THE DEADHEADS OF NO HOPE by Rio Mack
DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay and bi sexuality.
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WREN'S FIRST 'REMYPORN' CLIP (Conclusion)
Meanwhile, at the Damson house, Wren began editing her footage of Remy and Mick around ten o'clock that evening, working on it until 1:30 or so, with Njeri right beside her at her desk.
They'd excused themselves early from the dinner -- which was not too bad actually, Wren thought, Dexter had kept it simple with a roast chicken; but they decided to skip the store-bought dessert, pleading homework.
In Wren's room, the girls stripped and curled up on Wren's couch, watching Wren's phone video of Remy and McKinley playing on her flatscreen. They idly played with each other as they sat entranced, commenting on how incredibly hot the two boys were, how unbelievably sexy they were together.
Young, perfect male bodies, pumping and flexing and rippling and straining -- Wren felt like she was watching a raw, bold, muscularly choreographed all-male ballet company's erotically charged pas de deux.
The girls were entranced with Remy's strong, beautifully carved body, having its way with the equally jacked boy underneath him. The girls moaned as they watched Remy's hard, thick cock thrust relentlessly in and out of McKinley's stretched-tight hole.
Wren and Jeri kept fingering themselves, making each other cum, as all the steamy-hot boy-sex footage played.
"We best be gettin with these boys, honey. That Mickey dude almost hot as Rem! Damn, girl, you go from no boys to these boys? You something else!"
As they watched all the phone video a second time, the finished clip she would edit down from the footage started forming itself in Wren's mind. She could tell exactly which parts were the hottest, the ones she'd want to feature, and which parts she'd splice in around them, to pace the clip and frame the juicy bits.
Once all the phone video had been transferred to her laptop, Wren decided first on a music selection to use for a soundtrack, to set the rhythm for the clip. The choice was a no-brainer -- she wanted the Grateful Dead music that was playing when Remy and McKinley were having their hottest sex.
Wren had never heard music sound so raw and dirty and sexy and low-down before. It was like the musical equivalent of a dick getting raging-hard and dripping with precum. She adored it -- and adored watching the boys fuck to it.
She texted Remy for the name, and he sent it to her -- "Smokestack Lightning" -- along with a link to the exact concert-version he'd had playing. Wren downloaded a copy of the track and began matching the boy-sex footage to it, working to synch the action to it just right.
Njeri always loved watching Wren create a porn clip. So far, Wren had only made clips of girl-on-girl stuff, along with solo clips of various girls fingering themselves, and each clip had been supremely sexy.
Njeri wondered sometimes if that's why they'd all gotten so into looking hot and being fit and buying lingerie and toys and evolving their sophisticated slut-style -- to look the part for their starring roles in Wren's vids.
Njeri felt Wren had an uncanny sense for finding the absolute hottest moments in the girl-sex she filmed, letting a scene run just long enough, then cutting away to the next equally hot scene.
And now Wren's porn would feature sexy boys! Njeri marveled that a girl who'd had happen to her what Wren had could create such a beautiful tribute to boys and their dicks and their raging hunger to cum.
The two girls squealed and kissed and played with their tits, fingering each other crazily as they watched the finished eighteen-minute clip.
Loving that final cut, feeling like it was a video-art breakthrough for her, Wren excitedly thought how she'd be doing a whole slew of b/b porn clips like this one, now that she had Remy and the boys in his crew. She felt like an official pornographer now, so she felt she needed a corporate-sounding name -- like NAKED SWORD or COCKY BOYS or SEAN CODY or VOYR -- for her home-grown gay-porn `studio'.
She thought about it and decided on `REMYPORN'.
Then she fingured it woud be amusingly cool to brand her gay porn clips even further, by creating a small piece of logo-footage that would play at the beginning of this and all the subsequent `REMYPORN' clips she planned to make.
She mulled it over and what immediately came to mind one was of the videos she'd taken of Remy last weekend, the one of him naked and jacking his cock in front of that nude-boy pin-up wall in his bedroom's studio-space.
She and Njeri played it over a couple of times (Njeri had never seen it; she loved it) until Wren found a beautifully shot, seriously hot, twenty-some-second clip from it she thought would make a perfect `REMYPORN' title-background sequence to introduce her clips, corporate-style.
She even slowed the speed down on the footage she chose, to emphasize her gorgeous boy looking so beautiful and muscular, jacking his utterly perfect cock in super-sexy slo-mo. The result was like watching her young god -- slowly, sensuously, luxuriantly, alluringly; big, strong hand jacking huge, hard cock -- having the kind of long, lazy stroke-session Wren hoped the boys watching her clips would have.
Next, Wren overlaid some lettering on the intro clip.
After a lot of keyboard clicking, Wren's hands flittering over her keyboard like a beautiful pink hummingbird, her movements hypnotizing Njeri as she looked on in wonder at her girlfriend's skill, suddenly there was the clip as it would play now --
Remy, in all his smooth, youthful, nude-muscled glory, jacking off in slo-mo, letting the eyes could linger on that big-ass dick and beautifully defined body. Behind him, filling in the entire background, were all those tiny pictures of naked, big-dicked muscle-studs.
After a few seconds of Remy's sensually obscene slow-stroking, the `REMYPORN' logo, in Optima font, appeared over him.
The logo dissolved, and in smaller-font Optima, the corporate slogan she and Njeri came up with -- `CREATED BY WREN FOR MAXIMUM PLEASURE' -- appeared over the slow-jacking hot boy.
Next came MUSIC BY THE DEAD,' and finally the title of the clip, REMY & McKINLEY.'
Wren added the title sequence on to the final-edit of her porn clip and excitedly sent a copy off to both Remy and McKinley (after first sending Njeri the copy she moaned for).
Wren heard back from Remy almost immediately, when the boys couldn't possibly have been more than three minutes into watching it, even if they'd played it as soon as they got it it.
Both boys, according to Remy's text, were hard as fuck from jacking to it.
Wren received a bunch more texts from the boys over the course of the next hour or so, as they watched and re-watched and jacked and sucked and fucked to it and kept texting her to tell her how hot it was, and what a genius film-maker she was.
Remy told her the whole thing -- the quality of her camerawork, her editing, the soundtrack -- was brilliant. He considered it pure cinema art and he was floored and claimed her talent was boundless.
Remy praised the awesome credit sequence of him jacking in slo-mo, which he found both hilarious and hot as fuck. Her use of "Smokestack Lightning," he felt, was epic. He added it brought a whole new layer of meaning to one of his favorite songs.
"'Let a poor boy ride!' Damn, Mick sure as hell did some ridin' in that clip!"
Remy felt certain that after dudes saw this clip, 'smokestack lightning' would become their new slang term for a dude's hard, jutting cock shooting its load, cum-ropes spewing out like smoke-trails from a tall chimney.
Wren and Jeri cammed with the boys for a while, around 2:30, watching the young muscle-gods stroke and whoop and make out as they had `Remy & McKinley' playing on Remy's wall-mounted flat-screen.
Jeri came twice and Wren four times during their cam-sex session.
In terms of the gay/bi porn she'd made since she'd gotten with Remy, there were a bunch of solo clips of her boy doing all sorts of sexing things, the `GameDay3Way' video of Remy and Trey and Njeri, and now her first official b/b clip.
Wren thought dreamily of upcoming REMYPORN' titles she wanted to make -- Remy & Trey,' Remy & Willy,' Remy & McKinley 2,' along with various threesomes and foursomes, maybe even a `GameDayBoyOrgy' fuck-fest.
Remy's crew would become her studio's porn-star stable.
Wren wondered if this was her calling, the crossroads where her constant porn-viewing and naked-boy fantasy-drawing has led her -- making gorgeous erotic art, creating and recording stunning sexual encounters among gorgeous young boys and girls.
It sounded like an amazing career -- she could be the first gay/bi-porn director to feature, exclusively, 16 and 17 year olds! That could be her niche-market.
Wren suddenly realized her studio of porn models were all under-age.
Oh well, she'd just keep it local then, giving copies of her work to kids at school, perfecting her craft until her models became legal. Which sounded way less dangerous than trying to market her movies on the Dark Web.
She'd create a distribution-list of No Hope kids to send her `REMYPORN' releases. She knew exactly which girls at school would love it, and Remy could tell her which No Hope boys would be down to stroke to her home-grown.
Wren paused to get her head fully around the fact that she seemed to have this gift for showing spectacular visions of hard-core, all-male erotica -- crazy, she thought, given the nightmare she lived through (would never stop living through, as Dr. Field kept telling her).
It was sort of like learning that one of the great directors of classic Hollywood musicals, someone who could shape such lush, rich, vibrantly sunny, song-and-dance fantasies, had actually grown up in seamy squalor, violently abused as a child.
