Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:38:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Chick Grope <gropechick@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boislut

"What ya doin'  mister?"
"I'm cutting the hedge."
"Why?"
"It looks better if it's cut."
"Oh, OK. Do you wanna see my dick?"
I spun round to look at the kid. Cropped blond hair, cold blue eyes, thin
mouth, unsmiling, looked a real toughie. I knew most of the kids in the
hood, but this was a new face.
"You on your own, kid?"
"Yeah."
"Where's your mom and dad?"
"Ain't got no mom and dad. I got fostered out to ........"
And he named a childless middle-aged couple I vaguely knew.
"So, you wanna see my dick or not?"
He had an aggressive challenging tone, clearly a kid who had had a tough
start in life.
"Come in the house. Follow me," I said, feeling the blood beginning to
pump into my cock. This was a chance too good to miss. Even if it was
risky, I had to follow where my cock led me.
When we were inside, I turned to face him.
"It'll cost ya," he said.
"What, just to see it? What if I want to hold it?"
"You mean, jack me off?"
"Could be."
He shrugged and named a price.
"Course," he added, "if you wanna bumfuck me, it'll cost you double."
By this time my cock was pressing so hard against my pants, it was almost
painful. For the first time, his face broke into a smile.
"Guess you're gettin a stiffy. Me too."
And with that he dropped his pants to reveal a perfect four inches of
hard boicock. Uncut, foreskin only half covering his cockhead. It looked
slack, like it could be pushed back with the tip of a tongue. My
tongue.....
Then he stepped up to me and unzipped my pants.
"Let's see yours, mister."
He slipped his fingers inside my pants and deftly flicked my cock out,
wrapping his fingers tightly round it as it sprang to attention just
inches from his face. He gave a soft whistle.
I looked down at his rigid cock.
"I guess we both need the same thing, kid," I said hoarsely.
He released my cock, stepped out of his pants that had fallen round his
ankles, slipped off his grubby top and kicked off his shoes. Naked now in
front of me except for his socks, he was irresitible: white skin, except
for his tanned face, neck and forearms, hairless - something that always
gets my pulse racing - and with a rigid penis that was sticking up almost
parallel to his belly as if it was begging to be sucked.
I flopped on to my back, pulled him on to me and slid him up my body so
that his legs straddled my shoulders, his cock against my chin.
"Turn round, let me give you a blow job," I commanded.
He swivelled round, raising himself in order to slide his stiffy into my
waiting mouth. I felt his fingers once again wrapping tightly round the
shaft of my aching cock.
"Don't forget, mister, it'll cost you .....," he said.
"Don't worry, kid, If you cum in my mouth and jack me off at the same
time, I'll pay you double that!"
I took his cock back into my mouth and got my tongue working on his
cockhead. I love sliding the  tip of my tongue under the foreskin of a
lovely fresh boicock, and was soon lost in the beautiful activity of
bringing him expertly to orgasm. Meanwhile, he was working his hand on my
cock, but slowly, very slowly. It was agonising, and it was made worse by
the fact that he was holding my cock by the base and not bringing his
fist up to my cockhead, not even to the hypersensitive area just below
the ridge of the helmet with its millions of nerve endings that respond
to the slightest caress. It was like he was deliberately teasing me.
"Don't want you to cum, mister," he said as if reading my thoughts, "not
if you're gonna bumfuck me after."
And then he moaned, that special drawn out sound of a kid feeling all the
thrills through his body as my mouth brought his penis towards the peak.
I felt his scrotum tighten, his penis stiffen and judder. My own cock was
on fire, my whole body was aching as the thrills zinged up and down at
the prospect of tasting his boicum, a taste that is better than anything
else a man can ever have on his palate.
"Awwwwwwwww, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"
He came then, quickly, rapid-fire bursts as his cum hit my throat. It was
not a copious amount but it was delicious and I managed to swallow
practically every drop of his precious boyseed. As he came, he stopped
stroking my cock but held it tighter than ever like he was holding on to
it for dear life. Thank god I was so hard that I could easily take the
pressure of his tight little fist. Then, without warning, he released it
and swivelled round to lie on top of me.
