Date: Fri, 30 Mar 2007 15:27:20 -0700 (PDT) From: Jeff Spencer Subject: Clash of Cultures, Part 8 (M/t, oral, anal) This story involves descriptions of a sexual encounter between a man and teenaged boys. Be warned, and do not read if reading this type of story is illegal for you. It IS fiction. If you like it, drop me a line at JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com. The story is Copyright Jeff Spencer, 2007. Please contribute some money to Nifty if you enjoy this and other works posted there. You can also find many the following VERY HOT stories by `Jeff Spencer' listed under `Prolific Internet Authors' at Nifty: * All Cats are Grey * Blue Eyed Accident * Boy Beach * Chris and Terry's Neighborly Adventure * Clash of Cultures * Dream * Jeff Comes Out * Jiffee Lube * Justin's Story * Lick It or Ticket * Locker Room Lovers * Loving Ryan and Chris * Me and Bobby McKee * Meeting Timmy * Pleasure Island * Queer Factor * Tony and Me * Weekend at B.A.'s * Writer's Block * You and I at the Arcade * Your Dream * Pool Boy Author's Note - I strongly encourage you to read this story FROM THE BEGINNING!! ================================== After we had returned from filming that day's `takes', I heard a light knocking on my hotel room door. I got up to answer it, opening the door to see 14 year old Michael standing there before me. "Um, hi, Michael", I said. "Won't you come in?" "Thank you, sar, shorely," he said, his western twang from my `cowboy son' in my dream of the night before, gone now, replaced by his broad Norfolk accent. He walked in and tentatively stood by the bed, as I closed the door. He was wearing shorts and a golf shirt, and was freshly showered and primped. It was a far cry from the dirty, sweaty young cowboy that I had fucked in my, or rather, our, dream. He shifted his balance from foot to foot, and was clearly nervous. "Sar, I believe....I believe that a dream I had last night was something more than just a dream. I overheard Kevin and David speaking. I must know, was my dream of being your son, in your American West, cowboys....was it real?" I must have been getting used to his accent now. His gaze was intent, his blue eyes locked on mine. I hesitated. "Yes, it was something like real. It was a shared dream between you and me, and everything we did was something we might do in real life. It was intended to show us both, where our true interests lie. Does that make sense?" "Oh, yes sir," he said, his expression relaxing. "And I've been able to think of nothing else since. Um, since in my...our dream, you were quite...intimate...with me, I was wondering if you would be interested in re-creating the dream...with me?" I was amazed. Michael seemed to have rapidly grasped the repercussions of the dream, and was now trying to leverage it to seduce me! "Yes, I would, Michael. I surely would," I replied slowly. Michael grinned, brushing back his brown hair from over his eyes, then walked up to me and placed a hand on each of my shoulders, leaning his face upwards to kiss me, pressing himself against me as he did. His body was warm and slim, a young boy still. His lips, too, were warm, and insistent, as we kissed, our breathing quickly shared between us, hot breath racing across each other's cheeks. He leaned his mouth against my ear. "Let me do this," he hissed quickly into my ear, tickling me, then he gently pushed me back, leaving me sitting on the bed, my feet on the floor. I was wearing a pair of khaki slacks, and an oxford short sleeve shirt. Michael began unbuttoning my shirt, avoiding my gaze as he did, but giggling whenever I did manage to catch his eye. He soon had it unbuttoned, baring my hairy chest, then he dragged it off my shoulders, and threw it further back onto the bed, partially draped over a pillow and partially hanging down to the floor. He leaned forward to lick at my nipples, taking each between his teeth in turn, and worrying it with his tongue, sending sparks straight to my cock, which was becoming uncomfortably swollen in my pants. Then Michael began unbuckling my belt, and unbuttoning the snap, pulling my slacks down off my hips, so I was left only in my boxers. The front of my shorts were tented out from my obvious erection. Michael knelt down in front of me, between my legs, and gently, shyly, kissed the tip of my dick through the thin cotton. Then he more aggressively mouthed my penis, still separated from it by the cotton, attempting to suck it into his mouth. My fingers ran through his long, dark hair, loving its glossiness and weight. His breath was hot on my cock. Then Michael put his fingers on the waistband of the undershorts, pulling them down off my ass. I lifted up my butt to make it easier for him, and he slipped them carefully over my cock, then down my thighs and off my feet. As I sat there, naked in front of him, Michael took in my nude body with his eyes, particularly my stiff cock, long, pink shaft topped with a plump, dark red head, the piss slit wet with growing desire. He seemed fascinated by my man's dick, and his eyes sought permission to touch it. I nodded. "It was so hard, and hot inside me," he said, referring to his ass fucking in our dream. Dreamily, his small hands sought out the shaft, wrapping