"The best laid plans of mice and men," eh? I left you hanging - and, judging from some of the photos you guys have sent me, hanging pretty heavily too! - with the wait for part four; sadly the real world demanded my attention, and writing about Cooper, Alex and the rest of the boys had to take a back seat.
Hope it's worth the delay. Feedback, as always, gratefully received at alexp336@gmail.com
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On the Poolboy Payroll - Part Four
Cat had licked me for another five or ten minutes, his teasing spreading from my hole and up, across my balls, around the shaft of my bobbing cock and then down, onto the smooth expanses of my inner thighs. Eventually, though, Brad had come out of the house and knelt at the side of our lounger, close to Cat's head.
"Hey" he grinned, and whereas before - when we'd had an audience - he'd been tough, thuggish with the Asian teen, now we were close to alone at the deserted poolside he was surprisingly boyish and friendly. Cat glanced across, raised his eyebrows but continued to play his tongue against me.
Brad reached out, not looking at me but taking hold of my erection in his hand as he talked quietly to Cat. I shuddered as the rough pad of his thumb scraped across the delicate, swollen head, moving to rest - and rub slightly - in the V-shaped underside where glans meets shaft.
"You wanna get spit-roasted on the table?" he asked Cat, nodding toward the house. The boy lifted his head.
"Fuck yeah!"
He looked up at me, face framed between my muscled thighs.
"Laters Coop!" Standing, he brushed down his legs and wiped his wet chin - slicked with spit and the juice from my ass - across his forearm, before turning to trot to the open patio doors. Brad looked up at me, making eye contact properly for the first time.
"Sorry dude: work, y'know" and shrugged. He was wearing a pair of short-legged red swimming shorts, tight enough to show the hefty sag of his well-stuffed basket, and out of which his tight, hard-muscled torso spread. Normally his face could be quite intimidating, but with a grin it lit up. I'd never really looked at black guys in this way before, but all of a sudden I was very intrigued by this well-hung, tough guy.
He started to stand, fist still wrapped around my dick, then bent and sucked the plum-red head into his mouth. His full lips brushed against the ridge, while inside I could feel his tongue circling, swabbing across my hardness. Only for a few seconds, mind; then he let go, stood fully, looked down at where I was lying.
"Play later?" and I grinned back at him. He nodded. "Cool." Turned and walked into the house.
After a few minutes - just enjoying the relative silence - I stood myself, stretched my arms above my head as I felt the tightness of my muscles ebb out of me. I wasn't sure if Brad's invitation meant later on today or at some other time in the future; either way, I felt sticky and well in need of a shower.
I scooped up the discarded jockstrap where it lay by the lounger, surprised none of Simon's guests had taken it as a souvenir of the afternoon's debauchery, and headed toward the pool house. It felt strange to walk across the patio completely naked - cock swaying in front of me - and somewhere near the back of my mind a quiet voice was asking when I was going to sit down and consider exactly what had happened to me today.
And yet, while my limits had proved, well, to be nowhere near limiting, and while my ass was radiating with untold new sensations - stretching, fucking, licking and more - none of it quite seemed to register with me, at least not yet. All I knew was that I could think back to earlier events and only have my dick get harder, not suffer some sort of terrible breakdown.
I walked into the changing room, and realised I wasn't alone. A tall, young guy stood by the lockers and was now looking over his shoulder at me with a half-horrified expression on his face. He wore the white shirt of one of the waiters but, barring his underwear, was naked from the waist down. I'd caught him folding his trousers, obviously ready to go back into his rucksack which sprawled out of an open cubby.
His eyes flicked down to my cock, back up to my face, and I suddenly recognised him; the almost-emo guy who had served drinks while I'd first been touched up by the pool. Without the all-covering apron I realised my first impressions, that he'd been angular and skinny, were correct. His legs looked strong enough but obviously weren't shaped by frequent gym visits, and were covered in a light dusting of dark hair. He turned away, finished putting his trousers in the bag.
"Sorry, they told me I could get changed in here" he apologised over his shoulder, looking into the locker rather than at me. Beneath his shirt-tails I could see the surprisingly plump curve of his ass, clad in bright pink briefs with grey piping around the legs.
"Sure," I said, eyes tracking up the narrow cinch of his waist and then to the glossy head of almost black hair, "I just needed a shower." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I bet."
I frowned. Okay, so he served drinks and I got fucked by strange men, but I wasn't happy being laughed at.
"Whatever, dude, I'm showering. Have a good one."
I started to walk over to the stack of towels piled neatly on a table near the shower stalls. Suddenly the waiter turned around.
"Doesn't it, y'know, hurt?" he asked. I didn't really need him to be more specific, but I was still pissed over his implication before.
