MY SUMMER OF SEX WITH COWBOY
Chapter 34
By Donny Mumford
Friday morning, after a good night's sleep, I'm feeling frisky. The first thing I think about was topping that pussy boy last night. That was wildly unexpected, but yet, it was inevitable too, I suppose. I mean, sub/dom sex with prostitutes hasn't resulted in hot submissive climaxes lately. Nothing like it was when I first re-experienced bottoming. So, surprising myself, I 'topped' last night's pussy boy and, whaddya know... I had a more enjoyable, more satisfying climax than recent ones with dominant tops.
So, obviously, the newness of being a submissive bottom has faded dramatically. Sure, after five years of being a 'top,' it was a blast going back to my years as a submissive bottom, but I've always liked bottoming best. I liked topped at times too. In other words, in the past, I was versatile, and I see myself coming full circle and following that path again.
I'm exclusively a bottom for Bruce, though, 'cause he's my main man, but until he's back, I'll go both ways with other sex partners. I'll be seeing Bruce late tomorrow afternoon; although it's doubtful, we'll have sex. He wants me to bring his eight days' earnings back here to AC. That is a smart move on his part, as keeping $2400 in his pocket opens the possibilities for all kinds of nefarious endings for that money. And, if he weren't so stubborn, $2400 would be enough money to get him through the next couple of months, and he could come back with me and his money. I hold out almost no hope of him doing that because he's promised to work the three weeks. On a brighter note, Cowboy will be returning from Wildwood today. He's a great kid and, Lee is too.
Putting a Dunkin' K-cup in the coffee maker, I check the refrigerator and see we have eggs. Hmm, should I make myself a little something for breakfast? Nah, who am I kidding? I'd burn scrambled eggs or cook the yolk hard on fried eggs. Forgetting about that, I settle for grabbing the half-and-half for my coffee and leaving the eggs for Cowboy to cook. I'll get something to eat on the boardwalk.
Sitting in a rickety deck chair on the balcony, I smoke a cigarette and drink my coffee thinking about last night's sex. And, hmm, I might hook up with Randy again tonight. It was cool seeing how he turned into a submissive guy the minute I exerted myself. Well, that's his friggin' job, after all. He was good at it too, but he wasn't cute, slim, or youthful-looking, so why go back to him? Maybe, instead, I'll look online at the Atlantic City pussy boy site. I've had better luck with the online pussy boys than the street boys, and it's been hit or miss with random non-pussy-boy prostitutes, although the ones I've had sex with were all clean. Well, fuck, I wouldn't hook up with a scruffy ragtag one. Duh!
Finished my coffee and smoke; I go online and, huh, they're cheaper here than in NYC. It's $300 an hour, but only for a massage. Other, um, arrangements cost extra. Fuck that! I did that in New York, and it was too expensive even for me. That's true, but I'm excited to 'top' again. I've got a real itch to do that, and it's an itch I don't want to wait until tonight to scratch.
Haha, see, now it's 'topping' that's new and exciting. Good grief, I'm so oversexed, though... but so what? Being oversexed is fun, plus I'm helping the whoring economy. That's a profession that's been part of human society from the very beginning, and it's not ending anytime soon either. In many parts of the world, it's legal, or at least the law turns a blind eye to it. Whatever, I'll drive to the boardwalk, get something to eat, and see if there are any pussy boys wandering around. If a person didn't know better, they'd think pussy boys were unusually clean-cut young men, and clean-cut has been out of style for years.
Before doing anything, though, I need to shower and do my bathroom stuff. I do that and then get an idea. Instead of putting on a bathing suit, I'll wear shorts and bring a bathing suit with me. Yeah, I'll be a locker room customer and change into the swimsuit there. Maybe a pussy boy is stationed inside the locker room. Plus, it's ballsy of me to go in there while Richard probably is in his office. Let's see if he's ballsy enough to say anything to me.
On the boardwalk, sauntering down to the locker room, I'm feeling the excitement of doing this. The anticipation of the unknown doing something new and adventurous is a turn-on. Being able to take care of myself physically and handle most guys without breaking a sweat eliminates any hesitation for me doing crazy shit like this.
When I walk inside, I immediately recognize the counter guy as a pussy boy. He was on duty when all that shit was going down after Richard shipped Bruce to NYC. Huh, he doesn't seem to recognize me as he asks, "Locker for one?" I put a twenty on the counter, smiling and mumbling, "That's right." He hands me change from the twenty, a locker key, and a pamphlet, saying, "Please follow the rules and regulations, closing time, and whatnot you'll find described in the pamphlet."
Smiling at him again, I go, "Of course. Um, gee, I like your haircut. Do you go to a barbershop around here?" He gives me a deadeye stare, then says, "Why? You don't need a haircut." I go, "But when I do, ya know?" There are now four people behind me, a family down from Philly for a day on the beach, perhaps. The pussy boy says, "No special barbershop. Please, let me service these people." I go, "Is it possible you could, um, service me?" His eyes dart around, and then he mumbles quietly, "My lunch break begins at noon. Meet me out front, and we'll talk about it." I nod, "Cool, I'll see you then."
Nodding at him again, I walk to locker 101, noticing it's not far from Randy's locker. The family follows me a minute later, the mother and daughter going through doors to another section, one I haven't been in. The dad and young son go to a locker section one down from mine. As I change, I think about the counter boy. No, he's not cute, but he looks okay, and he's skinny and young-looking. Hmm, I'm now having second thoughts about topping. Seeing him, I'm leaning toward having him fuck me. I like little skinny guys fucking me.
I think I know why that is. This boy's body type reminds me of Lee's body... they're the same height and skinniness. As I've thought before, it would be hot getting fucked by Lee. I'd never do it with him for obvious reasons, but now I can see what it would be like by using this look-alike pussy boy. And, haha, what happened to my itch-to-do topping? Well, I want to do that too, but I admit, the counter boy got my dick vibrating. He looks young, but I know he's eighteen, or he wouldn't be a pussy boy. Actually, he looks like an innocent choirboy, but I know he's gotta be a tough sonofabitch to get through the pussy boy training.