both hands around my dick. His touch was naive, but knowing, awkward at first, but quickly gaining expertise as he translated his dream experiences to real life. He cooed with pleasure at the heavy feel of it, velvety and smooth, radiating heat into his fingers. He reluctantly let it go, then stood back from me. "I'm going to get naked for you," he announced, then pulled his golf shirt over his head, momentarily getting his head caught in the tangled fabric. As he did so, he pushed his chest out, twisting around slightly, and I admired his pink nipples, small, only a little larger than a quarter, contrasted against his even paler, smooth chest. His navel was a small pocket of cute boy, tightly wrinkled flesh in a dark pink knot, stomach flat and boyish. Wresting his shirt off at last, he flung it onto the bed, his hair completely tousled and messed, his neatly brushed coiffe a ruin now. He grinned at me, and I smiled back. "You're beautiful," I murmured, and he blushed prettily, a red glow rising up his chest onto his face. Blush aside, he acted as though he hadn't heard me, and continued stripping for me. He concentrated on unbuttoning his shorts, normally a simple operation, but due to his being a little flustered at my comment, taking longer. Soon, though, he had the button undone, and the zipper halfway open, eagerly pushing his shorts down his slim, hairless legs to the floor. He kicked them away from him, as he stood there in his tighty whities. His small boner was pushing out, as he pirouetted for me, wanting my eyes to concentrate on his sweet, round ass, still unfortunately covered. He looked at me, seeking approval of what I saw. "You're the most beautiful boy I know, Michael," I said, and he ran into my arms, kissing my neck. "I want you to fuck me, like you did....in the dream." He didn't move until he felt me nod, then with a small cry he leaped away from me, posing before me again. Hooking a thumb under either side of his waistband, he began slipping the white fabric down his boyishly slim hips. It was then that I noticed the small wet spot where the tip of his dick pressed into the cotton. Cocking his hips back and forth, he coyly worked the fabric down, the tip of his dick slipping above the waistband, the pink shaft slowly revealed as he finished disrobing. Soon his hard penis was flopping down, sticking straight out from his groin, small patch of dark brown hair at its base, his balls looking just like I remembered from the dream. The white underpants huddled in a small, clean mass at his feet, and he neatly stepped out of them, fully naked now. Then he walked over and sat on my lap, once again raising his lips to mine, aggressively kissing me, his warm, wet lips soft on mine, our warm bodies writhing together nakedly, our heat joining to enflame us both, his smooth body pressed into my hard, hairy one. My penis stood up, leaking my sexual fluid, next to his thigh, dripping a thin stream of the sticky liquid onto his creamy skin. Teasingly, Michael ran the tip of his index finger over my piss slit, scooping up a viscous droplet of semen and dabbing it onto his tongue. He looked almost astonished, but mainly pleased. "It tastes like it did in the dream!" he exclaimed. "I would like some more please," he said, sounding for a moment like a small child instead of an emerging, randy teenager. He looked up at me expectantly, then gave me a peck on my lips, and said. "So, I'm going to go get it!" With that, he hopped off my lap, then knelt between my legs, pushing them apart to give him close access to my cock and balls. My dick stood at a 45 degree angle, pointing right towards his cute mouth, my balls, full of man cream, hung low, but were already starting to pull up closer in anticipation of cumming. It's so beautiful," he moaned, as a small droplet of creamy, white fluid filled my piss slit again. Michael lowered his full, red lips onto the plump head of my 8" cock, stretching his sweet lips apart. His mouth was hot and wet on the dick head and the long, pink shaft, and he immediately began swirling his rough, pink tongue over the sensitive glans, almost making me jump from the sensation overload. I put my hands into his hair, weaving my fingers through his fresh, newly mussed locks, feeling the heat of his scalp, and a faint touch of moisture as he perspired there. Michael moaned, then looked up at me, even as my cock sunk deeper into his sweet, sucking mouth. He bobbed his head up and down, as he frigged the base of my shaft that wouldn't fit into his mouth. I was getting very excited, nearly too much so, and I warned him. "Michael, I'm near cumming already," I whispered. "If you don't want me to cum yet...." Michael reluctantly pulled his mouth off my cock, though he still slowly caressed the shaft, now from the base to just under the plump dick head, and said, "No, I don't want you to cum yet. You won't be able to do more if you do," he explained unnecessarily, though it certainly clarified that he was interested in doing more than just sucking my dick, as pleasant as that was! Then he poised his mouth over the tip of my dick, as he held it pointing straight up, piquing my curiosity. He then let loose three large globs of saliva onto my cock, coating it in the slippery fluid, fresh from his cute mouth. The hot fluid ran down the sides, small drops of clear spit perching on my curly, black hair like decorations on a Christmas tree. Then Michael got up, back on his feet, his little pecker looking even harder and bigger than ever, his small balls in the pink scrotum, pulled close to his nearly hairless groin. He bent over, pretending to be picking up his underpants, but in obvious reality, giving me a long, undisturbed and unobstructed view of the magnificent, puckered brown hole between his gorgeous ass cheeks. The tiny, wrinkled opening was pulsing open and closed, and I could just see a sliver of moist pink inside his hole. