Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/shark-reef/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.
I looked down again as Ian began to moan and growl around my meaty cock, sending trills and arpeggios through every fiber of my body and mind. I pounded on his shoulder and he mind-shouted, "Fuck Off! I'm Busy! MORE COCK!" and redoubled his efforts. It took maybe seven or eight centuries of bliss as my balls slowly, achingly, torturously climbed my shaft until I screamed in a voice that should have lit up rescue screen in Quebec, "FUUUUUUUUUUCK!" and was... gone.
Shark Reef 4: The Hangovers
By Bear Pup
I awoke when the sub came up, evil fucking nasty orb of pain that it was. I'd never gotten a real hangover from THC, but then I never smoke whatever the fuck that was. I laid there are little bits and piece of the night floated back. Talking to God, Houris, soooo wasted, soooo wonderful. Dream of the dozen dark-eyes virgins going to town on Mini Me. Man, best fucking blow job, ever. Looking down. Not twelve dark-headed virgins but on red-headed on devouring me. Wait? Red? Huh?
That's when I started to feel the rest of the world. I was on my back and there was a Lunk-Lunk shirt from shoulders to knees. I lifted my head to look down and realized that that was a Very Bad Plan. I pondered what the brief view has given before pain dropped me like a rock. Dark blue. That's the shirt. Hairy legs and feet. Me. Phenomenal girl's ass hanging out the side? Come back to that. Giant lump right over me...
And that's when the lower parts came online, and the news those nerves delivered sent me to orbit. Ian was suckling and nursing my very had, very leaky dick like it was a teat. I could hear the occasionally whimper or moan as he worked me expertly.
Have you ever gotten a blow job when insanely hung over? The pleasure as a counterpoint to the pain is exquisite, but then you realize that, at some point, you'll cum with will split your skull like a melon and you'll die is screaming torment. Then you sit for a while and finally decide... so what? What a way to die!
What didn't fit was the Ian part. This was the kid who almost had an aneurism because he spunked on my, and then wanted to die because he accidently got me off. And now he was blowing me? Like, not just blowing but whining and moaning like a desperate cheerleader? Like a footballer almost getting his first piece of cheerleader ass? Desperate and needy and fulfilled and even more desperate every moment? No matter the sacrifice, it felt wrong.
I tugged off the Lunk-Lunk blanket and the sight nearly made me cum right there. Ian was curled across me, arms clutching my leg and hip as he tried to stuff more and more of my sausage into him, licking and moaning, the sounds no longer muffled by the cloth. I reached down and shook him and he made some noise the rumbled down my shaft and had me biting my lips to hold off.
Finally, I grabbed a huge hunk of that rich, thick, red hair and pulled hard. Mini Me popped out of his mouth like a stuck drain coming unclogged, and my dick beagan to scream curses at me for doing something so evil.
"Ian? IAN!"
"Shuddup, shuddup, shuddup!" He spoke like he was in a trance, speaking in a mantra. "Go away I'm already dead and it's rude to bother dead people and I died in a plane crash and I was really good really bad really really good and now I got what I want and I'm dead so fuck off mate so I can enjoy it mrppgg..." He'd escaped my hair hold and was back on me like a lamprey.
Well, hell. Now what. I didn't have long to ponder that. Somehow the little fuck had managed to get the head of my dick right there in the aperture of his throat and was swallowing over and over and over driving me mad. Then both his hands started working my churning nut and I screamed, then screamed from the agony the scream produced and that feedback loop keep going as I blew what must have been gallons of hash-fueled jism down the spasming throat. And out went the lights.
I know that I came again, cuz I woke for the finale before passing out again. It was probably noon when I finally came all the way to consciousness. Ian was now curled, not unlike a lizard, head buried in my crotch. My movement brought him awake... more or less.
"I'm still stoned," he informed my sweaty nuts and more-or-less-limp prick.
"Probably. What do you THINK you remember, Ian?"
"Oh, God. It took forever to hit, like it wasn't anything, then WHAM I was gone. I remember us both have a chat with, um, God? Maybe. And he said you'd let me and I decided you'd let me and then I HOLY FUCK!!" He leapt off me like I was a snake, slapping his head against the taut basin of rain-filled Mylar, then cascading into the luggage. His eyes were red slits or else they would have been wide. Every other part of his face screamed dismayed terror.
