Date: Fri, 8 Dec 2006 16:36:17 -0800 (PST) From: Jeff Spencer Subject: Clash of Cultures (M/b, b/b, oral, anal, mast, romance) This story may involve descriptions of sexual encounters between males of different generations. Be warned, and do not read if reading this type of story is illegal for you. It is fiction, and should not be taken as approval of actual contact of this type between adults and children. If you like it, drop me a line at JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com. Please contribute some money to Nifty if you enjoy this and other works posted there. ================================== I'd like to share my entirely true story with someone, and so I'm writing it down as best I can, and posting it here. I'm a fairly famous Major League Baseball player - I think you'd recognize my name if you saw it, so clearly I won't be including THAT here. I'm in my early 30's, 6' 2" tall, 210 with blue eyes and dark brown hair. I'm Anglo, and I came to pro ball after a 4-year ride at an Ivy League school, where I made All-American in the sport. So, I'm not particularly stupid, though at times I certainly have to question some of my decisions. Anyway, a player usually knows when his career has peaked and he's begun the downhill slide. For me, it was the moment last season that a St. Louis Cardinals pitcher hit me with a pitch in the seventh-inning of a pretty meaningless game. Getting hit was no big deal, I've gotten used to those stingers over the years, as I tend to crowd the plate. No, what bothered me were two things: First, my eyes didn't pick up the ball until it was halfway to me. I had always been able to see the ball leave the pitcher's hand, and that was one of the reasons I'd maintained a batting average near .300 most years. The second thing that really made me think, was the fact that, once I COULD see the ball headed toward my chest, I willed my muscles to move me back and they didn't respond. I was shocked - paralyzed - then they kicked in, and I DID move, although not enough to avoid getting hit. It was clearly a loss of `brain to muscle' response time, and that is a death knell for ANY professional athlete, regardless of sport. So, as I said, I'm not particularly stupid, and I soon asked my agent to find me endorsement opportunities outside of baseball, and that I'd consider anything. Well, she got me a spot for a Japanese game manufacturer, one of the video game consoles that you can buy on Ebay if you're willing to spend a couple of grand. Of course, as everyone knows, the Japanese are big baseball fans, and my face was pretty popular over there, although oddly enough, I'd never been there. Well, I wasn't going to go there yet, because the media agency creating the spot, intended for Japanese theatrical and TV release, decided to film it in Topeka, Kansas, of all places. The timing worked out well, as I was temporarily on the Disabled List, with a strained ligament. The commercial was to be a takeoff on the scene in the movie "Oliver," where the lead, a small boy in a workhouse, walks up to the evil master during their meal, holds up his bowl, and says, "Please, sir, could I have some more?" Substitute one of their game cartridges for the bowl, cast me as the evil master, dress us in period costumes, and that was the gig. Seems crazy to me, but what do I know? So, I arrived at the spot in my rental car. It was an old, de-sanctified Anglican church on the dusty outskirts of Topeka. With the pews taken out, and simple wooden tables (circa 1800s) lined up like those in some low rent shelter, the place had the drafty, dusty, just plain `old' look of an 1800s English workhouse meal hall. At least, what most of us imagine it would look and feel like. To my surprise, though, there were only nine kids there, all boys, ranging in age from about 10 to 14. They were very clearly English and Irish, with the sweet beauty of young English boys. >From my recollections of the various `Oliver Twist' movies, the workhouse is supposed to be crammed full of kids. It looked to me like it was going to be a pretty puny workhouse. Then they put up this giant green screen behind the first two rows of tables. The Director looked at me, and seeing the puzzled look on my face, smiled and said, "CGI. We're going to create about a hundred more kids on the computer, seated at tables and moving, then paste them into the scene. We'll make a few changes to the interior that way, too, like losing some of these windows - you know, make it darker and meaner-looking." I shrugged, and said, "Ain't technology amazing." "Yeah, and it saves a lot of money, too. It was a lot cheaper for us to hire these nine English