Date: Sat, 19 Oct 2002 17:16:20 -0500 From: Shadowlawn Subject: Cock Tale - The Beginning The name's Robert Raleigh, Jr., and this is the beginning of a series of stories leading up to a conclusion that rocked my world. Hope you like them all. It's not that I'm bitching or anything, because I guess things could be worse, but I've had a rough childhood. From where I'm standing at 18, it looks like things maybe getting better. Who knows, if I've learned anything it's that one day's events can change your entire life. I'll fill you in a little bit about the past so you'll know where I'm coming from and maybe see where I'm headed. My mom and dad got married when she was just 17 and he barely 18 (and being 18 now myself I can't even imagine what they were thinking, or their folks). Anyhow I came along almost exactly 9 months to the day later, a month and a half short of dad's 19th birthday and three months after he'd hitched up with the U.S. Marines. He'd finished basic training and was station at Camp Pendleton out in California. My mom was back home with grandma and grandpa; the government let dad fly home to Tennessee for my arrival. That was the first and only time we were together in the next 18 years. A few months after I was born dad sends this letter to mom saying that their marriage was a mistake, that he's fallen in love with another woman and wants a divorce. From what I hear (I never saw the letter) he didn't even mention me. So they were divorced and I grew up without a real dad. I kind of felt bummed not ever having had a father and I guess it had some effect on me that I don't even realize, but on the surface I couldn't tell. Like they say, you can't miss what you never had. My first 7 years weren't too bad. Grandpa did his best to be the man in my life, but then he died, followed by grandma less than a year later. From that point on things seemed to just go down hill. Without her folks mom was lost and like lots of folks do in this part of the country she turned to the church. Why she had to turn to the holy rolling Pentecostals I'll never understand, but she did. In little more than a year she'd found herself a "good Christian man" to be my stepfather. What he really is, is a complete and total asshole. Oh, he's always been a good provider and the family never went without, but this guy's so pleased with himself that he thinks the Good Lord actually talks to him. Take it from me there's something seriously wrong with a person who thinks every opinion and idea they have is totally right because God told them so. Mom bought it hook, line and sinker, whatever he said was law. I felt like I was being raised in a boot camp for God. I didn't dare step out of line because God had told him that a whipping was the best way to punish disobedient children. It only took a few of those and the resulting red welts on my back and ass cheeks to convince me to walk a very narrow path. On Sundays I attended Sunday school, morning church service, youth fellowship, followed by the evening church service. During the week I went to a Christian school and on Wednesday evenings went with the family to Bible study. I became the model Christian youth, on the outside anyway. What was going on inside me was a different story. Even though I tried hard to please him in every way my stepfather never treated me like his son. He and my mom gave me two half-sisters and one half-bother, and I love them all just like we were full kin, but he was always harder and angrier with me, not that he wasn't strict with them, it was just that with me he was always harsher. Like I said he believed in whippings and they got their fare share, but never as bad as me. Take the last whipping I ever got. I was just 12 years old and he found a pack of cigarettes hidden between my mattress and boxspring. He didn't even catch me smoking, but I got a whipping to end all whippings. I even had to be put to bed with a fever from it and the marks didn't go away for months. Now he never went that far with any of the other kids; even when he caught my brother Johnny smoking a cigarette he just got a couple of lashes across his bare ass. That's why when I entered puberty at around 13 I was always scared shitless. Yeah on the outside I was the boy other parents pointed to as "one who walked with the Lord," and the one expected by all to get the call and go on off to Bible College to become a preacher. What I kept hidden were the impure and evil thought that filled my mind, any one of which I knew would damn me to a fiery hell. Sex was never mentioned in our home, but I'd heard enough church sermons and school lectures on the subject to know what you couldn't do, even if I didn't exactly know how such things were done. One thing was for certain, I knew that the biggest, most damnable sin there ever was or ever could be was one man having anything whatsoever to do with another man. So when I got the urge to touch myself down there, or when I'd spring a boner or even when I'd have a wet dream I'd always panic, but when thought and ideas about other guys' cocks entered my mind I was scared beyond imagination. The way I looked at it was if my stepfather would whip me senseless for having a pack of cigarettes, he would kill me sure if he knew I had desires to be with a man. I did everything I could think of so that would never happen. Though I was always worried when I had a wet dream, for some reason nothing was ever said. That didn't mean I pushed my luck. Though it seemed to me that I always had the urge to