Scotty's Tailor
By Ben C.
This story contains sexual acts between young males (t/t, oral, mast, dom). If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country, please stop reading.
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Chapter 4
Scotty flashed me a mischievous grin.
"Wanna watch me fuck Melissa?"
I got very little sleep the following night. The idea of filming Scotty fuck Melissa kept tormenting my mind. I knew it would be terribly wrong to do it without Melissa's knowledge. On the other hand, the possibility to witness a stud like Scotty show off his manly power was tempting. Melissa had already proved to be an unfaithful bitch, and it was only right to her, the other side of my conscience kept reasoning. Well, I would leave the judgment to Scotty, I concluded before falling into some restless sleep.
On Wednesday I happened to walk past the basketball court of the school yard and saw a group of jocks shooting hoops. And there was also Scotty, shirtless, dressed only in tattered jeans and his beloved hi-top Converse. The jeans were hanging so low that a great part of his white boxers was visible. A backwards turned black baseball cap kept his blond locks in place.
I decided to sit down on a nearby bench to admire the jocks. When it came Scotty's turn, he strutted confidently to the starting point and picked the ball. He stood still a while, concentrating on his performance. Then he took a few tentative steps that turned into leaps towards the ring. When he reached the ring area, he jumped up, turned his taut body around in the air and performed a perfect dunk with his back to the ring. The other guys applauded and Scotty grinned triumphantly.
Finally he noticed me sitting on the bench. After a while he jogged nonchalantly towards me and lifted his left foot to the bench, pretending to tie the laces.
"Lockers," he said and jogged back to the baseball court.
We were to meet in the old locker room again. And I knew what that meant. I cursed myself for wearing my new light-blue summer jeans for school. I should have known better.
I decided to watch the boys play for a while, as Scotty seemed to have no intention to quit the game. Eventually I got bored so I got up and headed for the old gym. I sat down on the steps leading to the locker room door. I had to wait for almost half an hour before Scotty strutted down the stairs. He was still shirtless, his tank top wrapped around his neck. He fished a key ring from his backpack and let us in, locking the door behind us.
There was no need for words, as we both knew the drill. I kneeled down on the dirty floor of the locker room and Scotty positioned himself in front of me, hands on his hips. I noticed pearly drops of sweat on his chest and in the mounds of his sixpack. I leaned closer to unbuckle his belt.
"Scotty, remember the thing I asked you not to do to me at school," I said, looking up. He smiled back at me. It was a friendly smile.
"Cumming on your face? Yeah, I remember."
"Could you please, please, promise me not to do it this time? I've got biology class next and we are going to work in teams. I don't want to smell like cum," I pleaded, pulling his zipper down.
He chuckled.
"Okay. I promise."
"Thanks."
I lowered his jeans and white Abercrombie boxers to reveal his cock and balls. I could smell a whiff of fresh sweat from the basketball game. His schlong was still soft. I leaned closer to give it a kiss. Just like the previous time, Scotty wrapped his fist around his cum-gun and started to yank it. He lifted my chin with his fingers so that he could look straight into my eyes while getting his cock hard. It was a power-trip for him. He enjoyed the possibility to get his cock sucked and the fact that he was able to make another guy do it.
After a while his cock stood in full attention. Scotty released it and put his hands back on his hips, waiting to be serviced. I knew this was going to be a quick rocks-off session, so I wasted no time, sliding his cock into my mouth. Immediately he started to make fucking motions.
I slurped Scotty's cum-cannon, wrapping my lips tight around it every time he was pulling out, so that he got some nice pressure on the very sensitive area under the crown. I slid my hands under the back of his boxers, kneading his butt muscles with my fingers.
It took Scotty only a couple of minutes to reach climax. He let out a loud "ahhhhh" so I expected to feel the familiar taste of his warm cum in my mouth any second. But suddenly he grabbed my wrists, releasing my grip of his buttocks, and pulled his cock out so it was only inches away from my face. The hard young organ sprang free and started to shoot sperm like a fire hose gone mad. In a split of a second my hair and forehead were covered with teen slime. Another attacked followed instantly, this time lower, spraying jizz on my nose and lips. I gasped, looking up.
"Scotty, you promised!"
He chuckled.
"Yeah. I lied."
He gathered his breath for a while, picked a towel from his backpack and went to the shower room to wash off. I crawled a few feet on the dirty floor so I could lean on the wall. I could hear water running in the shower room. I had a painful hard-on in my pants and my balls were screaming for relief.
Scotty came back to the locker room drying himself with the towel. He took a can of Axe from his backpack and sprayed it liberally on his body and armpits. He even flexed the waistband of his boxers to spray some into his crotch.
"Scotty, why are you doing this to me?" I moaned.
He was about to pull his tank-top on but stopped in mid-motion. He turned around to face me. He pondered his answer for a while, arranging his baseball cap to a suitable angle backwards.
"Why am I doing this to you, dude? Because I like to. And besides, you love it. Do you deny that?"
I looked down.
"No."
"Good. Because you gotta understand something. I'm doing you a favor. Look at you. You're a seventeen year old fag-boy on his knees in front of another seventeen year old kid who just fucked your face and covered it with his cum. And now you are telling me you don't appreciate that."
"I'm not saying that, Scotty," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the black and grey floor tiles.
"Well, I didn't hear you thanking me either, dude."
I took a deep breath and looked up, straight into Scotty's blue eyes.
"Thanks, Scotty."
"And that's it? Thanks for what?"
"Thanks for fucking my face and covering it with your cum, Scotty."
He flashed me his trademark grin.
"Now, that's better. You're welcome, dude."
He went silent for a while, all the time looking into my eyes, grinning.
"And when I'm gone, you're gonna jack off, thinking of me, tasting my cum. Right?"
"Right."
He paused again, then continued with a smirk:
"I bet I can make you cum without you touching your dick."
"No, please, Scotty, no," I pleaded, hoping he would just leave me there so I could get relief from my painfully aching hard-on.
But Scotty had already made his mind. He stepped closer, so that his left foot was between my thighs, almost touching my crotch. He leaned over me and placed his hands on the wall above my head. His unzipped crotch was right in front of my face. I stared at the Abercrombie logo on the waistband of his white boxers.
"You know, dude, you look like a real faggot now. You belong on your knees in front of straight boys, don't you?"
I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry.
"Yes."
"You know what they call guys who give head to other guys?"
"Yes."
"And the answer is?"
"A cocksucker."
"Correct. Now, why would a guy become a cocksucker? Normal guys don't smoke dicks."
"Because he's a faggot?"
"Yes. And what does that make you then?"
I felt completely humiliated, but being taunted like this by Scotty was a huge turn-on for me.
"A faggot and a cocksucker," I answered.
Without thinking, I moved my right hand to my crotch. But Scotty poked my hand with the dirty white tip of his Converse.
"No touching. Now tell me what you are."
I moved my hand away from my crotch.
"I'm a faggot and a cocksucker," I said.
"Keep sayin' it. And look at me."
I looked up at Scotty's grinning face. He was standing so close that I could smell his Axe cologne and feel the heat of his shirtless body on my face.
"I'm a faggot and a cocksucker. I'm a faggot and a cocksucker."
"And you love straight boy cum on your face."
"I love straight boy cum on my face."
"Go on."
"I'm a faggot and a cocksucker. I love straight boy cum on my face."
"I'm a faggot and a cocksucker. I love straight boy cum on my face."
"I'm a..."
Scotty pressed my crotch with the rubber sole of his Converse.
"I'm a faggoooooott," I yelled, coming violently in my pants.
My eyes were closed, but I heard him laugh.
"See you in class, big boy," he said and left, laughing.
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