Wayward Island (Part 5)
How Billy Got his Cherry Popped and Red Feather Fucked for the First Time
By Jake Preston
Reader restrictions: no minors, no readers who are offended by explicit descriptions of gay sexuality. The story as a whole is a psychological study of gay athletic hunks who love nerds, and the nerds who love them in return. The story also deals with the problems faced by gay guys who live in rural areas. If these themes don't interest you, there are many other great "nifty" stories to choose from. Send comments and suggestions to jemtling@gmail.com. Jake will respond to all sincere correspondents.
Randy and Billy held hands during the walk back to the cabin. Red Feather and I walked behind them. Billy was apprehensive, as any guy would be who was about to lose his virginity to a nine-inch ramrod. He might have backed out, but he had pledged himself. Randy was randy. Red Feather was nervous about the role he was supposed to play, but eager to be with me, more out of hero-worship than lust. I was attentive to Red Feather. Lust took a back burner. I just wanted to make sure that Red Feather was treated right. He would freak out if the night turned carnival.
We sat in a circle on the quilt in front of the fire, sipping brandy. I told Randy and Billy that we would watch, and maybe take a cue from them, until it was time for privacy in the bedroom. Randy and Billy stripped. Red Feather wanted to keep his sweatpants on, so I did, too. "Before we start fooling around," Randy said, "I have something for each top to give to his lover." From his bag of toys, he produced two pairs of nipple-clamps joined together by a chain. "Pinching the nipples seems to have a positive effect on a bottom guy's asshole," Randy explained to Red Feather. "Just as important, the nipple-clamps serve as a symbolic reminder that the bottom must be submissive." Randy demonstrated by clipping the clamps onto Billy's nipples. Following Randy's example, Red Feather clipped his clamps onto my nipples. My nipples smarted at first, but I got used to the feeling. "I think Randy's right," I told Red Feather. "The clamps have an effect on me."
Pride flashed in the eyes of Red Feather. He had been assigned the office of top. Billy looked surprised. He thought things would work out the other way around for Red Feather and me.
Randy brought out a second gift: cock-rings for everyone. As if viagra weren't enough. We all helped each other with the cock-rings. Red Feather was okay with this. He stripped off his sweatpants, and helped me shuck mine. After that we were naked.
Randy had a third gift: a heart-shaped medallion on a neck-chain for each of us. The medallions for him and Red Feather were dark red, with white letters that red, "UNSTOPPABLE TOP." He gave one to me to give to Red Feather. He gave the other to Billy, who fastened it around Randy's neck. He produced two more medallions: pink ones that read "SUBMISSIVE BOTTOM." He gave one to Red Feather, and kept the other. Red Feather fastened the pink medallion around my neck, while Randy did the same to Billy.
Just when we thought Randy was done, he produced one last gift. "It's for couples," he said. He produced two heart-shaped pillows. One side was pink, decorated with a bright red cherry on a stem with two leaves. The other side was bright red, with a broken red cherry highlighted by a white background of spilt milk or cream. "The symbolism works better for me and Billy," Randy said. But Red Feather is losing his virginity, fucking a guy for the first time. It's a fuck-pillow, you see. You use the pink side as long as your partner is a virgin. It's up to you to decide when to switch to the red side."
Billy lay on his back while Randy lay over him in an embrace. Randy kissed Billy aggressively: he pressed down on him and forced his tongue into Billy's mouth. Whenever Billy tried to kiss back in the same aggressive way, Randy stopped him by thrusting his tongue into Billy's mouth. "It's called the kiss of the bridegroom," Randy explained to Red Feather. It's a signal to your partner that it's time for him to get into a submissive mood."
Red Feather and I took a practice session. Red Feather held me in the "bridegroom's embrace" and kissed me aggressively. When I tried to reciprocate with my tongue in his mouth, Red Feather tongued my mouth forcefully.
"Seems to me like he's doing fine," Randy said.