"Doesn't what hurt?"
He sighed, rolled his eyes a little. "Getting fucked. Getting fucked in the ass."
I grinned at him, smirked a little. "It feels fucking amazing."
He blushed, glanced down at the floor. Front on, I could see the white, creamy expanse of his chest through his open shirt, a little definition leading down to the tight waistband of his briefs. I'd not seen much hint of bulge thanks to the apron before, but now I could see some decent heft cradled in the bright material.
"I've got a girlfriend" he blurted out, and I frowned, confused.
"Great, good for you" I began to reply, but then he stepped forward, closed the distance between us and wrapped his hand around my dick.
"I'm not gay, okay" he insisted. A reply didn't entirely seem necessary - I got the feeling he was talking to himself really, trying to reassure against whatever messed up messages must be going round his head right now. Not gay, got a girlfriend, but with your hand on another guy's erection and - I could see - starting to throw a pretty decent bone yourself. Yeah, I knew how that sort of situation could get confusing for a dude.
I reached up and pushed his shirt from his shoulders. He was narrower than me, not quite as lithe as Cat but certainly skinny and taut. As the shirt fell he briefly let go of me, tugged the cuff off his wrist and over his hand, and then quickly took hold again, as if afraid of letting me out of his grasp for longer than a few seconds. Looking down, I saw my cock filled his hand nicely; I knew it would be slick and wet still from Brad's mouth and the various juices that had been spilled recently, perfect in fact for sliding a friendly fist along its thick length.
"Do you... y'know, do it a lot?" His tone was tentative, obviously nervous, while his hand pulled rhythmically along my shaft. For the moment I didn't touch him, left my arms hanging at my sides as his rapt attention was captured by my dick.
"It was my first time. Today, I mean. You watched my first time." Somehow, saying it out loud made it feel real; like, until now it'd been just another jotting in the margin of my diary. "Tidy room, put in laundry, get fucked."
"Whoa..." he whistled, softly. I could see his other hand groping at the front of his briefs, cupping the growing meat inside. I reached out, hooked a finger at the waistband and pulled a little.
His head sprung up, deer-in-the-headlights, as if - despite having his hand on one of my most intimate parts - he'd forgotten there was another person actually attached to it. I smiled, gently, hoping to put him at ease and at the same time a little amused; that was probably the same sort of expression I'd had the other day, in a similar situation with Alex.
I pulled his briefs out, down a little, and his cock bounced free. The elastic snapped up to hug the underside of his scrotum, pushing everything forward. It was the second uncut dick I'd seen today, and the first pierced one; a shiny chrome loop hooked through the end, the precum-slick pucker of his foreskin drawn back slightly to reveal it.
"Dude" I said, a little surprised. He glanced down, then back at me, smirking a little.
"Yeah, I know. My girlfriend thinks it's awesome." He tossed his head a little, moving the bangs from in his eyes. I chuckled.
"Does she do this?"
Although it pained me to pull my cock from his deft fingers, I dipped to my haunches and quickly pulled his hardness to my mouth. First mushing the folds around the head to my pouting lips, I opened up just enough to let him guide his length into me, the metal of the ring unusual as it dragged along my tongue. I sucked, just a little, and felt a warm, salty flood of precum ooze out, before driving the stiffened tip of my tongue underneath the stretchy hood.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck" he chanted, hands either side of my head now, guiding my wet, juicing mouth along his prick. I steadied myself with a grip on each of his furred calves, feeling the muscles tense and flex as he set up a gentle, thrusting pace against me. Eventually his balls were bouncing against my chin, my nose pressing into the snarl of sweat-damp, musky pubes. His thumbs traced carefully around the crenulations of my ears.
"Coop, seriously, with the help, man?" Alex laughed from the doorway, causing the waiter boy to jump and try to pull away. I quickly moved one hand up between his legs, holding his ass in place and keeping his dick in my mouth as I used the other to flick Alex the finger. He laughed again, groped his bulging cutoffs conspicuously, and winked at us.
"Have fun, boys."
As he left, I could still feel tension in the almost-emo. I redoubled my efforts, circling my tongue around the salty knob, digging it into the piercing; meanwhile, I let my finger trace deeper into the crack between his cheeks, finding it lightly furred and damp.
"No... I mean, I don't..." he started, but I ignored him; hell, I'd have made the same weak protestations myself a few days before. Instead I felt his legs half-buckle as my fingertip glided across the ridges of his hole, not lingering long enough to worry him unduly but setting up a careless stroking motion that soon had him purring. I'd come a long way - a week ago, I'd hardly played around my own ass in the privacy of my bedroom with the lights off. Now, I knew from personal experience how mind-blowing a spit-slick finger could be, digging evilly around your prostate, and how fucking intense the cum was afterwards. The feel of another dude's lips around your dick, well, that was an awesome bonus.