Hmm, what's he doing working in Richard's locker room business, though? After changing into the bathing suit, I wander around the rather extensive facility on the chance I'll see another pussy boy, but I don't. While passing the counter boy on my way outside, I smile at him, and he grins back, shaking his head slightly. Oh, he doesn't want me saying anything to him, and I see why too. Richard just came out of the office and is walking toward the counter. His back is to me, but I feel a vibration in my dick from remembering his smallish body, handsome face, and huge cock.
I despise what Richard did to Bruce and me, but my dick remembers what an amazing dominant top he was. Yeah, the best one I've ever bottomed for. Huh, that's the first time I've thought anybody was better than Bruce. I rub my junk and go out the door.
With one of the locker room towels around the back of my neck, I stop at a coffee shop for a breakfast sandwich and a take-out coffee, then eat the sandwich as I'm again passing by the locker room. Staring at it, I get a twitch in my nuts anticipating the counter boy fucking me, or was the twitch more about Richard?
No, Richard is evil, and I don't want anything to do with him. That episode of my life is over. Bruce and I beat Richard at his own game, so we'll move on. I definitely want the counter boy fucking my ass, but I still have the itch to top someone, so maybe I'll look for that someone at a gay club. That'll be another 'new' thing to experience. Breaking my three-month run of bottoming last night has given me a revised outlook sex-wise.
Finished the sandwich; I'm off the boardwalk on my way to see how Markie's doing after yesterday's dramatics. When I'm at the rental booth, I need to wait for two separate customer groups in front of me, then Markie asks me, "Do you think they'll be back today?" I go, "What? No hello, no, how am I doing... nothing like that?" Markie mumbles, "Hello. Do you think they'll be back?"
Making a 'face,' I'm like, "Would you be back if you were them?" He shakes his head, half-grinning now, mumbling, "No, not if I might run into a motherfucking animal like you again." I snicker, "Yeah, that's what the guy called me just because I knocked his tooth out and dragged him face-first in the sand." Markie goes, "Jameson couldn't stop talking about it last night. He thinks you're hot. The way you kicked the shit out of those guys got him all revved up for, um, ah, you know, for him doing me."
I go, "How was it?" He snorts out a laugh and mutters, "None of your business, that's how." He unconsciously rubs his backside, then asks, "Are you renting anything today?" I go, "Mr. Business man, huh? Yeah, the same stuff I always rent." A couple of minutes later, he's screwed the umbrella into the sand and says, "You don't ever need to tip me again. Yesterday was worth more than money to me. Jameson thinks I'm a hero for getting you to bodyguard for us; I told him it was your idea, but he still gives me credit, and that feels good." I'm like, "Nah, I like tipping you. After all, until my guys come back from Philly and Wildwood, you're my best friend in Atlantic City."
He makes a face at that and then tries to ignore the ten spot I'm holding out to him, but I stop him from walking away by wrapping him in my arms, his skinny body struggling to get free for a second before sort of melding in against me without any struggling, his arms hugging around me. I hold him for like two seconds, then let go of him. He won't look at me, mumbling, "You're the coolest guy I've ever met; thanks for everything." I go, "Take your tip, bro. You earned it."
Still not looking at me, he takes the ten, mumbles, "Thanks," and trudges back through the sand to his booth. Sitting in the beach chair, a new one even though the old guy, Sam, yelled at Markie for renting me a new one yesterday; I grin, fantasizing about a three-way with Markie and Jameson. Jeez, Markie's skinny body felt good. They're too young, though.
Yeah, but the skinny counter boy isn't too young. After half an hour in the sun, I put sunscreen on and sit under the umbrella, realizing I'm doing what Bruce says to do on the beach. Ha, I didn't realize that until I'd already done it. Well, it makes sense. I remembered to leave a note in the apartment for Cowboy and Lee telling them I'd be on the beach, but I don't expect them until late this afternoon. They'll probably want to spend as much of their last day in Wildwood as they can get away with.
After relaxing for forty minutes, I go in the ocean for a mile swim but don't push it. Coming out on the beach, I'm guessing it took maybe forty minutes to swim the mile. Not a great time, but I'm feeling loose and invigorated, inhaling deep breaths as I sit on the beach chair. Then I'm like, holy shit... what time is it? Checking my cell phone and, whew, it's eleven-thirty. I'm meeting the pussy boy counter attendant at noon. After drying in the sun, I take my time walking up to the boardwalk, going past the ramp, then up the ramp to saunter down to the locker rooms.
It's only five of twelve, so I lean on the beachside railing and watch the door of the locker rooms. The counter boy comes out and looks around, then sees me over here and starts toward me. Ha, I figured it was fifty-fifty he'd follow through. Like Lee, this guy is about five-foot-seven and weighs maybe a hundred and fifteen pounds. He has brown hair and hazel eyes, but, as I said, he isn't especially cute.
Walking right up to me, he goes, "I didn't know if you were serious. Let's get off the boards." I shrug, and he reaches up and grips the back of my neck, saying, "We need to get away from here," and, as we start walking, he adds, "My car is parked close to the next ramp." I go, "Uh-huh," and he's like, "Dude, I'll need a hundred dollars upfront, and right now if you'd come across with it that would be good." He's stronger than he looks, and his grip on my neck... well, I guess he's basically imitating what he's experienced and been trained to do, but he's squeezing harder than he needs to. If I were a little bit taller, he couldn't reach my neck, and I don't know what he'd do then, heh-heh.
Passing a hundred-dollar bill to him, he takes it and slides it into his pocket as if he's done it many times before. Leading me across the boards, approaching the ramp to the street, he goes, "I'm assuming since you asked me to 'service' you that you want me to fuck you, right?" I mutter, "Uh-huh, right." He mutters, "Jesus; you'll be the biggest best-looking dude I've ever fucked. Um, you'll get your money's worth, though, so don't worry about that." I go, "I'm not worried."
