Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2011 23:58:17 -0800
From: marianasdeep3@hushmail.com
Subject: Fast Cash Stripper (Part 10:  Against Type)

Thanks for the kind comments and suggestions.  My other
stories can be found here:
http://www.nifty.org/nift/authors.html#marianasdeep
There will be one more installment, an epilogue.

Part X:  Against Type

When I awoke the next morning, Steve was still asleep.  I looked
over at his nude body, both of us having unconsciously uncovered
ourselves with the growing heat of the morning.  Steve was face
down.  I reached over and rubbed his back, with the eventual goal
of his ass.  I felt his butt, firm muscles, but unflexed and
yielding.  I rubbed it for awhile, taking advantage of my privilege
with him.  I already had a morning wood, and was getting horny.  I
rubbed his back again, hugged him, then kissed his back.  He didn't
stir.

I had to take a piss, uncovered the last of the covers off my legs,
sat up and stretched.  When I stood up, I saw my underwear on the
ground and instinctively put them on, my cob-webbed brain: "I don't
want to get caught nude by my sister as I walk down the hall to
take a piss."  I had to run hot water on my hand to relieve my
morning wood, finally managing a stream through a semi-erect cock
that I could finally aim below the toilet seat, but only if I sat,
leaned forward, and pushed down on it.  When I was finally relieved
of the piss, I pulled my underwear back up, covering my ass, then
my cock that was already hard again.  I came back into the room.
Steve was still asleep.

I grabbed a leftover donut on the table from the morning before,
then sat in the chair in my underwear, my knees pulled up to my
chest to keep warm.  I watched Steve sleep, his breathing lifting
his body and settling it back down again.  Then I focused on his
ass.  His ass was perfect.  Some butts are creased at the bottom,
some have no crease at all, muscles extending straight down to the
leg.  My butt was creased all the way across, the result of
slightly wider hips than most boys, somewhat flattening my ass.
Steve's was creased, but only near his asshole, the muscles of his
butt leading to the muscles defining his upper leg, but distinct.
His crack ran between two perfectly proportioned mounds, ending
into his spine, where a V opened and ran around the top of each
cheek, the border between butt and lower back.  I had to fuck it.
I HAD to fuck it.

I got up and went into the bathroom, knowing that the sink basin
had those little hotel bottles of shampoo and lotion.  I grabbed
the lotion bottle and returned to the bed.  I knelt onto the bed,
then straddled my knees over Steve's back, sat back on his upper
legs, and pulled the waist band of my underwear below my balls.  My
balls holding the underwear down, in was able to open the bottle
and rubbed lotion on the full length of my cock.  I squeezed a
little into Steve's crack, keeping it in the lower half, lightly
massaging his asshole with it.  With my underwear still held down
by my balls, I lowered them around back to the base of my butt,
then lay on Steve's back, settling my lotioned cock in the lotioned
valley between his mounds.  I wasn't going to just take his ass,
couldn't just take his ass, I leaned into his ear.

"Steve, I wanna fuck.  Steve, wake up, I wanna fuck." I informed
him, passionately.

Steve slowly aroused, then lifted his head.  He was surprised by me
lying on his back.  Then he felt my cock settled in his crack.  He
sprung awake, lifting himself on his arms, "What the FUCK!"

When he rolled to face me, I rolled the other way, sitting up on my
knees, cock pointing straight up.  His face matched his WTF.
Surprised by his rejection, and ashamed, I reached for the waist
band below my balls, stretched it out, then lifted it over my balls
and cock.  I reached both hands around my back, grabbed the waist
band below my butt, and began pulling it over my ass.  My arms were
still around back, my fingers about to release the elastic to snap
it to my waist around my butt, when it hit me.  A complete, utter
surprise.

Steve slugged me in the stomach.

It took my breath, doubled me over, my face hitting the bed, then
my shoulders, as I fell over.  I had playfully boxed with all my
friends, including Steve, but then you always knew to keep your
stomach muscles tight against the blows that got through.  Stomach
muscles loose, this one leveled me.

"You wanna fuck, huh?!  Answer me, you fucking faggot, you wanna
fuck?!" Steve yelled.

"Yes...," I said, next hearing "What?", "Yes." I said louder,
starting to sob in complete disbelief.

"OK, we'll fuck.  But you're going to know your place, pussy."

With that he lifted my hips, my butt in the air, rolling me to the
right, up slightly on my knees, still with face and right shoulder
on the bed.  He climbed on top of me, reached into my underwear and
grabbed my balls, and held them.  With his other hand, he moved the
elastic off my cock and down to my upper thigh.  The free hand then
went to the waist band above my butt, peeling it back, inside out
and down to my knees.  He had the presence of mind to squeeze the
last of the lotion into my crack.  But that was it.  He didn't
bother to open me.  He was nude already, still had his morning
wood, and it went right up my butt in a single thrust.