beat my meat I only did so in the boy's room at school and even then I only did it once a day. I went about making myself into what I thought a real man should be. I decided to build up my body and asked permission to buy a set of weights so that I could begin doing daily lifting. I had to be real careful how I approached my stepfather on the subject. I knew that if he got the idea that I was interested in making myself look good he'd angrily dismiss the idea as the sin of vanity. Instead I told him that I wanted to build up my body so that I would be a proper temple for the Lord. He bought it and bought me the weight set. (It paid off because now at 18 I have a really great body. Not muscled bound or anything, just hard and tight with virtually no body fat. My abs and pecs are cleanly chiseled and I sport powerful looking arms and legs. At only 5'8" I'm not the biggest guy you'll ever see, but I'm a sturdy, butch little stud in appearance.) The image that I wanted to portray wasn't hurt any by the fact that girls flocked around me. Besides a steadily improving body I had fairly cute face (if you overlook an occasional zit) with bright blue and naturally blonde hair just like my mom; I guess they liked the whole package. I started dating at 15, being a good Christian boy dating good Christian girls nobody ever thought it strange when I didn't put the moves on any of them. The closest thing to flesh on flesh contact that happened was some occasional hand holding and even then I only did it when somebody else could see, not because I got the urge to do so. Nothing I did, of course, made "those" feelings go away. If anything they only got stronger. Just when I thought I was going to explode from frustration and repressing desires I caught a break. We live in a small town about 35 miles outside of Nashville and my stepfather runs and owns a Christian bookstore in the city. Anyway shortly after I turned 16, he tells me that one of his best customers, a good Christian widow man, asked him if he knew of anyone looking for a weekend job. He said the guy owned some kind of warehouse business and business was so good that he needed someone to do extra stocking work on Saturdays. Hiring a teenager meant he'd save a lot of money in the overtime he'd otherwise have to pay to one of his regular worker. He was offering $10 an hour (which I'll admit was good money). The upshot is that my stepfather ups and offers me. I knew better than to argue with him when he'd made up his mind so I agreed to take the job. Besides he even offered to let me use my mom's car (something she wasn't too happy about) and since I'd only had my license for a month I was psyched about being able to drive that much, even if it was mostly on the interstate. The only other time I had been allowed to drive her car was to church on Sunday evening. I reported to work at 8:00 that first Saturday morning and any misgivings I might have had disappeared when I met Maxwell Peters, my new boss. He was 36, tall, thin and handsome, black hair streaked with gray and almost steel gray eyes. His body, while obviously not buff seemed totally firm without the hint of a paunch like my stepfather or most men that age. I thought he looked great (I seem to have a thing for older men who haven't let themselves fall apart). Besides looking sexy he was a real nice guy with a warm, friendly personality. He may have been a "good Christian widow man," but he was the exact opposite of my stepfather. Max, as he insisted I call him, explained what he wanted me to do and then left me to do it while he went back to his office to do paperwork. At around noon he paged me over the loud speaker to come to his office and when I got there I found out that he'd called for a pizza delivery. Together we ate lunch while he explained that he imported things from Asia for sale to small retail stores. Afterward I got back to the job and he returned to doing his book. My job was hard physical labor and I worked up a good and steady sweat. It hit me that all the lifting and toting was as good as a couple of workouts as far as my body was concerned and I was getting paid to do it. At about 4:00 Max came out and said that was enough for today and complimented me on the good job I'd done. He looked at my tee shirt and cut offs noting that they were glued to my body with sweat. "I think you should take a shower to cool down and clean up, we have an employee locker room with a four head shower stall," he said. "That would be great," I agreed, "but I didn't bring a change of clothes, it doesn't make much sense to clean up and then get back in these stinky wet clothes." "You're right about that, but I have a solution. I can let you borrow one of the uniforms the guys wear while they're working. You can return it next week and bring a change of your own clothes or you can use a uniform, they're provided by a uniform service. Follow me, I'll fix you up with a uniform and then show you show you where the locker room is. I trailed after him. First he stopped at a double door closet, unlocked and opened it to reveal shelves holding any number of uniforms. "I think medium should fit, your built but not big enough to fill out a large," he said eyeing me up and down. I couldn't help smile at what I took to be a compliment. He handed me a shirt and pair of work pants and then relocked the door. I walked with him toward the locker room. He showed me where soap and towels were kept and then pointing toward the shower room said, "take your time I still have