boys and send them over here, than to fill this place with American kids. The Japanese are sticklers for accuracy," the director finished. I took another look at the kids, and sure enough, every boy had that fresh-scrubbed, rosy-cheeked look that most people associate with the English. About 4 ½ feet tall, around 80 pounds each ( I guess slim was okay, `plump' wouldn't do in a workhouse), all of them with that sweet, winsome `kid' expression. Hair in bangs, covering their ears in a kind of ungroomed way you might expect from `orphans', teeth that were just a little bit crooked, attractively so but not off-putting. Quite handsome boys, actually. I was sent off to dress in period costume, a wool waist-coat thingy with short pants that ended down around mid shin. Just think "A Christmas Carol" for the general look. Then I headed over toward the church, where the boys were, all of them also in period attire, though much less grand than mine. Most had thread-worn, patched pants and shirts of a rough, dull-colored fabric, and slight smudges of dirt artfully added to their otherwise spotless complexions. One boy separated from the gaggle, and came over to me. I was struck by his deep blue eyes, nearly hidden by his dark blond bangs. His teeth were even, his smile natural and unforced. His upper cheeks were rosy red, too, his complexion otherwise creamy and even. He looked to be all of twelve. Less than a hundred pounds, perhaps 5' tall. "Hi, I'm Jeremy," he said, offering his hand. I took it in mine. Of course, my hand engulfed his, so I shook it gently, not wanting to hurt him. "I'm Jeff," I said, returning his smile. He really struck me as more beautiful than handsome, certain feminine qualities to his features. I felt a stirring at my crotch, which surprised me. I've got an open mind about sexuality, and there's more gay guys in baseball than you might think, but the sight of a man's naked dick, and obviously I saw `em all the time, hadn't really done much for me in the past. I had a couple of girlfriends I dated sporadically, but I wasn't serious with anyone. Anyway, feeling my own dick respond to this cute boy definitely surprised the hell out of me. And it was awareness of the pleasurable sensation in my crotch, that made me realize that's where his eyes would sometimes fix during our short conversation, though most of the time he looked directly into my own eyes. I almost felt as though the weight of his glance was making my cock grow. "So, sir, you're the American baseball player?" he asked conversationally. "Well, yes, that's my day job," I said, a little surprised that he had to ask. In retrospect, my comment was parochial and extremely self-centered, but I had been coddled for the last eight years as a `Star', and frankly, had a lot to learn yet, about many things. "Um, we generally play cricket in England, and, of course, football," he informed me. "Except our football isn't like your football." His grin was infectious, and I smiled back. "I'm sorry I don't know much about your career, sir," he added apologetically. "That's okay, kid," I said. "I don't know much about cricket, so we're even." "You're certainly muscular, sir," Jeremy said, after a pause. His voice was admiring. "But are you at all intelligent? I've heard that many athletes tend not to develop their cerebral skills." The kid was a young David Frost! "Well, I'll let you come to your own opinion about that, Jeremy," I said. "Thank you, sir," he replied. "I take that as a sign of acknowledgment that you let me make up my own mind, rather than telling me what I should think. Would you mind if I test you at times?" "Um, no, feel free," I said. That was a little unexpected and disarming. Just then the director's assistant came bustling by to get us all `on set'. We took our places, with me standing at a position overlooking the nine boys at their seats, play stations in front of them, all of us dressed, remember, in period clothing. The director spoke loudly. "Now Mr. Workhouse Master, you're going to have a roomful of dirty young urchins in front of you, and you can barely conceal your contempt. One of them is going to approach you with last year's `Baseball 2006' game cartridge in his hand, date showing prominently, look pleadingly up into your eyes, seeking mercy that isn't there, and say `Please sir, could I have some more'? Actually, he can say anything he damn well pleases, because this whole thing's going to be dubbed in Japanese." "You boys, I want you to look tired, resigned to your boring old last year's games, but also peeking out curiously and warily, when Jeremy here approaches the headmaster. Then, after the headmaster's response, you're