After going down the ramp, we walk a block, cross the street, and stop at an old Chevy Camaro, maybe a 1995-96 model. He lets go of my neck, saying, "I use an abandoned garage two blocks from here. Get in." Goddamn, he reminds me of Lee even more now that I'm looking at all of him instead of just from the waist up when he was behind the counter. He has Lee's skinny arms and legs. And, hmm, his mouth and chin are similar to Lee's too, plus they both have bow-shaped lips. The big difference is, this guy has the pussy boy confidence, whereas Lee's is a sweet, unassuming kid who Cowboy is trying to teach to be a smart-ass... which is kind of funny to see.
When we're in the car, I ask, "What's your name?" He starts the engine, mumbling, "We're not supposed to tell our name, but I think that's dumb. I'm Jon Scheyer. What's your name?" I go, "Ricky Henderson." He mutters, "Bullshit," and pulls away from the curb.
He drives into an abandoned garage two blocks away. The wide-open barn-like doors hang off rusting hinges to each side. Turning off the engine, he says, "If you want to suck my dick, I'll pour a good load of cum down your throat, but it'll cost you another fifty bucks. Then we'll wait until I reload, about twenty minutes or so, and I'll give you the hundred dollar fuck you've already paid for. Whaddaya say?"
Wow, this choir boy is an optimist. I like his style, although I didn't expect this aggressiveness, so I hesitate, and he adds, "Or, just the fuck." I go, "No, I like your idea. I'll do it," and I fish a fifty-dollar bill out of my shorts and give it to him, mumbling, "I wish we could do it naked, but obviously not, um, here." He goes, "Hmm, ah, ya know shat? I'm gonna take a chance on you. I share an apartment with three other guys. It's two blocks from here. We can get naked there, but I need to charge you another fifty bucks." I go, "Deal! Let's do that," and I give him another fifty, adding, "There likely will be a nice tip for you later too."
Starting the engine, he says, "Damn, this is awesome. Normally, I'm lucky to hook up twice a week blowing old dudes with old limp dicks and now you're like a hot fantasy come true. How old are you anyway?" Ever since that guy said I looked twenty-three, that's the lie I tell anyone who asks. I mean, now that I'm hanging out with younger guys, I almost believe I'm twenty-three again. It's cool, so I tell him, and he goes, "That's what I thought."
Backing out of the garage, he says what others have said. He goes, "Um, but why do you need to pay for sex? I'm glad you are, don't get me wrong, but don't you realize how hot you are?" I go, "Picking up guys is not easy, Jon. I've got the money, and I like picking out who I want to enjoy sex with. It's way more convenient paying for it too. And, I've had some good experiences with you pussy boys, so that's what I do."
He stops at a red light, mumbling, "I'm glad you chose me, thanks." I chuckle, saying, "No problem. Um, you don't as arrogant as most of the, um, the guys I've paid for." He says, "We call ourselves escorts. To be honest, though, I'm not an escort yet. I'm still in training, so I haven't gained the confidence yet to be arrogant. I'm mostly grateful when I get a paying customer." I'm like, "You're still training?" He nods, "Yeah, I only finished three weeks before my mentor, Eli, sent me back to Richard. He said I complained too much about some of the shit he was making me do, and another thing too." What the fuck?
I can't think of anything to say to that without giving myself away. In my limited experience with Eli, he seemed to be a less aggressive mentor than Bruce was. When I don't say anything, Jon looks at me and says, "I'm only half-trained as a pussy boy, but Richard thinks enough of my potential to give me the locker room job, but only until he can assign me to another mentor. You won't be disappointed with me. I'll fuck you up pretty good; you'll see."
He pulls over to the curb, looks at me, and asks, "Are you okay with this?" I go, "Oh, yeah, sure. It's just that I'm surprised they allow you to service dudes on the side." He goes, "I'm not supposed to, but I need the money. Please don't mention me doing this to anyone." Shrugging, I mumble, "Mum's the word." Jesus, the weird situations I get myself into. Well, everybody has a life story, and no one's story is the same; plus, I don't care that he didn't finish that horseshit training. Jon is much nicer than those who finish the program, so it's a plus he hasn't finished.
We get out of the car, and he immediately comes around to grip behind my neck. That makes me grin 'cause it's so stupid. As we walk up to the front door of a rowhouse, he says, "One of my roomies, Benny, will probably be here, but he'll ignore us." We go inside, where Benny does not ignore us. He says, "Jesus Christ, Scheyer, where'd you pick this hot stud up?" Jon goes, "Shh, just ignore us," and he pushes me past Benny.
Benny is lying on the sofa watching a soap opera eating Frosted Flakes from the box. He's wearing only jockey-style underpants, exposing his gross, very hairy pudgy body. He scratches his nuts and mumbles, "Peanut has someone in your room, Jon. You can use mine if you want." Jon mutters, "Dammit," then, "Thanks, Benny," and pushes me to the door across from a closed-door, mumbling, "Peanut is my roommate. He does occasional street pick-ups too, but he has a job at a gas station as well." Whatever...
This rowhouse is old and very run down, which isn't surprising. What is odd is this joint smells like tomato soup, and then Benny's room smells like BO. Both twin beds are unmade, sheets and blankets in a tangled mess, visible stains on the sheets... Jesus! Taking his hand off the back of my neck, Jon nods at the bed on the right, saying, "Our best bet is Corndog's bed. Benny is a slob, and I wouldn't use his bed on a dare." Both beds look equally uninviting to me.
Jon starts undressing, telling me, "I have an hour and a half lunch break, so we've got plenty of time." I'm still gawking at Corndog's bed when Jon smacks my ass, saying, "Get undressed. This was your idea." Hmm, if I knew about the beds, I may have suggested something else.