"You swallow it all, mister?" he said, touching my lips with his fingers.
I felt the wetness of the last dribble of his cum on my belly. I was
unable to speak, I just uttered a brief mmm kind of noise
With that, he planted a kiss on my mouth, running his little pink tongue
over my lower lip and forcing it into my mouth. My god, I thought, this
kid is a real pro: a boislut, a whore. Where had he learned all this?
This kiss and the tight hugging that accompanied it communicated itself
directly to my crotch and I felt my cock going into a kind of pulsation,
as if it was stabbing the air of its own volition. I broke off the kiss,
slid my finger in his mouth to get it wet, and then slid my
hand over his butt to seek his pucker. My finger slid in easily. This was
a well-used passage. He writhed and wriggled with pleasure in rhythm to
my probing finger. I pushed a second finger into him. He was ready.
Amazing, but wonderful too.
"I'll do it, mister, just hold your cock for me" he said. He raised
himself up and positioned himself so that his boihole was directly above
my cock. I held it by the base and guided it into him, stretching him
gently but relentlessly, waiting for that moment when my cockhead would
clear his tight pucker, that glorious moment when his sphincter closes
behind your cockhead and grips your shaft. It reminded me of how a dog
will tie with his bitch when his "knot" penetrates her and makes it
impossible for her to break away until he has completed his sexual
mission. I loved being inside him, I loved feeling the quivers of his
body as I began to shaft him, holding my hands on hips to control his
movements. As I slid him up and down on my cock, it was as if I was
masturbating using his boipussy as I might use my fist to pump myself up
to a mega-cum.
"Fuck!" he murmured. "Fuck!"
I didn't know if he was ordering me to fuck him - which I was already
doing - or whether he was simply expressing his pleasure at feeling
himself impaled on a mancock, and I didn't care. All I wanted now was to
fuck this little street whore and fill his belly with my hot manseed.
Like I wanted to impregnate him. Every movement of his tight rosebud
along my cock, from ridge to base and back again was a caress, almost a
sucking action, each upstroke trying to suck the semen out of me. I knew
as sure as I ever knew anything that this sweet bad boislut WANTED me to
explode inside him. He had, like so many, acquired a taste for being
fucked by a mancock and filled with warm creamy cum. It was an addiction,
something you can never get enough of.
But then, I was addicted too, and I was grateful that we had found each
other. Whether for payment or free, this was my kind of fucking, and I
redoubled my efforts now, increasing the speed and depth of my pistonrod
fucking until that moment when my ballsac tightened, my balls aligned and
I held still for that magical moment just before the first spurt of cum
explodes, as if suddenly released from imprisonment, free now to surge
forward deep into the bowels of a horny and willing boipartner. I let out
a long low aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh as I pumped into his boipussy, and
became aware that, to my delight, he had achieved a second orgasm himself
and was spilling warm boiseed on to my chest. Bless him.
We lay together for a long time as we slowly came down from our orgasmic
peak. I felt my cock gently detumescing inside him. He clenched his
sphincter expertly to hold me inside him while I wetted my fingers with
his cum and fed it alternately into his and my own mouth.
"Stay inside me, mister," he whispered, tightening his pucker again, "I
love feeling your cock inside me."
And that is how we stayed for ages, conscious of how every little
movement stimulated us again. I so wished I could get a second erection,
and for a while my cock started to swell again, but it was just too soon.
Unlike the men in porn stories, I was just a normal guy and needed some
hours of recovery before I could get it up again and shoot a second load.
"Can I come and see you again?" he asked. "I like the way you fuck me and
suck my dick and all."
I nodded. When we finally disengaged and got dressed, I stroked his hair,
cut short to make him look tough, but he wasn't really a toughie, just a
kid who had learned how to make use of his assets and how to survive. I
slipped some notes into his pocket, much more than he had asked for.
"Anytime, kid."
As he left, he turned and waved.
"See ya," he said. And as he said it, he grabbed his crotch and made an
unmistakeable gesture. I felt my root stirring once again. Some kids can
have that effect on a guy.

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