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True Blue 10
WARNING:
This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a man,
a teenager and two MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part
of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is
intended to have serious literary value. As a friend once said:
"Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right to
censor an imagination, or dreams."
With that in mind, know that this story is not true, although it
is based on fact and some real events! Further, it is not intended to
promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and
boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western
society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The
sexual acts described in the story are the result of my gallery nymphets porn imagination.
I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to
perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love offends you,
if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are
under the legal age for such material, do not read further!
By downloading this story:
"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of
perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are
entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible
members of society capable of making decisions about the content of
documents they wish to read...."
The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has
been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story
cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in
archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed
in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. Reference is also made in context to movies, characters,
and actors that have become part of modern western culture. No other
implication about the true sexuality of the people mentioned or their
private lives is intended.
Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....
THE NIFTY ARCHIVE:
The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this
story, please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty
Archive. Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to
provide support. If you don't write for the archive, do the right
thing and support it with a donation.
True Blue by Ganymede
Chapter
18
The
next morning we awoke almost at the same time, and lay side by side,
listening to rain pounding onto the corrugated metal roof. There was
no point in getting up. With nothing to do, I soon got bored. I
hopped out of bed and scavenged through the piles of comic books
looking for my favourites, Scrooge xxx nymphs masturbating McDuck and his nephews. Bruce, as
naked as I was, moved in close beside me and read over my shoulder.
It was my job to turn the pages.
“Hey,
you know what I think, Bunny?” Bruce announced.
“What?”
“I
think Scrooge gets it on with them.”
“Huh?”
I was engrossed in the story of finding a lost civilisation so I
wasn’t paying much attention at the time.
“I
bet you he roots them when Donald’s not around.”
“You’re
sick!” I grimaced at him.
“Which
one do you reckon is his favourite? Huey, Dewey, or Louie?”
“None
of them, because he’s not a pervert like you.”
Bruce
groaned and pretended that I had hurt his feelings. It lasted less
than a minute.
“Come
on,…. Turn the page. I’m getting bored. There has to be
some dirty bits in there somewhere,” Bruce said with a crude
snigger.
“I’ve
read it before and there’s not.”
“Maybe
I should get one of By’s books.”
“Huh?”
Bruce
smirked and slid out of bed. He disappeared behind the fireplace,
leaving me to keep reading the comic. I heard the door to Byron’s
bedroom open. I heard Blaine’s muffled voice. Byron laughed. A
few seconds Bruce hurried back to the converted couch that served as
our bed.
“Man,
you won’t believe how bad it smells in there.”
“Huh?”
Bruce
grinned. “Hey, Bunny, why do farts smell?”
“Huh?
The chemicals are like rotten egg gas, I suppose?” I said in
all seriousness.
“So
deaf people can enjoy them too.”
We
both laughed, my giggles assisted by Bruce's antics as he pretended
to fart, smell it, then lose consciousness.
“You
know with all this fucking rain, there’ll be no surfing today,
at least for a while. Blainey and By won’t be up for it, that's
for sure. Not for a few more hours anyway.”
“Why?”
Bruce
smirked and pushed his finger back and forth inside his clenched left
hand, simulating sex in a way that even I understood.
“Jesus!”
I snorted, not wanting to believe he was probably right given what I
had witnessed over the last few days.
“There’s
nothing wrong with getting a bit of boy bum before breakky if you're
in the mood for it,” Bruce replied smugly as he settled back
next to me. “Hey, did you find any dirty bits yet in there?”
He flipped at the Scrooge McDuck comic.
“Nope.”
“You
ought to take a gander at this one, mate,” Bruce said
suggestively.
It
was a thin magazine about the same size as a comic book. It was
inside a plastic cover. I glimpsed the picture on the front and my
heart started to hammer. Under the shiny plastic film, the cover
featured a photograph of a boy with his back to the camera. His hands
were on his hips. There was a glimpse of his face, side on. He seemed
to be about my age, plus or minus a year. The thing that caught my
attention was that he didn’t have any clothes on, unless cowboy
boots counted. There was a five-pointed sheriff’s badge over
his face, almost, but not quite covering it up. There was nothing to
see, not really. The title of the magazine, ‘Cowboy Fun’
covered his bottom almost entirely. Beside the star was a sub title,
‘cowboys learn how to ride at an early age’.
Grinning,
Bruce turned to the first page. My eyes boggled. I was looking at a
naked boy. He was even younger than the boy on the cover, probably
eight or nine years old. This time, he faced the camera. The only
thing on his body was a toy pistol and holster. I stared, not really
believing that such a thing was possible. In the background there
were farming implements, what might have been an old plough. A few
tools, a harness or two hanging from nails on the wood-planked wall,
and some bits of metal that could have been anything at all. It was a
lot like the barn at Brindajari, but it could have been a barn
anywhere in the world. There was straw on the dirt floor and a few
bales of yellow hay. For some reason, the naked boy did not look out
of place. He was certainly having a good time given nymphets portaal
the big smile on
his face. I stared, not believing that I was looking at a naked boy.
He was,.... beautiful.
“Where?...
Oh man,...” I breathed in. “Where did best art nymphets
you get it from?”
“This?
Actually, it’s one of By’s. He bought a bunch of them
when he was in Bangkok last year. Pretty cool huh?”
“Yeah,….”
I licked my lips. I had to make myself breath as I studied the little
thing that peeked out from the boy’s groin. It was a lot
smaller than mine. It was tiny, with a rounded bluish young nymphets blue teens
head and a
barely visible pouch underneath. It was hard to tell if he had balls.
I wanted to sigh. It was utterly wonderful. A delicious, naked young
boy enjoying himself.
“It
gets better, mate. Wait until they learn how to ride.”
Bruce
almost choked with laughter. He held the magazine so I could read the
text at the bottom of the page. It wasn’t very well written.
There were even a few spelling mistakes, and the punctuation was
enough to give my English teacher apoplexy. The gist of the story was
that nine-year-old Timmy and his eleven-year-old brother, Ronny, were
going on a cattle drive with their father and two other men. It was
my first exposure to boy-porn, and I have never been the same since.
Bruce
turned the page very slowly, as if realising what I was going
through. By the time I had finished reading that first page and
studying little Timmy’s anatomical perfection, I was hooked. I
was breathing deeply, trying to slow my racing thoughts. I was
afraid to stop looking in case Bruce took the booklet away. All I
could think of was whether the rest of the booklet was the same as
the first two pictures implied. If it was, I wasn’t at all sure
that I could survive without my heart exploding. The Scrooge McDuck
comic ended up on the floor as I stared and stared at the second
picture. There were two photos actually, side by side images of the
brothers in cowboy attire. They wore leather chaps, cowboy boots,
checked blue and white shirts, and wide brimmed hats. No jeans. There
were front and rear pictures of the boys standing up. One picture
looked almost normal. The other photo, taken from behind them, showed
their bare bottoms and the leather straps of the chaps behind their
legs. It would have hurt like hell if they tried to ride a horse like
that. I gulped and read the text, finding it difficult to do because
my eyes kept darting back to their bottoms. They were pink and
rounded and so inviting.