Remy and McKinley finally crawled into bed together, naked and finally fucked out, close to 4 AM. Remy held his new bro close as they relaxed into sleep, loving the feel of another boy's naked muscle against his own hard body, purring soft and sleepy to Mick as they let themselves drift off.
"You're so fucking gorgeous, dude -- how have you seriously never been with a boy before? I'd think dudes would have been hitting on you pretty much nonstop since you were about 10 or 11. I know I would have."
"Told you, dawg, I was shy as fuck."
"Didn't seem all that shy in drawing class today."
McKinley groaned.
"Fuck, Remy, I was desperate as hell to get you to notice me. Hadda get with you, dawg. Totally embarrassed I did that cheesy, Blaine's cock thing with my drawing."
"Don't be embarrassed, bro! It was hot as fuck! For Wren, too -- it gave her the idea we should party. Wren's like the sexiest being you will ever meet. It's like she envisions couplings and then makes her dreams come true."
Remy thought about what he'd just said, as if Wren could warp reality around her wishes. It was his last conscious thought right before sinking into a deep sleep.
Remy was up first next morning, delighted to wake with such a beautiful boy in his bed. It was late, almost 11. He wished he could let McKinley sleep more, but they had to get started if they wanted time to fool around a bit, then get in a run and a workout, before Wren came over to pick him up for their date at 3.
Remy turned on his side, facing McKinley, and gently let his fingers run through the boy's thick, blonde, shoulder-length hair. So gorgeous, Remy thought, leaning in for soft wake-up kisses.
As incredible as it was with Wren, Remy knew he would never stop needing to be mostly with boys.
McKinley smiled before opening his eyes -- then, eyes open, he pulled his bro in for a kiss. It didn't take long before the randy boys were enjoying the taste of each other's morning wood.
After each boy had coaxed out and swallowed his bro's load, Remy slapped his bro's ass and hustled them downstairs for a quick smoothie before their run.
Scampering through the house naked, McKinley knew it was going to be mostly naked around his house, too, for him from now on -- it just felt too good, too right. His dick began plumping with the heady pleasure of being naked again with Remy in his kitchen.
Mick sliced up the bananas Remy gave him and dumped them into a cool, chrome-and-glass, retro-looking blender Remy indicated he should use. It looked to Mick like something from a `50s-film, drug-store soda-fountain.
Remy added in some frozen blueberries out of a bag he pulled from his freezer, then some vanilla yogurt from a huge container in the fridge, and a few scoops of protein powder from an enormous plastic container on the counter.
Mick added the recipe to his phone's Notes folder, then stood behind Remy, fit his dick in his bro's crack, pressed close, and got in some kissing and muscle-worship and dry-humping while Remy ran the blender.
Protein shake made, Remy poured them each a big glass, using mismatched, thrift-store beer glasses. They stroked each other's cock and tweaked each other's nipples as they sipped them, then ran upstairs to get ready for their run.
First, nude stretches in front of the flat-screen, watching a COCKY BOYS clip Remy loved, of two hot dudes working out together nude.
Warm-up finished, Remy found Mick a jock, some running shorts, and a pair of socks. He tossed McKinley his good pair of running shoes, and laced up his old ones.
They stepped out onto Remy's small front porch for a minute, to see if it was warm enough to run bare-chested, which it definitely was, and headed out.
Remy loved `shirtless runners' season, loved flaunting his body bare-chested in public, loved dudes staring at him when out on a run, pumping lean, young, upper-body muscle.
It would look doubly hot today, he knew, having McKinley along. Two blonde muscle-hotties would make a great show for any older married dudes out taking a walk in the Upper Park or out doing yard work.
Then, on the Cecil/Warwick blocks of the run, he and his bro would provide some seriously flirty eye-candy to the hot gay college boys and girls.
Increasingly, too, Remy was excited to flirt with the older, obviously gay dudes in the neighborhood he saw so often out on his runs, either alone or in couples. The 'Prospect Park Daddies' as he'd come to think of them over the summer, noticing all the hot older dudes out dog-walking or doing yardwork.
Crossing Franklin now, leaving the Upper Park, Remy steered them up Franklin and headed them down Warwick, the first `college gay ghetto' leg of the run.
Remy felt he needed to explain the logic of their run, so it wouldn't seem weirdly curcuitous to Mick, like he was side-tracking them up and down a couple small residential blocks, instead of just heading right for East River Parkway, their main run, on the long, scenic, bike-and-pedestrain path running along the Mississippi.
"Dude, you're gonna think I'm nuts, taking us on this weird, windy detour through the `hood, but you into this Cecil/Warwick area as much as me?"
Mick shook his bushy blonde head.
"Not really -- I mean, it's all just houses right? And apartments? And I don't know anyone who lives here -- neither do my folks -- so I never get over here."
"Fuck, bro, this is like a queer college ghetto! I got into it when we first moved here. Super-hot! Cecil Avenue is two blocks full of the hottest college lesbians, and the next street over, Warwick, is three blocks of smoking hot gay college boys. Probably half the houses and fourplexes on each block are rented by queer college students -- which means lots of hotties on the sidewalk and lots of hotties tanning nude on their decks this past summer!"
They reached the first block of Warwick and headed down the street.
McKinley gave out with a "Damn!" when they ran by two dudes -- bare-chested and obviously commando in mesh shorts, packing impressive college muscle and cock -- tossing a Frisbee back and forth in the street, in front of a house that featured four college boys on a deck built atop the roof of a tuck-under garage bordering the sidewalk (the usual style for the many decked houses Warwick).
The four boys on the deck were all out enjoying the sun, either naked or in skimpy underwear, on chaises or towels, sipping beers and chatting and laughing.
Mick let out with a soft `Damn!' Remy knew his bro would be into it.
"See what I mean, bro? So fuckin hot! I'll take us up the alley in back, cause it gets really hot in dudes' backyards or on their back decks -- not just lots of naked frisbee and football and shit, but serious public sex. The alleys are like triple-X-rated."
Mick's eyes took in more hot college boys as Remy kept talking.
"Then I like to head up Cecil, to scope out the Sapphic action. Then we can run accross the freeway bridge, to the river. I like to make the rounds of these blocks on the way back, too. Totally love perving on the gay college hotties. Awesome we have this in our neighborhood -- it's like a queer Haight-Ashbury."
Though admittedly compelling -- scantily clad hot girls, most inked, with crazy-sexy hair, lots of bare breasts on decks and porches -- McKinley didn't appreciate the Cecil blocks quite as much as Remy did, not as much as the three blocks of bare-chested college muscle on Warwick.
Mick thanked Remy, as they headed down Sharon Avenue, to the pedestrian bridge over the freeway.
"Again, bro, mad props -- you have given me a great gift."
"Hell yes I did! I take those blocks at least once every time I run now. Nice testosterone jolt for the road."
As they got into their running rhythm on the beautiful, nicely wooded trail along the river, McKinley told Remy how cool it was, being able to run with him. Remy extended an open invitation.
"I run along the river like this just about every day, Mick, alternating three- and five-mile runs. Love to have you along whenever."
"Fuck, that'd be hot as hell, Rem. I wanna get even more defined -- like you, bro. You're seriously jacked, dude. It's so damn hot. Love to have those sick cuts, Rem."
"Won't take you too long, Mick. Your body is already super-toned, hot as fuck. Tweaking it with regular cardio can only make it hotter. You should definitely come with me again tomorrow morning -- five miles, and I'm running with Willy Stevens. You know him?"
Mick couldn't believe it. One of his Top 5 No Hope Pin-Up Boys.
"Hell yeah! Dude is fucking gorgeous. Total alpha. Love checking that dude out in the halls. Got hip to him the first day of classes. Sexy as fuck, great braids."
"Big-ass dick, plus he's so damn cool. Willy's got everything -- total package. We gotta couple of classes together, plus he's in PE with me, which is hot as fuck. Willy and Trey Washington and I hook up in the showers after class -- jacking each other, sucking, fucking sometimes. Off the damn hook! Every damn day, hottest damn sex with the hottest damn dudes. Last-hour PE rocks, perfect way to end the school day."
"Sounds hot as fuck, bro! All the dudes in my gym class do is jack in front of each other."
"Make a move. Ask a dude to suck his dick. Hell yeah he wants that shit. Specially you a white boy wanna get up on some luscious black cock."
"I'mma try that, bro. You inspire me, dawg. I'll let you know how it goes. But hell yeah, fucking love to run with you and Willy tomorrow. Thanks, Rem. Seriously, man -- thanks for everything, bro!"
"You and Willy will really hit it off. Dude is hella into hot white boys."