I yelled out.  It was never more painful, not even at the club.
Steve's cock wasn't as big as the adults at the club, but he was
big for his age.  He placed his right hand on my shoulder, a one
arm push-up while fucking me, while his other hand still held my
balls for control.  He settled into a fucking rhythm, the pain
first increasing, then slowly subsiding.  He was bouncing off my
butt, his push-up arm occasionally switching on a bounce from my
shoulder to my face, holding my head down.  As I would try to arch
my back up to get some relief, he would move the push-up arm to my
lower back to invert the arch down, his now unsupported chest
landing on my back, pushing my chest flat onto the bed, all while
raising my ass by lifting on my balls.  In this position, my
sphincter offered absolutely no resistance.

"You like that cock up your ass?  Answer."

"uhhh ...Yes."

"Good, take it you little slut."  He settled into pounding my ass,
occasionally switching positions between the push-up on my
shoulder, and the chest pressing on my back.  I couldn't believe
his anger as he fucked me.  I didn't have the words "top" and
"bottom" to organize my thinking then.  But the essence of the
thoughts were there.  I was a bottom.  I was excited by being a
bottom at the club, participated in it, even invited it, but I had
been raped at the club, at least statutorily, knowing that minors
can't consent to sex.  I was dealing with that, angry enough to
deck one of my assailants ... a fucking mob boss, though arguably
that wasn't from clear premeditated thought.  I drew the line,
though.  I wasn't going to be used like a rag doll.  But Steve was
a "top."  Powerful.  In command.  Fucking me now. With free will.
Was it possible that his anger was because he had been "used" too?
Can a "top" be used too?  Can a top be raped "topping"?  Was he
dealing with all that, like me?

I now had something else to deal with, something new for myself:
it was exciting as hell to be not only fucked, but dominated by
Steve.  Why was I being submissive?  I could take him.  Flip him.
Pin him.  I won as many games of Pink Belly as he did.  I was
getting fucked by my friend, letting him fuck me.  My idol.  Using
me.  The object of his desire.  He was now getting passionate too.
Talking more calmly, slowly, not lovingly yet, but affirming his
desire for me, building me up.

"I've been wanting to take your ass for at least a year now.  God,
your butt is hot.  I'm taking your ass now.  It's mine.  Do you
hear me?  I'm taking your ass."

I responded, yelling with sobs, "Yes, Fuck me Steve, Fuck me Steve,
Fuck me, Fuck me ..."

He blew his load.  I could tell.  Each thrust ended with that pause
and a grunt.  I was filling with his essence, his sperm finally up
my butt like I had always wanted; the first sperm from someone of
my own generation.

Steve pulled out, wiped his cock on my ass to score his conquest.
Then walked into the bathroom to relieve his morning piss.  He had
relieved his morning wood up my ass.  As if it was just another
itch to relieve, another morning ritual, like the release of his
piss I was now hearing, streaming into the toilet bowl.

He came back perplexed.  I could see it on his face as he spoke,
"I'm sorry I slugged you."

"It's o.k." I said.

"I didn't want to go there.  I told you that last night."

"I know," I said, "I'm glad you did though.  I'm your first.
You're my first.  The stuff at the club is bullshit.  Doesn't
count.  You do."

With that he came onto the bed and hugged me, "You didn't get off,
did you?"
"No ... but it's o.k." I replied.

"No it's not.  O' Connor showed you how to satisfy yourself, right?"

"Yes."

"I would love it if you'd ride my cock."  With that, he sat back,
his cock getting hard again.  I straddled his hips.  I already had
his cock deep in my ass from the first fuck, so now I faced him,
rather than aiming my butt at him.  The cock hurt at first going
in, but then it went back and up, lubed by his cum already up my
ass.  Steve was only 14.  His cock wasn't full sized yet, not long
enough to stay up my ass in this position.  It fell out of my ass a
couple of times.  We re-inserted it each time.  I bounced, sat
back, bounced again.  Occasionally he thrusted, the top of his cock
sliding along my prostate.  He rubbed my chest, playfully massaging
my tits.  I built up and fired my ropes of cum.  Steve didn't mind
them landing on his chest.  My sphincter sucked Steve's cock with
each spasm, then stopped.  I was done, he was not.  A few hip
thrusts and I knew Steve was having a second orgasm in my butt.
Spent, I lay on his chest in my own cum.  He cupped my butt and
rubbed.  Rubbed my back.  More of his heartbeat in my ear, his
breathing, his warmth.  I fell asleep in his arms.