I should've felt guilty, squatting in front of him and feasting on his prick, but I didn't. I felt powerful, and sexual, and I could feel precum dripping from me onto the floor between my splayed thighs.
"Fuck, you're... you're so fucking... fuck, take it all" he grunted, semi-wordless in heat, cocking his hips forward so that his glans pushed its way half into my throat, then yanking them back so that my finger would graze across his ass. "Fuck, I'm gonna blow."
Pulling away didn't seem like an option - either to my sex-charged brain or to almost-emo's hands gripped tightly around the sides of my head - and so I used the flat of my tongue to grind the underside of his cock-head, pressing it against the ridges on the roof of my mouth.
He grunted again, moaned, and I felt the hard jets of his spunk against the back of my throat; three, four, five rapid pulses and then the cloying, bleachy tang of it spreading to fill my taste-buds.
"Whoa, fuck, I blew in your mouth dude!" He was astonished - even though his tight hold had given me little choice in the matter - and I looked up at him as he pulled his rubbery, softening dick from between my lips. I grinned, let a trickle of cum ooze out from the corner.
"Dude, nasty!" he complained, and I licked it away, gulping the last of the thick seed down and letting myself finally sit down on the tiled floor. It was cold against my butt, and all of a sudden that shower I'd initially been intending to grab seemed all the more excellent an idea.
"Your girlfriend not do that?" I asked, playfully, smirking at him. He was looking at me half-amazed, half-disgusted; shook his head, resigned.
"No, no she fuckin' doesn't." He looked disappointed at that; I wondered whether, despite my naivety, and relative inexperience, I'd spoiled him for her, and her for him. "I fuckin' wish!"
I reached an arm out, and he grabbed me and helped pull me up. Now he seemed a little scared, perhaps worried I was going to try to kiss him or maybe push him down and force him to return the favour. I didn't.
"Dude, I gotta shower." I scratched my chest, made a show of sniffing under my arm; I shouldn't have bothered, the musk of the day's exertions was strong. I was semi-hopeful he'd join me - I didn't know what exactly I wanted to do with him, but he seemed curious enough to experiment a little until I figured that out - but he backed away, reached down to tuck himself back in his briefs.
"I... I should go" he stuttered, and I nodded in agreement. Grabbed a towel from the pile and flicked it over my shoulder as I sauntered into the showers.
"Yeah, have a good one."
The absence of a mother screaming at me to stop using up all the hot water meant I probably stuck around under there far longer than I ought to. Still, I figured Simon had got a pretty good show out of me for his guests this afternoon, and he could likely afford the heating bill no questions asked. I'd soaped myself twice, feeling tentatively around my hole half-expecting it to be wide open and gaping. Instead, it felt almost like normal - a little softer, more pliable than when I'd played my fingers around it before, perhaps, but not the train-wreck I'd feared.
The rest of the soap had been to ease away the sweat, spunk and other juices I'd acquired, and by the time I stepped out, roughly towelling my unruly mop of hair, I felt spick & span again. Moving over to my bag, I realised someone must have been into the locker room while I was in the shower; there was a new pair of underwear on top, where before I'd dumped my jock.
I picked it up, held out the soft, smooth fabric. Squarecut, short in the leg, with a well-shaped pouch at the front which seemed almost over-stitched. I finished drying my legs and around my crotch, then stepped into the stretchy blue material, pulling it up and tucking my softened cock and balls into place. The pouch pulled everything forward, my bulge jutting out and my ass held neat and high by the seams that ran diagonally across each cheek.
I'd packed a pair of loose cargo shorts, reckoning I'd need a change of clothes for the ride home, and they hung low on my hips. An inch or so of waistband peeked over the top of them, and the front sagged noticeably around my over-pronounced crotch. Something told me this was Alex's handiwork - I knew enough about him to realise this was just his style (and, I guessed, the style he liked to see other men sporting) - but I couldn't really argue with the end result. Pulling on a vest and running my fingers through the tangle of my still-damp hair, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out.
He was waiting for me, leaning back against the shaded wall of the poorhouse with his arms crossed and big sunglasses on. I chuckled; he looked a little like a male version of the street-walkers my parents and I had driven past once, after we'd gone downtown for a meal, taken a wrong turn on the way home, and ended up piecing a route back through the red light district.
"Yo, Coop, leaving us so soon?"
I smiled at him, shrugged. "You got yours, Alex, didn't you? What's left to stick around for?"
He chuckled. "I got mine, the waiter got his..." I thumped him on the arm, playfully. He held out his hands, palms forward, as if to calm me down. "Okay, okay, I get it. You could make a dude jealous, that's all."