"WH-wh-what are you? NO! No! It was hallucination. It was, it was," he licked his lips and tasted a huge glob of my cum there. "OH GOD it wasn't! It wasn't. Oh god." I tried to shush him. You're gonna kill me. Please don't kill me! It-it-it-it was the h-h-hash! I never. I really, really never!"
"SHUT UP GGRROOAANN!" My voice made me cry with pain, but at least the babbling stopped. "Shut up. Just... shut up. No one's killing anyone except my hangover, kid, go shut the fuck up. We'll talk about this later, but I'll say this, for someone who never-ever-ever-ever, you did a fucking hell of a job, kid." I wrenched myself up and managed not to puke. "I hate to say this, Ian, but it doesn't matter. We got work to do if we want to live. Admittedly, I'm not sure which is better right now, hangover or death..."
I dragged the stoned, horrified, confused but ultimately pliant Ian up and we set about filtering and drinking rainwater, then filling the last of the containers. I took one of the last four remaining space blankets (it had been a pack of six) and tied this one very differently. We found four trees closer together and tied it to make an extremely deep well, reinforcing the corner by gathering more 'edge' and tying a new, tighter cable-tie band around that. My goal was to hope for rain again and get enough that we might do more than simply survive.
After that, we made another circuit of the island. No new gear had washed up. It was hot and while my own hangover had burned off, it was clear that Ian's was just starting to bloom and the heat was killing him. We got to the north end of the island and I got a delightful surprise. Wave reshape islands like this constantly, and last night's rain and wind had temporarily turned one of the shallow channels into a tide pool. The water was clearer than glass, and I could see that nothing awaited us but some easily-avoided sea urchins and a school of some unidentifiable flashing minnows.
Ian was swaying, eyes actually (humorously) crossed. I simply reached down, picked him up and flipped him over my shoulder and waded into the pool. He spluttered and moaned, which I ignored. When I was sure nothing nasty was there and we were in the deepest, roughly calf-deep section, I unceremoniously dumped him. He squawked and tried to fend me off until he realized I was using the sugar-soft sand to scrub then rinse his skin. He finally got that idea and laid back.
I smacked his ass, hard, and he yelped. "Fuck that! I do you, you do me. Get to work, kid." We slowly worked each other over, luxuriating in the salty but clean feeling. I felt his hand come to my crotch and pull away as if seared.
"Seriously? You jacked it off once and sucked it off all night and now you can't touch it? Fine. Whatever. I went to push him away and he forcefully resumed, perhaps with a little too much vigor (and sand), but he scrubbed the stench and cum out of my crotch and I returned the favor. I found myself mesmerized by two totally separate and utterly connected sensations. The delicious tenderness of his ass as I scrubbed it softly, and the erotic thrill of his hand in the crack of my own ass. At the end, both of us were chubbed but neither in the mood for more.
"Come on, kid, let's get back to the shade." I'd noticed that in just the thirty or so minutes we were out, Ian was already getting pink. That could be a real problem. We got back and had a meal of stale fish and a snack bar, and drank more of the tarp-pooled water that had not fit in the bottles. He sat hunched with his back to me, and jumped when I nudged him with my foot.
"Okay, the mutual sulk is now over. We're talking about this whether you like it or not." He turned to me with a priceless expression, equal parts defiance and guilt, bravado and fear; it was like a dog trying to decide whether it was still a cringing puppy or a brave guard dog. It was the cutest, sexiest thing I'd ever seen.
Wait, what? I wasn't above getting my knob polished by whatever lips were on offer, but I wasn't gay! I didn't get turned on by a guy, especially not by some stupid facial expression! I chalked it up to residual hash and island heat and set it aside.
"Well?" He grumped his challenge.
"Let's start with night before last." I wasn't gay, but I also wasn't opposed to some mild (okay, serious) lying to get off, either, and I saw an opening here. "You humping my leg? Cummin all over me?" He scowled and blushed, then brusquely nodded once, 'it happened; acknowledged; move on'. "Do you know what you were saying, Ian?"
"S-s-s-s-saying?" Oooooo. Yeah, that one struck home. "I-I-I wasn't s-saying anything."
