Disclaimer: This is a story depicting graphic homosexual sex. If you are underage, do not read this story. Do not read this story if you are offended by descriptions of sex between men.
Thank you to everyone who sent comments on my first story! This one is a little more ambitious! Any comments would be welcome. Email me at Centaur1020@aol.com. Flames will be ignored.
Summer school. Those two words are never a good combination for a student, nor for a teacher for that matter. In this case, I was the victim, but not as a student.
I was studying to earn my Master's Degree in Education at a Midwestern University, and part of the program was to teach high school students during the summer. I had the "opportunity", as they put it, to enrich the lives of a number of students during the summer semester. Another good word - enrich.
Well, needless to say, I wasn't thrilled. I had planned a vacation to see my some of my friends down in Houston. But, it was not to be. I had to prepare a teacher's plan for a summer session with high school students. The class was to run from the first week of June to the third week of August. I didn't know much about the high school where I was going to teach, other than it was about 10 minutes from where I lived at the time.
I arrived at the school a couple of days before classes began to meet with the Principal, a Mr. Davies. The school looked like your basic high school in a suburban town. Mr. Davies was right out of television as a principal. Someone had forgot to tell him that polyester was out of style.
"Good morning, Mr. Williams," he began, as he sat down behind a cluttered desk. "I understand from the faculty at the university that come highly recommended." He adjusted his wide tie and large brown-rimmed glasses. He looked like a Saturday Night Live character that Chris Farley would play, but I kept a straight face.
"Thank you sir," I responded, on queue, wanting the interview to be short. "I look forward to teaching your fine students the history of our great nation."
He smiled at that, and reached for a binder on the bookshelf. "Your class is going to be made up exclusively of seniors who either failed American History their senior year or never took it as part of their curriculum. We require a passing grade in American History to graduate, so these 16 seniors need to pass your history class to get out of here."
He opened the binder to a page with some names on it, and he ran his finger down the names until he stopped at one in particular. He looked up at me for a second, and then began to speak in a very animated voice.
"One thing you need to know, Mr. Williams, is that there is a student in this class that defines trouble. His name is Devon James. Don't let him take over the class. He will you know. I had him suspended more times that I remember. I want him out of this school, but on my terms." He finished by spitting terms out like a poison. I was looking forward to meeting this little nightmare named Devon.
I was not overwhelmed with joy at the thought of teaching a bunch of flunkies, but it was only the summer after all. Needless to say, I took the job.
That Monday morning I arrived at school wearing summer casual but presentable clothes. I was 23 at the time, and I had been biking and jogging regularly, so I was in good shape. I also had a pretty good tan, with all the outside activity. At 5'10, I considered myself fit at 162 lbs, and an athletic shape. I also had lighter hair in the summer, with my light brown turning almost blond. I used my hazel eyes to capture bait when I wanted to have some fun. This morning, though, it was all about the students.
I walked in to the class to find only 4 students sitting in the classroom. I looked at the clock on the wall and it read 8:30 a.m., and that was when class was supposed to start. I shook my head, put my notebooks down, and introduced myself.
"Good morning, I'm Mr. Williams, but you can call me Dan. I want to make sure you're all here for American History, Summer Session."
I looked at the four students sitting in the room, and I was greeted by blank stares. Typical high school senior stares.
"Hellllllooooo," I said, trying to wake them up. One of them, furthest in the back, stirred to respond.
"We know what class this is, Teech, so let's get on with it," he barked, as he lay sprawled in the chair.
"Thanks for the ringing endorsement," I replied, shaking my head. Teenagers - definitely punishment for the rest of us.
I took out the class list and there were nine males and two females listed, but I saw only four males in front of me. Well, it was the first day of Summer School, so I shouldn't be surprised.
I asked each of them their names, and none of them responded Devon, so the terror-teenager was not present. That was not shocking at all.