"Here's a tip about the nipple clamps," I told Red Feather. "When you want to give me a jolt in the nipples, just yank the chain, but not too hard. Let's try doing that along with the kiss of the bridegroom." We tried it. Red Feather enjoyed the chain-yanking-nipple-jolting ploy. He asked if this was where the idiom about "yanking someone's chain" came from. "Probably," I said, "but you can be sure that people who say this have no idea what it means."
When I was in college I had a friend --- a psychology major --- who said that I suffered from "Narcissus complex." I always thought that a narcissist was an unusually vain guy who was over-groomed, like a preppy, and whose ideal partner was a clone of himself, rather like looking in a mirror. Another form of narcissism, I always thought, was the belief in a hierarchy for gay men, with young handsome hunks on top, and less attractive guys lower down on a graded scale. Whether he's a hunk or a nerd, the goal of a narcissist is to obtain a sexual partner from as high up on the beauty-scale as possible. I never liked the idea of cruising guys and rating them on a ten-point scale. For reasons unknown to me, I always preferred the company of guys who were ignored or rejected. I liked the company of guys who were always picked last to make teams in football or baseball. To call that narcissism is as much as to say that all gay men are narcissists. If narcissism is defined that way, the word has no meaning. For me, when it comes to jocks and nerds, love is an equalizer. The heart wants what the heart wants.
As for being athletic, for some jocks this means to ability to overpower weaker guys. That always seemed pointless to me. I get the most erotic sensation when a weaker guy crawls over me and rifles my body. That makes me aware of my physical strength. The harder he taxes me, the stronger I feel. And I don't mind if a nerdy boyfriend takes me to a restaurant or a club just to show me off. I won't tolerate domination in other aspects of my life, but my ideal of a bed-partner is a nerdy top-in-the-making who gradually gains confidence and takes control. Red Feather fit my ideal.
Randy and Billy were sucking dick in a 69, with Randy on top. Red Feather crept on top of me in a 69. He noticed that Billy's lips dug deep into Randy's ass. He yanked my chain and kept the pressure on my nipples until I figured out that I needed to rim his ass. Red Feather was a fast learner.
Billy and Randy graduated to serious rimming. "I think it's time for us to leave these love-birds alone," I whispered in Red Feather's ear. I took his hand. "Don't forget your valentine-pillow," Randy said. We retired to the bedroom. I carried the pillow and lube. We embraced, facing each other on the bed. Red Feather didn't want sexual gymnastics. He wanted to hold me and caress my body while we whispered together. I ran my hands over the brown silkiness of his skin. It glistened to gold in the flickering light of the lantern.
One thing we talked softly about was Red Feather's six-inch cock. He felt intimidated in the sauna, because the other guys (including me) were visibly bigger than him. "Six inches is normal," I told him. "I'll bet the largest number of dicks in the world range from five and a half to six and a half. Besides, I'm not a size queen. One great thing about your cock is that I can get the whole thing in my mouth when I'm sucking it. Try that on Randy and you'll choke to death. Another thing, Red Feather: six inch dicks are resilient. They spring back to life more quickly, and they tend to stay hard. Guys with big dicks often have a hard time staying hard. Besides, you're not exactly slender. You've got a rather thick six inches."
Red Feather wasn't fully satisfied with my comments on the matter, so I continued with more. The topic wouldn't have come up, I said, if Randy hadn't been there. When an inexperienced gay guy encounters a man with a nine-inch cock, or bigger, maybe even twelve inches, it's easy for him to assume that's a standard to strive for. That's unrealistic, unless someone's got a magic wand that enlarges pricks. Straight guys get hung up about this even more than gay guys, I said. It's better to think of an oversized dick as one of nature's toys. You have fun with it and then put in back in the box. Some guys choose their partners on the basis of dick-size, it's true, but that's no way to make friends, and it doesn't bring happiness. Our conversation ran its course, and reached two sensible conclusions: Red Feather's dick wasn't going to get larger, and that didn't matter.