going to leap up and cheer, alright?" the director continued. "Finally, Jeremy, you're going to be the star of this shoot, because the camera's going to be on you when it isn't on product closeups. You appreciate that it's important that you feel the part, don't you?" the director asked. "Yes sir," Jeremy answered in his mellifluous voice, which combined with his English accent charmed me immensely. "I understand that I should try to get it right as soon as possible, as time spent here is extremely expensive." His smile belied his serious response. "Good, good," the director replied, looking a little surprised. "Take your places and we'll rehearse." I stood at the front of the room, acutely aware of the cameras focusing on me. To get an authentic `angry look', I tried to imagine the look on my team manager's face when we screwed up in the field, and imitate it. "Jeff, are you alright?" the director asked. "Sir?" I replied. "You look as though you're having a bad case of heartburn. Are you okay?" the director said. "Um, I was doing `angry'," I said to him. I heard snickers from the small crowd of boys. "Well, is that how you look when you're angry?" he asked, reasonably enough. "No, it's how my manager looks when he's angry. I figured he's had enough practice, it oughta be a pretty experienced look." "Well, why don't you just do `Jeff angry' instead?" he replied. "After all, I'm sure you've had more experience with your normal angry look than with your manager's angry look, right?" "Sorry," I said. We proceeded from there. I made some silly speech to the boys, really just barking a few admonitions at them, it was all pre-scripted. Then Jeremy got up slowly from his seat, and walked up the aisle towards me, slowly and timidly. As he approached me, I was struck again by his beauty, and my heart even fluttered a little. Ridiculous, I know, but there you are. Anyway, when he got to me, he was supposed to say, "Please sir, could I have some more?" To my shock, and to the surprise of the one or two boys within earshot, as it was spoken so quietly, Jeremy said instead, "Please sir, could I suck your dick?" The mouth of the boy on either side of the aisle dropped open, as did mine. The look on Jeremy's face was completely serious. "Jeremy, you're going to have to speak up," the director said. "We couldn't even pick that up with the boom mic," he said, as the sound man shrugged. "I realize it's not going to be used, but a good actor fulfills his part, his ENTIRE part, whether someone else will witness it or not. So emote with all of your senses young man, it's why we picked YOU to star in this!" It was pretty obvious that he hadn't heard what Jeremy said. Looking chastened, Jeremy replied, "Yes sir." I was still in shock, and the two boys who had heard what he actually said, were stifling giggles. "Alright, let's take it from when Jeremy rises and approaches the workhouse master again." This time, when Jeremy approached me, he spoke his line the way it was written, and in a strong, theatrical voice that would make Broadway proud. We went through the rest of our lines, and then the boys cheered wildly at the end when I broke into a broad smile, and dramatically handed Jeremy, aka `Oliver', the 2007 version of the video baseball game. We practiced it a couple more times, then the director began rolling film. Realizing he had a rank amateur in me, and anywhere from amateur to semi-professional actors in the boys, he figured he'd put together enough scenes one way or another. We got halfway through the production when we broke for lunch. "I'd like you all to stay here and get to know each other, it'll help you to loosen up if you've talked about everyday stuff over a sandwich," the director said, looking at me, and taking in the boys with a sweep of his hand. "We've got some production details to meet over back in town. We'll be back in an hour." By "We,", he meant all the technical people. That left me, and the nine boys. Now since baseball is a `boys of all ages' game, I figured we'd have something to talk about, even if they WERE English, but still, it might be at least slightly awkward. There was a whole cooler of thick deli sandwiches, sodas and bottled water, so when the others drove off, I took the lead, and said, "Might as well dig in now, guys," grabbing myself a ham sandwich and a root beer. I sat down on the old raised steps of the church, as most of the boys took their seats around the vicinity. Jeremy sat next to me. I had been contemplating the appearance of the sky, which was a curious leaden gray-green, the air hot and limp, and my eyes came to rest on his sweet, intelligent face. I could barely see