"Ok, class, let's get started. I'm going to go through the basics of how I run this class, and please feel free to ask questions as I go through," I finished this sentence as a loud bang could be heard down the corridor. I knew I was the only class on this floor (English was being taught one level lower), so I began to walk towards the door when the door opened with a crash and five kids came smashing through, all falling on top of each other and laughing hysterically. Books, notebooks, etc. fell everywhere, and the one guy in the front row sitting quietly got plowed into and he fell backwards. It was a mess, a loud mess.
"HEY!" I shouted, as they all looked up from the pigpile at me. "ENOUGH, GET IN YOUR SEATS" I barked, and they all laughed again and started to stand up. One of them, the best looking of the group by far, brushed himself off and smiled at me an evil grin.
"No harm done, Teacher, we like to arrive with a bang," he grinned again and stuck his hand out. "Devon James, at your service," he said in a low masculine voice. The guys behind him burst into laughter at that, and they all headed to their seats. I shook Devon's hand firmly and looked right into his eyes. They were a light blue, almost haunting, and they bore right into my soul. They dared me to take him on. He winked at me in a sinister way. I looked away, not wanting to get into a confrontation the first day.
As he turned, I spent a moment admiring his physique. This guy was stunning to look at, but not just because of the eyes. His whole body was an athletic frame, from his broad shoulders to his tapered waist and his muscular legs. He was about 6 feet tall and looked like he weighed about 175, all tight muscle. His tan was deep, and he had dark brown hair - almost black. He had gel in it, and it was cut very short for the summer. He was wearing a tank top, so you could see his chest as he turned, and the abs of an athlete were there for the admiring. This kid worked out and lifted weights a little. He was wearing baggy shorts, typical for this crew, so I couldn't get any more information on him. He walked with a swagger - a classic Fuck You swagger of a teenage cocky male who hasn't been slammed down a peg yet. Whew, it was getting hot in the classroom.
We got about half way through the first class without any more interruptions as I described the parameters of the class when finally my two missing females arrive in typical female fashion. They opened the door and came in chatting like birds. No apologies, no explanations, they just moved to the back of the classroom like nothing unusual. This was definitely going to be a long semester.
At the end of the first class, as everyone was leaving, I stopped Devon. The rest of the class filed out and I sat down at my desk and he sat down in a seat in the front row. Devon had his usual smug look on his face.
"Comfortable?" I asked. He nodded.
"Well, you're going to get even more comfortable in those seats because you'll be sitting in them for the rest of your life unless you smarten up and figure out a way to pass this class without pissing me off.
Devon wasn't impressed. He shrugged and replied, "Ya know Teacher, I've seen more assholes in your seat than I can count. Why should I care?"
I was disgusted at his lack of respect, but I wasn't much older than him, so I wasn't surprised. I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, so I responded in kind.
"Well, us "assholes" have one thing you don't - a degree. So, Mr. Important, what will it be? A degree, or flipping burgers?"
This argument had been used on him before by countless teachers, so again, he wasn't impressed.
"No offense, Teacher, but I have more important things to do than sit here and listen to you," he said as he stood up and began to walk out.
"I didn't tell you to leave," I barked as he continued to walk out.
"You're right, you didn't," he said without looking back at me.
What a total scumbag, I thought, fuming at the encounter. Well, he wasn't going to pass me with that attitude. So, at least for now, I was in the drivers seat.
Two weeks passed by with little incident as Devon continued to show up late and ignore me and American History completely. The other ten students started to apply themselves, and we even had some interesting discussions about the British Colonial System and the drive for American Independence. In two instances, Devon didn't even show up for class.
One afternoon the class came in and got ready for a test. Not surprisingly there was no sign of Devon. This was getting to be a bigger problem. I asked the kids in the back row if they had seen Devon, and one replied that it had been a couple of days since any of them had seem him. That worried me a little bit, and I resolved to find out more after the test.
The students finished the test and filed out about two hours later. I gathered my stuff together and left the high school in search of Devon. I don't know why, but something told me he was in trouble. He maybe a total asshole, but he was still my student, at least for the summer.