The silence of the cabin was broken by a loud howl from Billy, followed by yelps and groans. "Randy is busting Billy's cherry," I whispered in Red Feather's ear. The cabin got quiet again, until Billy howled a second time, even louder. Billy cried out to Randy to slow down. "A bottom is being born," I whispered to Red Feather. He kissed me passionately. He was turned on by the knowledge that this was happening. The cabin got quiet again, until Billy let out a loud groan. This time he didn't howl. "Randy's penetration of Billy is now complete," I whispered in Red Feather's ear. After a few minutes, Billy alternated between painful groans and moans of pleasure. Soon we heard Randy and Billy moaning and panting. Billy whispered hoarsely for Randy to fuck him. He cried out to Randy to do what he was already doing. We heard Billy moan in orgasm. Randy did the same, soon after. Red Feather and I lay in a quiet embrace and listened while Billy sobbed and Randy comforted him. I had never heard that before. It was sweet. They got up from the quilt, and we heard them drawing water in the shower. We said nothing. We refrained from insensitive remarks about the mystery of their union. We accorded them the same respect that we would have wanted for ourselves.
"You can enter my body now, if you want," I said softly. "I'll lay on my side with my backside to you, and you can fuck me from behind." Red Feather agreed. I got into position, and handed him the lube-tube. He fingered my asshole with lube, and slowly pushed his cock into me. He fondled my torso while he fucked slowly. Occasionally he yanked by nipple-clamps. Mostly this was accidental. Sometimes it was playful.
I invited Red Feather to mission me. "We'd better use the pillow," I said. "Otherwise there'll be hell to pay with Randy in the morning." I lay on my back. Red Feather propped my butt with the pillow, pink side up. Red Feather knelt between my knees. He entered me, and we kissed. Red Feather was gentle by temperament. His movements were smooth and slow, and he never stopped caressing my torso and my arms. I shot a huge wad of jizz. It splashed onto Red Feather's chest and dripped downward to my torso. Musky fragrance filled the room.
"Now you can hump me, and breed me," I said to Red Feather. "I want you to shoot some Chippewa DNA into my bloodstream."
We faced each other in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. Spurred on by an ache for release, and the musky fragrance of my jism, Red Feather's eyes were was more lust-laden than they had been before. The idea of shooting himself into me was erotic. Nature took its course. He humped me furiously, and gasped when he came. I felt the heated swell of his cock, and the liquid sensation when he seed found a new home.
Just when I thought we were finished, Red Feather presented an insistent new erection. I got on my belly and told him to fuck me from behind. "Go to town in me," I said. "Give it to me as hard as you can." He did, and he bred me a second time. Randy and Billy fell asleep in each other's arms on the quilt by the fire.
Red Feather and I washed each other's bodies in the shower. When we got back, Red Feather stepped over the bodies of Randy and Billy to lay more wood on the fire. We lay together side by side in the bed, bundled in blankets. 'How does it feel, Red Feather, losing your virginity?" I asked him.
"I can't believe my good luck, the gift of your body, Jake. My second orgasm was so strong that I feel like part of my gut was scooped out by an ice cream scoop. For the rest of it, you make me feel like a man."
"You are a man," I said. "Nobody here ever doubted your manhood, Red Feather." He needed me to tell him that. After a silence, I added: "I could never figure out whether a double-fuck like that should count as one fuck or two," I said.
"It counts as two," Red Feather said. "Otherwise, the top loses out on his hard-earned bragging rights."
"So we're counting now!" I said, playfully.
"You brought it up, Jake."
"I can still feel the physical memory of your cock in my sphincter," I whispered. "And your jizz gives me a tickling sensation up my ass. It feels like an army of miniature soldiers on the march."
"Somebody's gonna have a baby," Red Feather said, triumphantly.
I chuckled. "I think I'm gonna love you for a long time," I said. "You can fuck me again, whenever you feel the urge," I whispered in his ear. "This is a friendship, not just a one-night stand." We drifted into sleep.