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity that Michael was so freely giving me, and put my hands firmly on his hips, pulling his butt cheeks towards me, the heat of his bottom hot on my cheeks. I kissed his soft, round ass, then pushed my face between his boy pillows, placing another kiss on that little ass mouth, tasting his wonderfully clean body there. The smell of his bath soap was flowery and filling my nostrils. I thrust my tongue deep inside his tight opening, my rough tongue sliding into his slick rectum. I pushed in as much saliva as I could, wetting and opening him there. Then I moved my face away from Michael's anus, smiling at the now-glistening surfaces there, and inserted the tip of my index finger inside him, up to the first knuckle. "Ohh!" Michael exclaimed, but he didn't pull away. In fact, he moved his feet further apart to accommodate my entry into his ass. I slid my finger inside him, spreading the slick, wet saliva around his opening and interior, fucking my finger in and out of his hot hole. "Ohh, yeahhh," he breathed, as I fucked him faster. After a little while, I added a second finger, sliding two fingers into him, penetrating this 14 year old boy anally, fucking his tight, boy ass. Michael was laughing and crying both, as he tried to move his ass backwards onto my hand. "Please, please, please, fuck me, fuck me, please fuck me now, Jeff, PLEASE!!" he gasped. He stood up straight when my fingers had momentarily left his rectum, then turned to me, his dick bobbing with excitement, his boy juices flowing out of his little piss slit. He pushed me back onto the bed, then climbed up on my lap, facing me, his knees on the bed, and poised his cute, pale ass over my dick, his dark, brown hole nestling onto my cock. Michael stared into my eyes passionately, his blue eyes intent on mine, a small smile on his cute, boyish face, as he lowered himself onto my cock. I could feel my dick head pressing against his anal sphincter, the tiny hole too impossibly small for a cock the size of mine, 8" long and thick. I began to fear that it would be nothing like the way it had gone in the dream, and I was set to tell Michael to stop, when my cock head, fat and wide, popped through his opening, locking me momentarily inside his hot and moist boy ass. The most exquisite jolt of pleasure shot through me, as his moist and hot canal gripped my cock firmly, as his fingers had previously. It was apparent that Michael was feeling a similar pleasure, as his eyes rolled back in his head, then he closed his eyes, sobbing with ecstasy. "Unnh, unnh, unnh," he crooned mindlessly, as his body slowly slipped down, then back up on my pole, again and again, fucking me as I fucked him deep inside his bowels, his boy pussy spasming with delight and pleasure. Small spurts of creamy white boy cum oozed from his piss slit, his small balls pulling up close into his groin as he approached his orgasm. My own excitement was nearly overwhelming, but I wanted to make sure that Michael would have an opportunity to feel the ultimate pleasure a man can give to a boy. "I love fucking your tight little slutty hole, your boy cunt is so hot and tight as I ram my pole inside you, baby," I moaned. "I'm gonna fill your hot little boy twat with my sticky man cream, cum running out of your ass hole all night long," I continued. "Cum on my cock, squeeze your delicious little ass on my hot shaft, I want to spurt you full of jizz!!" That set him off. As he leaned forward, kissing me even as he bounced up and down on me, his tongue spastically slipping between my lips, fucking my mouth as I fucked his ass, Michael moaned into my mouth, and I felt hot spurt after hot spurt of boy cum, jetting out of his small dick and onto my hairy upper chest, tendrils of white, sticky cream draping itself from hair to hair, some smearing across a nipple. Feeling Michael cum on me then set me off, and I rocketed my hips upwards, striving to get my penis as deep inside of Michael's intoxicating boy anus as I possibly could. I could feel my own hot spurts filling his sweet rectum, sheets of creamy man jizz coating his interior. Michael sighed with pleasure as he felt my wetness and heat enter and fill him, and pushed himself down on me to ensure it was as deep inside him as possible. Michael mashed his lips to mine sloppily, expressing his love and affection for me orally, and making my own heart flutter with emotion. "Oh, Michael," was all I could say, as I held him in my arms, his body warm against mine. As my cock slowly shrunk, and