Date: Fri, 19 May 2017 16:30:56 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Shark Reef 4

Please see original story
(www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/shark-reef/) for warnings and
copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex
between adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local
rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but
flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty
**TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.

*****

I looked down again as Ian began to moan and growl around my meaty cock,
sending trills and arpeggios through every fiber of my body and mind. I
pounded on his shoulder and he mind-shouted, "Fuck Off! I'm Busy! MORE
COCK!" and redoubled his efforts. It took maybe seven or eight centuries of
bliss as my balls slowly, achingly, torturously climbed my shaft until I
screamed in a voice that should have lit up rescue screen in Quebec,
"FUUUUUUUUUUCK!" and was... gone.

*****

Shark Reef 4: The Hangovers

By Bear Pup

*****

I awoke when the sub came up, evil fucking nasty orb of pain that it
was. I'd never gotten a real hangover from THC, but then I never smoke
whatever the fuck that was. I laid there are little bits and piece of the
night floated back. Talking to God, Houris, soooo wasted, soooo
wonderful. Dream of the dozen dark-eyes virgins going to town on Mini
Me. Man, best fucking blow job, ever. Looking down. Not twelve dark-headed
virgins but on red-headed on devouring me. Wait? Red? Huh?

That's when I started to feel the rest of the world. I was on my back and
there was a Lunk-Lunk shirt from shoulders to knees. I lifted my head to
look down and realized that that was a Very Bad Plan. I pondered what the
brief view has given before pain dropped me like a rock. Dark blue. That's
the shirt. Hairy legs and feet. Me. Phenomenal girl's ass hanging out the
side? Come back to that. Giant lump right over me...

And that's when the lower parts came online, and the news those nerves
delivered sent me to orbit. Ian was suckling and nursing my very had, very
leaky dick like it was a teat.  I could hear the occasionally whimper or
moan as he worked me expertly.

Have you ever gotten a blow job when insanely hung over? The pleasure as a
counterpoint to the pain is exquisite, but then you realize that, at some
point, you'll cum with will split your skull like a melon and you'll die is
screaming torment. Then you sit for a while and finally decide... so what?
What a way to die!

What didn't fit was the Ian part. This was the kid who almost had an
aneurism because he spunked on my, and then wanted to die because he
accidently got me off. And now he was blowing me? Like, not just blowing
but whining and moaning like a desperate cheerleader? Like a footballer
almost getting his first piece of cheerleader ass? Desperate and needy and
fulfilled and even more desperate every moment? No matter the sacrifice, it
felt wrong.

I tugged off the Lunk-Lunk blanket and the sight nearly made me cum right
there.  Ian was curled across me, arms clutching my leg and hip as he tried
to stuff more and more of my sausage into him, licking and moaning, the
sounds no longer muffled by the cloth. I reached down and shook him and he
made some noise the rumbled down my shaft and had me biting my lips to hold
off.

Finally, I grabbed a huge hunk of that rich, thick, red hair and pulled
hard. Mini Me popped out of his mouth like a stuck drain coming unclogged,
and my dick beagan to scream curses at me for doing something so evil.

"Ian? IAN!"

"Shuddup, shuddup, shuddup!" He spoke like he was in a trance, speaking in
a mantra. "Go away I'm already dead and it's rude to bother dead people and
I died in a plane crash and I was really good really bad really really good
and now I got what I want and I'm dead so fuck off mate so I can enjoy it
mrppgg..." He'd escaped my hair hold and was back on me like a lamprey.

Well, hell. Now what. I didn't have long to ponder that. Somehow the little
fuck had managed to get the head of my dick right there in the aperture of
his throat and was swallowing over and over and over driving me mad. Then
both his hands started working my churning nut and I screamed, then
screamed from the agony the scream produced and that feedback loop keep
going as I blew what must have been gallons of hash-fueled jism down the
spasming throat. And out went the lights.

I know that I came again, cuz I woke for the finale before passing out
again. It was probably noon when I finally came all the way to
consciousness. Ian was now curled, not unlike a lizard, head buried in my
crotch. My movement brought him awake... more or less.

"I'm still stoned," he informed my sweaty nuts and more-or-less-limp prick.

"Probably. What do you THINK you remember, Ian?"

