Date: Sat, 28 Oct 2000 19:44:04 EDT
From: VicHowel@aol.com
Subject: Growing Up Sexual - chapter XXXVII

Growing Up Sexual

Another fortnight gone already!!!  It's definitely feeling like autumn
outside and the damned leaves have already covered the grass (that means
I've got to convince myself to rake soon - shit!!!)  Oh, well, it feels
good visiting Soul GA again and finding out what those randy lads have got
themselves into this time.  At least, I'll be able to gain a couple of days
reprieve from raking ... <G>

In the darkest night, I sometimes find myself wondering if anyone is
reading these final chapters of GUS - so few of you write any more.  But,
just when I begin to get discouraged, a new friend appears in my e-mail box
- and not just English-speakers either.  'Lo, Peter, es freut mich, Ihnen
zu treffen.  Bitte, geniessen Ihnen meiner Werk.  You too, Cuz, DarkBan,
Vinny, Chad, and Richard.  You make it all worthwhile.

As I've told so many of you individually over the last nearly a year,
writers need to be stroked.  It's an ego thing.  We work so alone - inside
our heads - it's difficult to be objective.  We arch our backs and purr
like a cat if you scratch our ears with just a kind word.  That's
especially so when the writer is letting you read his/her work free, as we
do here on Nifty.  Peter has stroked me quite well with his gentle,
intelligent questions and willingness to help an old man out with a word
that hasn't been used in more than 50 years.

Cuz, Richard,, DarkBan, Vinny, and Chad, I hope you join Peter and all the
others who read GUS in enjoying these remaining chapters as much as you
enjoyed the first 36.  Thanks to all of you for the ultimate stroke you can
give a writer - reading and enjoying my work.

If you are American and are 18, as you enjoy this story and the others on
Nifty, remember to vote.  Please.  Your vote is important.  As wooden as
Gore may be, he still offers a future that contains hope.  Bush only offers
a fantasy - a past that never was.  And he offers the legitimatization of
Pat Robertson's pseudo-morality where queers won't exist.  It is your
future that is at stake this November - your future and your country's.
The world can forge new links that ignore a Robertson-ized America and
never look back at one more failed and discarded society (there have been
so many throughout history); America can't survive without the world. Vote!
And get just one more person to join you!  Tomorrow can belong to you - or
you won't be in it.  Those are your choices - your only choices.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Chapter 37


Julian's back pressed against the headboard, his hand slowly stroking his
dick and his gaze on Ronnie.  A smile played across his lips.

Ronnie Varnadore took a deep breath and pushed his boxers over his hips.
They fell to the floor and, stepping out of them, he started towards the
bed and Julian.  Clyde's hand cupped his fanny as he climbed onto the bed,
his long fingers reaching between Ronnie's legs and touching his balls.
Ronnie wiggled his butt against the man's hand automatically as he reached
Julian, his hand forming a fist around the other boy's pole and pulling his
skin down along the shaft.  Pre-cum glistened in the piss-slit.

"Suck it," Julian told him, pointing his dick towards the descending face.

Ronnie felt the bed give behind him as Clyde climbed between his legs. His
face moved closer to Julian's crotch and he opened his mouth.

A hot, steely-hard but smooth wedge of meat slipped past his lips and
quickly touched the entrance to his throat.  Behind him, he felt Clyde's
dick find his hole and start to press against it.  He pushed down, making
his butt open for the slab of meat beginning to enter him.


He'd been standing in the pool with Vic, Joe, and Lindy - trying to keep
his dick down as he watched Julian get down on his hands and knees.
Broughton Bennett sank to his knees behind him and brought his dick to
Julian's hole.

Ronnie had heard that Julian was queer.  That he'd gone all the way with
Danny.  He was seeing it now, as Broughton pushed that big-assed dick into
the boy.  Ronnie's dick was so hard it hurt.  He was a newly minted 16 year
old with a driver's license and his own jalopy.  And he was a virgin.