his attractive blue eyes through his long bangs. "Hi," he said, sitting down neatly, looking at his sandwich as he unwrapped it. He didn't look up at me. "Hi Jeremy," I said. Dropping my voice, I said, "That was, uh, a pretty good performance. Do you do much acting?" "Yeah, I've been in some adverts on the telly, and even in a West End production. That's London's version of Broadway," he added. I appreciated that, as I hadn't a clue what is was before he explained it. "Otherwise, just stuff at school," he said, curiously shy now. "The rest of the lads are from my school," he added. "So they chose you first, then filled in the rest from your school? Wow." I said. "Jeremy, um, that first rehearsal...' I started to say, and suddenly felt Jeremy press his body into mine. He felt warm, and right, there, and I have NO idea how I would have reacted to that, because suddenly what sounded like an air raid siren went off near us. I heard one of the younger boys squeal at that. "Shush!" the boy next to him said. "It's nothing." Then he turned to me and said, "What's that?" "Umm, if I don't miss my guess, that MIGHT be a tornado warning." Then the enormity of what I'd just said struck me. We were in threat of a tornado, and I was effectively in charge! "C'mon guys," I yelled, herding them along inside the church. "We've got to find a storm cellar, or most likely a cellar under the church, to shelter in." I counted heads to make sure we had them all, then got them inside. I picked out one boy for each corner, and sent them to reconnoiter for doors and stairways. Within a minute or two one of the boys came back, breathless, saying, "There's a door.....sir.... with a staircase downwards behind it..." pausing to catch his breath between bits of information. "Good lad," I said, unconsciously picking up a small bit of affectation in my own speech. "C'mon fellas, this way," I said, waving them along. We went down the stairs and found ourselves in a wood paneled room about 8' below ground level. It looked like it had been the living area for someone, perhaps the church caretaker, but now it was empty, just a thin carpet on the floor, painted sheet rock on the walls, and the under flooring of the church itself serving as a ceiling. There were two plain fluorescent fixtures lighting the 12' by 12' room. I'm no tornado expert, but I figured the stone church would probably hold up okay. The doors to the cellar at floor level and cellar level were both pretty stout, so I figured we'd be okay if we just waited out the storm. "Okay, we're safe here if it IS a tornado, although chances are it won't even come near. If we just sit quietly we should be fine." Now, the LAST thing I am is a kid caretaker, so WHY I said that `sit quietly' thing, I'll never know. Heck, we could have been holding a rave down there, and STILL been fine. The boys quickly arranged themselves throughout the room. I was musing over my stupid `sit quietly' comment, when I looked at the boys strung out along the wall, oddly enough, in pairs. They had their arms around each other, and I began musing about how Europeans are more relaxed with their bodies. I guessed they were comforting each other, pretty scared and all, coming to a strange country and maybe facing a storm they had no experience with before. Then I saw they were pretty much all kissing! Geez, there were four couples, all young boys, making out in front of me. Then I looked immediately to my right, to see Jeremy grinning slightly at me. He pointed at two of the boys. One couple was undressing each other, a blond stripping another blond, their pale chests and small pink nipples the first thing I saw, then their pale, perfectly round and flawless bottoms, as they pushed their costume britches down. Each boy's cock was erect, sticking straight out, into the belly of the other. Their dicks were relatively small, no more than 4" or so in length, one boy's being a little thicker than the other's. Their balls were still small and undeveloped, two tiny orbs hanging in their hairless, wrinkled ball sacks below their excited rods. I noticed that each boy was caressing the other's balls, and I recalled how nice it feels to have someone tease you there. The two boys were kissing passionately, heads at an angle to allow their red, full lips to come together, their tongues dancing. I felt a slight electrical current in my cock at the sight, and the subsequent thought. Fingers stroked over smooth, hot boy flesh, strumming pleasure into each other's sensitive, pink shafts. Their breathing quickened, and from the prancing of their feet up and down, they either had to pee, or they were very excited. The two boys were