about an hour's worth of work to do, just let me know when you're leaving so I can lock the door behind you. The next three or four Saturdays went more or less the same way. I'd get in at 8:00, Max would assign me my job for the day, at noon he'd page me to his office either for pizza or a grinder, then I'd work until around 4:00 when the loud speaker would announce that it was time for my shower. Then on the fourth or fifth Saturday things seem to be the same as ever, but I was wrong. The day went as usual and just before 4:00 Max's voice boomed out over the loud speaker, "time to hit the shower Sport." I finished up what I was doing and headed for the locker room. Soon I was naked and standing under the hot, steamy water letting it run over my body and relax my sore muscles. After a minute or so I began to rub the soap over my naked skin enjoying the sensation of my hands running over my slicked up body. When I got to my cock and balls I extremely aware of just how horny I'd was. My cock was standing up hard and tall. I allowed my hand the luxury of lingering in the forbidden zone. I was overcome with desire. I felt secure. The warmth and wetness of the small shower room created a sensual atmosphere I'd never before experienced. I took a step backwards and leaned up against the tile wall, closing my eyes as my soapy hands explored and brought pleasure to my hard dick and tight balls. I had never quite felt this good, this sexy, it a whole dimension of physical sensation. I wanted it to last for as long as possible, but I knew with the way I was feeling between my legs I wouldn't last long. To prolong the pleasure I moved my hands away from my cock and balls up to my chest. I ran them over the taunt bare flesh, rubbing my nipples roughly with my thumbs and tweaking them until they stood out hard. I was in like total heaven. Once I'd chilled out enough I returned my hand to my thick 6 1/2 inches and began gliding it, ever so slowly, up and down the shaft. This sent waves of pleasure through my entire body. I was in my version of heaven and couldn't imagine how anything could be better. "I can help you with that." The sound of Max's voice shocked me so much that his words didn't register. My eyes shot open, I stood up straight and did the best I could to cover my rock hard meat with my hands. The only thought going through my mind was that my stepfather was going to kill me. I don't even think I realized that Max was just as naked as I was and that his cock was just as hard as mine had been, though at that moment it was deflating rapidly. The look on my face must have been one of total horror and fear because I do remember Max looking very concerned. "Relax Rob," he said quietly, "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you." "Please don't tell my stepfather," I said nearly sobbing. "That's the last thing I'd ever do," he said in a very reassuring tone. I began to relax and for the first time realized he was naked. "Like I said," he was talking as he moved towards me, "all I want to do is help you out with this." He reached out and took my limp cock in his hand. He gently pushed me back against the wall. It was all too much. I couldn't really get my mind around what was happening. I offered no resistance. Once he had me where he wanted he fell to his knees and placed my still very limp dick fully into his mouth. He ran his tongue around it while suckling on it like a calf on an udder. A bolt of electricity surged through my body somehow clearing the confusion from my mind. I didn't quite understand how, why or when, but I was unmistakably aware that Max Peters had my cock in his mouth. One things for sure, my cock knew exactly what was happening to it. Just moments before it had been shocked nearly dead, now it was ramrod hard and trying to extend itself to 7 inches. The feelings and sensations I'd been giving myself a few minute earlier faded into insignificance compared to the real thing. The way he was going at me Max must have been starving for a piece of boymeat. He took me all the way down his throat then pulled back to my meaty head and back down again to my pubes. As he did so he ran is tongue along my shaft and then over the head, going back down and repeating the process. He'd go fast then if my breathing got fast he'd back off some, going real slow. This went on for about three or four minutes. He somehow knew there was no way I could hold back any longer and at that point he just went wild on my cock. I can't really describe it in words; it was so good that it felt as though I had become my cock. There was no way I could hold back. I stood up on my tiptoes and my entire body went rigid. I felt my balls tighten, my cock began to throb and with a yell that echoed off the tile walls I began to pump gob after gob of hot, sticky boy juice into Max's mouth. For an instant I thought I should have pulled out before shooting my spunk, but I knew everything was cool as he gulped hungrily as I repeatedly fill his mouth with the biggest load of my life. When he'd drained me dry, he pulled off and fell back to a sitting position on the shower floor at my feet. He grabbed hold of his cock, which while a bit thinner than my own was a good two inches longer, and beat it until that sucker sprayed a mammoth load of his own. I was still leaning against the wall recovering and watching Max pleasure himself. Though totally drained sexually I still couldn't help but think that I'd like to do to his beautiful cock what he'd just finished doing to mine.