There was a smile on his face, but I felt a shiver in my stomach all the same. Up until now we'd been playing - yeah, playing seriously, the sort of play where I got fucked with an audience - but now there was a hint of something more... something more personal perhaps? I'd assumed I was Alex's latest toy, his newest project, and to be honest hadn't given it all that much thought; no, I was too busy coming to terms with the feelings and sensations radiating out from my inexperienced body as he - and his cast of poolside friends - brought out a side of me I'd never known was there.
I blushed a little, looked down at our feet. "Jeez, dude..."
He reached out, brushed an errant strand of hair back from near my face. I don't know why he picked that one bit over all the other semi-knotted tangles, but it felt somehow more intimate than anything we'd done that day.
"Ah, Coop" he started, then paused. "Look, dude, you wanna come over to my place tomorrow? Chill for a while?"
"Sure!" I was probably being over-eager, but knowing he wanted to spend time with me had lit a new ball of excitement in my stomach. I guess that strain of hero-worship from the gym hadn't quite expired.
He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it over. "Midday, maybe?" I nodded. "Great. Oh, and Coop, nice threads."
My eyes rolled at him almost of their own accord. I hooked my thumb into the waistband of my shorts, tugging them down an inch or so more to show off the shiny blue material of the boxer-briefs.
"Fuck the threads, dude," I told him, "it's what's inside that counts."
Alex laughed at that, loudly, and it felt great. He pushed gently against my shoulder, propelling me a step backwards down the path.
"Get lost, wiseguy; I'll see you tomorrow."
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in my bedroom mirror when I got home, bag dumped on the floor and sandals kicked off. It pulled me up short. Hair still damp from the shower, wind-messed from the drive home with the roof down, I stopped and looked at myself. It was stupid, I knew, but I felt like I was different somehow; like the events of the past week or so had changed me outwardly. Perhaps it was simply the scale of the changes going on inside, and a sense that things so significant should have an outward impact too.
And what would that outward impact look like? Times had moved on enough so that I wouldn't be wearing a scarlet 'G' on my chest, branded gay and shunned by society. If anything I was smiling more, making more eye-contact, being more forward where previously I'd been shy to the point of reticence. Eighteen years old and I didn't have a clue, and Alex was helping me to figure my shit out by fucking me while strangers watched. No, it wasn't the classic way to come of age, but despite some queasy misgivings still in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't really argue too much with it.
I was up early the next day, and spent the rest of the morning pacing like something caged. Alex had said midday and I wanted to be there on the dot; that meant several hours anxiously checking and re-checking the clock just to make sure. It was strange, I'd obviously spent time with him before - at the gym, at Simon's - but being invited to his home, where I guessed it would be just the two of us, felt like a far bigger step to my head than his taking my virginity yesterday had been to my body.
I'd expected some post-sex consequences, either physical or mental, but so far my conscience had proved pretty uninterested. When I'd tentatively felt around my ass in the shower that morning, things felt no different there, either. Tight as ever, in fact, gripping at the single digit like a hot glove. My sucking off all those strangers perhaps triggered a bead of guilt, but only in a "man, I drank too much" way, where you grin sideways and hardly regret it at all.
As yesterday I was wearing my cargo shorts - chunky with pockets and reaching to around the knee - and the blue boxer-briefs Alex had left out for me the previous day. I'd only worn them for the drive home, and then changed into sweatpants as soon as I was back, so it didn't feel too teenage to get a proper day's wear from them. A short-sleeved t-shirt, sandals and a smudge of hair wax to keep the unruly mop in place, and I was done. That had taken all of half an hour, leaving me plenty of time to clock-watch.
Eventually, though, it was time, and I steered the Mini downtown to Alex's address. He didn't live all that far from the gym, only in the other direction to my parents' house, in a pretty new apartment block maybe 10 or 12 stories high. I pushed the door buzzer, heard an almost-inaudible "come in", and then took the elevator to his floor.
A door was open across the lobby, and I guessed that was Alex's place.
Walking across I kinda missed how he would come meet me halfway down the path around Simon's house, guiding me in the last few feet and, in some way, finalising the transition between the Cooper that did his quiet thing outside of that place, and the Cooper that came alive by the pool.
His head popped out around the door-frame, grinning as usual.
"Coop! Dude, where've you been?"
I glanced down at my wrist, even though I knew I wasn't wearing a watch. It was bang on midday, I was sure of it; I'd even sat in the car for a few minutes, staring at the clock, timing it just right.
"What can I say, dude, I'm a busy guy" I joked back with him, and he shook his head mock-sorrowful.