"Oh, God. It took forever to hit, like it wasn't anything, then WHAM I was
gone. I remember us both have a chat with, um, God? Maybe. And he said
you'd let me and I decided you'd let me and then I HOLY FUCK!!" He leapt
off me like I was a snake, slapping his head against the taut basin of
rain-filled Mylar, then cascading into the luggage. His eyes were red slits
or else they would have been wide. Every other part of his face screamed
dismayed terror.

"WH-wh-what are you? NO! No! It was hallucination. It was, it was," he
licked his lips and tasted a huge glob of my cum there. "OH GOD it wasn't!
It wasn't. Oh god." I tried to shush him. You're gonna kill me. Please
don't kill me! It-it-it-it was the h-h-hash! I never. I really, really
never!"

"SHUT UP GGRROOAANN!" My voice made me cry with pain, but at least the
babbling stopped. "Shut up. Just... shut up. No one's killing anyone except
my hangover, kid, go shut the fuck up. We'll talk about this later, but
I'll say this, for someone who never-ever-ever-ever, you did a fucking hell
of a job, kid." I wrenched myself up and managed not to puke. "I hate to
say this, Ian, but it doesn't matter. We got work to do if we want to
live. Admittedly, I'm not sure which is better right now, hangover or
death..."

I dragged the stoned, horrified, confused but ultimately pliant Ian up and
we set about filtering and drinking rainwater, then filling the last of the
containers. I took one of the last four remaining space blankets (it had
been a pack of six) and tied this one very differently. We found four trees
closer together and tied it to make an extremely deep well, reinforcing the
corner by gathering more 'edge' and tying a new, tighter cable-tie band
around that. My goal was to hope for rain again and get enough that we
might do more than simply survive.

After that, we made another circuit of the island. No new gear had washed
up. It was hot and while my own hangover had burned off, it was clear that
Ian's was just starting to bloom and the heat was killing him. We got to
the north end of the island and I got a delightful surprise. Wave reshape
islands like this constantly, and last night's rain and wind had
temporarily turned one of the shallow channels into a tide pool. The water
was clearer than glass, and I could see that nothing awaited us but some
easily-avoided sea urchins and a school of some unidentifiable flashing
minnows.

Ian was swaying, eyes actually (humorously) crossed. I simply reached down,
picked him up and flipped him over my shoulder and waded into the pool. He
spluttered and moaned, which I ignored. When I was sure nothing nasty was
there and we were in the deepest, roughly calf-deep section, I
unceremoniously dumped him. He squawked and tried to fend me off until he
realized I was using the sugar-soft sand to scrub then rinse his skin. He
finally got that idea and laid back.

I smacked his ass, hard, and he yelped. "Fuck that! I do you, you do
me. Get to work, kid." We slowly worked each other over, luxuriating in the
salty but clean feeling. I felt his hand come to my crotch and pull away as
if seared.

"Seriously? You jacked it off once and sucked it off all night and now you
can't touch it? Fine. Whatever. I went to push him away and he forcefully
resumed, perhaps with a little too much vigor (and sand), but he scrubbed
the stench and cum out of my crotch and I returned the favor. I found
myself mesmerized by two totally separate and utterly connected
sensations. The delicious tenderness of his ass as I scrubbed it softly,
and the erotic thrill of his hand in the crack of my own ass. At the end,
both of us were chubbed but neither in the mood for more.

"Come on, kid, let's get back to the shade." I'd noticed that in just the
thirty or so minutes we were out, Ian was already getting pink. That could
be a real problem. We got back and had a meal of stale fish and a snack
bar, and drank more of the tarp-pooled water that had not fit in the
bottles. He sat hunched with his back to me, and jumped when I nudged him
with my foot.

"Okay, the mutual sulk is now over. We're talking about this whether you
like it or not." He turned to me with a priceless expression, equal parts
defiance and guilt, bravado and fear; it was like a dog trying to decide
whether it was still a cringing puppy or a brave guard dog. It was the
cutest, sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

Wait, what? I wasn't above getting my knob polished by whatever lips were
on offer, but I wasn't gay! I didn't get turned on by a guy, especially not
by some stupid facial expression! I chalked it up to residual hash and
island heat and set it aside.

"Well?" He grumped his challenge.

"Let's start with night before last." I wasn't gay, but I also wasn't
opposed to some mild (okay, serious) lying to get off, either, and I saw an
opening here. "You humping my leg? Cummin all over me?" He scowled and
blushed, then brusquely nodded once, 'it happened; acknowledged; move
on'. "Do you know what you were saying, Ian?"