I had found out roughly where he lived from his friends, so I headed for that part of town. I arrived in the area and started walking down Devon's street. The houses were nice - this was a middle class area of the city. The lawns were mostly neatly kept, and a couple of golden retrievers were running around in the front yard of the house next to Devons. I stopped in front of his house and looked around to see if there was any activity. It was quiet, but there was a car in the driveway. I decided to find out more, if possible, about Devon and his situation. There had to be a reason he was so angry.
I arrived at the front door and rang the doorbell. About ten seconds passed and finally the door opened to reveal an attractive woman who looked like she was in her fifties.
"Yes?" she asked, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. "May I help you?"
"I'm Dan Williams, Devon's Summer School history teacher, and I haven't seen him in a few days. He missed a test, and..." I hadn't finished when she cut me off abruptly.
"Devon no longer lives here, so please leave." She finished sharply, and began to close the door.
"Wait a second," I answered, putting my hand up to hold the door open. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know, to tell you the truth," she responded, with a look of pain on her face. I wasn't sure this was his mother, but she looked like him, so something must have happened to get him thrown out.
"Where do you think he went?" I asked, looking at her more closely now. She had some bruises around her eyes, covered up with makeup. I began to suspect that this was an abuse situation, but I couldn't be sure with only a 2 minute evaluation. As a teacher, I had a legal obligation to notify authorities when a child or anyone else was being abused in a home. The problem was, I didn't know enough to report this family - yet.
"I'm not sure," she answered, this time a little more quietly. She was afraid, and you could tell she wanted no part of this conversation. Finally, I decided to try a different track.
"Well, here is my number. If Devon contacts you, or he needs anything, you give him this number."
I started walking down the steps to the house when I heard a male voice bark something I couldn't understand. I turned around and the door closed with a slam. I shuddered involuntarily.
That was Friday. Over the weekend I decided to go bike riding around the city, as the weather was beautiful for a change. The temperature dropped from 95 to 78 - perfect biking weather. I set out to ride the bike path that ran along the lake on the west side of town. As I was riding, I saw a bridge out of the corner of my eye. It was a run down railroad bridge from years ago, probably not used. I needed to pee, so I thought I would run over and stop for a second.
I rode over and parked my bike against a tree. There were no houses around, just a wooded area and the bridge. There was a fairly large stream running beneath the bridge, and there were rocks on the edges. I stood over the stream and started to take a piss when I heard footsteps off to my right. I turned and looked around, but I couldn't see anything from where I was standing. I finished up and started back towards my bike when a man jumped out from behind a tree and scared the absolute shit out of me!
"Jesus," I yelled, falling back three steps. My heart stopped and my body shook as I kept myself from tripping on some rocks on my left side.
"Dan, it's me - Devon," the mysterious figure said, grabbing my shoulder to steady me.
I looked at him, and my mouth fell open. He had a black eye on the right side and a cut on the left side of his face running along his cheek. His nose was probably broken, and his neck had blood stains on it. His clothing was torn all over the place, and his right hand had cuts along his knuckles. He looked like he had been fighting for three days straight. His face had also lost all the arrogance and indifference that I had seen in the classroom. It had been replaced with fear.
"My God, Devon, are you alright?" I asked, terrified at what I saw. I wouldn't be surprised if he had some infection of some kind with all the cuts and blood.
"Not really," he responded softly, and he let go of my shoulder and stepped back. "I'm not doing so well, as you can see," he continued, rubbing his face against the dirty sleeve of his torn denim shirt. His jeans were ripped in several places, dirty with blood and what looked like soot, and his sneakers were black and brown instead of white, like they had been.
"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, with a strong note of concern in my voice. I watched him carefully for signs of real injury, but it looked like he had suffered only superficial cuts in most places, with the exception of the cheek and the eye.
"I don't really want to talk about it," he responded, a little bit of the roughness creeping back into his voice. He was clearly afraid to look afraid, and he was too proud to ask for help. I decided a different approach.