I didn't sleep long.  Steve had gotten up and turned on Saturday
morning cartoons, watching while sitting on the edge of the bed,
still nude.  I looked at his cock.  Though the cum had dried, his
cock was still shiny.  He hadn't bothered to wipe off any of his
second orgasm, still on his cock, the only cum that had left my
asshole when he had pulled out.  His cock was now flaccid,
completely satisfied from two morning orgasms up my butt, but still
holding me captive with its power over my gaze.

"Dabida, Dabida, Dabida, that's all folks."  Porky Pig.  The Bugs
Bunny Show was followed by the Pink Panther and The Ant and the
Ardvark.  Then cartoons ended as the older boys around town woke up
and tuned in, switching to The Beverly Hillbillies.  I enjoyed the
cartoons, and Jethro caring for his pet turtles in "the cement
pond."  But I also got to watch Steve's balls, slowly rising, then
settling, then rising again, inside his scrotum, with minds of
their own, manufacturing Steve's next load of sperm.

Then a news flash came on, "We interrupt this program to bring you
a special news bulletin, an update on the four missing teenagers.
A bicycle and a mini-bike registered to one of the missing, Steve
Talbert, were found by construction workers inspecting a sewer line
this morning."

"FUCK!!" yelled Steve, "And it's not a fucking mini-bike.  Mo-to-
Cross-Mo-tor-Cy-cle.  How fucking hard is it?"

"Well, they know where we WERE.  They probably think we're still in
the sewer." I said.

"Yeah, well they know where we ARE, too." Steve said, "at least
within a couple of miles of our bikes.  Underground yeah maybe, but
they'll be checking the streets."

"Can't we just wait and `get caught' here?" I asked.

"Then we would have to explain to our parents why we were hiding in
a hotel room." Steve said, "It's better if we get caught in the
sewer, like when we were arrested."

"Yeah, we can just say we got lost in there." I added.

"We gotta get back into the sewer." Steve said.

"Can we wait until tomorrow?" I asked.

"I was wanting to hold out until then, too, but I don't think we
can now." Steve offered his opinion, but then questioned me, "You
were the one that wanted to get back to your Dad?"

"I want to stay here one more day with you." I bluntly admitted.
The look in my eyes let him know immediately what I wanted.  I was
expecting a blunt "no," sex and affection not even a consideration
now, especially after he had just told me, last night and this
morning, that he "didn't want to go there" anyway.  But I was
surprised.

"...Me too." The look in his eyes communicated the same desire.

"...We cut now to Mr. Edison, Chief of Police.  The bikes were found
near an access in the storm system very close to The Drain.  We
have to suspect they may be in The Drain, but I certainly hope
that's not the case.  I'd like to think it was the other way
around.  They accessed the storm system by way of The Drain.
Still, we have to search The Drain.  We got assurances from the
Meteorological Service that there won't be any storms early today
over any of the valleys that ultimately feed this system, so we're
sending in a team.  Even without water in The Drain, they have to
be on supplied air..." The T.V. cut to firemen donning air tanks,
"...and we really can only rely on that forecast until early
afternoon.  By late afternoon, thunderstorms can develop quickly
over any one of these valleys, and it IS the August flash season."

"I don't want to get caught by Mr. Edison.  Makes me think twice
about getting caught by the police at all.  Searching The Drain
should take them most of the day," I suggested.

"Yeah, but you know they have teams searching the sewer right now
too." Steve replied.

"That's another thing, Steve.  That's exactly why we shouldn't try
to get into the sewer now, at least not around here." I added, "I
don't want to get caught by the police."

"They're not all corrupt, and the news is all over this story."
Steve replied.

"I've got a plan.  If we've been in the sewer since Wednesday
night, how far do you think we could walk around "lost" in 3 days,
4 tomorrow?" I asked.

"Four or five miles a day, but most likely less," Steve replied.

"Let's say 10 miles.  Shit, that's almost all the way downtown" I
said.

"What's your plan?" Steve asked.

"Let's stay here, take a cab tomorrow away from where they're
searching now, and climb into the sewer a couple miles away." I
said.

"It's a good idea.  But we need to lay low.  We can't even go to
the pool, got that?"

"I don't want to go to the pool." I said.  He knew exactly what I
meant.

"Oh yeah ...," coming into my face, still nude, his cock swinging,
"...and what do you want to do?" he said with a smile.

I stared at him, building a smile, his smile growing too, waiting
for my response.

"Dance number 4 ... in its entirety ... for REAL this time."