"You'd better come in, then, busy guy."
His apartment was nice - big for just one guy - with plenty of windows and a decent view. Not over-cluttered like my parents' place. He gave me the tour when I first walked in, and we ended up sprawled at either end of the broad sofa in the living room.
"It's good to see you, Coop" and I smiled back; I'd only seen him the previous day, but it felt good to see him again now.
He was wearing a sleeveless vest with a few buttons at the neck - all undone - and it framed his muscular chest and impressive arms nicely. Turned to me on the couch, one bare foot on the floor and the other leg bent and with his arm wrapped around the knee, his cut-off sweatpants hung a little lower than mid-thigh. They also clung quite noticeably around his crotch, the grey material having a fair few interesting bulges going on.
For my own part I'd mirrored his pose, though after kicking my sandals off I had both legs up on the chair; one up like his, the other folded flat in front of me. After sitting down I'd pushed my hips forward, reckoning it would pull my shorts around the outline of my groin. A quick glance down confirmed that was definitely the case.
"So how are you feeling?"
I wasn't sure how to answer; was that just a friendly question like you'd ask anyone, or was he referring to what we'd been doing yesterday?
"Um... I'm good" I hedged, smiling sheepishly.
Alex rolled his eyes. "You're good, well that's good isn't it. Good." He snorted. "Man, Coop, you're a guy of few words!"
I shrugged, still smiling.
"What about that waiter guy yesterday, did he fuck you?"
The question caught me off guard; I mean, I'd assumed Alex would know that all I'd done was blow him, but then again why would he?
"No! I mean, no; you're the only one that fucked me yesterday."
His lips tightened into a smile as he nodded.
I held his eye-contact for a beat. "And it felt pretty fucking amazing."
I expected him to laugh, or to swat at my knee and tell me to stop messing around, but he didn't. Instead, he looked me in the eyes and told me "Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing for me, too."
For a while neither of us had anything - or knew quite what - to say. We just sat there, watching each other, thinking about how we'd felt the previous day and the things we'd done. Alex broke the silence.
"What are you wearing, Coop?"
I glanced down again, momentarily confused then figuring out what he was talking about.
"The blue ones you left out" I told him, briefly reaching down and gripping gently at the mound of my crotch.
"Heh, so you figured that was me?"
"Sure, nobody else gives me underwear dude; well, only my mom."
He raised his eyebrows, jokingly. "Your mom buys you underwear like that?"
I pushed his knee, playfully. "No, idiot; you've seen what my mom buys me, and you weren't all that impressed if I remember right."
Alex nodded. "Well, Coop, I'm impressed now. Wanna show me?"
I stood, unfolding my legs and standing just in front of the couch. As yesterday, my cargo shorts hung loosely on my hips; the first inch or so of the boxer-briefs were visible anyway, where my t-shirt had crept up. I thumbed the snap of the shorts, then purred the zip down.
Eventually they fell down to my ankles, and I stepped out of them.
Half-naked in front of Alex. Again. I was more confident this time, though very away that this wasn't some bizarre job to help an odd voyeur get his rocks off; this was me and another guy I almost idolised, alone in his apartment. I could feel his eyes all over me, roaming up my bare, slightly hairy legs, across the bright, clinging blue of the boxer-briefs and the heft where my cock pushed out the pouch, and then the bright white of my t-shirt as it draped across my torso.
"Enough?" I asked him, half-hoping he'd say no - that he wanted to look at me some more - or that he'd instruct me to take off something else, take it all off until I was stood naked in front of him like a naughty boy at the front of a classroom.
"You're a hot little dude, you know that Coop?" was his reply, and I saw him tug obviously at his crotch through the stretchy material of his sweats. I could feel my dick starting to harden.
"What are you wearing, Alex?" He squinted up at me.
"Under these?" He plucked at the grey fabric. "Nothing, man, nothing at all."
I smiled. "Wanna show me?"
He laughed, out loud, and I guess it was funny - my mimicking attempts at seduction. Instead of standing, he held out a hand to me; I stepped forward to take it, and he pulled me down until I was half-kneeling, half-sitting on the couch between his spread thighs.
Up close his eyes were even more piercing, but I was having more trouble ignoring the heat from his hand as it rested on my bare leg. His other hand was teasing through some knots in my hair, at the back just below the crown.
"Come here." And he pulled me in, hand on the back of my head guiding me to him, as our lips pressed together. Chaste, at first, and then parting slightly so that his tongue could feather against me and then dual with my own. My eyes were closed and my hands in his hair, a tight grip as I moved my mouth on his and felt his own hands cradle my head and the small of my back. He hugged me closer, the smooth material stretched across my butt sliding easily across the fabric of the couch, my legs opening wider to fit in around his own.