"Well, I'm not sure what happened, but if you don't want to talk, that's okay. By the looks of it though, it's probably been a while since you've eaten."
His head snapped up at the mention of food, and his eyes grew a little wide. I could almost see the saliva forming. Yep, he was hungry alright. And he was desperate to eat, but he didn't want to admit it.
"Well, a little while I reckon," he responded, trying not to look to eager.
"Okay, then let's go back to my place and we'll stir up something to eat. We might also see if we can get you cleaned up."
We walked out of the wooded area and picked up my bike from the tree. We walked back to my place, which took about twenty minutes, without speaking a word. He was quiet, and I didn't want to invade his thoughts just yet. I wanted him to be comfortable with me.
We arrived at the house I was renting, and we stopped at the front so I could put my bike away. I came back and Devon was sitting on my front steps looking out at the street in a daze. He was in some type of shock still, and I'm not sure if he knew where he was. I walked over to him carefully, so as to not scare him.
"Devon?" I said softly, standing in front of him. "Want to go inside?"
He looked up, smiled thinly, and nodded his head. I helped him up, and went inside to my house.
The house I was renting for the year was a two family, but I was the only one living in it. The couple that owned it were both professors at the university I was attending, and they had gone to Europe for two years to teach in Switzerland. Hopefully they would let me rent again next year, as I was fond of the Victorian style home.
The spacious living room was our first stop, as I told Devon to sit down while I went to get us something to drink. I went off to the bathroom and gathered up some first aid supplies. I then went to my bedroom and grabbed a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt. Even though Devon was taller than I was, he would probably not complain about a change of clothes.
I came back and found Devon sitting on the couch quietly waiting for me. This was not the same person I had know for several weeks. Gone was the arrogance, the confidence, and the haughty manner - replaced with a shy, withdrawn, nervous person who looked like someone would attack him at any moment.
I told him to sit up, and I put the first aid supplies on the table. He let me work on his face for a few minutes without complaint, until I hit his scar with some peroxide. He yelped, but I held him firm while I cleaned him up some more. After looking at his nose, it didn't look like it was broken. I washed his face again, then worked on his right hand and the cut knuckles. After about 30 minutes of work, he looked okay - with the exception of the black eye. There wasn't much I could do for that, but I knew he wouldn't go to the hospital anyway. He was bandaged and cleaned up for now. Now, step two.
"Okay Devon, now its time for you to go shower," I told him as I wrinkled my nose from his odor. "Be careful of the bandages," I reminded him, and I led him to the upstairs shower. I gave him the clothes I had rounded up, some soap, and a towel and let him go into the bathroom alone.
I headed downstairs to the kitchen to cook a quick dinner. While I was fiddling around, I heard the shower startup. I took a quick inventory of the situation. I had a 17-year-old kid in my house, all beaten up, who had said about seven words since I found him near the bridge. He had not told me why he was in such bad shape, nor where he had been for the past few days. So far, we were batting a thousand.
I made some hamburgers (more than two) and some French fries. I put the stuff together on the back porch, where there was a nice table under the overhang for warm evenings. I made some iced tea for us, and I put on some music to calm the nerves - Billie Holiday was about right for the night.
I came back into the kitchen and found Devon standing on the edge of the kitchen in my sweat pants and t-shirt. His dark hair was wet, but clean. His face looked better, with bandage intact. His hand was also still bandaged, but he held it lamely to the side. He had a look of anticipation on his face - he could smell the food throughout the house.
"Hungry?" I asked, playfully. He nodded, again shyly, and waited for permission to move. Someone had smacked this kid's ego out of his body and into another time zone.
"We're ready," I said, turning around and going out to the porch. He followed, and we sat down and he dove into the food without so much as a pass the salt. He ate three hamburgers, 2/3 of the French fries, and three glasses of iced tea before he stopped moving. The entire dinner was silent except for Billy playing in the background.
It was about 9:30 now, and I was getting tired. I wanted to see if I could get a little more information before the night was through, so I made my move carefully.