The
story went on about how the boys liked to ride bareback with their
father. There was little left to the imagination, at least not to a
boy who had grown up on a sheep station. I liked to ride bareback
myself. One of my favourite things to do at Brindajari was to ride my
horse down to Callan Creek and swim in the ‘nud’.
Afterwards, I used to ride, still stark naked, going without a saddle
because it felt so much better to be bare on the back of a horse.
There was a wonderful sense of freedom that came from doing it, my
balls pressed into the horse’s withers, my legs clamped around
the sides, holding the mane with one hand and the reins with the
other. I wondered whether there would be best childs models nymphets photos of the boys riding
bare. Little did I know what was in store for me! I had no idea what
the story was alluding to when it claimed that ‘cowboys learn
how to ride at an early age’.
The
next page revealed that it was the heat of summer so the boys had to
take off their shirts to cool down when they were doing their chores
in the barn. It was pretty much a no-brainer. I did the same thing
myself. Still, I enjoyed looking at the full page colour photo of the
two bare-chested boys. They really didn’t look like farm-kids,
at least none that I had ever seen. They were pale and soft looking,
as if they’d never done a hard day's work in their lives. The
text on the side of the page was a complete waste of time.
“You
ready for more, mate?” Bruce asked huskily.
“Yeah.”
I almost gasped when Bruce turned the page.
Did
he realise what he was doing to me? Did he have any idea at all of
the powerful effect that the magazine was having on me. Barely eleven
years old and I was looking at a picture of two boys standing side by
side. With erections! The chaps were unfastened, but they still held
up about mid thigh by the next set of straps. Naked, hard boy-dicks
stared me in the face. One was as large as my own, the other a lot
smaller but equally precious, perhaps even more freedom bbs nymphets so. Finally, I gasped
in air to replenish my oxygen-deprived lungs. I couldn’t look
away. I didn’t have to touch my penis to know that it was just
as hard as the ones in the picture in front of me. I could feel the
skin tightly, uncomfortably straining, rubbing against the sheet. I
was completely unable to think beyond the moment. I fed on the sight
before with ravenous delight. I think I sighed once or twice.
“By
said you’d probably like looking at it,” Bruce added
teasingly. “Being from the country and all, you’d
probably get into it.”
“Yeah,…”
“It
gets even better, mate,” Bruce said suggestively. “You
want to keep reading or should I just turn the pages when you say
to.”
“Um,…
Whatever,… You turn them I guess,…”
He
started to turn the page, but then he put it back again. He was
teasing me again. I tried to grab his hand, but he jerked the
magazine away.
“Okay,
if you don’t want me to see it,… “ I grumbled. He
did it again, giving me a momentary glimpse. “Geez. Just turn
the stupid page, okay!”
Bruce
smirked crudely and causally lifted the page back. The next page, the
boys were squatting down to take off their brown leather chaps. The
hats were gone. Their erections were pointing up. The older boy’s
penis was a little bit shorter than mine, I decided. Like that, the
younger boy was a lot smaller. I was lost for words. My mouth was
dry. I swallowed again and again. I got a very similar thrill from
looking at Blaine’s penis. There was something incredibly
exciting about seeing another boy’s penis, especially when it
was hard and standing up ready to play.
“Next
page,” I panted hungrily.
He
smirked again, holding the magazine in the air so I couldn’t
see it. I dragged at his hand, pulling it down, making him laugh
until he gave in and let me see. What a sight to behold. The boys
were naked except for their boots. They were facing the camera and
grinning, each holding his penis between a thumb and two fingers. It
looked like they were wanking. In the background, there was a man
leaning against the wall, watching the boys from behind. He was
probably their father. I scanned the text for a moment and saw the
word ‘father’ and ‘dad’ several times.
Bruce
passed the magazine to me. “Here, you turn the pages for a
while, Bunny.”
“What
are you going to do?”
“My
hand’s getting tired. I think it needs some exercise.”
“Huh?”
I
wasn’t thinking beyond the image in front of me, wondering what
was going through the man’s head as he looked at the boys’
bare bottoms. I decided he probably didn’t know that his sons
were wanking, otherwise he’d make them stop. What would he do
when he found out? Or maybe he already knew and he liked what he was
looking at? The very possibility send an awesome thrill through me. I
readied myself to turn the next page, barely listening to Bruce.
“I
was thinking about playing with your dick, you dummy, assuming you
don’t mind that is?”
I
shook my head slightly and then stopped. I was giving in without a
fight. I wasn’t certain of what I should say or do. I ukranian little nymphos wanted
to keep looking at the last page. I wanted to see what was on the
next page. My hands trembled as I held the booklet, not believing
what I was doing, accepting that whatever Bruce wanted to do was
going to happen so why even try to stop him. At that point, I was
beyond caring whether I was a poofter, or worse. The magazine was
something else. The urge to look at it seemed to overflow reason.
Suddenly, I needed Bruce to touch me, to make me feel good. There
were no preliminaries, no gentle caresses or playful tickles. He
pulled the sheet down. His hand went straight to my groin, cupping
over my extended penis and holding it tightly. I growled and he
squeezed harder. It felt good, reassuring. I could not stop from
trembling.
Somehow,
I managed to turn the page. It felt like someone dumped a bag of
concrete mix on my chest. I couldn’t breath. I just stared,
forgetting about Bruce, forgetting about everything except what was
exposed before me. There were several photos on the page, but the
largest one was a close-up of the older boy’s penis being held
in an adult’s hand. It had to be his father because the man’s
fingers were grimy, with cracked fingernails and worn skin like a
sheep shearer, or like someone who had toiled hard for many years.
The contrast between soft, smooth, almost translucent skin and
work-roughened skin made me shiver. I wanted to be the man who held
the boy’s penis even if it meant having hands like that. After
a few seconds, I began to giggle. It wasn’t funny. None of the
pictures on the page were funny. They showed a sequence, from the man
coming closer, taking the boys by their hands and leading them to the
hay bales, then sitting them down. There was one boy placed on each
hale. Hurriedly, I read the text. I had to know what was going on.
The story made very little sense, something about getting the boys
ready for the cattle drive, so I stopped reading after the first few
lines.