I'd kissed him before, but there was a new hunger now, a new level of intimacy we'd broken through to. I reached my fingers down, tracing the contours of his chest and stomach, hard behind the thin fabric of his vest. One of his hands had come to rest under my ass, squeezing one of my cheeks. In return, I dropped a hand to his groin, exploring what was hidden by the stretchy material there.
His cock was firm, thick; not quite at its hardest - a feeling I knew well, inside and out - but still more than a handful. I pressed my fingers around it, fighting the fabric of his sweatpants, tracing the broadly flared head.
"Take your shirt off" I told him, and he did, looking at me curiously as if surprised I'd taken the dominant role. His chest was as broad and tanned as I remembered it, nipples hard on top of slabs of smooth flesh. Even propped up on the couch, the tapering V of his torso was defined - narrowing tightly into the low-slung waistband. I pressed my thumbs into the etched muscle just above his hips, his skin hot to my touch.
"Am I gay?" I asked. It wasn't what I'd expected to say, but my brain obviously had other ideas. The question hung between us; Alex's forehead creased as he looked at my face, his fingers gently tracing circles across the material of my briefs.
"Does it matter? Would it change how this feels, this right now, either way?"
I knew he was right, but I wasn't happy, not completely anyway. I had eighteen years of conditioning in my head, a guy's muscles in my hands and a boner in my pants; I needed more than vague platitudes and a promise to think about it some other day instead.
"But do you think I'm gay?" I pressed him. He glanced down, then looked back up at my face; I knew he'd seen my swollen dick, was under no allusions about my arousal right now. "Alex, I don't... I don't know what's happening this week."
He pulled me in close to him, half picking me up with his broad hands under my ass cheeks, until my legs were astride his waist and his knees lifted to rest against my back. I felt a little like a child, propped up against a parent, only I could also feel this parent's erection underneath me.
"I think... I think you're finding out a lot about yourself. And I think some of what you're finding is that feelings - sexual ones - can surprise you with how strong they are, where before you didn't know they existed at all." He moved his hands up my thighs, fingertips slipping under the tight legbands of my briefs. "Now, you could say that it was pretty gay to get off on another guy touching you;" his fingers pushed further up, just grazing where my legs joined my crotch, "or you could say it was pretty gay to get fucked in the ass by another guy." I could feel his gentle touch as he brushed against the root of my hard prick. "Or, you could say that dudes do stuff with dudes and it doesn't fucking matter one way or the other."
Now his fingers were tracing the base of my shaft, one hand dug up inside my briefs and the other rubbing a thumb about my closely-held balls through the satiny material. I glanced down, to see a dark patch begin to spread where the head of my cock was clearly outlined.
"I like doing stuff with dudes" I told him, breaths getting heavier. I reached my hands down, under my ass, to tug at the waist of his sweats; they pulled up his thighs easily. His dick was hot against my butt.
"And dudes like doing stuff with you, Coop" he grinned, making tiny circles with his hips and grinding himself on me. "I like doing stuff with you."
"Tell me what you like doing with me."
He smirked, and I had a glimpse of that same animal passion he'd shown when he'd fucked me the previous day.
"I like touching your big teen cock, I love feeling it hard in my hands and knowing it's my body that's getting you horny. I like getting my fingers wet with your dick-drool and stretching your ass open with them. I love seeing the look of surprise on your face when you realise how much you like it, how much your ass wants the attention." I moaned, just slightly; the combination of his touch on my tightly-wrapped groin and his dirty, forbidden words made me shiver. Alex squeezed the head of my dick between his fingers. "I love how much you leak when I touch you, and I love knowing I can fuck the cum out of you and then make you eat it. Because I can, can't I Coop. You're desperate for me to fuck you now, to press you down and drill you until you spunk, and then you want me to make you swallow it."
I screwed my eyes up tight, reaching underneath myself to feel the thick length of him, completely hard now and throbbing against my palm.
"Maybe that's being gay, Coop. Maybe being gay isn't just wanting some guy to screw you - because I know you liked it, I know you want to get screwed right now - in front of a load of strangers. Maybe it's about wanting to be with another guy and be honest with yourself and what your body wants, how your brain wants it to be."
I didn't know if he was right; I didn't know if he was talking bullshit. All I could feel was the rush of blood to my head, and his hands on me, and the knowledge that it was me that was getting him just as turned on as I was. He tugged my briefs up to my knees, the taut fabric holding my legs together and leaving my cock gripped tightly between my thighs and my balls pushed through underneath. Instantly his fingers were on them, pulling the tightened sack away from my crotch, gently separating the churning globes with his thumb, rubbing the hardened length of flesh between them and my hole. His erection was between us, the head sticky as it touched my sweat-damp skin. With both thumbs he pulled at my tight little ass, tipping my body backward, legs still caught up in my underwear as he played with my most sensitive places.