"Devon, I know you're not much for answers right now, but I'm guessing you're in some trouble." He looked up and his eyes had the shadow of fear in them. I continued.
"You can stay here tonight, on one condition," I said, watching him carefully. He, in turn, was eyeing me carefully, not sure what to expect. He waited patiently.
"That you tell me that you're not in trouble with the law." I finished, knowing that this probably wasn't the case.
My suspicions were confirmed because his body relaxed with relief. "No, Dan, not the law," was all he said, secure in the knowledge that he would not have to say anything more for right now.
I nodded, and continued "Okay, then I'll get some stuff ready for the couch to sleep on," and with that, I got up and cleared the table. He helped gather the dishes and brought them to the kitchen with me. Billy stopped playing in the background, and I started washing the dishes at the sink.
I heard Devon wander off to the living room, and soon I heard the clank of the CD Player. Devon was changing the music. After about a minute I heard the familiar voice of Patsy Cline drift over the airwaves. Hmmm.Crazy - my favorite by her. Interesting choice.
He came back into the kitchen with a slightly worried face on. "I hope that's okay," he asked.
"Fine - great choice," I answered, and he smiled. Well, I got four more words without trying too hard.
I brought the sheets down to the couch and laid them on the pullout bed. Devon helped me get the bed ready, and soon he was getting ready to lie down. As he walked around I noticed that he was favoring his right leg a little, something I hadn't noticed before.
"Devon, what's the matter with your leg?" I asked as he stood near my CD collection looking at my music.
He turned and looked down at his leg, shifting his weight from one side to another. "Nothin'" he answered, wanting to avoid more evaluations. However, I wasn't go to miss something major and have that on my conscience.
"Over here," I ordered, and he walked over slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. I took a hold of his right leg and started to maneuver it level when I saw his face wince. I massaged his calf and then moved up above his kneecap when I found a soft spot. He yelped, and his body recoiled a little.
"Okay, we have a choice here," I said, looking at him squarely in the eye. "Either you take those sweats off so I can look at your thigh, or you go. I know you're hurt, but I'm not waiting to find out that you're seriously hurt."
He thought for a moment, and then nodded. He stood carefully and untied the loop of the band holding the sweatpants tight. He pulled the sweats down and off completely, and then sat back down on the edge of the pullout bed.
I had to concentrate because now he was sitting next to me with nothing but a t-shirt and briefs on. I had to focus on the leg. I could steal a glance at his basket if I was careful. But I was worried about him to, so I decided to deal with the leg first.
I examined the area that he found sensitive. There was a bruise, a deep blue circle in the center of the thigh, but nothing more that I could see. I felt around the thigh area for a couple of minutes to see if any other area was sensitive.
I looked up at his face while I was massaging his thigh and his eyes were closed. The look of peace on his face was the first sign that he wasn't afraid since I brought him home. I decided to continue massaging for a few minutes to put him more at east. Actually, I decided to keep contact and take my chances.
I kneaded his thigh muscles carefully, and he slowly opened his legs wide to give me greater access. He also leaned back and put rested his back against two pillows he pulled behind him. I now had a 17-year-old young male god spread- eagled in front of me letting me rub his inner thighs. It doesn't get much better than this - but I knew it could, if I was careful.
Because his eyes were closed, I decided to take a closer look at the prize awaiting attention behind its white cotton jail. To my silent joy, his cock formed a nice long outline against the briefs holding it in. It looked like it was rising on its own, with a firm definition of the head at the edge of the briefs. His skin was tanned even in the midsection, so the white was a beautiful contrast and outlined everything for me. They were my underwear, so they were a little small for him as he had a slightly bigger frame. That made it better, as the cotton stretched against the cock and what had to be a fat set of balls, filled with boycum.