slipped out of his wet hole, we embraced, then moved into a more comfortable position, heads resting on the king size pillow, sheet covering us as our bodies entwined warmly. And then we slept. To my surprise, I had no dream that night, occasionally waking to find Michael still in my arms, snoring sweetly, his soft, tousled hair splayed over my chest as he slept. About three in the morning, I awoke, and looked down at him, as his head lay on my chest, right on my right nipple. The light of the moon shone in the balcony french doors, illuminating my view. His cheek appeared rosy in the subdued light, his face smoothly complected. The sheet had slipped down off us both, our naked bodies revealed, still in intimate contact. His shoulders seemed small as he slept, a little boy as he dreamt. His arms were long, and pale, his hands grasped me as though he were afraid I would disappear, fingers slowly, dreamily, stroking my hard muscles. His lips formed small mews, licking them occasionally, swallowing, making small, boy sounds of sleep. I found myself feeling love for him, and remembered feeling love for Jeremy, too, in my very first dream - then it occurred to me that I was falling in love with each boy as I came to know him. The boys were all magnificent, beautiful, wonderful, amusing, exciting - the adjectives of a newly smitten lover, describing his love, came to me so easily with these young boys, and I found myself overwhelmed by the responsibility of doing the right thing for them. I must do right, you wouldn't hurt the one you love, would you? Even if the `one' was actually `nine'? I shuddered with the awesome responsibility, and the hope that I was doing right. These thoughts condensed into my soul as I lay with Michael, and the next thing I knew, it was morning, and I heard the shower running. I groggily climbed my way out of bed, and staggered over to the shower. As I expected, Michael was in the shower adjoining the bath tub, the glass door coyly hiding the specifics of his beauty, while turning him into the most delicious water color painting a man could ever want to see. When he saw me, he pushed the door open, water dripping onto the floor, steam billowing out. "Jeff, c'mon, join me," he said, his voice echoing off the tile walls and floor. I stepped into the chamber, hot and moist, since I wasn't wearing anything, and Michael wrapped me in his arms, hugging me sweetly. The water, hot and fresh, raced over my arms and chest, and drew rivulets in Michael's hair. "I had the loveliest dreams," Michael said. "Not exciting like the night before, just...lovely," he concluded. I had myself awoken with a feeling of peace and contentment, no memory of any wild dream such as the orgy with 13 year old Kevin, or the squire dream with 10 year old David, or the cowboy dream that Michael and I had shared previously, but most certainly with the real memory of the ass fucking I had given Michael the night before. "How's your bottom?" I said, as Michael's soap-slippery body rubbed against me. Michael giggled. "Satisfied," he replied, and grinned up at me. I smiled back at him. "It was wonderful with you," I said. "Now, can I have some soap?" "Oh yes, but I must apply it!" he squeaked. He began soaping me down inexpertly, charming me ever so much. His small fingers stroked through the curly, dark hairs on my chest, oohing at the feel of clumped strands of hair between his fingers. "I haven't any hair like that," he lamented, his fingertips pausing at my brown nipples, goose- pimpled at his touch. "That's one of the things I like best about you," I confessed. "Your body is so deliciously slick and smooth." He smiled up at me. "For sartain?" he asked, in his adorable accent. "For certain," I confirmed, leaning down to kiss him, as the fingers of his right hand continued to curl through my chest hair, but his left hand fell to my cock, his fingers impishly caress my long cock, and heavy balls. "Oh my," he squeaked, at the steel firmness of my dick. "How very lovely," he sighed. He was now soaping me in two fairly sensitive areas, and losing track at trying to do both at once, with each area overloading him with sensual feedback. Finally, he gave up, and brought both hands to my cock, his hands wrapped around its girth. "I'd like to get you nice and clean, may I, so that I may take you into my mouth, mayn't I?" "Sure," I said, "but at the rate you're going you're more likely to see me shoot into your face. Your fingers feel quite nice, but I'm not sure if I'm getting all that clean..." "Right," he said. "Then I should get right to work!" And true to his word, he industriously set to work cleaning me with the washcloth and soap, leaving only my ass. "Um, you're all done," he said. "You didn't do my bottom," I pointed out gently. "I know....I was afraid to." "Afraid?" I asked, curious. I knew I'd have no hesitation doing HIS cute little butt! "Well, I was embarrassed to touch you there...you know, it's where, well....poop. Poop comes out." "Yes, well it's not coming out now," I pointed out. "And it most certainly WON'T be coming out any time in the near future..." "I was just, um, shy about touching you there," he admitted. "Well, soap me up, wipe me down, and do your