McKinley's cock started throbbing like a geiger counter at being thought `hot,' and the thought of sex with Remy and Willy.
"Fuck! To get with you and Willy? That'd be unreal hot."
"It will be, no doubt. We just go straight to No Hope after our run, to check out Teen Town."
"Heard about that, but never been. Cool?"
Remy let a loud laugh explode from his lungs, and echo out into the tall trees, as they ran along East River Parkway. His voice went up a notch with excitement.
"Dude! The coolest -- Antarctica. You gonna be rocked, my man. Here's the stylo -- we end our run at the front steps of school, then head for the weight room. Which will be packed with seriously hot black boys, the hottest boys you see in your classes and in the halls, all bare-chested, most dudes lifting in just jock straps."
Mick's dick started hiccupping violently.
"You ain't serious, right?"
"Wrong, dude, I am. It's like a vision of what heaven will be like -- flauntin muscle, gettin pumped, in the midst of the sexiest fucking eye-candy in any weight room ever. The ultimate horny-boy workout fantasy."
"Sounds so fucking hot!"
"You got that right. Plus, killer workout -- you got all that naked black muscle on display, mainlining testosterone into every fibre of your body, a body already pumped and ripe for gains from the long run we had."
"I am so down for this, bro."
"Hold that thought, bro, cause it gets even better. After we lift? It's time to join the non-stop, black-boy orgy, already in progress, and going on all day at Teen Town in the locker room and showers."
"Say again?"
"The locker room and showers at school, on Saturday mornings, are like an triple-X gay health club for black boys -- and any white dudes hip to it. I mean, I ask you, as one horny, young, gay, white-boy jock to another, what's your hottest gym j/o fantasy? A bunch of hot black boys, seriously built, naked and jacking and sucking and fucking in the locker room and showers? Am I right?"
Mick looked amazed.
"That'd be it -- ultimate gym stroke-fantasy for me right there."
"Dude, that's exactly what this is. Both rooms -- locker-room and showers -- packed with gorgeous, seriously horny black dudes, sucking and fucking, jacking and kissing, non-stop -- an ever-roiling wave of gleaming black muscle and lips and ass and dick. Couples, twosomes, threesomes, foursomes. First-year boys jacking while they watch the older boys suck and fuck, and then the young'uns get pounded. Bracing, wot?"
"You're shitting me, obviously."
"I shit you not. Blew my damn mind."
"Damn! Cannot fucking wait."
"If it's like last week, we'll be the only white dudes there. Just us and the cream of No Hope's sexiest black boys."
McKinley laughed in utter arousal, barely believing the ultimate stroke-fantasy reality Remy described.
"Dude, you realize I am like hard as fuck thinking about this now. So many amazing things to love about going to No Hope, but all the insanely hot black boys everywhere has to be the best thing."
"You're gonna find out just how hot those black boys be, too, dawg -- now that you're officially out as a gay white-boy hottie at school."
McKinley did a double-take.
"Am I out at school? Do dudes know I'm gay?"
"They will when they see Wren's video. You're the McKinley' in Remy and McKinley,' bro."
Mick cracked up, but then realized the import of what Remy said, and the seriously hot sex-cred he'd have at school now, how his life had turned on a dime yesterday.
"Fuck -- Remy, seriously, bro -- this has been like the greatest twenty-whatever hours of my life, meeting you, being with you, getting a crash-course in being a sexy boy. I feel like my life's just now finally starting, bro! Thanks to you! I owe you so damn much, dude."
"Tell you what -- lemme dick you down again after our run, and we'll call ourselves even."
Mick laughed, and answered in proper Minnesotan.
"Heckuva deal, bro!"
Finished with the River Parkway leg, they ran back across the freeway bridge into the Lower Park, did another circuit through the gayborhood. It was in the alley behind Warwick they found the real eye-candy: a daisy-chain of cock-sucking college hotties on a back deck, very visible from the alley, and another yard with nude, rowdy, jock-bros enjoying back-yard horseplay with a hose and super-soakers.
Heads spinning from gay college-boy hotness, they headed back to Remy's house.
In Remy's room, they stripped down to their jocks.
With testosterone raging through them after their three-mile run, especially after just running past all those hot college boys on Warwick again, there was no question Remy's usual post-run, pull-ups/crunches/yoga stretches routine would have to wait -- these boys were too hard and hungry for each other.
They boys began mad muscle-worship and kissing, then licking each other all over, not even bothering to towel off their thick sheen of sweat, too hard and raw and eager, loving the tang from thirsty tongues gliding across hard, slick, salty skin.
McKinley loved that they'd left their jocks on. He couldn't count how many times he'd jacked off to hot dudes wearing jock straps in porn, and the ones he and Remy wore had the benefit of being sweat-soaked from their run. Remy's jock, plastered against his thick bulge, looked particularly sexy, Mick thought, and it reeked with the ripe, heady scent of horny teen-boy musk.
Remy's propulsive lust tackled Mick onto his floor mattress, where the boys writhed, eager to rut, kissing hungrily.
Remy flipped his body around. Each boy quickly fished his bro's hardened cock out from beneath the sweat-drenched mesh to sixty-nine insatiably.
McKinley focused intently on what he was doing. He planned to master cock-sucking like he'd mastered a host of other initially difficult boy feats, like working out, swimming, tennis, and soccer, all of which he'd worked hard to get good at.
So many skills a boy needed to learn, McKinley thought. And he was finally getting to some of the most crucial.
Remy's cock was so wonderfully hard and long and thick and wet. McKinley tongued it ravenously, swirling the precum-coated head for a while, savoring both the salty tang of boy-meat, as well as the addictively satisfying fullness of having a dick in his mouth.
As inch after inch slid down his throat, Mick's ass tingled with the thought of the pleasure a hard pounding. He pulled off Remy's dick to croak plaintively.
"Fuck me now, bro! Gotta feel this dick."
"Hell yeah, bro! Love that ass. Then you fuck me, dude. I need it just as bad."
Remy gave Mick a quick kiss and told him he'd find them a good bro-cest soundtrack.
As Remy leafed through his record collection, the right album leapt out at him. Tim Buckley -- deep, soulful, sexy boy music.
After dropping the needle on "Love from Room 109 at the Islander," Remy open the French doors to his porch to let a cool breeze waft over their hot, sweaty bodies as the sported.
McKinley, lying naked on the floor mattress, soaking in the boy-sex ambience of the absolute coolest space he'd ever been in, kept his eyes locked on carved naked muscle and big swinging dick as Remy padded across the room.
Mick immediately got into to the hushed, cooing strains from the stereo, which seemed to whisper through the room -- the moan in Tim Buckley's voice sounded to Mick like the throb he felt in his cock.
Whether it was from the cool breeze blowing in through the just-opened porch doors, playing across his body, or the hypnotic tinkling of vibraphone and guitar drifting lazily over the room, McKinley felt goose-flesh prickling on his body.
Then, the sight of Remy's naked, lean-muscled body walking back across the sunlit room, dick swaying confident and playful as he strode. Mick fellt that giddy rush of delight a hot boy always gave him.
Remy sunk down on his knees next to his bro and buried his cock back in Mick's throat again, to get his dick slicked up a little. He started pumping, letting Mick get comfortable with it, then started face-fucking him, loving the sounds of his bro choking and moaning and gasping excitedly.
Anxious to get back in McKinley's tight ass, Remy grabbed the lube off his milk-crate night-stand, drizzling some over his cock, working some into his bro's hole, then he plunged his thick hardness in, right up to the hilt.
McKinley's ass took cock so fast now, Remy smiled to himself, loving how quickly he'd groomed the sexy boy.
The boys enjoyed a sublime round of slow, languorous long-dicking.
That was McKinley's favorite -- feeling the entire length of his bro's thick shaft ooze in, filling him slowly, exquisitely, making him gasp in wonderment, stretching him, going so damn deep, feeling so damn good, then easing in and out, sliding long and luscious in his chute, bringing him a pure bodily pleasure he'd never known, satisfying so beautifully this raw, new hunger that raged so wonderfully in him.
McKinley loved when Remy pulled almost out, held it for a beat, teasing him, thrilling him -- Mick could even feel his his ass-lips pull back from the girth of his bro's thick shaft -- then, easing his dick back in, Remy would almost immediately pause, leaving the head of his cock parked just past the entrance to Mick's hole, savoring the tightness.
McKinley learned to clench his muscles hard at that moment, squeezing down on Remy's cock-head, driving them both wild.
But everything Remy did was amazing, Mick thought -- his bud threw an awesome fuck.
Sometimes Remy would just bury his cock to the hilt, flooding Mick with its huge wonderful there-ness, then bend forward to kiss his bro passionately.