"Sorry, kid, but you were. I didn't catch all of it cuz you have a real accent there, but a couple phrases came through loud and clear." His eyes were huge and terrified, as if he knew what I was going to say even though I didn't. It struck me like a bolt of lightning. Let's test the waters, shall we? "Can you tell me why 'Oh, sir!' and 'Please, sir!' and 'More, sir!' kept coming up, over... and over... and over?
His mouth worked like a guppy but nothing came out. "You know, I was awake quite a while, Ian. It's why I was damn near ready to cum when you wiped me... I'd been stroking one out as well. It was pretty hot, Ian. There seemed a lot of that, too. So, Ian, truth time. Who was sir and what were you asking for more of?"
I saw it in his eyes before he tried it. He went to scurry out of the tent and run but suddenly found his legs tangled in mine and unable to move much. He threw a punch, stupid from that position and I caught it and spun him around, locking the other arm as well. "Now, now. None of that." He struggle but seemed to have lost the power of speech.
"You blew all over me, Ian, begging for more from 'sir'. Then you admitted last night when you were stoned that you blew AGAIN because it was so hot when you jacked me to orgasm. Then last night, you had my cock so far down your throat you've got pubes in your teeth." I laughed as his hand flew to his mouth just as he realized his mistake. He wilted like spinach and said nothing. He wasn't crying, which surprised me, but he had lost all tension or fight. I let him go and turned him toward me, forcing his face up to meet mine.
"Just get the beating over with. Just kill me, sir. Really, I'm ready. I can't fight this anymore. The Head Boy, the Dean, my Professor. I can't take it. I deserve it. Just, just... just do whatever." I had rarely heard such fatalism, but I knew from experience that melodrama was a default state for a lot of teens. I slapped him, hard.
"OI!"
"Oh, so you DO care if I beat the fuck out of you? I thought you said it didn't matter and you deserved it? Cut the crap, kid." That's when the waterworks really did start. I pulled him to me.
"So, you're gay?" He nodded into my chest miserably. "And you like older guys," nod, "like me," nod with redoubled sobs, "and you think I should beat you up and kill you? I'm good through the last part. Explain to me why I'd want that?"
"Because I'm sick, you fucking bastard. Because you're straight and I'm a faggot poofter queer Nancy boy! Just stop with the nice thing! GOD I HATE YOU! Why do this?" KerSLAP!!!! "OI!"
"You want to get slapped, keep talking like a whiny little bitch, Sally. Pull up your big boy board shorts and be gay. What the fuck do I care?" His hand rubbed his cheek which obviously still stung and looked at me like he'd look at a crab that just danced across his legs. 'Existential Dread' was a not-unreasonable description.
"Now, I'll admit I'd like a little warning before you, well, just dive the fuck in.
"Ian, look at me. Yeah, I'm straight with a wife and kiddies at home. But home is a kajillion miles away. I may be straight but I'm stuck on a barren damned island with little chance of rescue with a fucking cute kid with and amazing goddamned ass who loves to suck my cock! Show me the fucking downside, you little prick.
"Speaking of which, I have a couple questions." He just gawped at me like I was speaking Armenian. "How many guys you been with and what all you done? Obviously, I know about the blow job thing, but what I got to look forward to? Um, Ian? Ooooookay, I'll ask sloooooowly.
"How. Many. Guys. Have You. Been. With?"
Bizarrely, he blushed furiously and dropped his gaze and I had to wrestle it back up to meet my face. "One." Was his tiny-voiced reply.
"Just one before me?"
"No." Ian's voice was now that of a very nervous hamster.
"What?"
"One. You." His voice by this time was only slightly louder than the breeze.
"Oh. Ah, okay. So the rest of that...? Well, at least it leaves us a lot of conversation starters!"
If you want to get mail notifying you of new postings or give me ANY feedback that could make me a better author, e-mail me at orson.cadell@gmail.com
Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 25 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 17 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 18 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Off the Magic Carpet: 11 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/ Lake Desolation: 10 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Dear John Letter: 3 chapter .../military/dear-john-letter/ Shark Reef: 4 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/ Culberhouse Rules: 1 chapter .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love .../incest/in-gods-love/