rapt, lost in their passionate kiss, and I found myself wondering what a boy's soft, full lips would feel like against my own. One boy was stroking the other boy's naked ass with the fingertips of his free hand, while the other boy had his free arm around his partner's neck, pulling him close. Jeremy's voice startled me. "You see, Sir, it's a boarding school that we attend. Many of the boys there have no parents." Here his smile slipped, possibly betraying his own situation. "We boys grow close to each other, and develop relationships. My friends are very close to me." He rose to his knees in front of me, his hand on my knee warm, and firm. His body seemed to drift in between my legs, which mysteriously parted to allow him. Suddenly, his red lips pressed against mine, a storm of warm, deliciously-scented air from his nostrils racing across my cheek. The skin of his cheek was incredibly smooth and hot against mine, his lips soft, warm and moist. I became aware of the rest of his body pressing into mine, too, and I never wanted anything more than contact with this enchanting boy. I was inhaling Jeremy in so many ways - the feel of his warm body, alive and passionate in my arms; the taste of his wet tongue on mine, as he impetuously and eagerly invaded me, but with my growing welcome; the smell of his young body, fresh and boyish, with an underlayment of sweat and also his excitement; and the small sounds of pleasure he made, mewls of ecstasy, as he ground his dick into mine, and echoed by my own moans of pleasure. "I want to please you," Jeremy gasped into my ear, his hot, moist breath racing across my upper cheek and tickling my ear. I simply nodded, as Jeremy slid down my body, both of us still- clothed, and began unbuttoning the numerous fastenings in the wool of the pantaloons of the period costume. Fortunately, I was wearing modern boxers underneath, so when Jeremy uncovered the rampant, cotton-covered battering ram in my crotch, he gave a small squeal of delight. Then his practiced fingers divined the piss opening, and quickly unsheathed my 8", circumcised cock, standing it tall, his small fingers barely reaching around the base. Jeremy's eyes were shining with pleasure as his lips parted to allow my plump, red dick head to slide in between them. I was surprised to see a small pearl of my pre-cum already formed in the piss slit. Jeremy licked it avidly. His lips were slick and soft, pressing me tightly, far superior to any pussy I'd ever experienced, and his rough-coated tongue, swirling against certain sensitive parts of my glans in a knowing way, was certainly more than I'd ever experienced from a woman. As Jeremy established a sweet rhythm of bringing me to heights of excitement, making me certain that I'd cum, then letting me recover, over and over again, I lay back, and looked at the four boy couples around the room. The first pair, two blonds, were now in a similar position to ours, with one boy lying in between the thighs of the other, his pants pulled down to his ankles, sucking on and kissing the boy's small penis, his head bobbing up and down as he did. The first boy ran his fingers through his lover's long locks, murmuring endearments. The boy's penis glistened with the other boy's saliva, the plump, red head of his cock promising a full load of his boy sperm when ecstasy became too great. I could visualize gouts of thick, white boy cum filling his lover's mouth, gooey on his lips. The boy who was lying on his stomach, completely engaged in orally pleasing the cute blond youngster, had his pants down by his shins, and his right hand between his own legs. By the movement of his lower body, I gathered that he was stroking his own cock and balls, while he sucked his friend's dick. My eyes were drawn, however, to his beautifully round boy butt, naked and gleaming palely in the light of the cellar. Smooth and bubble-like, his ass cheeks were perfect, without blemish, and I could imagine the heat and softly firm texture of those globes under my own fingers and hands, and increasingly I imagined my mouth there, kissing that sweet boy bottom. The boy whose cock was being sucked, opened his eyes, to see me watching them make love. He smiled at me, and nodded slightly, as if to recognize a kinship between us. Then he thrust his hips upward, driving his rod deeper in his boyfriend's mouth. As he relaxed, his hips falling back, his penis momentarily left the recumbent boy's mouth, the pink shaft dragging over the soft, red lips encasing it, and as the boy's steel-hard cock stood poised to re- enter the blond's eager mouth, orgasm overwhelmed the boy, and the thick spurts of boy seed that I had imagined, became