Sometimes, while they both enjoyed a steady, rhythmic fucking, Remy would keep pumping but start worshipping Mick's upper body and abs, tweak his nips teasingly, and jack McKinley's hardness or play with his ball-sac.
McKinley shot first, spraying seed all over Remy's chest and abs and his own. A few minutes later, Remy pumped a very satisfying load into his bro's ass.
Remy pulled out, and they switched it up.
McKinley rimmed his bro's lusciously sweaty hole for a while, drizzled some lube over it, fingered it in, then he reached behind himself and scooped up some of the cum dribbling out his own hole. He slathered it over his stiff prick and plowed into Remy's ass.
Both boys started groaning in sync, an improvised accompaniment to Tim Buckley's sensual crooning, scatting along in soulful boy-lust.
Mick had Remy on his back for a while, so he could gaze down at the sheer muscular perfection of his bro's sculpted hard-body while he railed him.
Soon, though, desperate to get his nut, McKinley pulled out, told Remy he wanted him on all fours, then he shoved his achingly hard cock back in and pounded his bro from behind.
Remy arced his back up, like a cat, to give his bro even better access to his hole. Mick loved the feel of his balls slapping against Remy's backside.
Tim Buckley's softly keening blues became quickly drowned out by the sounds of two horny jocks at their play, panting in loud, boyish delirium.
McKinley reached around and began jacking Remy's slimy, cum-smeared dick. Remy shot first -- seven abs-clenching spurts, huge ropes of cum each time, blasting all over his chin, chest, jock, and bed.
The pressure from Remy's powerful ass muscles, fiercely clasping down on his cock with each squirt, was too exquisitely pleasurable for McKinley. He erupted, a magnificently satisfying load, into his bro's ass.
Spent now, they lay back on the mattress, kissing and letting their hands run sexily over their bro's smooth, sweaty, cum-smeared muscle.
When they got their wind back, Remy stripped his jock off and told his bro to do the same.
They switched jocks, and Remy used the one McKinley had been wearing to wipe up every drop of his bro's last two loads, telling McKinley to use the jock he was holding to clean Remy's spunk up.
Remy set the still-sweat-soaked, now semen-moist jock he'd lent McKinley on his nightstand, to dry.
He told McKinley he should keep the jock he gave him, steeped in sweaty Remy-musk and covered now in Remy-cum, and huff it during j/o sessions, as he planned on using his Mick-scented jock, having it right at hand now on his night-stand, to stroke with in bed later.
"It'll be so hot, dude, stroking to Wren's porn-clip of us, sniffing your jock while I jack -- like Sensu-round!"
"Fucking awesome idea, bro!"
Their lust slaked for a while, it was time for their post-run workout.
They each did five sets of pull-ups on Remy's bar. Remy could do fifty reps each time (straining, admittedly, on the last set).
Mick was knocked out by how hot Remy's muscles looked as he worked them -- upper body super cut and defined, sculpted thighs and firm ass fitness-model perfect. That thick cock -- plump, smooth shaft, fully hooded in foreskin -- added the perfect grace-note to Remy's sleek, defined muscle.
McKinley grabbed his phone and started filming his bro, telling Remy what a hot nude-workout clip this would be to stroke to later.
McKinley's turn. He did twenty reps each for two sets, ten for the third set, then could barely gut out five, and only two on the last set.
Mick felt less-than-masculine in comparison with his studly bro, but Remy brushed aside the boy's shame and complimented him on his conditioning.
"You did excellent, man! Pull-ups are super-hard. Most dudes can't do two. I swear, couple weeks, Mick, you'll see -- you'll catch up just fine. You've got superb muscle-base, bro -- that's what really matters. And pull-ups give you, in my opinion, the best pump. So regular sets of pull-ups, to exhaustion each time? I'm thinking, with the muscle-base you got, your upper body's gonna be fucking ripped in a month. Shredded like me by Thanksgiving, guaranteed."
McKinley couldn't hide his excitement.
He'd been trying to teach himself how to get seriously jacked, like Remy was, for the past three or four years. To have a bro now who could help him finally get his dream-body was yet another in the panoply of riches the gods have suddenly bestowed on him in Remy.
Squats followed. Remy did five sets of twenty free-standing, and five with his back against a wall.
He demonstrated each exercise a couple of times, explaining proper technique, until Mick had it down. He amazed himself at being able to do the first five sets easily, but was definitely challenged on the five wall sets.
Push-ups next, and Remy knocked out a hundred, no sweat.
McKinley gave out after thirty and became frustrated again and cursed his shitty conditioning. Remy again settled him.
"Seriously, bro -- chill. Eyes on the prize. Wait just a few weeks, I promise. It takes a while to really get the feel of how to use your own body weight in exercises most effectively, but once you do, that's what's gonna get you super ripped."
McKinley felt his confidence return. Remy was the perfect motivational trainer. He went on hyping the benefits of his workout.
"You'll see -- using your own body weight is definitely the way to go. Weights are fine for sculpting, or if you're seriously trying to add mass, but for an everyday workout, you don't need weights at all -- if you know what you're doing. Just push-ups, pull-ups, squats & core -- seriously, dude, that's it. Plus, gets you not only jacked, but doing it with your natural body-weight gets you perfectly proportioned."
McKinley picked up his phone again and quickly wrote down his new exercise routine into his Notes. He wanted to be a sponge, absorbing every bit of essential lore that would make him as hot as Remy.
Crunches last. Shoot for a hundred, Remy said. When that became easy, start doing sets of hundreds.
They ended with Remy's stretching routine, which was a testosterone-and-endorphin cocktail for them both. Pumped from the run and sex and work-out, each boy feasted his eyes on his bro's cut, naked muscle, rippling and flexing beautifully now, ripe with balletic grace and allure.
Remy did an intense stretching routine. Mick loved it, savoring the delicious tightness and pump from working jock-muscle.
As Remy led them through his cool-down stretches, he grew impatient, wanting to rush to finish, and get into the shower with Mick. He went through the rest of the routine as quickly as he could, while still making sure to get a good stretch.
They raced downstairs.
There are few things sexier than having a cut, young jock next to you in the shower, watching him lather up naked, hard-carved muscle and long, plump cock under steamy shower-spray -- unless it's being able to lather up that cock and muscle yourself.
The boys excitedly soaped each other, growing quickly hard and frisky.
Remy got down on his knees and took his bro in, giving him a superb blow job to seal their first-time work-out together, another landmark in the boys' wonderful new friendship.
McKinley immediately returned the favor, loving steamy shower-sex with a hot boy.
Remy let McKinley suck him to a steadily raging hardness, then he turned the boy round, setting Mick's hands to rest against the shower-tiles, and started fingering McKinley, delighting the boy who'd been aching to feel that cock in his ass again.
Damn, I'm such a fucking bottom, Mick thought to himself, but it feels so damn good!
As Remy railed him, McKinley thought about how hot it was apparently going to be, tomorrow, taking a black boy's dick for the first time -- Willy Stevens' dick, in fact, and who knows which other hot black boys' cocks at Teen Town.
As Remy fucked him, sublimely, Mick thought dreamily of all the gorgeous black boys at school, and those outrageously huge, beautifully dark shafts he loved watching dudes jack in the shower after gym class.
Mick's mind played over how hot it was watching sexy, beautifully-built black boys under the showers after PE class, all that impossibly beautiful chocolate muscle, stroking those deliciously long, thick dicks, playing with their balls and fingering their holes, whooping and talking sexy and jacking until they came.
Imagine that turning into the full-blown Teen Town orgy Remy described, he thought.
As Mick felt Remy's hot load flood his guts, he pictured himself tomorrow, leaning against the tiles in the boys' shower, getting fucked by one huge black cock after another, black boy cream drenching his ass.
They dried off and headed back upstairs. McKinley got dressed to head home after this life-altering sleep-over idyll.
Remy sent him home with the coolest bro-swag -- Remy's still-sweaty, cum-sticky jock; three gorgeous drawings of nude black boys; two fat blunts; and a stack of albums -- some Grateful Dead, IN A SILENT WAY, JACK JOHNSON, and Tim Buckley's HAPPY SAD (the complete soundtrack from their overnight fuck-fest, Mick thought happily).
They had a long, sexy hug and a slow, sensuous kiss goodbye at Remy's front door -- directly across, Mick noted, looking over at it, from the building that houses the school that has changed McKinley's life.
McKinley hated to go, and Remy hated to see him leave.
Remy thought of something. He asked for Mick's phone, opened Chrome, and spent a few minutes loading five Grateful Dead shows he thought would make a superb intro to the band for his bro (1/23/68, 8/21/68, 6/14/69, 2/18/71, & 5/25/72), then handed the phone back to McKinley.