Glancing at his bare, hairless, skinny torso, I get a twitch in my dick and mumble, "Oh, yeah... I should get undressed." It takes me ten seconds to pull off my T-shirt and get out of the swimsuit, and Jon goes, "Nice body!" I try not to look right at his junk, but I can't help myself and look right at it. To divert attention from that, I do a fake cough covering my mouth, then ask, "How old are you, Jon?" He says, "Nineteen, and I know I look younger than that. If I were allowed to let my beard grow, I'd look my age." No, he wouldn't.
Okay, average package on this pussy boy. Nice plump five-inch penis with balls as big as mine, all hairless. He says, "You, um, don't have pubic hair." I mutter, "I know. You don't either, so we're even." He makes a face, "Yeah, but..." I go, "I'm imitating you guys." He asks, "Um, oh. Ya know, I've got an idea. Maybe you'd like to try qualifying to be one of us. In my free time, ah, I could give you a headstart on the training for a nominal fee. You'd have a better chance of qualifying that way."
Suppressing another grin because he seems so cluelessly innocent, I mumble, "Um, I don't think so, but thanks for the offer. I'm kinda anxious to suck your nice dick, so..." He says, "Sure, but you think about my offer, okay? It's rough training, but I wouldn't overdo it, and it definitely would set you up for success." Then he looks at Corndog's bed and says, "Straighten up the bedding, Ricky. Um, let's see. You can suck me off while I'm lying on the bed. You're too tall, so It'd be awkward for you if I'm standing and you're on your knees."
They're all bossy, pussy boys are. I pull the blanket and foul-smelling top sheet off the bed, tighten the fitted sheet and plump up the pillow. Jon lies his shinny ass on the bed, the back of his head on the blood-dotted pillowcase, then he pulls his feet up and spreads his legs. His average-sized package looks larger than it is between his skinny legs. The hairlessness making it look clean, and I'm just now noticing he has some good muscular definition in both his skinny legs and arms, and his torso reminds me of a gymnast--nice little body on Jon. I didn't expect that.
He says, "Get on your knees between my legs. Let's go!" That was a cute effort at dominance, although I don't feel even slightly submissive. I was going to pretend he's Lee, but that makes me feel like a pervert, plus Lee's body can't compare with Jon's. Lee's pretty much just skinny without the definition Jon's body has. I blank my mind about any further thoughts of Lee and concentrate on the surprising body of my half-trained pussy boy.
And, I actually kind of like this kid. He's trying his best to be a confident pussy boy top, so I'll go along with him and pretend he is. I'm on my knees between his legs, trying hard to ignore the BO in the room. Supporting myself with a hand on either side of Jon, I lean down and lick his belly where pubic hair would normally be, then inhale a nice scent coming off his skin. That's a relief.
Licking all around his cock gets Jon squirming on the bed and pulling my hair a little. Yeah, the hair on the top of my head has grown out some and is now long enough that he can get some of it in his fist. Mmm, Goddamn, he smells good. I rest my face right on his belly, then take a hand off the bed to put his cock's head in my mouth. I lick it and suck on it getting his cock hard enough that I can start bobbing up and down on it; my lips covering my teeth, are putting pressure on the shaft, and, oh man, his dick gets really hard, really fast. Moaning, he lifts his ass off the bed, groaning, "Um, um, ooh, ahh, ahh."
Afraid he'll blow his load too soon, I go back to sucking the head and do some light squeezing on his nuts. More moans, "Oh, ooh, ooh," from Jon while my cock has gotten brick-hard. Jon does a lot more squirming as a long drool of precum slides out onto my tongue. Lifting my hand off the bed again, I pull his boner out of my mouth and lick each of his nuts, then lick all over his scrotum. It's challenging because he's constantly moving on the bed, pulling my hair hard now. I strain my eyes to the top of their sockets and look at his face. His eyes are closed tightly; his face scrunched up with a red spot on each cheek as he moans some more, "Mmm, oooh, Jesus..."
With his pleasant scent in my head, I lick the insides of both thighs, then get my tongue under his scrotum to lift it. He lifts his ass more, and I almost reach his asshole with my tongue, his hard cock up against my face, the head almost to my forehead. Then he humps his hips, makes a screeching sound, and blows his load. Dammit! I wanted to swallow that, so I grab his cock to suck out drools of cum. The main shot of his climax went past my forehead in the direction of Jon's head.
I'm right on the verge of blowing my load, still sucking on his cock as it loses its boner status. Jon gasps, pushing at my head, so I back off his cock. Sitting up, slurping on the few cum dripping I got after the big load blew over Jon's head, I say, "That was fun!" Jon's trying to catch his breath, his face somewhat red. He sees me looking at the wall behind him, so he turns his head and looks at his cum shot that flew over his head to hit the wall and is now slowly running down it. Naturally, the bed has no headboard.
He points at my boner, snickers, then says, "Seriously, you get hard from sucking me off? Anyway, that was one of the best climaxes I've ever had. You're a really good cock sucker, and, obviously, sucking cock gets you seriously aroused. That's kinda cool. Hell, you could be even better at sucking cock with some training. You'd make a lot of money for your man with that mouth, that tongue too... wow!"
Shrugging, I mutter, "Gee, thanks. Yeah, I get hard sucking cock and usually blow a load myself." He goes, "I sort of borrowed a video from Eli about advanced cock sucking. If you wanna try having me mentor you, I'll let you watch it." Haha... trying not to laugh, I go, "Ya know, I might consider it even though I don't need the money. I think it would be fun getting trained by you." Looking serious, he nods his head, then busts out laughing. Pointing at me, he goes, "I'm just breaking your balls. I knew who the fuck you were when you rented the locker. You're that guy training with Bruce Dunlop when he got sent to New York for retraining. You came in a smacked Richard around. Everyone liked hearing about that."