I carefully moved my hands to the other thigh, thinking that if he asked, I would say that I was giving him a full massage. He didn't move, other than to slide a little to give me better access. I looked at his chest, and his deep tan ran up his washboard stomach with a dark shadow of chest hair. His trail of joy was just enough to see as it rose out of the briefs and ran to his navel. His nipples were a dark brown, and they were the best sight so far. Slightly bigger than quarters, they were soft and tipped with large nubs. They were also erect, probably from the physical contact. My gaze continued to his armpits, as he held his arms behind his head with his eyes still closed. The hair under his arms was also dark, but not too thick. His arm muscles were defined, but not too big. His long arms ended in sculptured hands, despite the bandage on his right hand. His fingers were long, and it was clear that at least in this case, that legend looked like it might be right.
Finally, as my hands continued their gentle but firm circles against his muscles, my eyes found his face. His lips were perfect - tight but gentle. His face, recovering from a so-far unexplained attack, was resting peacefully. I could tell he wasn't asleep, because his hand would travel to his forehead once in a while to dab the sweat.
I decided that it was time to get a little braver. I figured, he's not going to get anymore relaxed than this, so I decided to test his responses to some careful moves.
First, I moved my hands from his lower thigh to his upper thigh and brushed contact with his balls. He made no major response, so I was gaining confidence. I was rubbing the inner thigh more and more, and rubbing his balls more and more. He shifted a little, but nothing in the way of discouragement. By now his cock had become fully erect, straining hard against the briefs like a massive column of flesh banging to get out. His cock was big enough, and hard enough, that it lifted the briefs off from against his body so that there was a gap. I could now see one of his balls, and a few of his pubic hairs were sticking out. That cock wanted air, and it wanted it bad.
I snuck a finger closer to that opening to see what I could get away with. Still, no movement, as the music played in the background and he kept his eyes shut and his legs open. I nudged his ballsac, and then his actual cock a little. He jumped a little, but then settled back again. He moved his leg a little, and his large cockhead began to move towards the opening. All it needed was a little encouragement, and I just had to help it along. I brushed my hand against it, and then slowly pulled the edge of the brief a little.
BOOM! The cut cockhead jammed its way out of the briefs and out into the open. It was huge - bigger than mine by far. It was an angry red, held tight as the rest of its body was held back by the briefs. The slit was long and wide, as its one eye stared up at me, begging for attention. I was now enraptured by his cock. It was easily the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I didn't realize it, but I was moving closer to it by the second. I kept my hands moving in circles, but now my right hand was openly rubbing against his cock. I heard him let out a small moan, so I moved a little closer to the large mushroom head.
It was time. I had to do it. I had to take the final chance. I was inches away from my dream prize, and I couldn't hold back anymore. I slowly moved my hands along his briefs to the top and ever-so-slowly started to pull them down. I had to be careful not to trap his cock awkwardly, as the head was out but the body was in. He moved a little, but only to help me as he lifted his butt off the bed a little and into the air. The briefs came off quickly, and his ass landed back on the bed with his cock slapping against his tight stomach.
Now the massive eel was out of the cage. It grew to its full length, ecstatic that it was no longer imprisoned. It was too beautiful to describe, as its long shaft was pumping with blood along the veins. His balls were now tight against his body as he was fully aroused. I moved towards it to get closer and I could tell that it was about 9" long and 2" thick. This was a cock made for fucking a lot of holes.
I ran my fingers through his pubic push, now free to move around his cock. It rested against my arm, content to be rubbed slowly. I checked Devon's face, but he was still peaceful - although a hint of a shy smile was there if you looked carefully. I could tell he was going to pretend like this wasn't really happening - even though his body was on a different page altogether.
His skin was soft and warm, his cock pulsing with energy. I leaned down and breathed softly on his cock. It clearly was in charge, because it came alive even more. I pulled it straight up and starting to pump it a little, and a massive drop of precum began to emerge from the slit. The head was so big, and the slit so wide, that the drop was actually more than one drop. I ran my fingers along his balls and down into the hidden valley while I watched the precum drop form.