By
then, Bruce’s fingers were gliding gently up and down on my
penis, squeezing the head tenderly. It was enough to make me groan
aloud. When Bruce slid under the sheets, disappearing from sight, I
realised immediately what he was going to do next. It wasn’t
Blaine, but it was the next best thing. In an instant, my heart
started thumping in my chest. Automatically, I dark nymphets tgp
shifted my knees
apart, then went to crooking my left leg up to the side so there was
no doubt that there was room for him to do anything he wanted, just
so long as I could look at the magazine. His fingers played gently
with my testicles. His head came closer. His warm breath grazed my
thigh. His fingers moved higher, tickling along my penis.
“You
are so fucking hard,” Bruce murmured from underneath the sheet.
He
pulled my penis down and let it slap back against my tummy.
“Ouch.
Hey, no doing that. It hurts.”
Bruce
laughed and did it again. I didn’t complain. What was the
point? He would do whatever he wanted and we both knew it. Besides, I
was already looking at the next page. I didn’t believe what I
was seeing. The oldest boy was lying back on the hay bale, his
brother leaning closer to watch. His knees were wide apart and the
man was kneeling down between them. It was very obvious what was
going to happen next. As I felt Bruce’s lips smooch wetly along
my penis, I groaned loudly. The same thing was happening on the page
in front of me. In case there was any doubt, there were several
different angles, all of them featuring the boy’s penis
disappearing inside the man’s mouth. I had never seen anything
like it. Seeing it happen was so very different to feeling Blaine do
that to me in the cloak of night, or Bruce for that matter. I
couldn’t think of anything else. My eyes went from one picture
to another in an endless cycle.
“What
page are you up to now, Bunny?” came Bruce’s muffled
voice.
I
felt him licking around between my thighs, his tongue swirling over
my balls, pushing them around. His fingers were probing close to my
bottom. I lifted my leg even higher, almost turning onto my side to
give him access. If he wanted to stick his finger in my bum-hole, I
wasn’t going to stop him.
“He’s
doing it,… you know,… what you’re doing to me,”
I managed to say.
As
I fingered the corner of the page, ready to turn to the next page, I
noticed that the paper was stained on the edges. It felt like it was
almost glued to the next page. Then, as Bruce’s mouth slipped
over my penis, his finger pushed at my opening. I stifled a gasp
because it went straight inside. It was wet and slippery and it
wriggled through my anus and kept going deeper and deeper into me. I
stared and stared at how the man’s mouth seemed to devour the
boy’s penis, imagining what came next. I could feel sexy nymphet free Bruce's
finger wriggling around. It seemed as if it was right up inside me.
All of a sudden, his finger pressed into something that made me
shudder. I twitched, tightening, making myself relax, trying to
resist the impulse to push his finger out. Gradually, the weird
pressure faded.
Finally,
when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I tried to turn the page.
They were stuck together. I managed to get the bottom edge lifted up
far enough that I could get a sideways glimpse. It was getting
increasingly difficult to concentrate, but I did make out what looked
to be a repeat nymphet homepage of the same series, except the angles were slightly
different and pedo nymphets boy’s penis was smaller. I wanted badly to see
those photos of the younger boy and his father. I pried at the
pages, breathing hard, but they weren’t going to come apart
easily.
“Some
of the pages are stuck together,” I complained.
Bruce
stopped sucking my penis to answer. “Yeah, I know. Tell that to
By ,why don’t you?”
“What
is it?”
“What
do you think?”
“I
don’t know.
“It’s
spunk you drongo.”
“Gross.
How did it get there?” I took my hand away, looking at my
fingers.
“How
do fucking think? He’s always wanking while he looks at them.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah,
really. So you like the pictures a lot, huh?”
“They’re
neat,…. kind of,” I squeaked.
Bruce
laughed and went back to sucking on my penis. I moved on to the next
page, feeling relieved for a reason I didn’t understand. Maybe
it was because Bruce didn’t mind me looking at the magazine, or
because he made it seem that there nude nymphets skinny girls was nothing wrong with me looking
at it. Either way, I felt much better. I lay back, content, barely
aware that Bruce was enjoying himself as much as I was. His finger
bored deeper and deeper into my bottom, coming free every so often.
When it returned it seemed to be even wetter. I assumed he was
putting it in his mouth, which should have been utterly disgusting to
me, but it wasn’t. Each time he did it, it felt better.
The
next few pages showed the boys hugging the man in various stages of
undress. Then, finally, he was as naked as his sons. While his
hair-covered parts didn’t excite me in the least, his
pendulum-cock definitely had an effect on the two boys. There were
several photos of the boys holding it in their hands or leaning over
and kissing it. In each one it got bigger until it was finally stiff.
Then, it was much bigger than Bruce’s, bigger than Byron’s
too. It was not just a little longer, but quite a lot longer, as much
as a few inches perhaps. There was even a photo of the two boys
kissing it at the same time, one on either side, the over-sized
phallus sticking out far beyond their foreheads.
It
was then that I came to the end of the magazine. I felt cheated.
There had to be more. My lust was racing ahead. I was piqued, pissed
off in anyone’s language, and there was nothing I could do
about. I turned the booklet over, and for the first time realised
that the title read, “Cowboy Fun One”. The ‘one’
was very small, and printed in a colour that nearly matched the
photo. On the back side of the magazine there was an advertisement
for ‘Cowboy Fun Two’, promising ‘more to cum’
in the sequel. ‘Cum’ was just one more spelling mistake.
“Where’s
part two?”
“Huh?”
“The
second part,… Where is it?” I demanded. I had to nymphetes rompl know.
Maybe Byron didn’t have it in his collection, but maybe he did.
And if he had it, I had to see it.
Bruce
lifted off my penis again and laughed. “Ah, that’s what
you want, huh? Hm… see,… the thing is, you have to earn
it, Bunny.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll
let you have it under one condition.”
“What’s
that?”
“You
have to suck my cock.”
“No
way!”
He
playfully grabbed my penis and squeezed. “You randy little
bugger. You need to see it so bad, don’t you? You’re
going to have to make a deal to see it.”
“Bruce,….
Do I have to?” I whined.
“If
you want to see Cowboy Fun Two, you do. It's even better than this
one.”
It
took me all of a few seconds to give in. My penis ached. It was
throbbing. My bottom ached for more of his finger. My heart was
thumping in my chest. I tried to say no. Instead, I gasped ‘yes’.
I had to see the next magazine.