Snickering, I mutter, "Busted again. I can't get away with anything." He goes, "What? You got away with plenty the way you rescued your mentor. Richard doesn't want any of us pussy boys talking about it. He's insanely pissed about the whole thing and, I guess, humiliated." I'm like, "Glad to hear that. Um, I noticed Richard walking up to you at the counter when I was leaving. Did you tell him I was just there?" Jon's casually playing with himself, mumbling, "Hell, no! He doesn't want to hear your name or Dunlop's name mentioned. What is your real name, by the way?"
I tell him my name, and he asks, "So, where's Bruce now that you've got him out of the club?" I tell him Bruce is staying with me, and he looks shocked, asking, "So whaddya need me for? I mean, if Bruce is anything like Eli was, he's still fucking you three or four times a day." Shaking my head, I go, "Nah, he's got a job in Philly. He's been there a week. I'm horny, and when I saw you, I took a chance and asked you to service me because you're a hottie." He smiles, "You're a nice guy for saying that. Most of the older men I get as Johns see how little I am, see my beardless babyface, and they pay me to suck them off, or they fuck me with their old cocks. You, my friend, are a breath of fresh air for me like you wouldn't believe!"
Nodding, I mumble, "Good! I enjoyed sucking and licking your young dick, so we're both happy. Actually, I'm surprised older men wouldn't want to do that." He shrugs, "Yeah, that surprised me too, but the men who I've managed to attract are only interested in me sucking their limp dicks... sucking them off in the garage for fifty bucks and no tips."
I go, "That blows," no pun intended. He chuckles and then waves his hand for me to come up the bed, saying, "C'mon, lie with me while I get recharged. We'll pretend I'm your mentor." I crawl up the BO-smelling sheet, thinking how it was an ass-smelling sheet last night and now a BO-smelling sheet; what am I doing wrong?
Jon holds his arm out the way Bruce did during my training, but it's even more awkward because Jon is smaller than Bruce. Lying against him with his arm around the back of my neck is ludicrous because I'm so much bigger than him.
He goes, "That's it, lie against your man. I'll be your man for the rest of my lunch break." He's doing his best to be the man, the dominant top guy, but it's quite laughable. Yeah, it is, but I'm getting a big kick out of it too 'cause I like him. And, sure, I'm encouraging him by saying that horseshit about if he could be my mentor, I might do it. The same lies I told Bruce. I'm incorrigible, but if it helps Jon's ego, that's not a bad thing, right?
Jon goes, "Ya know, you're a big handsome, strong dude, but I recognize that you like the 'sub' part of sub/dom sex." I shrug, mumbling, "Sometimes, yeah," and he says enthusiastically, "Yeah, I thought so, and I can pick up your training where Bruce left off." I go, "How the hell could you do that when we both had three weeks of training?" He says, "Because I'm much more dominant than you are. I'll do the dominant part really well. That's what you want, right?" Smiling to myself because this guy is trying his balls off to get me to reconsider his earlier offer to be his unofficial trainee. I give him credit for trying and, heh heh, wonder what his nominal fee would be. Mostly, though, I'm wondering if he can even pull off a good fuck, never mind the mentoring nonsense. I'm kinda doubting he can, but hoping I'm wrong.
Lying here on this smelly bed, Jon pries me for details of the pussy boy escape, as he calls it. There's no reason not to be honest about it, so I give him a brief overview of what happened minus most of the sex I had along the way, and he says, "So, it was mostly luck that you found the place?" I nod, "Yep, mostly, but I asked enough questions of the couple of pussy boys I hired that I was able to narrow it down to Brooklyn."
He turns his head to look at me, saying, "Weren't you scared going in there alone without any sort of weapon?" Shrugging, I mumble, "Being scared never entered my mind. I'm kind of a tough motherfucker. Um, did you know I was a Navy Seal?" He shakes his head, "No, but being in the Navy, you don't need to be tough. Marines, maybe, but the Navy guys aren't necessarily tough guys. Right?" I go, "Being in the Navy and being a Navy Seal are two totally different things."
To change the subject, I'm like, "What kind of a life did you have that made you think being a pussy boy was a better alternative?" He pulls me against him more, muttering, "Lean over on me more and be more docile. I know you want to." Haha, he's playing the mentor role, insisting I act more submissive to my man exactly as Bruce did it, and both of them are much smaller than I am. His shinny body feels good, though, so I try accomodating him as much as I can without smothering him.
When he's satisfied that I'm docile enough, my forehead against his cheek, he says, "Well, I was a high school dropout working at a grocery store collecting shopping carts from the parking lot. Ya, know, getting paid minimum wage. One day Eli stopped me and came right out asking me if I was gay. Shit that shocked me so much I told him I was and asked how he knew? He said it was obvious and that he had a job for me that could make me rich. He has a lot of charisma, ya know? He took me right off the parking lot and fucked my brains out, and I quit the job that afternoon. That's all there was to it. I wanted to please him so much it was nuts. Then he dumped me for complaining too much."
I like how his skin smells, so I do a big inhale, then ask, "What did you complain about?" He shrugs, "Lots of things, but mostly I was pissed that he was only fucking me once a day with his dick and then two or three other times every day with big dildos. Fuck that, ya know?" I'm like, "That's what you mostly complained about? How about all the stupid humiliating training shit?" He goes, "Oh, sure, that ridiculous, but I laughed at most of it. Eli did too. No, I wanted him to fuck me more, um, the normal way 'cause I guess I sort of fell in love with him. I think I still am in love with him." Huh, maybe there's some psychological shit in the training that made me fall in love with Bruce. I've wondered about that before.