best, okay?" I said, with a small sigh. I guess the sigh got to him. He lavishly soaped up my hard muscled ass, his fingers lingering on my glutes, and then to my surprise, I felt a small finger wriggling inside my hole. I relaxed my sphincter to allow him entrance. I heard a small giggle as he tentatively finger fucked me. "Well, it feels, and SOUNDS LIKE, you got over your fear..." "Um, yes sir," he said. "It's really quite nice. If it were properly clean, do you think I could lick you back there?" "Yes indeed," I replied. "I'd like that." I started thinking about how nice that would be, when I felt his face squeezing in between my ass globes. "I didn't mean `right now', though that feels nice," I squeaked out, laughing. "Let's just make sure we're both rinsed off now, okay?" Then I knelt down before him, and gently took his half hard little penis in my mouth. I aggressively sucked on his rod, loving the feel of an excited young boy's cock in my mouth, as I had done so briefly and hurriedly with David in the men's room. But here, we could take our time, and the water racing down our bodies felt so romantic, as did his fingers running slowly through my hair. I slipped his plump cock tip between my lips, momentarily squeezing and holding him just under the helmet head, eliciting a groan from the cute 14 year old. "Unnh, feels good," he grunted, his hips already unconsciously pushing forward. I loosened the grip my lips had on his pink shaft, his dick slipping all the way into my mouth, his dick head pressing against the back of my throat. My left hand went around to his plump, round butt cheek on that side, lightly squeezing his warm bottom, while my fingers sought out his boy sphincter. My right hand gripped the base of his penis, where I began frigging him, as my head bobbed up and down on the velvety muscle. I could feel his thigh muscles shift, as he relaxed his anal opening - he really wanted to feel my finger entering him...penetrating him....fucking his cunt. "Yessssss", he hissed, I moved my mouth off his dick, which seemed happy enough with my fingers caressing its length, and mouthed each of his balls through his wrinkled sack. The small, walnut sized huevos responded actively to the pressure of my mouth, pulling up into his sparsely-haired groin. Michael swayed his hips, the pleasure running through his groin already nearly overwhelming. I kept my mouth on his ball sack, and sped up my jacking of his delightfully stiff prick, while my index finger slid deep inside his intimate, boy opening in one swift movement. "FUCK!" was all he had time to say, before three thick spurts of wonderful boy cream shot out of his cock, coating my left cheek and on into my hair, as Michael orgasmed, stiffening and standing up on his tiptoes as a rictus of ecstasy immobilized him momentarily. I stood up, holding his slim, warm, wet body against me, then shampooed my hair again, grinning at Michael's muttered, "Sorry." After a moment or two, he added,"And now I want to do you." He took my hand, leading me out of the shower, pausing to turn off the water. Then he took one of the thick, plush bath towels, and rubbed me dry. "Lean here," he said, brusquely, gesturing at the vanity. I leaned against it, facing the mirror, as Michael knelt behind me, separating my butt cheeks. "The more I think about your butt, the more I want it," he said. "Randy little cunt," I joked. His words in reply were smothered as he pushed his face between my humid ass cheeks, kissing my tight, hairy hole with his plump, boy lips. His mouth tickled my pucker, the exciting feel of a boy's hot mouth on my ass hole, thankfully clean for him. Then I felt his tongue venturing forward, inside my anus, fucking into me, rough tongue tickling my sphincter. Michael grunted with pleasure as he ate my ass out, licking and kissing my man hole, laving it with his spit. His hand reached around my hip, stroking and caressing my sensitive cock shaft, furiously jacking me off as he ate me out. "Fuck, that's good!" I exclaimed. "I'm gonna cum really soon, Michael," I warned him. He just redoubled his efforts. Soon I could feel hot spurts of cum jetting through my long shaft, onto the smooth vanity top, coating the dark marble in white, creamy jizz. A small pool formed about six inches away from my cock head, an island of liquid in an ocean of dark marble. I relaxed, and as my body lost tension, Michael sensed I was done, loosening his grip on me. "Was that good, Jeff?" he asked shyly, as he stood. I leaned down and kissed his soft, boy lips. "Oh, the very best," I said, truthfully. Michael spotted the pool of cream, and leaned down, licking my cum, still hot and sticky, off the marble, enjoying the taste and consistency of my semen. He grinned at me when he finished, standing up straight again. "We'd better go," he said. We headed off to the commercial shoot. No one asked me about Michael's absence overnight, or why we arrived together, which I ascribed to the workings of the mysterious `Stanley Perkins', ostensibly the boys' chaperone, but in reality, someone far more hidden in his intentions. ============================ If you liked this story, drop me a line at JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com. Thanks!