Almost
as soon as the word left my mouth, Bruce began to move around, He
pushed the sheet past my feet and began to rearrange us. I suppose I
expected I would have to scoot down in the bed so I could put it in
my mouth. Instead, Bruce pulled me further down and clambered over
me. Suddenly, I realised what was going on. It was the same nymphet amateur models position
that Blaine and Byron had used only the night before. Bruce hovered
over me, using his elbows and knees to keep his weight off me. When
I looked up, all I could see were his sex organs. His cock was fully
erect and parallel to his belly. It defied gravity. From underneath,
his balls were enormous. There was hair everywhere. It wasn’t
what I wanted by a long shot, but I wanted to see the next booklet so
badly that I took hold of it and closed my eyes.
While
I thought about it, he kissed my penis and took nude nymphets ped
it back into his
mouth, slurping, licking, making me wetter and wetter, scooping up
saliva with his fingers and bringing it back to my bottom. He rammed
two of his fingers into my opening, twisting them and forcing in. I
grunted, not in pain, but in shock. It felt wonderful. So full, so
far in that something throbbed inside me. My buttocks jerked up and
drove my penis deeper into his mouth. With his free hand he held my
hips tightly, sucking hard. Then, I was jerked back again, yanking my
penis out of his mouth, forcing his fingers even further into my
bowels. Harder, deeper than before, and with a violent surge that
made me groan. His testicles smacked against my cheek. I pushed him
up and nervously brought the end of his cock down to my lips,
fighting the disgust. There was a slightly sour smell, not at all
like Blaine’s sweet sweaty smell.
“Suck
it,” Bruce huffed.
“I’m
trying to,” I protested. “It’s too big.”
“Kiss
it.” His fingers nymphets children rhythmically massaged my insides while his
other hand cupped my testicles tightly.
“No
way.”
“You
want to see ‘Cowboy Fun Two’, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m
going to count to three and if my dick isn’t in your mouth,
Bunny, you can forget seeing the other magazine.”
I
hoped he was teasing. He probably was. He liked me too much to see my
unhappy. However, it didn’t matter whether he was pretending or
not. A deal was a deal. I had to do it.
“One,…
Two,….Th….”
I
made it just in time. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. It
tasted a lot like Blaine’s penis, I suppose. Warm, sort of
sweet, strange in its own distinctive way. I wasn’t paying much
attention to the taste. I was trying to stop myself from gagging,
trying to open my mouth as wide as possible, feeling the spongy hot
head pushing between my lips. It was huge. The head of Blaine’s
penis was like putting a cherry in my mouth. Bruce’s cock was
more like a plum. A very big plum. I stretched my lips, pushing
against it. It wasn’t going to go in unless I pushed it in. I
licked the head all over. It was soft, slick, salty, slimy. A barrage
of sensations and tastes, all stronger than what I art modeling nymphet remembered from
sucking Blaine’s penis. I kissed it once or twice while I tried
to find the courage. Bruce groaned and went back to sucking on mine,
to twisting his fingers inside my bottom. His hairy balls bounced
against my nose again and again. The hair around his penis tickled my
cheeks. I had to take nymphets under nudes my mouth away just to breath.
From
underneath, I gazed up at it. There was hair all over his balls,
wire-like brown hair with a tinge of red in it. It wasn’t very
attractive. Even less attractive was the huge head of his cock. It
was bloated and crimson-purple and the pores were very visible. The
slit in the tip looked like it was big enough to put my finger in,
not a pencil point dot like mine or Blaine’s. My hands moved
slowly along Bruce’s cock as I tried not to think about it. It
was covered with thick wormy veins. Hair extended up the first two
inches. When I held it with one hand I realised it was going to be
uncomfortable so I used one hand halfway over the other to make a
tube. It was still an awkward thing to do. I repositioned my hands
closer to the head and squeezed. A clear bead oozed through the
gaping slit. I squeezed again, fascinated as the globule grew
steadily larger. It wasn’t spunk and it wasn’t pee.
Absently, my curious thumb rubbed into it. It was very slippery and
even though there wasn’t very much of it, shiny slime soon
covered the head of Bruce’s cock. Something suddenly became
much clearer to me when I did that. Finally, I understood where the
slipperiness came from whenever Bruce lay on top of me.
So
there I was, laying on my back and feeling somewhat squashed with
Bruce above me, trying to find the courage to actually put it in my
mouth. Bruce started sucking on my testicles, dragging against the
skin. I felt them go inside his mouth, and the wet soft warmth
enveloped them in much the same manner as the night before. However,
it only lasted for a few seconds before he lifted away and they were
free again. He started sucking and licking on the skin below my
scrotum, following it down between my thighs. Towards my bottom.
Then, the naked nymphetes pics impossible happened and I was too shocked to move. His
hands slid underneath toplist usa nymphet my buttocks and lifted me up, pulling my cheeks
apart, still kissing and licking as he came nearer and nearer to my
opening. Closer and closer, until I could feel his lips brushing
against my anus. Then the soft melting heat of his tongue as it
swirled around and around.
For
a few moments all I could think of was it was dirty there. However,
reason intervened. The last time I had been to the toilet was the
previous morning. I had spent the entire day in the surf. More than
likely it was spotlessly clean. And if I wasn’t, Bruce didn’t
seem to care. His tongue pushed harder, making me squirm and try to
push back against him. Bruce’s cock pushed down against my
lips. I let my lips open against the underside, giving it a clumsy
wet kiss, oblivious to everything else except nymphets lol nude
the feelings that
surged from my anus. If this was sex, I wanted more. Bruce forced his
tongue deeper, stabbing erratically back and forth as I panted and
writhed beneath him. My knees trembled as I strained and tensed in
disbelief that anything could feel so good. It was so much better
than a finger, either Bruce’s or mine, that I would never be
the same. It wasn’t dirty, it was wonderful, incredible,
overwhelming joy.
“Oh
God! Don’t stop,” I groaned when Bruce lifted up. His
cock came away from my mouth, finally allowing me to breath without
getting hair in my nose.
“If
you want more, then suck my dick properly,” he said coarsely.
I
didn’t hesitate. I reached up and brought it down, pointed to
my mouth. I opened wide, closed my eyes, tried not to think about
what I was doing. I had to stretch wide, so wide that my jaws hurt to
get the head past my lips. Then, suddenly, it was inside my mouth
and I relaxed slightly because his shaft was a little bit thinner. My
tongue kept out of the way. I held tightly onto the shaft because it
wanted to push deeper. Then, the realisation struck home. I was
sucking Bruce’s cock. Well, not really. It was in my mouth, but
I really wasn’t sucking it. There was no room to do anything,
but try my best not to bite it. Then, the slippery probing tongue
returned between my cheeks and stuck deeply into my anus. His fingers
pulled at the sides as he struggled to get even more inside me. It
returned to stabbing back and forth, swirling around, his fingers
kneading my testicles to pulp, or so it felt.