"Just gave you five seriously tight Dead shows, dude, so don't erase your browsing history or anything until you bookmark them. And yes, you will thank me."
They kissed and hugged and fondled again.
Remy's lust inevitably kicked in.
"Bro, you like football, right?"
"Hell yes."
"You want to come over for the games Sunday? I invited some dudes from school to come over and watch with me. Love to have you join us. My boy Trey's coming, Willy'll be there, I think, supposedly with some dudes he knows. Mayo's coming, and this white dude, Lee, from my gym class. Maybe Niece, from my English class -- Aeneas Franklin, you know him?"
"Yeah, I know who Niece is -- built like a fuckin linebacker and hot as fuck. And that Trey dude I see you hangin with at school is fucking gorgeous. This gonna be just football, or . . . ?"
Remy laughed, then pulled his new bro-crush in for one last, deep kiss and a crotch-grab.
"Oh, it's definitely gonna be a whole fucking lot of 'or . . . .'!"
"Damn! Thanks, bro! Sounds hot and super fun."
"Cool! See you tomorrow, dawg."
McKinley had a short walk home from Remy's house -- up Orlin, right at Tower Hill, then down the steep slope of Seymour. His house was just a couple of houses down from Wren Damson's.
Mick walked the brief blocks a brand new boy, one who felt cool as hell, now that he was suddenly hanging with the hottest, sexiest boy any sixteen-year-old boy just coming out as gay could possibly hope to meet.
Damn, he thought, I'm not a shy, closeted cherry boy any more, aching to get laid!
And tomorrow, he'd start hanging with one of the hot black boys in Remy's crew -- one of the hottest black boys at No Hope.
Mick loved that he could think of himself now as officially gay, as a boy who loved getting with other boys, who loved jacking with dudes, cock-sucking and fucking.
He could start lusting openly after boys now, unashamed. McKinley tingled with the thought that he was about to start having lots and lots of seriously hot sex with boys.
Life was suddenly the most ridiculously satisfying thing he could possibly imagine.
Busy tomorrow, Mick?
Uh yeah, sorry. Hangin with my bro Remy, going for a run with him and Willy Stevens. You know Willy? Like, the hottest black alpha at school? Then we're gonna check out the weight room at Teen Town, do a little liftin with the black boys, workin out in our jockstraps, then having mad amounts of sex later in the locker room.
Sounds hot. How about Sunday?
Sorry, dude, also booked. Gonna be a Game Day boy-orgy with Remy and his crew.
Hell fucking yes that's a hot damn life!
McKinley looked forward rapturously to jacking off throughout the rest of the day today -- in front of the mirror in his bedroom, in the shower, in bed -- to cum-soaked fantasies of what the rest of the weekend will be like with Remy and the super hot black boys in his crew.
Fuck, Mick just realized, am I gonna be part of Remy Lord's crew? Un-fucking-believable!
His dad was still at work when Mick got home. Professor Fenn had an afternoon seminar on Fridays and then liked to `hoist a few,' as he called it, with the graduate students in his class at the Faculty Club Lounge afterwards.
His mom, Kit, was home, and she was almost as excited as her son that afternoon, thrilled about Mickey having finally made some friends and having his first-ever sleep-over. She hurried downstairs when she heard the door and gave her boy a big hug, which he warmly returned in kind.
"So? I'm dying to hear! Good time?"
McKinley thought for a second how to answer that question. Every stoked-up nerve in his brain wanted just to blurt out the truth to his mother, in one glorious rush, letting her know the sheer brilliant heights of his happiness.
Should he say, `I finally come out at school, Mom! I'm suddenly having the hottest fucking sex a 16 year-old gay boy can possibly have, and hanging with the most gorgeous queer dude at No Hope and his super-sexy lesbian girlfriend, who makes the hottest damn porn clips, and oh, by the way, her new one's a scorching hot scene starring Remy and me!'?
Maybe not. So instead, he kept it simple.
"The best, mom! The absolute best!"
Kit's heart leapt.
"Oh, that's wonderful, darling! Tell me all about it!"
"OK -- well, my two friends from Drawing Class, Remy and Wren, both super cool, asked me if I wanted to come over and hang out with them at Remy's house after school yesterday. He has this amazingly cool house, right across the street from No Hope! And Remy thought, why not make it a sleep-over, since there was no school today on account of those parent conferences. We had a total blast last night, then went for a run and worked out together this morning. Insanely great time. Seriously. Remy's an awesome dude, Mom -- can't wait for you to meet him!"
Kit's felt swollen with happiness for her boy. He did it, she thought! My darling boy has finally made some friends! Oh, that wonderful new school! She'd loved being there today, and loves seeing what it's done for her son.
"I went to ours, by the way, Mick -- our parent conferences. Your father wanted to go, but he was busy all day with a grant meeting and students and committee-work and his seminar -- you know what that man's day is like. I got a chance to talk with all your teachers -- who all seem absolutely brilliant, I must say. Did you know you have two former U professors as teachers, Mickey? I think that's incredible, darling -- you're so lucky! Very distinguished faculty, too, from what your father texted me when I told him."
"Yep, I did know that -- but, seriously, all my teachers are awesome." "I certainly thought so. And they all love you, angel! I was so proud! Your two-week grade report was wonderful! Oh, Mickey, what a change from last year, right?"
"Night and day, mom. I can't thank you and Dad enough for sending me to No Hope."
"Mick honey, I do wish you'd stop referring to Hope Academy -- beautifully and brilliantly named, by the way -- by that silly nickname."
"Too late. All us kids call it that."
"One thing, though, darling -- even though you're doing so well academically, all your teachers said basically the same thing: 'Brilliant student, always prepared, excellent tests and written work -- we just wish he'd speak up more in class discussion!'"
"I know, mom. I've been sort of shy, sort of quiet these first couple of weeks. A hangover from that St. Paul School horror-show, maybe. But you'll see. I'm definitely going to start coming out of my shell. Just needed to get my bearings. And I definitely got them now."
She hugged him.
"A lot of students need a little adjustment time, they said, that's why they do these first-two-week conferences. There was this wonderful presentation in the gym from your principal -- who is marvelous, by the way, I adore that woman! -- and she told us the first two weeks are a key indicator of academic success. I'm so happy to hear you're doing so well, and that you feel like you're ready to take it up a notch and get more engaged. The absolute only thing your teachers said you needed to work on."
"It helps to have friends, believe me, and I'm getting to know some incredible friends now."
"So tell me all about the sleepover. What did you all do?"
"Well, we hung out for a while, watching vids and talking. You know, chilling. Had a great time. Then Wren had to leave around 6, `cause her folks were having a dinner party. Then -- this was awesome -- Remy and I made dinner! Well, Remy made it, but I helped. Actually, I helped a lot!"
"Good for you!"
"After dinner we played records, did some drawing, watched football. Then Wren sent us this cool video of Remy and I that she made."
"A video of you and your friend?"
"Yeah, from video she took when she was hanging with us dudes before she left. Just some crazy boy stuff -- you know, like Remy and I talking, goofing around and stuff, doing muscle poses, bro-stuff. Anyway, Wren turned it into this amazing video!"
Mick had quickly realized he probably shouldn't have said anything about the video. Thankfully, though, his mom would never see it.
"That sounds marvelous! I'd love to see it, Mick, if I can? I bet Leif would, too!"
"Right, sure -- well, it's on Remy's laptop. I'll ask him for a copy, but I kinda think the file is maybe too big to share. Anyway, more of the sleep-over -- this morning we woke up and went for a five-mile run down by the river and back, had this super-tough, super-great work-out after, and now here I am."
He flourished the stack of records under his arm, like trophies from a most successful hunt.
"Remy even lent me these albums! He has awesome taste in music. Plus, he gave me a few of his drawings I want to get framed and hang in my room. He and Wren are amazing artists."
McKinley just realized he was holding Remy's jockstrap under the stack of albums. He was praying his mom wouldn't ask him to show her the records.
"Now, is this Wren Remy's girlfriend?"
"Yeah. They're super-tight. Wren's seriously good-looking, and Remy's, like, incredible -- super-fit, totally ripped, amazing body, seriously [he was gonna say `gorgeous,' but checked himself in time] handsome dude, cool as hell. It's so tight being friends with those dudes -- they're like the glamor couple at school! Hey, I'm just gonna go put this stuff in my bedroom now, and change, then I'll come back down in a bit. I wanna talk about something."
About five minutes later -- records stacked by his turntable, drawings stored neatly until he took them to the frame store next week, and Remy's used jockstrap stashed under his pillow (after deeply inhaling his bro's intoxicating essence for a few minute or so, while he fondled his thickening prick) -- McKinley was stripped and doing flexes and muscle-poses in front of the full-length mirror on the back of his bathroom door.