reality, long ropes streaming whitely into the open mouth, contrasting with the pinks and reds of tongue and gums and lips. Following spurts sprayed across the blond's face, surprising him a little and pleasing him no less, as he grinned with pleasure as he felt himself marked by his lover. The first boy pulled the cum- stained boy up to him, and set to licking the boy's cum-strewn cheeks, even as his fingers burrowed between those beautiful, pale ass cheeks, seeking out the boy's dark center. My eyes turned to the next couple, as shivers of pleasure ran through my cock, a combination of the incredibly sexy scene I had witnessed, as well as the pleasure Jeremy's talented mouth was bringing me. The second couple, a black-haired boy with a blond boy, were engaged in a sixty-nine, with the blond on his back, the other boy stomach to chest with him, their mouths teasing and laving each other's pricks and balls. Occasionally, the black haired boy would slide his index finger around, and into, the blond's tight rear hole, to both boy's evident delight. I watched, fascinated, as the boy removed his single digit from his lover's shit hole, bringing it to his nose to sniff delicately, then sucking on it briefly to wet it. He returned the now slickly wet finger to the blond's tight opening, penetrating him slowly, but steadily, the blond moaning with pleasure the whole while. Then the black haired boy brought two fingers to his mouth, wetting them both generously with spit, so much so that I could see thick streamers of it dripping from the two fingers together. Then he brought the spit-covered fingers to the blond's tight hole, now visibly pink bordering on red, his bottom wriggling with anticipation as he felt the wideness touching his sensitive pucker. "Relax now, Ethan!" the black haired boy commanded, and I saw the blond's naked pink bottom quiver as he sought to relax the muscles of his anus. He must have had some success, as the other boy's two fingers began to slip inside the blond's nether hole. The supine blond groaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain wracking his face, soon turning to complete pleasure as his rectum accommodated the fingers deep inside him. Shortly thereafter, the blond was urging his friend to, "Fuck me harder, deeper, Ian, cum inside me!" Then he returned his mouth to the black haired boy's hard and erect cock, six inches long, with a small black bush at its base. Movement from the third couple drew my attention, reluctantly, from the two sixty-nining lovers. The third couple were two brown-haired boys, one standing with his pants around his ankles, the other black-haired, on his knees sucking the first boy's stiff and waving cock, then reaching his head down and licking the boy's balls. The standing boy's cock was 4" long, and thick, a stubby little rod, and his balls were contained in a wrinkled pink sack, both balls moving about as the boy mouthed, and kissed and licked them, to the evident pleasure of the standing boy. The boy leisurely pumped his dick in and out of the kneeling boy's mouth, the pace speeding up as ecstasy overtook him. Very quickly, it seemed to me, the boy came, his cum shooting directly into the kneeling lad's mouth, the boy evidently enjoying the taste and texture of the male seed. A small rivulet of the boy's sperm ran down the kneeling boy's chin. I felt an odd desire to lick it up myself. Meanwhile, the boy on his knees had his own hand jammed down his pants playing with his own cock, as he sucked his friend's so industriously. His pants were unbuttoned enough to allow his dick to stick out the front. He turned his body slightly after his friend filled his mouth, and so I was able to watch him jerk himself to his own climax. His dick was longer, but thinner than his friend's, which perhaps allowed him to do a better job of masturbating up and down the smooth, pink shaft with its tan foreskin still intact. The boy's hand moved at amazing speeds along that hot ram, and I could almost feel its heat, and smell his excited boy musk, though I was across the room. Finally, the boy pulled down, hard, on his uncircumcised cock, pulling the foreskin far down, exposing his weeping, red piss slit, and the most amazing fountains of thin, boy cum shot out of that lovely penis, landing on his thighs as he shivered with pleasure, lost in his own ecstasy. Then the standing boy leaned down and kissed him lovingly and lingeringly. I wondered what the wardrobe lady was going to say about the mysterious white substance on his costume! The fourth couple, a redhead and a brunette, also featured one boy, the redhead, on his feet, and the brunette on his knees, as