Bruce’s
cock started to thrust between my hands, jabbing far enough into my
mouth that I wanted it to stop. I gripped the shaft still tighter,
trying my best to keep it from going further into me. His huge balls
banged against my nose, dragged over my eyes, dangled on my cheeks
and forehead. And always, there was the incredible sensation of his
tongue slurping wetly, again and again pumping into my anus. His
fingers poked in there as well, pulling it apart from the sides so
his tongue could move around, or at least that was how it felt to me.
Deeper and wetter, and my heart pounded because it kept getting
better and better, except for his cock. It went further into my mouth
until I choked and then I shoved against him as hard as I could. nymphet teens
It
came out quickly and he lifted away from me as I gasped under him.
“Are
you okay?” Bruce asked anxiously. “I didn’t hurt
you, did I?”
My
throat hurt even through his cock hadn’t gone anywhere near
that far inside my mouth. Worse, I felt cheated and angry, although I
had no idea why I felt that way.
“I
couldn’t breathe with that stupid thing stuck in my mouth.”
“You
drongo. Breath through your nose next time. Don’t you know
anything?”
“If
there is a next time,” I grumped. “I don’t like it
in my mouth, okay. It's too fucking big.”
Then,
with the mood shattered because my tone of voice confirmed what I
said in no uncertain terms, Bruce sat up. He ignored me, wiping his
hand over his mouth. It was wet, as wet as it was between my
buttocks. I didn’t need to look at him to realise that I had
done something wrong.
“Man,
I’m not doing that again,” I said hotly.
“Why?”
“Because
it’s gross for one thing.” I made a sour face and shook
my head. “It’s not worth it look at some dumb pictures,”
I added meanly. “You owe me big time, Bruce.”
He
smirked at me and made a sound with his mouth that sounded crude,
like he was still sucking between my buttocks. I glared at him, but
he kept smirking.
“Are
you going to tell me you didn’t like getting a tongue in your
arse?”
“No
way!” I said crossly. “It’s gross too.”
I
knew I was being unreasonable, but I was upset. In truth, I didn’t
like doing it, not only because of all the hair but because of the
sheer size of it. More than that, my mouth felt violated. My bottom
felt like it was on fire as well. I felt empty. I wanted to stick my
finger in my bottom and itch like crazy. At that moment, I wasn’t
sure what I wanted, beyond the chance to be with Blaine and do the
same things again with him I felt utterly abandoned, as lonely as I
had ever been. Until then, I had not really appreciated how much I
wanted to be with him.
“Where’s
the magazine?” I demanded.
“Huh?”
“You
said if I sucked you,…”
“Yeah,
okay. A deal's a deal, isn't it? So go get it.”
“Where
is it?” I asked, knowing full well where ‘Cowboy Fun One’
came from.
“In
the bedroom.”
“Will
you get it for me?”
For
some reason, I didn’t like the idea of going into Byron’s
bedroom by myself, even if Blaine was in there with him. Maybe, it
was because Blaine was in there that was the problem.
“No
way.” Bruce smiled. “I think I’ll just lie here and
wank for a while. I have to do something to make up for young nymphets pedoland what you
didn’t do,” he added cruelly. “I wasn’t going
to spunk in your mouth, you know.”
“I’m
sorry,” I murmured.
“Go
get your magazine, Bunny.”
“Please?”
I
was close to begging. I had to see the magazine, but I couldn’t
go in there alone. I was so jealous of Byron and Blaine that I
couldn't think straight. And then, there was the awful excitement
because even more than that dog-eared pamphlet, I wanted to see what
Blaine did with Byron,…. just not by myself. I shook my head
vigourously.
“Will
you come with me, Bruce? Please?”
Bruce
shook his head back at me. It was all part of his game, and I was the
pawn who had been seduced by porn. He lay there, gleefully getting
his way once again. He was all but oblivious to my embarrassment, or
perhaps relishing it because he underage nymphets magazine kept smirking.
“Don’t
be a dope. By’s not going to bite you, mate. He likes you too
much. He might bite your dick if he gets the chance, but that’s
all.”
It
was clear that he wasn’t about to get out of bed. I got up from
the couch and meandered around the central fireplace and towards the
bedroom. My slow pace was intended to give Bruce time to chance his
mind. I reached the door and hesitated.
“Don’t
be a scaredy-cat, Bunno,” Bruce called out. “Just go
right on in. They won’t care. They're used to me going in there
all the time.”
I
opened the door. It wasn’t locked. It wasn’t even
properly closed. I heard them even before I stepped inside the room.
It was a sound I would never forget. A strange sound that reminded me
of paint being sloshed around in a bucket or slapped haphazardly on a
wall. Slap, slap, slap. Slow, erratic, sloppy sounds. I took a few
steps closer. Blaine was lying on his back with one leg lifted up and
draped over Byron’s hip. Byron was lying on his side, pressed
tightly up against Blaine, gripping his thigh with one hand and his
shoulder with the other. Blaine’s other leg was bent to the
side. It didn’t look like a very comfortable position,
particularly when his chest was sloping down. Then, I saw the pillows
that were under his back so that he was lifted higher. It explained
why his belly and chest were higher than his head, but not more than
that. From where I stood, I could see one of Blaine’s arms
crooked behind his head. His other arm rested on Byron’s
shoulder. However, it was his expression that took me by surprise.
For a few moments I thought he was in agony. His face was contorted,
eyes closed, jaw clenched, lips peeled back. It looked as if he was
being terribly hurt. And the sound that Blaine made, somewhere
between a groan and a whine that came out as ‘nnnggghhhhh’.
He gasped loudly each time that Byron shoved against him.
Even
as I watched, Byron slowly backed away. His thick engorged cock
appeared an inch at a time. It was dark, shiny, wet and slimy, and
huge. Seeing them have sex was frightening, even though I’d
seen lots of sheep and horses having sex. Further and further,
pulling that huge stake out of Blaine’s bowels until I could
see the broad dark rim. Then, without warning, Byron lurched forward
again and it disappeared inside Blaine. Both of them pushing, driving
it in deeply, smoothly, forcefully. Blaine groaned and said something
in a incoherent gasp. Byron looked over his shoulder at me. He smiled
slightly, holding his position deep inside Blaine.
“Hey,
Allan,… So what did you think of my cowboy magazine? Sexy
huh?”
My
face flushed, shameful, hesitating to say more, but realising that he
could read my thoughts as clearly as if had spoken them aloud. He
understood what was going through my mind.
“It’s
okay, mate. This is nothing you need to worry about. I promise I’m
not hurting him. You want to see the next one, don't you? It's even
better that number one.”