McKinley had just meant to check himself out for a second, before changing clothes and heading back downstairs to talk with his mother, but he was captivated by his reflection. He was trying to see himself through Remy's eyes, through the eyes of another boy's desire.
Fuck yeah, he grinned, and got very into posing and flexing what Remy had called his "superb muscle-base".
All the middle school soccer and swim classes and his half-assed attempts at working out the past few years have apparently paid off.
McKinley thought about how Remy had depicted him in the drawing he did yesterday. Was he really that jacked? Or was that just Remy letting his dick do the drawing?
Mick pumped and flexed, trying to see himself as Remy saw him, as Remy drew him. He even got the hand mirror from his dresser so he could see himself from the back.
Yep, he had to admit, pretty fucking hot. He needed more work, of course. He knew that.
He wasn't flat-out drool-worthy yet -- not all lean and cut-to-shit ripped like Remy was -- but he definitely had good muscle. Plus a seriously cut six-pack -- almost as good as Remy's eight-pack, he thought, envious of his bro's insanely hot physique.
'A month,' Remy promised. Could that really be possible? Just four damn weeks, and he'd be ripped? McKinley was sure as hell willing to put in the work, to find out.
He grinned at himself in the mirror, his future playing out in his mind like a montage-sequence in a movie -- weeks of being Remy's running buddy and workout partner, weeks of fucking and sucking with the coolest, sexiest, most gorgeous boy he's ever known and the hot boys in his crew, weeks of boys being naked in Remy's room, after a run, working out then watching porn, worshipping muscle, getting high, having outrageously good sex.
And over time, McKinley thought, my body will be looking more and more cut every day -- until finally, at the end of his porn-fantasy scenario, he and Remy were fucking, only this time it looked like two super hot muscle-porn models, their elite-conditioned bodies writhing sensually on the bed, Remy reaming Mick's hot muscle-ass.
Hell yeah!
McKinley felt his hardness throb in his groin and his brain even before he noticed his jutting shaft reflected in the mirror.
He put on one of the Grateful Dead records Remy lent him, turned the volume up, grabbed Remy's jockstrap, and huffed it while stroking himself in front of the mirror, appreciating that muscle-base Remy praised.
Mick loved how jacked his body already was. Boy-sex was amazing, he thought, hard and horny again -- especially amazing when you have a strong, lean, athletic body, and so does the hot dude you're getting with.
Thinking back on how hot sex with Remy was, McKinley started picturing Remy's body, how seriously cut his bro was, how amazing it was sucking Remy's awesome cock, getting it hard, and taking it up his ass.
Fuck! He seriously wanted to get with a boy right now -- suck and finger and fuck and muscle-worship for like an hour, then more in the shower.
Mick felt his boy-lust course through him like a super-power.
He reached for his phone and texted Remy they should face-time, then set down his phone at just the right angle, so his bro would see him sniffing Remy's nasty, crusty jock while jacking a rock-hard cock.
Remy called him at once, naked himself, grinning, looking so damn gorgeous, and holding McKinley's jock.
Together the new 'Bate Bros,' as Remy called them, watched each other jack their big-ass dicks, telling each other how hard they were getting, how close to cumming, how hot their bro looked, what a gorgeous cock he had, synching the rhythm of their stroking as they lewdly described what they'd like to do with their bro, until they both came within seconds of each other.
Mick thought it was hot as fuck.
They gazed dreamy-eyed at each other's handsome faces, smiling in post-bro phone-sex bliss, as they sucked semen off their fingers.
McKinley air-kissed Remy goodbye and told him he wished he could suck his bro's gorgeous cock right now. Remy laughed, air-kissed him goodbye, tongued his lips lusciously, then licked his phone screen, before clicking off the call.
My new life, McKinley thought, awesome as fuck!
He was loving being naked in his room like that, so he clicked some gay porn on his laptop and played it through his wall-mounted flat-screen, the way Remy did (why had he never thought to do that before, he wondered).
Mick flipped over the Dead album and boosted the sound louder and went back to posing in front of the mirror, grooving his body to the music now, stroking his cock to a clip of two insanely hot, lean-muscled, big-dicked dudes sixty-nining, absolutely loving the life he was finally living -- and going to be living from now on.
After jacking out another load, McKinley wanted to get dressed and go down to talk with his mom.
Thinking about what to wear, he wondered if he could bring a little subtle, hot-boy gay-flair to his look.
He put on his tightest tight T, one he'd stopped wearing because he thought it had gotten way too small and made him look gay -- it definitely did, and showed off his muscle and abs really well.
He suddenly remembered that hemp necklace his father had brought home for him as a souvenir, from when he went to a conference in San Diego. Mick had immeditely buried it deep in a dresser drawer after receiving it because he thought it looked gay as fuck.
He dug it out and put it on. It looked hot as hell.
So hot, in fact, Mick wondered about maybe going bare-chested, with just that sexy necklace draped around his neck, to accent his pecs and make his delts pop.
McKinley quickly stripped off the T, and sure enough, with his bushy blonde hair and the knotted hemp necklace, he looked like some super-sexy surfer-boy.
It would be seriously hot to get his nipples pierced, Mick thought, tweaking them, playing with them, getting them hard, amazed at how hot he looked.
He started getting chubbed, imagining Remy playing with his nipple rings while they made out and watched porn.
McKinley went to his bathroom, got his hands wet, and finger-styled his hair, which was definitely starting to look really good long. He rubbed a dab of product through it, giving it more thickness, amping up his gay-surfer vibe.
He should think about adding highlights, maybe. That could look seriously hot. He'd ask Wren about that.
McKinley slipped on the pair jeans that looked best on him -- an old, faded pair of Carhartt's -- deciding to wear them commando.
Damn, did that look hot!
The jeans hung super-low and sexy off his hips. The waist drooped low enough so that he'd be showing off a good half-inch of top-hair if he hadn't kept his pubes shaved. Every inch of his thick dick -- the shaft, head, and balls -- was outlined perfectly under the worn denim, looking mouth-watering as fuck.
Barefoot, too, he thought! Big boney feet are so damn sexy on a boy.
McKinley smiled at his reflected transformation.
Sexy as fuck, bro! That's what I'm talkin about! This how a hot boy be lookin!
McKinley wondered whether his mom would say anything when she saw his newly tweaked look, if she'd even notice -- no shirt, no underwear, barefoot, necklace (!), and hair just a teeny bit gayer-looking.
Even if she did notice the subtle change in his style, though, would she realize what it meant? What it was telling her about her son now?
Mick's bare, boney feet sped him quickly down the carpeted stairs, into their large, beautifully appointed foyer, then on through their elegant dining room, and into his mother's recently (and very tastefully) remodeled kitchen, where she was fixing lunch for them.
Kit had called out to him when she heard him walking through the dining room.
"I'm fixing tuna salad, Mickey. How does that sound?"
Mick took that as a perfect opening for the conversation he wanted to have with her.
"OK, this is exactly what I want to talk about, Mom. I mean, it sounds delicious, of course -- I love your tuna salad -- but why are you the one always fixing meals? I can't speak for Dad, but why aren't I cooking more? Doing, like, a dinner or two every week? Why am I not carrying my weight, meal-wise? Planning menus, shopping, making dinners -- why does that all fall on you? Cause it's definitely starting to bug me."
Was McKinley imagining things, he wondered -- as he voiced his complaint -- or had his mother instantly raised her eyebrows when first noticing his bare chest, letting her gaze linger on his body all the while he'd been venting?
And now -- her eyes were staring right at his cock, weren't they?
I am fucking loving my new look, McKinley thought excitedly! Makes even my own damn mother want to check me out!
Mick felt his dick begin to chub deliciously.
Kit put down the stalk of celery she was holding and went to her son, pulling him into a hug.
"Darling, I would LOVE it if you volunteered to make a meal or two every week! I'll help you any way I can."
"No! No help! I got this. I'm gonna start making at least one dinner a week, starting tonight. OK?"
"'OK'? It's lovely! But Mick, what brought this on? It must be your new school, I think."
"Maybe. And here's another thing -- why in the hell are you and Dad still doing yard work when you've got a strong, fit dude like me around? It's ridiculous to knock yourselves out the way you do, at your age."
Kit burst out laughing.
"'At my age'? Why, darling -- I'm not even forty, and your father's only forty-one. And we're both in excellent health. I do yoga religiously, and your father works out regularly at the campus gym, lest you forget -- about four times a week, I think, between classes and meetings."
"That's great, but you two still shouldn't be doing any of the hard stuff. So I'm going to do that from now on. I mean, think about it -- ."