"Cat's licked this fuck hole clean, hasn't he Coop. He sucked all the juice out - all my cum from yesterday. And then this morning, did you slip a finger in? Did you check to see if you were still tight? I can tell you now, Coop, you're still fucking tight. I can hardly get my finger in here." He pushed his fingertips in-between my thighs, smeared them around my jerking cock head, and then returned to my hole, using the slickness to ease his way in.
"I want it so bad, Alex" I half-sobbed, and he grinned, nodded at me as his fingertip broached me and the length of his digit drove up inside and made me gasp.
"I know you do, buddy, I know."
He lowered me all the way back, now; gently parting his legs so that my torso was flat on the sofa and he was kneeling up and over me. My thighs were still clamped down on my cock, his finger still kneading the flesh of my ass as he loosened my hole.
"I'm gonna take these off you now, Coop" he explained, pulling at the briefs, "and you're gonna hold your legs back and show me everything, okay?" I nodded, whimpered as I felt the bluntness of a second finger press into me.
With his free hand Alex stripped me completely, and I reached up and caught hold behind my knees and pulled my legs apart. Framed between them I could see him, stripped to where his sweats were tugged down to his knees, chest heaving as he breathed great, ragged gulps of air, eyes burning across my face, my flat stomach, my cock where it jumped and twitched in its painful hardness.
"Fuck, Coop, I could cum on you right now." I could see him giving a few casual strokes to his swollen inches, his other hand never ceasing as it probed inside me. I imagined how it would be, Alex jerking himself as he scissored open my hole, eventually leaning across the spread of my thighs and spurting juice against me. I could picture how I must look, some tight-body little teen open wide like some internet slut, yanked back legs leaving everything on show.
"Keep your legs back, Coop, while I put my dick in you." It should've sounded stupid, but I could feel my ass twitch in anticipation. Alex pulled his fingers free, wrapped his hand around his cock and pressed the wet head to my hole. For a moment all his attention was fixed down the rippled expanse of his stomach, to where he nudged against me. Then, looking up and holding my gaze, he tilted his hips forward and I felt his broad glans grind against me.
I gasped - even with the work his fingers had been doing, even after all my ass had accommodated yesterday, it was still only my second time with a guy - and he grinned, nodded minutely as he applied pressure. I felt my skin stretch, spread around his width. He leaned lower, his torso between my thighs, as the flare of his cock-head popped through my ring and he fed a few thick inches inside.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck Alex"; I was panting, trying hard not to wrap my calves around his ass and pull him closer to me. The sensations radiating out from my groin were incredible - fullness, insane heat, that same alien feeling that so confused me but which was so addictive. "More, please more."
Alex pulled his knees in close to my ass, thighs grazing my tautly stretched cheeks. I could feel another inch of him push into me, achingly slow, teasing. Eventually I couldn't hold it, hooking my heels against his buttocks and using them to drive the whole length of his dick into my ass. We gasped together, breaths heaving, as his sparsely shorn pubes ground against my balls.
"In you all the way, Coop, you're fucking taking my cock" he told me, and I growled my reply, bucked my hips up as if to get that imaginary extra half-inch inside.
He was slow, at first, gradually easing back a little and then sliding up against me again, feeling my hole dilate around his girth as my burning ass accommodated his heft. As we found our pace - him pulling further and further out, until only the head was lodged in me, and then smoothly, unrelentingly pistoning it back - I let my legs rest about his lower-back, my hands free to grip his face instead. I dragged him down, until his lips were smashed hard against my own, all semblance of innocence gone and instead a sucking, tonguing mess of passion.
"Your hole is amazing, Coop" he told me, between kisses, as I jack-knifed my ass against his thrusts. "I could fuck you forever."
He dug his arms underneath my shoulders, as I pulled my torso tight against him, then lifted us both - his prick still grinding at my prostate - until I was sat in his lap. A combination of his arms wrapped around me and my flexing legs kept me bucking on his dick. There was no pain or discomfort now, only a feeling of massive fullness and of course that heady, full-body shiver of sexual pleasure. My cock was trapped beneath us, jerking haphazardly against the ridges of our abs, slicked with precum and sweat.
I pushed him back, until he was lying against the broad arm of the shoulder and I clung to his chest, humping my body to him. While I'd quickly grown to love the weight of Alex over me, there was something about being in control, of guiding the pace of our fucking that felt incredible. From the look on Alex's face, he was getting into it too, his hands pulling at my butt to spread me further.