I
gave a feeble shrug. Blaine’s eyes were open again. He looked
at me, waiting for me to say something.
“So
what do you nymphets top100 reckon about this, mate?” Byron husked.
He
backed away again so that his cock eased out of Blaine’s body
again. All the way out this time. The swollen dark head popped out
suddenly, loudly, and stayed like a plum lodged between Blaine’s
small buttocks.
“Pretty
big, huh?” Byron said proudly.
I
nodded ineffectually, staring long and hard at that symbol of male
power as it nestled comfortably between Blaine’s shiny,
slippery buttocks.
“He
likes it when I do this real slow, Allan,” Byron panted.
Again,
he pushed forward and the huge knob made Blaine’s crack push in
an inch or more before it popped through the opening. It seemed like
it should have hurt terribly, yet Blaine barely noticed it. This
time, Byron didn’t push it all the way inside. Instead, after
pushing in a few inches, he pulled out again. He gave a tug at the
end to jerk the head through. There was another loud pop. This time,
showing nymphets girls model forum off to me, he directed his cock to the side and used his hand
to lift Blaine’s cheek to the side so I could see where it had
been. Blaine’s reddened anus gaped open. I stared, amazed.
“Now,
that’s what you call a bum-hole,” Byron joked.
“Doesn’t
it hurt when it’s that big?” I asked apprehensively.
“Nope.
You know why, don’t you?”
“Uh
uh.”
“Because
I’ve been doing him now for close to an hour, that’s why.
Plus after a year of this Blainey’s used to being rooted by
now, mate.”
”An
hour?”
“Yeah,
nearly. This is his second time around the track this morning, that’s
why it’s so messy.”
My
expression conveyed what I was thinking as I watched Byron prod
Blaine’s reddened opening with the engorged head of his cock.
There seemed to be no way for it to go through the small aperture.
“Trust
me, he likes it, Allan. He likes it a lot, just like you will after
Bruce’s done it to you a couple of times. You’ll get used
to it real fast, guaranteed.”
As
the words churned through my mind, I watched Byron’s cock slide
back in again. He barely pushed. In went in very easily, all the way
in until the only thing I could see was Byron’s thick dark hair
cushioned against Blaine’s sun-tanned cheeks. Then, they rested
for a while before they started again, both doing it energetically,
as much for my benefit as for their own. That was how I would always
remember the nymphet children pure fuck first time I saw Byron and Blaine having sex. They
wanted me to see them having sex.
In
truth, it was not nude nymphets art pics
at all what I expected. Until then, I thought sex
was something to be ashamed of. They should have been ashamed, but
they weren’t. It was obvious they both enjoyed doing it. I
watched for a couple of minutes I suppose. The sound was more than
anything else stayed with me. It unforgettable and unlike anything I
had ever heard. It was the sound of two people who were accustomed to
euphoria. So wet, so succulent, so incredibly effortless, the sound
of something sucking back and forth, intermingled with groans and
gasps, and Blaine’s seemingly endless whimper. And through all
of it, the thing inside my best friend’s body moved with a
relentless but erratic back and forth motion, getting faster and
faster. Blaine’s legs jerked around as if he had no control
over them, his hands clenching handfuls of sheet, his expression
disconcerting in its intensity. Whatever he was feeling, it seemed
to come in waves of panic, and something else that I didn’t
recognize, but which seemed to convey he was incredibly happy.
Finally,
I couldn’t stand to watch them any longer. Even the smell was
overpowering. I backed away a step at a time, reluctantly, although
part of me wanted to turn and run. I was angry, hating Byron and
Bruce, myself, even Blaine, because he was having sex with Byron and
not with me, and I loved him so much that it hurt. I would never
forget the awful feeling of being deserted by the boy who I loved.
Chapter
19
Even
though there were increasingly frequent breaks in the clouds over the
ocean, the rain came down steadily. It hammered down onto the
corrugated iron roof for more than an hour that morning, drowning out
speech from any further than a few feet away. At times, it was
difficult to see the car parked outside as huge raindrops splattered
onto it. And yet, there was something reassuring about the rain,
bringing back memories of thunderstorms that brought much needed rain
to Brindajari, watching the red dust turn into mud.
With
everything soaked outside the shack, there was no morning fire to
cook breakfast with. There was no electricity either. According to
Byron it was probably because of the wires getting wet, or more
likely a branch falling down and breaking the lines somewhere on the
hillside. We breakfasted on corn flakes and condensed milk that
tasted sweet and syrupy, looking at comics as we ate. All of us
sitting naked, totally shameless, because there nymphet xx teen
were no secrets any
longer. I had finally seen what I was supposed to see. I was part of
the 'family'.
Beyond
saying ‘hi’ to me in a much-subdued voice after he
emerged from the bedroom, Blaine bashfully acknowledged my loss of
innocence with an occasional knowing smile. Nothing else was said
about what had happened in the bedroom. I hungered to get him alone
so that we could talk. I had to know more. I wanted to know what if
felt like, how nymphets tgp nude long they had been doing it, how often they did. A
thousand questions needing answers.
Again
and again, my thoughts returned to what I had witnessed only a short
time earlier. That thick, crimson stake of flesh pumping in and out
of my best friend’s body, suctioning loudly on the out-stroke,
pausing for a moment before disappearing from sight. The details of
what I had seen grew even stronger the more that I thought about it.
Blaine’s penis was completely limp throughout the few minutes
that I watched. It was shrivelled up, so very unusual for him because
whenever Blaine and I did sex stuff, his erection was as close to
being rigid as it was humanly possible to get. At the same time,
Blaine’s testicles were knotted up and smaller than I could
remember seeing them, young hardcore nymphetes and if that wasn’t enough, they were
covered with slimy grease. It was all so clear in my mind that it
was like looking at a photograph. Blaine’s buttocks were
normally pinched in like mine were, but where Byron’s penis
penetrated him, they bulged out as if to make room. And Byron’s
cock, so thick and veiny, young nymph webcam glistening with oil and slimy as well.
Throbbing, bloated and dark red, straining, especially when it
reappeared after going in a long way. I didn’t say very much
during breakfast, but then the noise of the drumming rain prevented
normal conversation.
Eventually,
Byron stood up and walked over the window. He surveyed the dismal
scene outside. I got the impression that he wasn’t going to
mention what I witnessed in the bedroom unless I brought the subject
up. It wasn’t like it had never happened. Rather, it was cute nymphets biz taken
for granted. Sooner or later I had to know, and now I knew.
“It
might be Christmas Eve, but it’s going to be a real crappy day
for surfing, I’m afraid,” he announced.