He watched as one and then another boy climbed out of the pool and
approached Broughton and Danny.  The first one moved in front of Julian and
Ronnie watched spellbound as the queer pushed himself up on his hands to
take the boy's dick in his mouth.  While Broughton was butt-fucking him.
And the boy was hard with that big-assed dick pushing in and out of him!

He hadn't even realized it when he climbed out of the pool and walked up to
where Julian was servicing anybody who wanted any, his hard dick leading
the way.


He arched his back as the head of Clyde's wide-bodied dick passed over his
joy spot and continued to sink into him.  He dove down the length of
Julian's pole.  His throat opened up and he was taking it all before Clyde
bottomed out in his butt.  His own rod was hard against his belly, oozing
pre-cum into his bellybutton.

He felt Clyde's thatch press hard against the valleys of his crack and his
balls rest against his own.  Clyde's fingers traveled over his hip and
curled around his dickshaft.  Ronnie ground his buttcheeks against the
man's pubes, relishing the feel of the man buried inside him.

They settled into the fuck then.  Clyde set the rhythm with his possession
of Ronnie's butt.  His hand on Ronnie's shaft moved in synchronization with
his dick in his guts.  Ronnie's lips moved up and down Julian's pole at the
same pace.


He couldn't believe it.  He'd had his first piece of tail.  It was a boy's
butt, but it was still tail.  He wasn't a virgin any more.  And he was
pretty sure there wasn't a boy on the football team who could say that and
mean it.  Only, he couldn't tell anybody.

Sure, the boys who went out to Auntie Clyde's knew it.  They knew Julian
Head was queer, and that he'd let a boy butt-fuck him.  But nobody could
tell - not outside of Clyde's group of boys.

Ronnie Varnadore had fooled around a few times after he'd learned that his
dick had more than one use.  He'd showed his and looked at others.  He and
the Weeks boys had jerked off together.  And he'd wondered what a pair of
lips on his pole would feel like.  When he'd been invited out to Clyde's,
he'd accepted the invitation.  It was a pool.  It was a place to go and be
away from grown-ups sticking their noses in his business.  And if he could
get a blowjob off of somebody ...?  That was all the better.

He didn't have any remorse about fucking Julian.  None of them did.

They couldn't get enough of Julian - none of the boys who hung around at
Clyde's could.  Only, Ronnie started to realize that the queer stayed loose
down there.  He could hardly feel anything when he was butt-fucking him.
Besides, everybody was doing him.  Everybody at Clyde's - at least 8 or 10
of them.

That's when Vic Howell agreed to turn his butt up for the reaming.  He knew
the kid had been playing with Broughton.  But ... God, what a tight ass!
And so damned available.  And his alone.  He should have known - if
something could screw up, it would.

He'd been in on teaching that preacher's kid not to play with Broughton's
little brother's head.  He'd dicked that stuck-up Joe Phillips and he still
hadn't seen it coming.  He'd fallen in love with the little queer.  Maybe
not love - but it sure had been something more than just fucking his tight
ass.  He'd even sucked the queer off a couple of times.

But that party that Richard Lee threw at Thanksgiving - he'd fucked that
slut Glenda Faye, like everybody had.  Even Julian Head after taking the
whole town was tighter than that girl.  He'd gone to find Vic after he'd
shot a wad into her.  To tell him that ... Well - he was thinking maybe
they ought to carry their relationship to a higher level.  He'd known after
Glenda Faye that his dick was never going to be happy in a pussy.  He'd
been thinking that he'd let Vic Howell cornhole now and then, to make it
more of an even thing between them.

He'd been thinking that until he looked into the shower off the pool and
saw Vic bent over in front of Broughton taking that thing of his up his
butt.

The boy he'd been willing to be queer for was as big a slut as that girl
inside.  It'd been enough to send him reeling.