McKinley went on describing the new yard work routing, but Kit barely heard him, dazzlingly stupefied by this astonishing change in her boy. Literally overnight.
And it wasn't just asking for more duties around the house, Kit realized, he just looked different, like he'd aged or something.
No, not `aged' -- but something.
And going around the house bare-chested now!
Her mind was a kaleidoscope of thoughts all at once.
Kit had never really appreciated, she just realized, what a superbly fit boy McKinley was. He could do fashion ads, she thought, he was that beautiful. His hair was certainly gorgeous enough for a male model's.
Barefoot, too! Kit had always thought, back in college, boys with big boney feet like Mick's were soooo sexy. Bare feet got her instantly thinking about fucking.
The thing that had Kit most flustered, though, and she cringed to admit it -- she couldn't help but notice Mickey wasn't wearing underwear, and my, but her boy certainly seems to have a huge cock!
Did that happen overnight, too? Of course not -- just the going without underwear did.
Is that the style at school, she wondered? Imagine -- a school full of teen-age boys, all going without underwear!
The truth suddenly dawned on Kit -- this was all the influence of Mick's new friends, Remy and Wren!
Another probable truth took shape -- Mickey and his new school friends had sex yesterday, didn't they? And this morning, too.
Kit was surprised the thought hadn't already occurred to her -- but then she hadn't yet seen Mickey bare-chested and wearing no underwear.
McKinley was certainly good-looking enough that any girl or boy would certainly want to have sex with him.
But it was the boy -- Remy -- with whom he'd apparently spent the most time, because it was just the two boys having the sleepover, wasn't it?
She remembered how Mick had gushed about his new friend earlier, like a smitten schoolboy.
Oh my God, is my son gay?
Because Mick was giving off a distinctly gay-sexy vibe right now, Kit had to admit -- this deliciously sexy new boy-look of his, like he was trying (very successfully!) to look as sensual and beautiful and fuckable as he could, especially by highlighting his gloriously huge cock.
Bare-chested with that sexy necklace and his bushy blonde hair, Mick looked to Kit like one of the pop-star pin-up boys she and her girlfriends had plastered over their bedroom walls back in the day.
Of course, he's gay, she realized -- if you're wondering, you must be sure.
McKinley was gay! And he'd had sex with a boy last night -- probably a lot of it, probably this morning, too!
Suddenly Kit really wanted to see that video Mick had mentioned the girl made -- of Remy and her son doing `boy stuff'!
Say something, Kit. Say anything.
She replayed what she could remember of Mick's last few words in her mind -- ` . . . and it's not just cooking and the yard work, also -- .'
She composed her face.
"'Also . . .'? You mean there's still more? Mick, darling, what is this, a manifesto? Your list of demands?"
McKinley laughed. His mother had a great sense of humor.
"ALSO, I want to fix my room up! OK? Like really soon. So it's a cool place to have my friends over. I can do that, right? Don't worry, I won't spend much money. I just want it way different. Cooler."
"I think that's a brilliant idea, honey! You're older now, so of course you should have the kind of room a high school boy needs. And don't worry too much about the cost for now -- just figure out the things you want, and we'll tell you if it's too expensive."
She had to hug him, and his body felt happy to be hugged, returning her embrace so eagerly.
Kit loved stroking her son's muscular shoulders and back, so hard and sleek under his smooth bare skin.
Oh, my sexy, beautiful, gay boy!
She cooed merrily in his ear as they kept hugging.
"Mick, darling, I love this new you! Or should I be asking, 'Just what have you people done with my son?'"
They both laughed.
Neither wanted to pull out of the hug.
Kit felt ashamed, but she loved the exciting sensation of her son's cock, hard and full and long against her leg.
Embarrassed suddenly by how excited she was at the rush of furious desire washing through her, she instantly pulled out of the hug.
"You're maturing so beautifully, Mick! It's wonderful to see!"
She was going to chide him a bit -- ask if this was all Remy's influence -- but she decided that might shame him. Still, Kit felt it was important to tell Mick how amazing he looked.
"You even look more mature, darling. Older, and dare I say it -- sexier?"
She and McKinley both laughed. For her part, though, Kit was dead serious.
As for McKinley, he felt a cool vibe tingle through him, hearing his mother call him sexy.
"Hell yeah you can say `sexier'! Thanks, Mom, I'll definitely take it! No Hope is filled with seriously sexy dudes, so I'm trying to up my game."
"I have a feeling you can hold your own with the sexiest of boys at school, honey. I'm so glad like you didn't cut your hair, like you were thinking of this summer. It looks fabulous, Mick!"
"Yeah, I'm glad, too. My friends really like my hair. Hey -- I'll start keeping my own room clean, too, Mom, so no more picking up after me, and vacuuming and shit. I'm embarrassed to realize how I've exploited you for so long. So all apologies, and once again, I've got this now."
They kissed, to seal it, both excited at what felt like an even deeper, stronger relationship between them.
McKinley told his mom he was going to chill in his room for a while, then walk to Tower Grocery and get some stuff to make for dinner.
What he really wanted to do was strip off his jeans, put on some more gay porn, play that really cool Tim Buckley record Remy lent him, smoke a little of the pot Remy gave him, and flex in front of the mirror, naked, stroking his cock, like Remy had suggested.
And when he was high and boned as fuck from the pot and posing, he was going to put on Wren's clip of Remy and him sucking and fucking, and blow an enormous load. His dick tingled eagerly with the thought.
Kit shouted up after him.
"I'll call you in a bit when the tuna salad's ready!"
Kit stood at the kitchen counter, marveling over what an incredible and impressive change had been wrought in her son after just two weeks at his new school, how much older, handsomer, more confident, more `there' -- and yes, very, very much sexier -- her boy looked.
She was certain now her son was gay. And that he's just had first-time gay sex with this Remy boy, on whom he has such an obvious crush.
Mick's father, Leif, was gay in college. He'd often reminisce to Kit about those days.
He still is, of course -- at least, that's been Kit's explanation for their sad, stunted, sexless marriage.
She wondered if children could inherit gayness? Why had she never picked up on the signs before with Mick?
Probably because her son was just now feeling comfortable with himself, his sexuality. Thanks to this Remy, no doubt -- his first gay friend and lover and role-model.
It all felt outrageously thrilling to Kit. It even made her moist, thinking about her handsome boy having sex with another, equally good-looking boy. That beautiful body of McKinley's, which he loves flaunting now, and which Kit loves him flaunting.
It's such a confident body, Kit thought proudly -- muscular, mature, oozing with sex-appeal, ripe with the knowledge of how boys took their pleasure together.
Kit could only think of Mick as gay now, as experienced, as having an almost ebullient desire for boys. A desire that's always been there.
Can't blame him, she thought. Men are utterly delicious.
She was still buzzing with how downright hot her boy looked now, his sexy new style -- not to mention the sensation of his thick cock when it pressed against her, the memory of which still throbbed against her thigh.
Kit smiled to herself, hoping this Remy was as gorgeous as McKinley, hoping her darling boy was crushing on someone beautiful enough for him, and that Kit would start seeing this sexy young boy around the house a lot, and that Mick would be fucking lots and lots of beautiful boys now at his wonderful new school.
Hope Academy was mostly black, Kit just remembered! Was Remy black? Is McKinley fucking black boys! Being fucked by black boys! My God, how absolutely thrilling!
The tuna salad could wait for a bit. Kit needed to brew a cup of chamomile tea and think on all this.
Later that afternoon, after a highly satisfying stroke session in his room, and a great tuna salad sandwich, McKinley spent time searching recipes online. He had a major craving for a cheeseburger and fries.
He found a recipe for burgers with melted Gruyère cheese (the photo for which looked amazing), so he saved that on his phone. He also found a recipe for home-made French fries that seemed super-simple and which guaranteed delicious fries, so he snagged that one as well.
McKinley checked the kitchen to see which of the ingredients he needed they had on hand, and which he'd need to buy.
Kit was arranging cut flowers in a vase when Mick told her he was going to pick up stuff for dinner. She was delighted to see her son was following through on his dinner-making plan. She asked what Mick was making, and when he told her, suggested which cast-iron skillet to use for the burgers and added that Leif would love sauteed onions on his.
Mick biked to Tower Grocery, of course, because that was where Remy shopped.
Locking his bike, realizing how close the store was to his house, Mick felt ashamed he'd never been there before, but happy that he'd finally learned about it from his bro, because as soon as he stepped into it, he realized what a cool little, perfect-sized, great-vibe grocery store it was.
Walking through the store to get his bearings, Mick couldn't help but notice, having had to fight to keep his eyes off him, that the older dude who worked there, the only person working there, who seemed to be the owner, was seriously hot, a sort of thirty-something, sexy-scruffed, hard-muscled DILF.