We tried to hold back, tried to prolong the feel of his length inside of me, of my ass clenching down on him, of my burning thighs as they teetered on the edge of cramping while I flexed them to slam myself into his lap. His arms were under my shoulders, forearms hooked back with a fistful of my hair twined in his fingers, tugging my head back. The slickness of his tongue lapped at my neck, as he buried his face against my taut skin.
"Gonna breed your hole, Coop" he gasped, punching into me with sharp, staccato growls. "Fucking cumming in your ass, dude."
I gripped the sides of his face, pulled his head up to join our lips again. His erection felt fatter now, spreading me wider. He growled into my mouth, holding me down by his iron-fingered grip in my tangled hair as his hips strained against me; I could feel him spurting inside, the instant slickness of his final strokes. With one hand still locked against my head, Alex pulled me back and, with the other, circled the bloated, throbbing head of my cock with his fingers, tugging and twisting as I hummed and twitched in his lap.
It took less than a minute - seconds, nothing more - and I burst, the pressure of his still-swollen prick at my prostate and the rough pads of his fingertips coaxing against the angry, purple flare of my knob. A hot, wet blast of spunk spurted out, spattering against his sweat-slick chest and immediately sagging down to where our groins were joined; another, and another, as his fingers plied my shaft, milking out each almost-painful blast. Then it was his thumb, brushing firmly - too hard, too much on my over-sensitive hardness - and bringing a final threadlike length of cum to my lips. The hand still at the back of my head left me no room to argue, inexorably joining finger to mouth as I suckled my juice away. And then our chests were together, his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulders.
We'd sat, cooling like ticking engines, heart-rates easing, for five minutes, Alex's thumbs tracing tiny circles on my shoulderblades. Eventually I'd shifted, coyly lifting a leg over him and separating our bodies. I wasn't sure whether the feeling down my inside thighs was sweat, his cum dripping out of my well-used ass, or simply the burn where his leg hair had rubbed against me.
"Shower" he'd told me, standing and leading me to the bathroom.
The water was hot, steam instantly billowing, and the standalone shower big enough for us both to step inside and share the spray. Somehow I felt that same blush of shyness as I had the other day; that sense that, even though Alex and I had just shared something incredibly intimate, it was still more so to be there, soaped and naked, in each others' presence.
As I washed my hair, his hands spread across my chest, fingers flexing in my armpits, shower gel easing down my body. It was sexual - everything with Alex felt sexual, somehow - but affectionate and innocent at the same time: just two guys, comfortable in each others presence; a bonding of sorts. When he took my cock in his hands I felt myself half-harden, but the uncontrollable erection held off. Instead, I leaned into him, forehead resting on his muscled shoulder, the water unable to find a way between our bodies.
I still wasn't sure that I was gay, even after all we'd just done. But, curled up with Alex on his couch, this time wrapped in bathrobes and watching some mindless film on his widescreen, I knew that - whatever my sexuality - I had feelings for him. His chuckle, the way his foot half-pressed against my calf whenever he found something funny; yes, there was obviously something physical between us, but that swell of glee in my brain that I felt when I was talking to him, those first days in the gym, still caused my head to tingle when we were around each other.
He must have noticed I was deep in thought, maybe after I missed a few obvious laughs. I turned, feeling his eyes on me.
"Always thinking, aren't you Coop." It wasn't a question, so I just grinned at him, shrugged a little. I didn't know what he'd say if I told him exactly what had been preoccupying me. Was the extent of my appeal some combination of youth, innocence and - though I blushed even to think it - a tight ass? Or was there a spark of something more? Despite our earlier intimacy, all we'd done, I couldn't think of a way to guide a conversation to somewhere safe to ask.
A handful of popcorn hit me, broke the reverie. A few pieces slipped down the front of my robe; the rest I scooped up and began to feed into my mouth. Alex smiled.
"I'll be after those few when this bowl is empty" he warned me, winking and grabbing another handful of his own. Being honest, I didn't think I'd put up too much of a fight.
===
A little shorter than the other parts, but if I waited any longer Cooper would've been in his fifties before this hit Nifty! To be honest I'm not sure where to take the story next; I know there are plenty of avenues - and plenty of boy-on-boy combinations - still open, but I'm not sure whether to pursue an Alex/Coop relationship (which, while sweet, isn't really what I feel like writing these days, despite the apparent popular appeal judging by many of the lovely emails I've had) or to take it back poolside and bring it back to its roots.
Alternatively, I've got the rumblings of some other story ideas, so perhaps it's time to let Cooper strike out on his own for a while, and I'll find some other boys to torment. I'm open to suggestions, so let me know what you think - and what you thought of part four - at the usual place, alexp336@gmail.com. Thanks!