Until
then, as strange as it might sound for an eleven-year-old boy, I'd
forgotten about Christmas. I perked up immediately, thinking of the
large suitcase that was still unopened in Byron's bedroom. There were
definitely going to be a few presents in there for me.
“Even
if the rain stops by lunch, the waves will be so damned flat it
won’t worth the effort of carrying the boards down,”
Byron continued.
“So
what’s the plan?” Bruce asked. “Maybe we could
drive into Coff’s for a while?”
“That's
pretty much what I'm thinking. It'd be a waste of fucking time going
in tomorrow. It'll be locked up tight like a virgin's twat, but the
shops will be open till 5.00 today. The thing is, we need to get some
food for the holiday. I'm almost out of beer too.”
“So
we grab the Esky (cooler) and head out?”
“It’s
too wet to get up the hill right now,” Byron answered. “I’m
not even trying until it’s dried up a bit. We might be able to
do it around lunch if the rain holds off for a few hours. Until then
I think I might as well spend the fucking time in bed,” he
added crudely. Then, after a quick glance at me, he laughed. “Or
maybe I ought to say spend the time fucking in bed.”
Again
he glanced at me, but this time he got no response because I kept
my head down and concentrated on my corn flakes. Every time he spoke
to me it made me feel weird. Increasingly, it seemed as if he liked
me as much as he liked Blaine.
“Hey
Allan, you're from the country, aren't you mate? Why do
shepherd's wear robes? This isn't a Christmas joke
by the way.”
I
shrugged absently, stealing a glimpse to see him smiling at me.
“Because
sheep can hear zippers a mile away.”
I
shrugged again, not caring that Bruce laughed loudly. Blaine giggled.
“How
about it bum-chum? You feel like another rooty-tooty after breakky,
or would you rather play with Cuddlepie for a while?” he asked
Blaine.
Truthfully,
I really wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation until
then. The Scrooge McDuck comic I was reading at the time was still
the ultimate diversion for me, even with Christmas one day away.
Maybe it was the idea of a rich old man, a goof-ball of an uncle and
three cute boys, even if they were ducks that amused me. I wondered
whether Bruce's observation was correct. Was Scrooge a pervert? It
was an amusing idea.
Blaine
moved his head, raising his eyes slightly to glance at me. It was
impossible whether he intended a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.
Maybe it was neither, or maybe he was trying to tell me something. I
turned away, still resenting that Blaine chose to have sex with Byron
instead of me. Worse, having seen how to do it properly, I wanted to
do that to Blaine myself. Just the thought of putting my penis inside
Blaine’s bottom sent a powerful surge through me. Then, Blaine
grinned up at Byron and nodded towards the open bedroom door. My
spirits sank lower.
“Allan
will be happy all day if you give him a couple of your russian nymphet sex perv magazines
to look at,” Bruce quipped.
I
glowered at him. He was right, of course, but I couldn't help feeling
ashamed that the magazines ukrainian angel video nymphet had such a powerful effect on me that they
could entertain me for the rest of the day. The only problem was that
I wouldn't be with Blaine. Almost as if he read my mind, Blaine
snickered loudly.
“Yeah.
He’ll probably wank himself silly with them,” Byron
joked. “He’d better start using Brylcream before much
longer. Like they say, a little dab will do ‘ya’.”
The
three of them laughed. I young nymphet archives
really didn’t understand what was
funny about Brylcream (a men’s hair-care product renowned for
its greasy properties and rapidly going out of fashion in 1968).
Byron noticed that I wasn’t participating in the humour of the
moment. He stepped back from the window, watching me intently.
“You
know something? Jokes aside, I think maybe it’s time old Allan
learned about the many uses of Brylcream, mates. What do you reckon?”
Unsuspecting,
I stayed where I was, flipping comic pages. I was barely aware that
Byron went into the bedroom, even less aware when he came out.
Suddenly, a couple of magazines dropped onto the table in front of
me. In an instant, I took them in and my heart began to race. There
was issue two of Cowboy Fun, peeking out from the bottom of the pile.
The magazine on top was titled ‘Chums’ and featured a
curly -headed naked boy standing among some bushes, beckoning to the
camera. Below that, was a magazine whose title was in Japanese or
Chinese characters, but the colour photograph of an Asian boy’s
face, his lips enclosing another boy’s erect dark-skinned penis
left no doubt as to its meaning and what would be discovered beyond
the cover. The rest of the magazines I couldn't see.
No
one said a word. I stared at the magazines, focusing on the ‘Chums’
boy and trying to decide if his penis was bigger or smaller than
mine, which was difficult because there were some leaves in the way.
I couldn’t stop myself. After a few seconds, I managed to push
them aside, doing my best to pretend that they were in the way of my
comic book. However, my effort to demonstrate apathy proved even
more distracting because in doing so I positioned the magazines so
that they were fanned out on the table. I wanted so badly to pick up
Cowboy Fun Two now that it was fully visible to my excited eyes. The
cover alone was very appealing. This time the two brothers were naked
and bending over towards the camera. Their father stood behind them
with his hands on their bottoms. The subtitle announced, ‘ride
‘em cowboy’. I fancied I could see the older boy's anus.
Perhaps it was my imagination. My chest felt tight.
“Now,
now. There’s nothing to get uptight about, Allan,” Byron
purred from behind me. “Not after what you saw Blainey and me
doing earlier. It’s about time you found out how much fun sex
can be. You need to start thinking about yourself instead of what
your grandmother would say.”
His
smarmy voice got my immediate attention. It was also true, in part if
not in its entirety. I swivelled around, looking up at ukrane nymphet him. He
smirked down at me. Then, I saw what he held in his other hand. It
was a big jar of Brylcream. He reached down and picked up the
magazines from the table.
“If
you want to look at them, Allan, petit nymphets nude
there’s a price.”
“What?”
I blurted out.
“It
sounds like you're interested that's for sure. Okay, then. This
morning old Brucie’s going to start teaching you the many uses
of Brylcream. He’ll be giving you your first lesson on the
couch I expect,” Byron continued, smirking directly at me.
He
turned and deliberately handed the magazines and the jar to Bruce
with a barely audible admonition, ‘go easy on him’. Then,
he walked back into the bedroom. Blaine giggled, got up from his
chair and followed obediently. The door closed behind him. I heard
Blaine shriek, then laugh. Then, silence. Bruce looked shrewdly at
me, holding the magazines out for me to see them. Cowboy Two was the
one on top. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to die.
“Your
choice, Bunny,” he said quietly. “You can stay in here
and read Scrooge McFuck or perv at some of nubile nymphets cp By’s best boy mags
on the couch with me? There's some great fuck pics in Cowboy Two, you
know. The others have got some too.”