the previous couple, except that the standing boy was turned around, and bent over, holding his ankles. The boy on his knees had his face buried in between the standing boy's plump, pale ass cheeks, and he was licking the boy's asshole! His tongue was actually slipping in past the boy's reddish, puckered anus, into the tight depths of his rectum. As exciting as the previous tableau had been, I found this to be the most exciting. I had never considered the fact that a male might find it pleasurable to lick another male's ass hole, and the fact that it was two beautiful English boys doing the ass-licking, and enjoying it, made it all the more exciting. Of course, I couldn't help but imagine what it might be like to have my lips pressed against a young boy's puckered ass hole, with my tongue sliding deep inside his tight, but yielding, rectum. The thought overwhelmed me with a wave of pleasure, and without warning I blasted several loads of man seed in Jeremy's sweet mouth, filling his hot, wet oral cavity with my cream. My hips thrust, hard, into Jeremy. He was obviously experienced, as he rode out the storm of my passion, then decreased the attentions his rough tongue were giving to my increasingly sensitive cock. Finally, my cock in his mouth, but softer now, Jeremy looked up at me, his gaze so sweet and innocent, that I swiftly dragged him up, his face approaching mine. A soft smile appeared on those sweet red lips, so soft and tender, and he said, "Was it acceptable, Sir?" I smiled back, then kissed him savagely and passionately, our lips caressing, our tongues playing, breath racing, the smell of man-musk strong on Jeremy's breath. Small globs of my own semen were returned to me as we kissed, my first taste of a man's cum my own, and I found it attractive. My hand fell into Jeremy's partially naked lap, fingers naturally curling around Jeremy's delicious and beautiful penis, his heat and heartbeat infusing me with renewed passion. I slowly jacked him. He leaned against me, his small head of long, blond hair resting on my chest. We turned our attention back to the fourth couple. The boy on his knees had been avidly licking his friend's ass hole where he stood, the boy bent forward to allow his friend's tongue to fuck him even more deeply. The boy's open and nearly gaping anus was quite visible as the first boy occasionally pulled away. His anal pucker was pink all around, the skin slightly darker pigmented around his anus, but inside of his rectum, behind his now relaxed anal sphincter, I caught glimpses of bright pink, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to have my own mouth there, or even better, on Jeremy's ass. I decided that I would like to try everything I'd seen in this room, on Jeremy's hopefully willing body. The kneeling boy, his face now covered with saliva that had been thrust inside his friend's boy pussy, then rose to his feet and pressed his groin into the two plump pillows his boy friend teasingly offered to him. The boy in front reached behind himself, between the two boys, and took the rear boy's 5" dick in his hand, positioning it to ram inside his anus. Feeling the sensitive head of his cock fitting into the notch of the boy's hot and wet anus, the rear boy thrust forward, fucking slowly into his tight pussy. Jeremy moaned with pleasure watching a boy's cock sink deep inside another boy's ass hole, and I began to wonder how my cock would feel buried inside Jeremy's ass. "Unnhh," moaned the redhead, throwing his head back, his eyes closed in ecstasy. The dark haired boy leaned forward and kissed the redhead's tender, exposed throat, as creamy pale as the rest of his body visible to us. His bum was nearly pure white, and I was intrigued at seeing skin so fair. He had a smattering of freckles across his upper cheeks on his face, and the dark haired boy was kissing him there, as his hips pushed forward, then pulled back, fucking in and out of the boy's sweet little hole. "Fuck me harder, Kevin," the redhead murmured softly, we could just barely hear him. "I love feeling your lovely penis filling my twat, I love feeling your cum filling my hole, I love feeling it running down my thighs after you've thoroughly fucked me." His body was rocking rhythmically with his lover. "And I love, you, Sean, I love your sweet, creamy body, I love your thatch of flaming red hair here....and here," he said, kissing the boy's scalp, then his hand slyly slipping around Sean's front to grip his pole. "Mmmm, I can feel your sweet heat, is it for me?" "Oh yes, yes, you make me so hard, and so hot, I love you so much!" Jeremy melted into me at hearing the impassioned lovers, and I could hardly blame