Suddenly, Devon surprised me a little. He let out a little whimper, and I looked at his face and it had changed from peace to urgency. His legs spread a little more as my fingers were exploring, and his cock began pulsing harder in my hands. His ass slid a little towards me, and my fingers ran back into moist territory as I brushed against his hole. I leaned down while my finger began small circles around his hole, and I touched my tongue against the tip of his cock and lapped up the precum.
That wasn't good enough for him. We weren't moving along at the right speed. He lifted his ass off the bed to push his cock into my mouth, and the head slid in nicely. I tasted pure joy, as my tongue swirled around his cockhead. I knew a lot about cocksucking, as I had a couple of expert teachers. I knew how to make a cut guy cry as my tongue danced against the hard edge of his mushroom head.
However, his ass was a separate organ with different ideas. My finger was swirling at the entrance to the valley of the sun and finally it pressed against the door a little harder. His ass once again moved, but this time pressing against my finger. He whimpered a little again, and as I was impersonating an industrial vacuum with my mouth, my finger found the promised land. My finger went in without much resistance, and soon I was knuckle deep in his ass. He began to hump a little, showing some impatience. I took the hint and began to finger fuck him softly.
His cock was now sliding in and out of my mouth like a racecar piston. I decided to deep throat him, and I took him down to the base. I looked over and his eyes were open, and they found mine. He smiled softly, but his body was arching in an effort to get my finger deeper. I decided to ask an important question.
"Devon, is your boy-cunt hot and tight?"
He looked at me for a second as my finger jammed in and out of his hole at a fast pace. He panted a little, and then answer "Please..please put more in.please."
Well, I wasn't going to disappoint him. I put two fingers in quickly, and his humping picked up momentum. My saliva was cascading down his large cock, his balls bathed in my spittle. I pushed a third digit in, and he let out a small cry of joy.
I was uncomfortable because I was so hard I could have broken glass with my cock. It was pressed against my jeans, and it needed to get out bad. I took my fingers out of his ass for a second, but kept sucking. He let out a grunt of disappointment, but I fumbled and finally took of my pants. My cock sprang free and bounced against my stomach, hard as stone.
I decided to get a little more comfortable, so I got up on the bed with Devon and we leaned down together with each crotch in our face. I resumed sucking and then moved my fingers back into the burning furnace of his ass. They were sucked in immediately, and his ass began humping again.
Meanwhile, he tentatively touched my cock with the fingers of his good hand. It came to life also, twitching around. Devon squeezed the head, and precum oozed out of the top. I was so horny I was afraid I would cum with just him touching me. He was also leaking precum at a steady rate, but I was drinking it as part of my loud and joyful sucking.
It was time. Devon was pushing too hard against my hand - I knew he was close. He grabbed my cock and began rubbing it pretty hard as he pushed his cock deeper into my throat. He yelped, "Dan, it's cumming.I'm going to cum.please, don't stop, I'm going to cum."
At the last second I jammed my fingers into his boy-cunt hard and he rammed his cock deep and hard into my throat so that my nose was in his pubes. His massive cockhead began bursting cum into my mouth. Now, I've sucked and swallowed, but this was ridiculous. One, two, three full spurts of thick, sweet cum. Four, five, six times and I drank as fast as I could. Cum was now leaking out of the side of my mouth as his ass swallowed my fingers. He was whimpering again, and the cumming continued.
Finally, I let his cock go and it fell out of my mouth with a plop. It was still fairly hard, and cum was everywhere. All over his balls, his pubes, his stomach, my face, my chest, and my hair. I took my fingers out of his ass, and he sighed a big sigh.
I was still hard as a rock, and leaking badly. He was playing with my cock as his eyes were closed again, but I started to stand up and he opened his eyes and wouldn't let go of my cock.
"Now you," he said, and he slid back towards me with his waist at my midsection on the bed. He lifted his legs in the air, and his eyes locked on mine.
"Please, Dan, fuck me.you need to cum, and I need your cock to cum in me. Please."