The
‘f’ word rang in my ears. Bruce said ‘fuck’!
That was what I had seen Byron doing to Blaine. That was what was in
the magazines. 'Fuck pics'. Byron had picked them out deliberately. I
felt my temperature rising with the blood in my face. I was rapidly
becoming hotter, and my penis was getting harder. Awfully, painfully,
hard. I was being consumed by unrelenting, overpowering excitement. I
tried to hide it under the table. I did my best. I really did. I even
tried ignoring the obvious thrill I got from looking at the
magazines. Nothing worked.
Bruce
ambled off, taking his time going into the adjoining room. I heard
the couch springs complain when he flopped down. I could feel my
heart thumping inside my chest. There was a throbbing ache between
my thighs, my penis standing up and begging to be touched, straining
insistently, as stretched out and skin-tight as I had ever seen it. I
clenched my fists, resisting the need to see what was inside the
magazines, fighting back with all my will-power. It was a wasted
effort. I lasted only a few seconds. I followed Bruce without
protest.
He
was waiting for me on the couch, grinning, obviously happy about my
decision to join him. He patted the side nearest to the window. I sat
down, gazing outside as raindrops from the roof edge splattered onto
the deck. I could barely make out the shoreline, nymphet hacked and the african nymphets sex distant
headland was completely obscured in misty rain.
“Just
lie back and relax, Bunny,” Bruce said quietly. “Think of
it as an early Christmas pressie.”
His
hand stroked my back. I didn’t move. I didn't breath.
“What’s
wrong mate?”
“Nothing,”
I muttered tensely.
“There’s
nothing for you to be ashamed about.”
“I’m
not ashamed,” I retorted hastily.
Bruce
sighed. “You’re not the only one who likes looking at
these magazines, you know.”
“It’s,….”
I tried to find the right word. “…. sick.”
“They're
Bruce's but Blainey looks at them too.”
“Blaine?”
“Yeah.
Looking at guys have sex is nothing, it doesn’t mean shit,
Allan, despite what you might think.”
His
hand moved to my shoulder and he pulled me back so I lay down next to
him. He opened a magazine in front of me, held it there a foot from
my face where I would have had to close my eyes not to see it. Cowboy
Fun Two. It was the middle of the magazine. Most of the two-page
spread was given over to a picture of the oldest boy lying on his
back. His father’s cock was buried to the hilt. The boy’s
face reminded me of Blaine’s expression when Byron was fucking
him. Intent yet dreamy, barely cognisant of the world around him, the
face of ecstasy. That was the word I was looking for. I licked my
lips and opened my mouth to inhale.
“Oh
wow,” was all I could say.
‘Oh
wow’ was right, because there was an insert in one corner
showing the man’s engorged cock before it went in. It was as
long and thick as a boy’s forearm.
“Ouch,
more like,” Bruce said. “Man, a dong that big must hurt
something awful until you got used to it,” he added quietly.
“Is
it really his father?” I asked awkwardly. “A father
wouldn't do that with his son, would he?”
Bruce
raised an eyebrow. “It depends on the father, mate,” he
said after a while.
The
morning of Christmas Eve, 1968, as the rain turned to drizzle, Allan
James Harding got his first dose of truly hardcore pornography from
the centre-fold of Cowboy Fun Two. Even to this 12 y.o. nymphets day, I still wonder
whether the photograph was real. There are very few men who have nine
or ten-inch tools, but the possibility of putting something so large
inside an eleven-year-old boy’s bum is,… well, after a
lifetime of loving boys it still defies common sense, if not
impossibility.
I
was speechless for a long time. The few words of text on the bottom
of the page said that ‘Ronny loves it deep’, but it
didn’t seem possible.
“You
turn the pages when you want to,” Bruce said distantly.
He
handed me the magazine, then reached to pick up the jar of Brylcream.
The lid snapped off. His finger swiped into the white, aromatic
cream, extracting a large glob.
“What
are you going to do?”
“You’ll
see,” Bruce answered distantly. “Don't worry mate. You'll
love it.”
He
smeared the cream over his fingers and the palm of his hand. Then, he
told hold of my hard penis and gave it a friendly tug. His hand moved
around, fondling and transferring most of the greasy lotion to my
penis and testicles. He gave my penis a few tentative up and down
strokes, his fingers sliding easily over lubricated skin. I squirmed
underneath him, not believing how nice it felt. It was a lot like
being inside his mouth. teens free nymphets
Slippery, sliding, sending a tantalising
thrill through me. In an instant, my knees dropped to the couch,
spreading wide apart, exposing myself wantonly. When boys do that,
they're willing.
His
fingers vibrated, then began a slow up and down motion. I stiffened
as his motion became faster and then relaxed when he slowed down. His
thumb chlid nymphets pics swirled over the head, squeezing, then rolling it between his
finger and thumb. His little finger extended down, pressing into my
scrotum to massage my balls. I could not help but lift my hips up,
pushing hard into his hand. I opened the magazine at a random page.
The text explained what was happening before I realised what I was
looking at. ‘Ronny the bronco buster is helped onto his steed
by his little brother. Timmy is eager for his turn’. The father
was lying on his back in the straw and Ronny was squatting over his
groin. His younger brother was kneeling beside him. His hands were
held a few inches apart, showing what the camera could not see.
“Geez,”
I murmured.
“Yeah,
geez is right,” Bruce said in an urgent voice. “It's hot
at hell, but it gets even better, mate. A lot better.”
By
then, his hand was tugging on my penis, pulling hard on the skin with
abrupt jerks. Previously, I would never have enjoyed having my penis
rubbed in that fashion. Rather, I would have been telling him to stop
because it hurt, but the oily slickness prevented any burning
sensation. In fact, it felt so good that all I could do was to lie
there with my mouth half open, gasping and trying not to groan. It
kept getting better and better, until I was twitching uncontrollably
every few seconds. It was all that I could do to turn the pages every
so often. One picture followed another, and as Bruce said, it only
got better. The next photograph was taken from behind the boy’s
back. If I harboured any doubts as to what Timmy’s hands were
indicating, they were immediately shattered. I swallowed, still not
wanting to believe what I was seeing. The man’s penis was
pulled out and the boy’s anus was clearly visible. It was
red-raw, painfully distended, and something creamy-white was
dribbling out. Even for the mid 1970s, when pornographic magazines
proliferated in sex-shops in Kings Cross, the magazine would have
been considered depraved. For an eleven-year-old boy in 1968, it was
life-changing. I gazed, dumbfounded, not really believing, or perhaps
not wanting to believe what I was seeing.
“The


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Último acceso: Friday, 11 de October de 2013, 02:57  (1445 días 17 horas)