McKinley was totally amped that he could scope out hot dudes now, savor the pulsation in his penis, and imagine seriously hot sex with them, without feeling guilty any more.
He found all the items on his grocery list and headed to the front counter, trying to flirt as best he could while the hot older dude rang up his purchases, unsure of the results, but very much into being sexy with a super hot guy.
Back home, groceries unloaded, McKinley headed up to his bedroom and changed into something casual to cook in. He put on a pair of mesh basketball shorts (commando) and decided to stay bare-chested, getting used to flaunting his jacked body whenever he could now because it felt sexy.
Before heading downstairs, he clicked on a very hot HELIX threesome clip of a cute white muscle-twink and two hot, lean-muscled black boys, both with amazing cocks, and smoked the rest of the joint he'd started earlier.
He stroked his dick through the soft mesh as he puffed pot and watched the white boy not be able to suck enough black dick.
When the roach wasn't worth hitting on, he clicked off his flatscreen and went down to make dinner.
As he trotted down the carpeted steps, feeling super high and horny, Mick could only think of the world of hot black boys that Remy claimed would be opening to him at school, after dudes saw Wren's porn clip. He couldn't wait until Teen Town tomorrow.
In the Fenn's mahogany-woodwork, expensively applianced kitchen, McKinley set his phone on the counter and clicked on one of the Grateful Dead concert links Remy had given him, playing it over his AirPods, so as not to disturb his folks.
He clicked on his two recipes and got busy.
Mick loved messing around in the kitchen as much as he thought he would -- given how cool Remy made cooking look.
The Dead show Remy had suggested, playing through his air-buds, made it an especially amazing groove, made prepping dinner like rocking out. He'd have to tell Remy how perfect Dead concerts were for spending an hour or so messing around in the kitchen.
Only one minor disaster -- he burned the first two hamburger buns he toasted. Fortunately, his mom's kitchen re-model included an amazing exhaust fan, as powerful as a jet engine, so the burnt smell and smoke vanished in a heartbeat.
His mother and father loved his dinner. The burgers were perfectly medium-rare, the cheese on them was melted to the most delicious consistency, and his mom couldn't stop complimenting him on how delicious his fries turned out.
"Darling, you have to give me your recipe! These are exceptional! I never make home-made fries any more because my first few attempts were disasters. These are perfection, Mickey."
It made Mick feel like a real cook.
Later that night, after he'd taken several puffs off the other joint Remy had rolled him, stroking out another load while checking out hot boys on IG, he thought he should go downstairs and tell his folks his plans for the weekend, that he'd be spending a lot of time tomorrow and Sunday with Remy and his friends.
Kit had asked him earlier, over dinner, given how he now wanted to do yard-work, if he could rake the leaves in their yard some time this weekend, and put them on the curb for the yard-waste pick-up on Monday. McKinley said definitely.
He'd decided he'd do it Saturday afternoon, after spending the morning with Remy and Willy (gonna be so damn hot!). He figured he should tell his folks the plan.
Mick thought about heading downstairs just as he was -- naked -- but figured he should stick to his script of weaning them a bit more gradually into his new life-style of chilling naked at home like his bro.
So he slipped on just a jockstrap. This would be a fairly major statement to his parents, about what he was comfortable wearing around the house now, about how unashamed of his body he was now, what they should get used to. It would be a short hop from there to bare-ass.
McKinley posed in front of the full-length mirror a bit, adjusting the pouch and straps (as well as checking out how hot he looked in the jock -- a white, thin-waisted 2xst he loved posing in.
His cock looked huge -- more than sufficient, he though, to show his folks how he'd grown, how he was coming into his manhood now.
Leif was in his study, Mick discovered, door closed, working on the conference talk he had to give in Chicago next weekend. McKinley knew not to bother his dad when he was working, so he headed to the living room where he heard his mother was watching something on television.
"Hey, Mom, can I interrupt a second?"
Kit paused her show and looked up, smiling.
Mick noticed immediately how his mother's eyes widened when she saw him practically naked in front of her, young-muscled frame clad in just a skimpy jock.
He was pleased she made no comment. Excellent, he thought, they're taking nicely to their training.
"Of course, Mickey -- what's up?"
Whe did his cock get so big, Kit wondered? Oh, what a gorgeous boy we've raised! His body is absolutely perfect!
Her loins felt warm and flushed, seeing that expanse of young, muscular flesh.
It was that bulging cock that had most of Kit's attention, though. She could easily make the whole thing out under the thin, tight pouch of his maddeningly sexy underwear.
Kit adored this bold new interest of her boy's, in showing himself off. That must be Remy's doing, too, she thought. What a roguish, sexy boy this Remy must be, seducing innocent young boys right and left.
Kit knew she was crushing on this phantom dream-boy friend of Mickey's -- without ever having seen him. She felt like a bewitched young girl in a Victorian ghost story.
Mick filled Kit in on his plans for the rest of the weekend.
"I just wanted to let you and Dad know that I'm going running with Remy and another dude from No Hope tomorrow morning, then we're working out in the gym at school for a while. But don't worry, I'll do all that raking and bagging tomorrow afternoon, when I get back. And then on Sunday, Remy's having a bunch of us dudes from school over to watch the Vikings game. That's cool with you and Dad, right?"
Kit was only half-listening, too taken with her boy's ridiculously exciting body, looking like a sexy underwear model.
Or a porn-star, she thought.
Thinking of porn made her idly fancy what it would be like to see her gorgeous, muscular, impressively endowed son having sex with another boy -- watching his toned, muscular body and thick, aroused cock doing outrageously sexy things with another muscular, similarly endowed young boy.
Say, the doubtlessly beautiful ghost-boy bi-lover Remy, perhaps. In the clip Wren made of them?
Remy must be an amazingly desirable, highly experienced, and effortlessly seductive boy, Kit reasoned, to have brought the gay out in Mick so quickly like this. A clip showing the two of them togethere, doing ANY sort of `boy stuff,' would be divine.
Kit was certain that was what Mick had let slip, that Remy's girlfriend had made a film of the boys fucking or sucking each other's cock. Kit figured Mick must have a copy of it, on his phone or laptop, and that she could find it if she searched.
"Mickey, that sounds like a wonderful way to spend your weekend! I love that you've made such a good friend in this Remy boy! I can't wait to meet him!"
"Remy's awesome! And we might watch the afternoon games on Sunday, too. Maybe even the night game, I'm not sure. I'll let you know. Remy said he'd have a ton of food for us dudes, so don't worry about me for dinner Sunday."
Mick realized he was starting to get a little hard, thinking about partying naked in Remy's bedroom all day Sunday, with a bunch of gorgeous black boys.
That first week and a half of going to his new high school, McKinley used to lie in bed every night, jacking to outrageously hot fantasies of shower-sex with the gorgeous, hot-muscled, big-dicked black boys in his gym class. He could hardly wait until tomorrow, at Teen Town, when -- according to Remy, who sure didn't sound like he was bullshitting -- all his wildest, late-night, black-boy, lockerroom-orgy fantasies would come true.
Fuck! Mick needed to go back up to his bedroom and jack again. He was way too horny.
He had a folder full of porn clips featuring young, big-dicked, hard-muscled black dudes sucking and fucking with hot young white dudes. He planned to smoke a little more of that joint and jack to one.
He told his mom good night.
Kit quickly got up off the couch and -- knowing it was probably wrong, but unable to help herself because he was just that gorgeous -- pulled her boy in for a hug.
Oh my God, Kit thought! His cock was so thick and big and hard! Oh my darling, you've got such a man-sized cock now!
Daringly, Kit let her hands wander lightly, `innocently,' over the muscular mounds of her son's exposed ass.
Oh Remy, you're an awfully lucky boy to be getting a piece of this!
"Mick honey, I've got to say it again -- I'm just thrilled at the change in you since you started at Hope Academy! It's like a dream come true! What an amazing school!"
McKinley hugged his mom back, kissing her, loving that his mother clearly felt comfortable hugging him so warm and loving and close, when he was near-naked like this.
That touch of her hands on his bare ass! Damn, girl be knowin how to stroke a boy ass!
Mick drew her tightly to him, knowing she could feel his cock. He felt proud to show her his virility, how comfortable he was now with his body and his sex.
"I fucking love my life, Mom! Can't tell you how happy I am!"
Kit was almost in tears, she was ecstatic for her son -- such a handsome boy, beautiful body, so kind and loving, and now coming into his sexuality in such a robust way.
To think she'd been so worried the past few years!
Mick scampered upstairs. Kit just stood in the foyer behind him, riveted on the sight of his firm, smooth, naked ass.
She and Leif were going to fuck tonight, whether her husband was up for it or not.