and slid across him.

The press of his hand on the back of my head, fingers twining in my hair, brought me back into the moment. He shuffled forward again, and I half-opened my lips as the gooey tip of his cock pressed against them. My tongue lapped out and ran around the crown, and I groaned at the addictive taste of his juice. Then he was pushing again, harder this time, and his glans broke into my mouth and he fed me the first few inches, maybe half of him filling my face as my puffy lips played around the silky skin.

"Good boy" he murmured, and I wanted so desperately to please him, to be that good boy he was looking for. Gradually at first, then bolder, I suctioned in my cheeks, rolled the gobful of drool around his gently thrusting dick. My fingers formed a loose ring around the chunky base of it, tugging on it softly. Sometimes, when Alex reamed me particularly deeply, I felt the head of his cock nudging at my throat as my whole body was pushed into his crotch.

"Down his throat...?" The guy was asking Alex, not me - I guess I was just a hole for him, albeit a wet, hungry, eager hole - and I knew a half-second before he answered what he would say.

"Nah, he likes it on his face."

I grunted, mouth full of dick and overwhelmed by the sleaziness of it, of what I had become. My unnamed partner was fucking his cock into me now, using my mouth roughly, and I could only lash my tongue around the marble-hard flesh at random as his hips flailed against me.

And then he pulled out, hurriedly wrapping his fist around his shaft and pumping - once, twice, gaping piss-slit at the level of my eyes - and a rope of cum spurt out and across me, then another and another, braiding me from forehead to chin with his strong-smelling juice. Breaths shuddered in my chest, as he rubbed his cock-head across my nose and my lips, easing out the last few pearls of slime. My tongue whisped out - I had to do it, it was instinctive - and tasted his spunk as it slowly ran across my lips.

That broke the moment, ended their hesitance at least, and when I opened my eyes there was another cock in front of me. I didn't even look up, didn't check to see who it belonged to; all my brain was telling me was "do it, do it!" and, as Alex's hand left a ringing slap across my butt cheek, I opened up and let the new guy feed himself into me. Immediately he pushed it in deep, and I gagged as the narrow head spiked into my gullet, eyes watering as he jerked it between my lips. Underneath me my dick felt as hard as I could remember it ever being; the glans nestled wetly into my palm as I rubbed it into my hand, before pushing my fingers back to tug roughly at Alex's straining balls.

He was panting, and I could feel his fingertips pressing into the small of my back. I'd been trying to squeeze down on him with the aching, stretched muscles in my ass, clamping hard with each stroke he made. There was no holding him back now; Alex was throwing his hips forward, slamming his cock up into my hole, grinding it at an angle to burn against the edge of my ring, digging it up to rasp against my prostate.

As well as the dick in my mouth there was another jerking off at my cheek, fist flailing until he striped thick cords of spunk over my flushed face. The guy I was sucking - by now my tired mouth simply gulping at his hardness - grunted, took a fistful of my sweaty hair and yanked my head back, releasing his first blast of cream against the back of my throat before pulling out and hosing the rest of his load across my lips. My face felt heavy with their mingling juices, my taste buds overwhelmed with the bleachy tang of what I'd managed to choke down.

Alex's jabs were harder, punctuated as he thrust his final strokes. "Gonna breed you, Coop" he hissed, "gonna fuck my cum up your ass." I was muttering, high off spunk and the acid jolts radiating out from my prostate, begging him to finish what he'd started. His fingers cupped my hips and pulled me against him roughly; I palmed my cock to match, arched my back some more.

It came from the depths of his throat, the growl - a guttural and furious noise as he held himself deep inside me. I could feel his erection jolting in my ass, imagine the gobs of juice coating my well-battered inner walls. It was more the thought than the feeling that tipped me over the edge, my aching dick spurting its own sticky sap across my tweaking fingers and the lounger I was splayed on while my ring clamped rhythmically around his shaft. Alex's fingers were stroking gently down the small of my back, tips lightly brushing my goose-pimpling skin as he recovered from his own high.

The strength ebbed from my shoulders; I rested my cum-dripping face on the chair, sucking in deep breaths. The juice was cooling now, a strange sensation. Alex started to chuckle, and after a moment I had to join in - I didn't quite know what I was laughing at, what the joke might be, but it was the most honest physical reaction I could have at that moment. He twisted his hips a little, cock still heavy in my ass, then gently backed off; it was cold and strange, an empty feeling. I wondered what I looked like, some teenage boy with his ass high in the air, face glistening and hole gaping.

"Looking good from back here, dude" Alex laughed, and I craned my head over my shoulder to see him nodding at my butt. Guess I really was a sight.

"They should make the little Asian bitch lick it all out" I heard someone suggest, and I glanced over to the window where Cat had been pressed. Now he was on the floor, sat with his legs outstretched. The black hand I'd last seen clamped across his mouth seemingly belonged to Brad - no great surprise there, perhaps - who was now holding Cat around the neck with his arm, mouth close to the boy's ear. I don't know what he was saying, but Cat's hand was flailing wildly on his cock, much to the amusement of the guys standing around the mismatched pair.