Clyde was banging him hard and fast, pushing him faster into that delicious
mindlessness that was a good fuck.  Ronnie became aware of the soft, wet
sounds of the man's tool sliding in and out of him.  Julian was moaning
and, from the feel of his dick swelling, he was close to blowing his
load. Ronnie swallowed as he'd learned to do over the winter, his throat
muscles contracting around the other boy's dickhead and milking it.  Julian
started bucking and slamming his crotch up into his face.

Ronnie's whole body was into their sex now.  His butt and dick felt like
they were going to explode.  He wanted Julian's load, the taste of it.  And
he wanted it now.  He shoved his butt back on Clyde's pole and ground
against his pubes.  He didn't think he could hold it any longer.  His whole
body was almost in pain as it reached higher for release.


He'd been mad at Vic that night, for betraying him.  He'd still been mad a
couple of days later when he'd seen Joe Phillips downtown and offered him a
ride.  And he was mad at himself for wanting to swallow the preacher's
boy's hard dick as he slid his own pole into the kid's willing butt.

That had scared him even as he pumped the boy's butt.  Him wanting dick.
Wanting to suck it.  Wanting to do even more than suck it.  And football
had always taught him to externalize his fear.  Make it into anger and get
out into the open.  He'd fucked like he would take out the opposing team's
tackle.  Hard.  Fast.  Slamming into him.

He'd still been mad at Vic when he pulled out of the preacher's kid.  He'd
watched Joe finish himself off and wanted the kid's dick down his throat.
He stood up and began to pull his clothes back on.  And he'd told Joe
Phillips he was as good a fuck as Vic Howell.

Even as he said the words, he'd known he was crossing the line.  He'd
committed himself - every boy who went out to Clyde's had.  And he knew
what that would bring if Clyde ever found out - he'd been there when the
preacher's kid got his for messing with that Bennett boy, Broughton's
little brother.  He was scared of that.

It was a delicious fear.

But it was one that had led to an even greater fear by the time he'd driven
the kid back to town.  He had a bigger problem - he was getting too close
to being queer himself.  Like Vic and Julian and this preacher's kid.  His
daddy would kill him if he ever found out that Ronnie had sucked Vic's
dick.  He'd be skinned alive if the old man ever found out how his boy was
thinking about dick.

He had to get over all the queer thoughts he'd started having.  And the
only way he knew to do that was to put his dick into real pussy.  Let it
wash all that queer shit out of him.  After he'd dropped Joe off, he'd
driven down to the movie theater.  The only girl he knew who put out was
Glenda Faye Woods and that was where she worked.

He'd headed home for dinner that evening with a date with the biggest slut
in Soul.  Only, he hadn't been able to get the pictures of Henry's and
Jimmy's dicks out of his head.  He'd beat his meat to imagining what they'd
feel like in his mouth and butt.

He'd fucked Glenda Faye the next day after school.  Only, he was imagining
Vic's dick in his butt as he pushed his meat into the girl's pussy.  And
Vic's tail was sure a lot tighter than her 'tang.

As he was licked her tit after blowing his load in her, he told her Vic was
as big a slut as she was.  It hadn't been in those words and he hadn't
really been thinking, but he'd told her about Vic.


The pressure in his crotch was almost painful.  It kept expanding as Clyde
kept humping him - short, hard strokes now.  The fist sliding up and down
his dick felt like a million needles.  Ronnie Varnadore arched his back and
raised his head.  Julian's meat pulled out of his mouth.

The near pain increased.  The pressure inside him increased.
Everywhere. Crashing through him. Possessing him.  Ronnie Varnadore
couldn't hold back any more.  Every muscle in his body tightened, drawing
up within itself.  He blew.

Clyde's big-assed dick shoved into his clenching fuckchute. And expanded.
And began to pulse in time with his own orgasm.  Ronnie collapsed against
Julian's inner thigh, his lips on the other boy's shaft.  Clyde leaned into
him, his face resting between Ronnie's shoulder blades and his dick still
throbbing inside him.