"S-s-s-s-saying?" Oooooo. Yeah, that one struck home. "I-I-I wasn't
s-saying anything."

"Sorry, kid, but you were. I didn't catch all of it cuz you have a real
accent there, but a couple phrases came through loud and clear." His eyes
were huge and terrified, as if he knew what I was going to say even though
I didn't. It struck me like a bolt of lightning. Let's test the waters,
shall we? "Can you tell me why 'Oh, sir!' and 'Please, sir!' and 'More,
sir!' kept coming up, over... and over... and over?

His mouth worked like a guppy but nothing came out. "You know, I was awake
quite a while, Ian. It's why I was damn near ready to cum when you wiped
me... I'd been stroking one out as well. It was pretty hot, Ian. There
seemed a lot of that, too. So, Ian, truth time. Who was sir and what were
you asking for more of?"

I saw it in his eyes before he tried it. He went to scurry out of the tent
and run but suddenly found his legs tangled in mine and unable to move
much. He threw a punch, stupid from that position and I caught it and spun
him around, locking the other arm as well. "Now, now. None of that." He
struggle but seemed to have lost the power of speech.

"You blew all over me, Ian, begging for more from 'sir'. Then you admitted
last night when you were stoned that you blew AGAIN because it was so hot
when you jacked me to orgasm. Then last night, you had my cock so far down
your throat you've got pubes in your teeth." I laughed as his hand flew to
his mouth just as he realized his mistake. He wilted like spinach and said
nothing. He wasn't crying, which surprised me, but he had lost all tension
or fight. I let him go and turned him toward me, forcing his face up to
meet mine.

"Just get the beating over with. Just kill me, sir. Really, I'm ready. I
can't fight this anymore. The Head Boy, the Dean, my Professor. I can't
take it. I deserve it. Just, just... just do whatever." I had rarely heard
such fatalism, but I knew from experience that melodrama was a default
state for a lot of teens. I slapped him, hard.

"OI!"

"Oh, so you DO care if I beat the fuck out of you? I thought you said it
didn't matter and you deserved it? Cut the crap, kid." That's when the
waterworks really did start. I pulled him to me.

"So, you're gay?" He nodded into my chest miserably. "And you like older
guys," nod, "like me," nod with redoubled sobs, "and you think I should
beat you up and kill you? I'm good through the last part. Explain to me why
I'd want that?"

"Because I'm sick, you fucking bastard. Because you're straight and I'm a
faggot poofter queer Nancy boy! Just stop with the nice thing! GOD I HATE
YOU! Why do this?" KerSLAP!!!! "OI!"

"You want to get slapped, keep talking like a whiny little bitch,
Sally. Pull up your big boy board shorts and be gay. What the fuck do I
care?" His hand rubbed his cheek which obviously still stung and looked at
me like he'd look at a crab that just danced across his legs. 'Existential
Dread' was a not-unreasonable description.

"Now, I'll admit I'd like a little warning before you, well, just dive the
fuck in.

"Ian, look at me. Yeah, I'm straight with a wife and kiddies at home. But
home is a kajillion miles away. I may be straight but I'm stuck on a barren
damned island with little chance of rescue with a fucking cute kid with and
amazing goddamned ass who loves to suck my cock! Show me the fucking
downside, you little prick.

"Speaking of which, I have a couple questions." He just gawped at me like I
was speaking Armenian. "How many guys you been with and what all you done?
Obviously, I know about the blow job thing, but what I got to look forward
to? Um, Ian? Ooooookay, I'll ask sloooooowly.

"How. Many. Guys. Have You. Been. With?"

Bizarrely, he blushed furiously and dropped his gaze and I had to wrestle
it back up to meet my face. "One." Was his tiny-voiced reply.

"Just one before me?"

"No." Ian's voice was now that of a very nervous hamster.

"What?"

"One. You." His voice by this time was only slightly louder than the
breeze.

"Oh. Ah, okay. So the rest of that...? Well, at least it leaves us a lot of
conversation starters!"

<eof>

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 25 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 17 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 18 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Off the Magic Carpet: 11 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/
Lake Desolation: 10 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Dear John Letter: 3 chapter .../military/dear-john-letter/
Shark Reef: 4 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 1 chapter .../incest/culberhouse-rules/

Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love .../incest/in-gods-love/