Jon looks at me again, saying seriously, "If you'd be my unofficial recruit, I'm thinking that after a couple of weeks putting you through the training, that would impress Eli enough so he'd take me back as his recruit; take us both." I go, "Sorry, but you're going to need to forget that pipe-dream, Jon. I like you, though, and I'll help you out financially by hiring you until Bruce gets back." He says, "Hell, c'mon, try being my recruit for a couple of days. I'll be fucking you for free. Right after I earn my hundred bucks today, that is. All you need to do is get an extremely short haircut; then, I'll meet you back here at four-thirty. That's when my shift is over at the locker room. You should probably use the hair dissolver, too, as I'll be doing a full-body inspection before beginning your training. You'll be done your first retraining day by ten-thirty tonight."
That would be fun for a couple of days, but I'm not doing it. I mean, what would Bruce think? I say, "Believe it or not, I'm bored enough with Bruce away that I actually think that would be fun to do with you, Jon, but my man Bruce would have a shit fit if he found out. I can't take that chance." He goes, "Please, he won't find out." It's so fucking tempting I need to put a stop to the possibility. So, sitting up, pulling away from his arm, I go, "What part of no don't you understand, Jon? I'm trying to be nice about rejecting your offer."
Seeing I'm getting aggressive, he immediately goes submissive, saying, "Yes, you're very nice about it. I understand, and I won't nag you about it anymore. Now, please gets submissive again. C'mon, and I'll give you a good dominant fuck in about ten minutes or so. I'm getting more and more recharged by the second." Eli's training was pretty good because Jon goes from submissive to dominant and back to submissive, reading my changing moods; me being his client, so to speak.
Settling back down against his side, I mumble, "Sorry for getting upset." He puts his arm around me again, although it doesn't go all the way around me. He says, "Put your head on my shoulder. I probably should give you a spanking for that outburst." I go, "No, you probably shouldn't." He pats my shoulder, "Calm down; I'm not going to do that." No shit.
Now I'm having a hard time even pretending he's dominant, but I still want him to fuck me, so I pretend to be grateful, muttering, "Well, you're my man this afternoon, so I guess I'd need to accept a spanking if you felt I needed one." He goes, "One more outburst like that last one, and you'll get one too." Not really.
We don't talk for a minute or two, then he says, "Okay, it's time for me to earn my money," and takes his arm from around me, adding, "Get on your stomach and slide down until your pussy ass is at the end of the mattress, then bend and spread your legs with your asshole poking up a little. That will be the perfect height for me to do you properly. Let's go, move it!"
My face is right on the smelly sheet when I do that, but few things are perfect. And, of course, he smacks my ass as hard as he can, saying, "Push your ass up a little more and hold it there." Well, I did get a tiny taste of a submissive little thrill for a second as I do what I'm told. That's cool. I'm just trying to enjoy myself and have a little sexy fun with this pussy boy. He's rustling around with something, so I look back and see he's picked up his pants and going through the pockets, saying, "Goddammit. Um, do you have a condom? I thought I had one, but..."
I'm like, "Ah, that would be, no. I don't carry condoms in my swimsuit." He spits on his fingers and wipes it on the head of his cock, then strokes it and does it again, mumbling, "Nevermind, I'll do you bareback. You're safe, right?" I go, "Yeah, I am, but how about you?" He says, "I was tested two weeks ago, and I haven't had unprotected sex since then, or before the test for that matter, so, yeah, I'm safe." I go, "What about lube?" He says, "My spit will do," and then he goes, "Get your face back on the sheet. You don't question your man! You've been trained better than that, haven't you?"
Ha! I mutter, trying to keep the humor from my voice, "Um, yeah, for my man, but you're not exactly..." He again spits on his fingers, smears it on his dick, strokes himself, and mutters, "Oh, yeah, I'm not your man, huh? Well, I'm the one who has you spread-eagled on the bed with your asshole poking up begging for me to fuck it, so, right now, yeah, I am your man," and he thrusts his cock in past my sphincter. I screech out, sounding like a cat whose tail just got stepped on, "OWWW! Oh, fuck..." Goddamn, that boner feels a lot bigger than his dick was when I sucked him off!
Pain ballons in me as he pushes that unlubricated hard penis inside me. A second later, he's tight against my buttocks, humping against me, saying, "Keep your pussy up!" and "Smack!" rings out as he smacks the side of my ass, then again, "Smack!" I push my buttocks against his crotch, trying to get it up a little. My rectum is screaming in pain as I grit my teeth and begin dealing with it. Jon pulls his five-inch hard cock back and rams it in again, and the pain balloons bigger than the first time. He goes, "Who's your man now?" I grunt out, "Ow, dammit. I guess you are." It's a throbbing pain, but my ass has been tenderized by a lot bigger cocks than Jon's, and I can feel the pulsating pain lessening second by second.
When he pulls his boner back and thrust it in again, I go, "Um, ow..." He leaves it in my ass, asking, "Who did you say your man is?" I mutter, "You, Jon. Okay, for Christ's sake?" The pain throbs, but it's bearable now. I adjust my position on the stinky bed, pushing my ass up a little, and he mutters, "That's better. Keep it there." No more than fifteen seconds have passed from his first thrust till now, and the level of pain has dropped so much, by comparison, it's almost as if I'm feeling pleasure sensations.
I'm not, though, and that becomes obvious when he does a half-dozen steady thrusts, the last one bringing on actual pleasure sensations. Just from my prostate so far, but the pleasure overwhelms the last of the pain, and I go, "Oooh. Ummm." Jon doesn't do the thrusting from different angles as experienced pussy boys do, but now that my anus has settled down and accepted the size of its opening, the pain from nerve endings around my anus turns into pleasure ones joining the pleasure coming from my prostate, and it's all smooth sailing now.
The pleasure seems intense compared to the initial pain, and the slapping sounds of Jon's crotch steadily hitting against my buttocks completes the picture of a delightful ass fucking. It's three, four, five minutes of feeling so good I find myself in a mantra of, "Ahh, ahh, ahh, oh... Ummm, yeah." Not spectacular, but just feeling really good with my climax taking its time building. Then Jon pulls his hard boner out completely and says, "Turn over. Get on your back and pull your legs out of the way," I docilely do what I'm told because there's a good feeling inside my rectum.