His hole was moist and hot, and my cock was resting against his balls. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. He grabbed my cock and started rubbing it against his hole. His cock was rock hard again, and all the cum was making it slick.
I reached into my pants pocket and grabbed a rubber and put it on. I needed some lube, but he wouldn't have it.
"Please," he whimpered, "I'm wet.just like a cunt.waiting for you," as he pushed my cock against his hole. "Fuck me now.I'm going to cum again as your cock shoots in me."
I couldn't stand it anymore, because I needed to cum bad. I put his legs on my shoulders, pointed my hard cock at his boy-pussy, and pushed. I knew immediately that he knew was he was doing. He pushed out, just like you're supposed to, and I slipped in slowly. His face crinkled a little, but then it passed. I pushed more, he pushed more. I leaned into it, and he pushed back. My balls rested against his ass nicely.
I breathed deeply because I almost came just going into his tight boycunt. I grabbed his cock, now harder than before, and started to pump in tandem with my thrusts.
"Dan, please pull it out and push it back in.take it all out, yeah, that's it, all the way out and all the way in," he moaned, as I took my cock completely out of his fuckhole and rammed it back in. Obviously he had done this before. But all I wanted to do was cum, and cum hard.
I had only about 4 minutes of Valhalla when I started to feel it. "I'm gonna cum, Devon.I'm going to fucking cum in your cunt," I barked, as I rammed my cock home again. He lifted his ass off the bed towards me, jammed his whole body against my cock, and that was it. We came at the same time. I jammed his hole with my cock as it pulsed cum into his tunnel. His cock exploded so hard, and his body was at such an angle, that the cum shot hit him right in the face on the first run. The second shot also hit him dead on, but this time he opened his mouth and it went right in. The third shot never got far, because I leaned over and swallowed more cum from his balls. Dinner wasn't enough.I needed dessert.
After a couple more minutes of his ass grinding against my cock, I finally pulled out soft. His face was a mess of cum, as was mine. His cock finally rested semi-hard against his leg.
I leaned forward slowly and ran my finger along the cum that was splattered on his cheek. He leaned towards me and ran his fingers through my hair. I put my hand under his chin and delicately lifted his face towards mine. His eyes were like bottomless oceans, and they bore into my soul again. His lips met mine softly, and we kissed. The music had stopped, but the gentle summer breeze danced through the living room while we kissed. He held me, and I held him. We must have stayed like that for about fifteen minutes, our exhausted cocks resting against our thighs and our sweating bodies clinging to each other.
Finally, we broke the embrace. He smiled shyly and observed, "I'm going to have to shower again, and it's your fault."
His eyes were laughing a little as they looked at me, and I laughed back at him out loud. "Hmmm, well, we could arrange a shower."
I winked at him, and he grinned. We organized the bed a little after what could only be called a fuckfest, and he and I walked slowly towards the stairs, naked as the day we were born.
Devon stopped for a second, and turned to me.
"Dan, can I stay tomorrow night too?" he asked, with his eyes finding mine with their gentle pleading.
"One day at a time, Devon.One day at time" I answered, and he looked at me, nodded, and started up the stairs. As he walked up the stairs, I kept my eyes locked on his tight, well-fucked, tanned ass. I could see his brown entrance as his cheeks parted, and I swear it winked at me. My cock hung low and slapped in between my thighs as we climbed the stairs.
I wasn't sure what lay ahead for us, but I did know that Devon James was a more complicated person than I had thought. I also knew I was out on the edge here, with a lot of unknowns. However, I had just experienced what was probably the best sex of my life. In cases like that, I gave myself the night to enjoy the afterglow (with some more fun, of course), and I would worry about tomorrow when tomorrow came.
As we reached the top of the stairs, Devon started humming Crazy. I looked at his gentle eyes, his shy smile, and his cuts and bruises, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I thought of him as the kid I met weeks ago with the attitude to take the world on at his pace. And now, the shy kid who was leading me by hand into a shower with him. Who says Puppy Love only happens to Puppies.
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