"Cat," Alex called out, "dinnertime!" Both he and Brad looked up, then the black youth took a grip of Cat's unruly hair and half-led, half-dragged him over to us. Up close I could see the red marks and scratches across his smooth skin; his eyes were red-rimmed, and I wondered if he'd been crying and - if so - just how much rough treatment he would not only take but enjoy.

"You heard him, slut." Brad's voice was mocking; he either got off on dominating the Asian teen as much as Cat enjoyed submitting, or he played the part damn well. "Go to work." He pushed him toward us, Cat crawling across Alex's legs - I heard another ringing slap, as he smacked his ass cheek hard - to move behind me.

Fingers, first, and then the most incredible, soft, wet stroking against my skin. Cat ran his tongue gently from my still-tight balls and up, across my hole and to the tip of my crack, then moved down again and repeated it. I squirmed, partly wanting to pull away from the lightly tickling sensation, and partly wanting to grind my butt back into his face and make sure he never, ever stopped. Then he was concentrating on my gooey ass, circling licks first before orbiting in and forcing his tongue inside.

"Dirty little cum-whore" someone sneered, and I imagined Cat's face smeared with Alex's spunk and my sweat as he dug his mouth against me.

He was making tiny grunting sounds now, sucking on my ass and pulling my cheeks apart with his hands.

"Jeez Brad, you worked him over good!" Alex was laughing, and I heard Cat yelp in-between his snuffling; he never stopped tonguing me, though. "I can get three fingers in here no problem, it's messy as fuck." I thought of Cat squeezed in-between Alex and I, the older youth with half a hand in the Asian lad's ass; I had to see it.

My arms shifted weakly underneath me, as I began to twist on the lounger and turn myself. Cat pulled his face away as he realised what I was doing, and I flipped over - back landing in a pool of cold spunk in the process - before tucking my legs over his shoulders and using my calves to pull his head back down. He winked at me and then got back to work on my hole; over his shoulder I could see Alex wearing a broad, lazy grin, as his fingers dug away into Cat's ass.

He'd eaten me out for maybe five, ten minutes in the end, eventually graduating from just his mouth to playing his delicate hands across my midsection. I'd alternated sitting up on my elbows and lying flat on my back, fist between my teeth as the waves of tickling pleasure radiated through me. My dick had got hard again - of course - but Cat ignored it for all but the most careless of brushes; he was obviously too busy digging the last remnants of Alex's load out of my well-used hole, and it was left wagging in the air.

Gradually the crowd around us had thinned - I heard someone mention food, so perhaps our show was less interesting in the end than the promise of a buffet - and even Alex stood up from behind Cat's crouching form, strolled over to the bar for a bottle of water, cock lolling shamelessly from his part-buttoned cut-offs. Brad was lying, uninterested, on a lounger across the patio - sunglasses on but nothing else - his thick, flaccid length dipping heavily between his slightly-spread thighs.

Tony and Simon were both MIA, entertaining I guessed, and I wondered how much of my activities either had actually seen. They were careless, only partially complete thoughts however; I'd doubted I'd ever cum again, after the strength of my orgasm when Alex reamed me, but Cat's persistent attentions to my hole were making me reconsider. Despite the public nature of our play, somehow it felt intimate and - not private, of course not private - but more personal than anything I'd done so far.

Cat looked up at me, head framed by my thighs, and smiled. My erection waved in front of his face, and he stuck out his tongue and jabbed at it. It was a half-hearted effort, and we both giggled.

"You okay?" I asked him quietly, not wanting to break the moment. He rolled his eyes, flashed me a toothy grin.

"Sure."

I frowned, Alex's comment that Brad had "worked him over good" and the image of his slender body pinned tightly against the window at the front of my mind.

"Cooper, you worry too much." He lapped wetly at my balls, and I reached down to swat flippantly at his tangled hair.

"Doesn't it, you know... hurt?"

"What, when you smack me on the head?" He pouted playfully, knowing exactly what I was really asking. "Yeah, it does, but I kinda like it." I nodded, though I still couldn't quite get my head around it. "And you didn't hold back much yesterday, did you!"

Any other time I'd probably have blushed, but - legs spread, hole oozing spunk and my face and torso still coated with a light sheen of other mens' juice - it didn't really seem necessary. Instead I grinned, squeezed my thighs shut, gripping his head as he grimaced a little.

"Get back to work, slut."

===

Well, that's part three done. For once Cooper didn't end up riddled with self-doubt, which makes a nice change! Did you like it? Hate it? Want some more? Let me know at alexp336@gmail.com - it's always amazing to hear from people.

Oh, and since a couple of people asked, I set up a twitter account. Will try to use it to give updates about how chapters are progressing.

http://twitter.com/alexp336