him, I was feeling renewed myself. I decided then that I would return Jeremy's favor, and suck his cute little cock until he came in my mouth. "Jeremy, I want to, to suck you...your cock," I said, somewhat lamely. Jeremy turned to me, his eyes wide. "You DO?" he exclaimed. I'd LOVE that!" He stood in front of me, fingers furiously working on the buttons, to release his heretofore unseen dick. I wanted to see, and experience, him totally naked. "HULLO! HULLO!! IS THERE ANYONE DOWN HERE?" a voice suddenly shouted down the stairs. I think every one of us gulped a hurried `Ohmigod!' and quickly buttoned up our pants, and separated. I caught a glimpse of Kevin and Sean trying to jam their still hard cocks into their costume pants. Fortunately, the pants were quite billowy, and so they found room for their erections without doing too much harm to themselves. After a pause, the director clumped down the stairs. "My God! I'm SO sorry!" he stammered. "We had no idea there was a tornado warning out. When we got to town, the police wouldn't let us leave - they said this area was at the center of the possible storm track. They rushed out here with us when the storm passed, we all expected the worst!" "Umm, when we heard the siren, I thought it might be something like that," I said. "So, we sheltered down here, obviously." "Are you all alright?" he asked, eyes darting from actor to actor. No doubt he was thinking of potential lawsuits, as well as expressing genuine concern. "Yes, I think so. We just sat down here, quietly conversing amongst ourselves," I said, no betrayal to the lie on my face. I saw boys throughout the room nodding. "Good, good. Fortunately, there was no damage here, so we should be able to finish the shoot today." We all trooped upstairs, and took our places once again. The rest of the filming went very smoothly, perhaps because many of the boys were now quite relaxed, though I noted that Kevin and Sean appeared a little, well, stiff. I couldn't keep my eyes off Jeremy, though, when I wasn't in a scene, and I wondered if we'd ever get a chance to get together. It's the candy you can't have that's sweetest. "That's a wrap, boys and girls," the director announced, finally, which I took to mean we were done. The boys got on a small bus to head back to their hotel. My eyes followed Jeremy all the way, his small, delicious body so perfect, and when he turned at the bus steps to look for me, the look of sadness covering his face wrenched my heart from my chest. The bus departed, and I went to see the director before I left. "That was an interesting experience," I said conversationally. "I guess it was pretty obvious I've never acted before." "No, actually, you were quite good, at least after that start," he said. "You've got some promise as an actor, you might want to stick with it." "Really?" I said. "Well, it's nice of you to say that, in any case." I was wondering how to bring up the subject of the boys, when he began talking about them. "You know, we had been planning to use a bunch of local kids to play the orphans. I was on a trip to England, when I happened to spot a school outing at a museum. The lads looked so ethereal, that I had to find out more about them, they seemed as though they would be perfect in these roles. And they were. I don't know what you all talked about while we were gone, but those boys were certainly at ease afterwards." He looked at me expectantly. "Oh, we just talked about this and that, the things that our countries share in common, that sort of thing," I said smoothly. "So, do they go straight back, or are they going to see a little bit of America, at least that doesn't include tornadoes?" "Um, I think they're staying over tonight, we booked a room in some local hotel for them, then leave tomorrow." I was stumped now. How could I find out which one? "Speaking of which," the director continued, "We've got your suite in the Capitol Plaza Hotel booked for you. You fly out tomorrow also." As the director was anxious to get off site, his body language told me that, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. "Hey, look me up if you want to get into acting," he said. "I meant what I said about your talent." "Thanks," I said to his departing back. My own shoulders slumped in defeat. I walked over to my rental car, then headed down the dusty Kansas road toward my hotel. I guess the most painful loss, is the realization of `what might have been'. But I'd cherish the memory of what had occurred forever. ============================= If you liked this story, and think it deserves a `Part 2', drop me a line at JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com. Thanks!