On my back, I don't smell the BO sheet nearly as much, which is an obvious plus. I'm anxiously waiting to feel Jon's hard cock inside me again, but he goes, "Pull 'em back harder." My arms around each leg, I pull on them so hard my back curves as my asshole comes up higher. He squeezes my butt cheeks, spreads them, and then rubs the pad of his thumb across my stretched open anus, making the lips quiver, and I go, "Umm, go ahead, Jon." He murmurs, "You want more, is that it?" He rubs around my opened asshole, and the lips quiver so much all the muscles in and around my rectum clench tightly. I groan, "Ahh, ooh..." He asks, "Who's your man?" I grunt, "You are Jon. You're my main man." His hard cock tightly slides up inside my ass, and I let out a long, "Ahhhhh... Ummm... Yeaaaah, Jon, fuck my ass..."
Then it's fast, steady, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds ringing out in the room and pleasure sensations flowing from my rectum. I rock slightly back and forth on my curved back with every hard fast thrust of that pleasure-giving boner with me pulling back on my legs as hard as I can, moaning, "Oooh," with each thrust of his hard cock. My climax starts to build again as Jon grunts out a breathy, "Umpt," with each thrust. My cock, hard as a rock by now, points defiantly straight at my chin, throbbing as the piss slit quivers getting ready to spew out my load.
Jon's tight against my buttocks, his face scrunched up as he goes, "Ahhh!" and fills me up with his semen. I make a squealy sound, letting go of my legs that go straight out on either side of Jon, my cock lifting and blowing a long stream of cum in an arch that mostly lands over my left shoulder with spray and a little of the tail end of the arch hitting my shoulder. Jon goes, "Oh, God, that felt good," and he thrusts a few times in my sloppy rectum before pulling out.
Vibrations of pleasure last a few seconds, and then a quick flood of after effects make my shoulders shudder, then I shudder again. Jon says, "Pull your legs back again." I do that, and he slides his cock back inside me as we both moan quietly, "Ooh, aah." His cock slides smoothly in his semen, and he really gets into fast thrusting for at least five minutes, and I'm beginning to feel another climax building when he pulls out, muttering, "Nah, I guess two climaxes in an hour are all I got in me." He smacks my ass, asking, "Did you get your hundred dollars worth."
Letting go of my legs, I nod, "Yep, that was good." His cum was splattering on my buttocks from his thrusting, and now the rest is drooling out as I sit up and let more of it drool out on the bed to join the dried cum on the sheet. Jon's cock is shiny with cum as he reaches over to grip the back of my neck, saying, "C'mon, we'll clean in the bathroom." I had a good climax, and that was a good fuck everything considered. He doesn't have a large cock, and there was no real lubricant, but he did a fairly dominant job of fucking me, so I still feel docile and go with him.
He needs to reach up to keep his hand on my neck, marching me naked to the bathroom right past Benny, who calls out, "Hey, from the sounds you made in there, somebody got fucked up good." Jon says, "That would be this big hunk, right?" I mutter, "Yep," and Jon sort of pushes me into the small bathroom. Without thinking about what I'm doing, I wet a hand towel, clean Jon's cock, and then dry it. He mumbles, "Good... that Bruce guy did one hell of a good job training you."
I had to think for a second before realizing what he means, then I shake my head and chuckle when I realize what I just did. He says, "Clean yourself up, and while you're doing that, consider how big a tip you might want to give me. I'll be getting dressed." He leaves, and I use the same hand towel to wipe his cum off my buttocks. I'm smiling as I do it because Jon takes the 'my man' shit very seriously. What the hell, though? That was fun, and it was a pretty good fuck too. Jon being small of stature with an average size penis made it even more fun for me. I can't say I felt particularly submissive, but I got docile for him. It was the change in position from my stomach to my back that made the difference. That was cool of Jon.
When I walk naked out of the small bathroom, I bump into a guy with women-length hair to his shoulders, who goes, "Who the fuck are you?" I'm like, "Peanut?" He goes, "How'd you know my name?" Jon comes out of Benny's room wearing shorts, saying, "He's my John, Peanut. Pretty hot, huh?" Another guy, about thirty-five, walks out of the bedroom, asking, "What's going on?" I sidestep them and go into the room where my clothes are as Jon fills them in. Obviously, Peanut had sex with the older guy, and Peanut doesn't look very young himself. He could be in his early twenties or early thirties... with some guys, you just can't tell.
I feel pretty good, but now I want to get out of this unpleasant little apartment and these uninteresting guys. Jon is the best looking of the lot, which isn't saying a whole lot. He and I walk out, and I take a deep breath of fresh air, trying to clear my head of the BO smell. I put my hand on Jon's shoulder, saying, "Really nice job. Thanks, my man," and give him a fifty-dollar bill. He grins, mumbling, "Thank you. Ya know, I could actually be your man for real. Hell, I was for a while there. How about it? Do you wanna be my recruit?" This boy is delusional and persistent about it...
Pretending to consider it, I go, "If I were going to get back into it with anyone, it'd be with you, Jon. I'm not feeling it, though. Sorry." He nods, muttering, "Well, you made me feel good saying I'd be your man if you decide to go for it. You think about it. I'm on the counter at the lockers five days a week, so you know where to find me." I say, "How about tomorrow during your lunch break? Could I have an encore?"
He pretends to think about that, then asks, "Same as today, um, same rates and all?" I go, "Sure, but do you think you could change the fucking sheet on the bed?" He says, "Oh, we can't go to the apartment Saturday. That's Peanut's birthday, and he's got friends coming over to celebrate. I can get away, though, so I'll do you in the car in the garage. For fifty bucks less, of course. I know you like the submissive shit, so as a bonus, I'll be more dominant on your ass. How would that be?"