"Looks like it's sloppy seconds for me," Julian grumbled above him.

Ronnie groaned as Julian pushed himself into a sitting position and then
raised his leg over his head.

"Pull out and move over, lover," Julian told Clyde.  The man grumbled about
being comfortable and not wanting to move.  But he moved, and Ronnie felt
empty.


He'd seen what was coming almost as soon as he got into the Impala with
Henry and Jimmy.  It both frightened him and excited him.  He was hard as a
rock when the car pulled up to Clyde's house.  He'd begged.  He'd even
threatened to beat the hell out of both of them.  But he knew that he
wanted what would happen the moment he was in the house.

And it had somehow satisfied him even more that he was being forced to do
whatever they were going to do to him.

The sex had been anti-climatic.  He hadn't struggled, and Clyde had spent a
lot of time stretching him while he was bobbing on Jimmy's weiner.  When
Clyde decided he was ready, Henry had slipped into his virgin chute.  It
had been as good as he'd suspected it would.  He'd been moaning and
groaning like Vic and Julian did - just another queer getting laid.  And he
hadn't got enough at Clyde's.  The twins had given him another dose of
Weeks power on the way back into town.

He was hooked.  He could never get enough.  All through the winter, it was
him and the Weeks boys every time they could get time alone.  Dick in his
butt and dick in his mouth.  The twins knew how to make him feel good.

Only, somehow, that went out the window as they got into spring.  The boys
grew tired of him or something.  One or the other of them begged out of
their fuck sessions.  That had started up after the first time he'd gone
out to Clyde's after his punishment.  Then the Weekses were both seeing Vic
Howell, and it didn't take a rocket scientist for Ronnie to figure he'd
lost his regular fuck buddies.

He'd got it on with the Bennett boys a couple of times, but that was so
irregular that he might as well not be getting any at all.  He knew he
could let it get around to the other guys who went out to Clyde's.  Only,
that would label him completely.  If he did that, he might as well just
offer it up at poolside when Clyde opened the pool up.  He'd be just as
exposed.  So, he'd been forced to turn to Clyde and Julian for relief.
Like he was doing now.


Julian shoved his hips forward and his dick pushed into Ronnie's hole
easily.  Ronnie pressed his face against the rumpled sheets and gave
himself up to the hard, quick ride he knew the other boy was going to give
him.  He ignored his own hard dick that bounced across his belly.


* * *


Ronnie's butthole was as stretched as it'd ever been since that first time
as he stopped at the end of the drive before pulling out onto the roadway.
Normally, he liked that feeling and the sense of jizz seeping out of him.
But his mind was on Julian Head and how he'd come to be in Auntie Clyde's
bed.

"I don't want to be queer," he mumbled to himself as he entered the city
limits.  "I don't want every boy in Soul lining up for a shot at his butt.
I don't want to be like Julian!"

Shame seemed to spring up inside him, full-grown.  He could see his father
yelling at him and his mother crying.  He could hear the comments the kids
in school would make once they knew.  Only, there wouldn't be any Clyde Lee
waiting there to pick him up like he had Julian.  Ronnie Varnadore would be
all alone.  Hell!  He'd probably get raped by the whole team right there in
the locker room.  Or beaten up.

"I don't want to be queer!" he growled to the night as he entered the
middle of Soul and started out the Douglas Road towards his house.

He passed the holyroller church like he did every time he came home.  The
Church Of The Everlasting Arms Of God.  Sure! He snorted derisively.

This time, for the first time, he read the marquee outside the little
cinder block building.  "Through God, All Things Are Possible," it read.  A
sign just past the marquee read: "Save yourself, revival in progress."

The words were still running through Ronnie Varnadore's mind as he turned
into the driveway of his home.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

I've had a partial computer failure about a fortnight ago (okay, I fucked
something up) ... Anyway, if you've been buying Herbalife at discount from
me, please contact me - your names, addresses, etc. are what I screwed up
(not you Sib - I've got you).