Christ, I almost laugh in his face, but I don't because I like him. Nodding, I mumble, "I'll leave that up to you." Outside the lockers, we slap hands, and he goes, "Um, do me a favor and get the pussy boy haircut before tomorrow. It'll make everything seem more real. I'll let you rim my ass if you do." This time I do snort out a laugh, then pretend it was a cough, saying, "Nah, I'm not going to do that, but I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for, um, lunch." He points at me, "Get the fucking haircut! I'm not kidding around about that." Jesus, I'm trying to bolster his ego, and he's getting carried away. And, hell, it's only fifty-fifty I'm even coming back for the encore.
Walking off the boardwalk, I chuckle to myself, thinking again that I had fun with him, and he gave me a pretty damn good fuck too. Tomorrow I'll be driving to Philly but not until late in the afternoon and probably not for sex with Bruce. So, maybe I will hook up with Jon tomorrow. It's convenient, and I don't want to be wildly horny meeting Bruce and knowing he won't do me.
On the beach, heading for my chair and umbrella, Markie calls out to me, "Your friends are on the beach, so I'm not your best friend in AC anymore." I grin at him as I walk by, surprised Cowboy is here but looking forward to seeing him. Lee too.
And, there they are, lying on a beach blanket with identical haircuts, compliments of Lee's dad. Lee's head is on Cowboy's shoulder, Cowboy's arm around the back of Lee's neck, flaunting the fact they're gay boyfriends, and if someone doesn't like it, they can take a flying fuck off the Steel Pier for all Cowboy, and Lee cares about it. The ocean breaking on the shoreline and the sounds of others on the beach cover the faint sound of me walking up to where the boys are lying. I stare at them for a few seconds, feeling jealous again that I wasted being nineteen trying to be like Ronny when I was nothing like him. So stupid...
I go, "Could one of you queer boys tell me where I can get a haircut like yours?" Both their heads turn to look at me. They both grin as they scramble to their feet. Cowboy hugs me, saying, "Zach, what's up, bro?" We do a fast kiss on the lips, and I hold out my other arm to hug and kiss Lee, who says, "Hey, you're letting your hair grow." I squeeze him against my side thinking of Jon and how similar he and Lee are, minus the muscle definition in Lee's arms and legs.
We let go of each other, and I tell Lee, "Yeah, my boyfriend is giving me haircuts now, and he's letting me grow out the hair on top. How do you like it so far?" Lee nods, mumbling, "Cool," and Cowboy says, "I like Bruce, but he bosses you around too much, Zach." I go, "Do you mean the way you boss Lee around?" He wraps his arms around Lee, saying, "He likes it. Doncha, Lee-baby?" Lee says, "Yes, daddy," and they both laugh as I go, "Jesus, gag me with a fuckin' spoon!"
We've got a few frowning stares from people in the vicinity but have learned to ignore them. Sitting on our rented beach chairs, Cowboy asks, "Have you heard from Bruce?" I tell him what I'll be doing tomorrow, and he says, "That's smart of Bruce to have you hold his first eight days pay for him." Lee mutters, "Holy shit. Do you mean he made $2400 in eight days? I wish I could get a job like that."
Cowboy, who has his arm around Lee's shoulders, says, "Baby, you don't need to worry about money. I'm rich." Nodding at me, he adds, "We're both rich." Lee goes, "Oh, yeah, that's right. When we're married, you'll take care of me." Cowboy goes, "Yeah, a guy needs to take care of his wife." Lee mumbles, "Not too many wives do the fucking though, so..." Cowboy says, "I already told you, I'm gonna fuck you once a month when we're married." They both laugh their balls off as I roll my eyes.
Lighting Marlboro cigarettes, Cowboy and I smoke with Lee waving his hand at the exhaled smoke muttering, "Second-hand smoke is harmful." Cowboy goes, "Shh, baby, you don't want daddy to spank you, do you?" Lee says, "I do all the spanking. Whaddaya talking about?" They giggle as I watch a man and woman pushing their young baby girl down the beach in a stroller.
Lee says, "Modern humans have been around for like five to seven million years. So, how long did it take them to invent the wheel?" I shrug, "That's something I never in my life wondered about." Cowboy says, "About 90,000 years ago, previous versions of modern humans first used tools and 12,000 years ago first got into growing their food, then the first wheel was used around 5500 years ago." I say, "Please, guys, no history lesson today."
Ignoring me, Lee says, "Yeah, it was the Mesopotamians using a wheel for making pottery, right?" Cowboy goes, "Uh-huh, and later the Greeks invented the wheelbarrow. The first known wheel and axle for a cart were invented about 5000 years ago." I mutter, "It took those dumb dudes long enough to see something so obvious as the wheel." Lee looks at me, grinning and saying, "Then it took modern man until 1980 to think to put wheels on luggage." I laugh, mumbling, "Modern dumb shits."
All of a sudden, it hits me that I'm hungry, so I ask, "Have you guys had anything for lunch?" Cowboy says, "Yeah, we had burgers and fries an hour ago. Where the hell did you go off to? We waited for you but finally went to that place on the boardwalk where they sell milkshakes and had lunch." I ignore his question about where I was and go, "I'm thinking about getting a pizza. If I buy one, would you guys have some?" Cowboy never says 'no' to pizza, so I walk to the boardwalk and buy a cheese pizza and three large Cokes in take-out containers that they put in a cardboard carrying tray so I can get everything back to the beach.
We eat and drink while the boys tell me about their days in Wildwood. I've been there, so I already knew about most of it, although Ronny wasn't interested in amusement rides. Now that I think about it, he wasn't interested in most things young guys were normally into. I missed out on a lot because of that.
Later, I doze off on Lee's beach blanket, thinking about Jon. Looking at Lee is what made up my mind to try hooking up with Jon again tomorrow before driving to Philly. When I wake up, I'm horny again. Huh, why not hook up with Jon tonight? I know where he lives, so...
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com.
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