Date: Sun, 09 Sep 2012 15:46:00 +0400
From: Doctor Fox
Subject: Mayday with Pavel Part Three

Mayday with Pavel Part Three
A story by Doctor Fox

We lay together for about half an hour, me and the two thirteen year old
Russian boys who had come to my flat and engaged me in wild sex for most of
the morning. Max, the gap-toothed, skinny boy with the black spiky hair was
the first to stir.

'I'm hungry,' he announced.

'OK,' I said, 'Let's get some lunch.'

We all slid off the bed and grabbed our underwear, except for Max who
didn't have any. Instead he pulled on his cheap grey trousers. Normally he
fastened the fly with a safety pin, but now he didn't. I suppose he thought
someone, some time, would be wanting to put their hand into that warm,
inviting cave. Pasha slipped on his vest. It wasn't quite long enough to
reach the waist of his pale brown briefs, exposing an inch or so of his
flat, pale stomach and his perfectly rounded navel.

'Sandwiches OK?' I asked, and, when they said yes, made four cheese and
pate sandwiches for each of us and brewed three mugs of tea. Pasha liked
his black and strong.

'Like your men?' I suggested.

Max liked his weak and sweet.

'Again,' I started.

'We're not gay,' said Pasha emphatically.

'No, 'course you're not,' I said. 'You suck cock and swallow sperm like all
the other straight boys do.'

'Bollocks to you, Fox,' said Pasha, stuffing a sandwich into his mouth.

I laughed and slurped some tea. We chatted about football and the latest
movies and Max talked about his life, how he had been abandoned by his
father aged six, and his mother had struggled to look after him because she
was old and sick, how they lived in a damp hut near the river, how he had
decided to trade sex for money when he was ten after a businessman had
propositioned him in the park.

'I didn't want to do it,' Max said. 'He was very hairy, very sweaty and a
bit smelly, but he gave me a hundred roubles.'

'How many do you do a day, Max ' I asked.

'Four or five,' he said. 'Usually the same men. Weekends and holidays might
be more, say seven or eight. I go to the parks, First of May, 40th
Anniversary, 30th Anniversary. They're sometimes blokes out walking, and
sometimes with their families, wives, kids, girlfriends, disappear 'for a
piss' and get a blowjob instead. I can make 'em cum in a few minutes if I
want.' He seemed to swell with pride.

I asked him if he went to school. He said he did, sometimes, but other boys
teased him. Everyone, it seemed, knew what he did.

He ate another sandwich, then picked at a chocolate Hob-Nob. I rinsed the
plates under a tap, then we all had a cigarette. I looked ruefully at the
packet. It was almost empty.

'I'll go,' said Max eagerly.

I wondered if the boy who looked about twelve would get served. Pasha
scoffed and told me 'This is Russia.'

I gave Max a fifty rouble note. 'Get two packs,' I said. 'Marlborough Red.'

'And some beer,' added Pasha. 'We've run out of beer. Get more beer.'

'Not 9,' I said. 'It's too thick. Get Baltika 3, or Volzhsky, if you can.'

He crammed his dirty feet into his filthier shoes, slipped into his shirt
and took off leaving me and Pasha alone.

'He's a livewire,' I said.

'Yeah.' Pasha seemed surprised. 'He's quite nice actually.'

'You won't tease him any more, will you?' I said.

Pasha grinned. 'Course I will, but it'll be different now.'

'But you wouldn't want your class-mates knowing about you,' I said.

'I do it for fun,' said Pasha sanctimoniously. 'He does it for money. That
makes him a whore.'

'If you tease him,' I said seriously, 'I won't see you again.'

Pasha grunted. 'OK, OK,' he said. 'Keep your hair on. Let's have a drink.'
He went to the fridge for the vodka and poured two large shots. 'Health,'
he toasted. We clinked glasses and downed the shot. The alcohol fired my
belly. 'You wanna see if we can see Max from the balcony?' he asked,
pouring another shot.

Although I wasn't too keen in case anyone saw us, me in my boxers and a
T-shirt, the boy in his vest and briefs, I agreed. It was a good idea. The
sun warmed us gently as we sat together and drank another toast. We could
see Max at the kiosk loading beer bottles into a pink-and-white striped
carrier bag.

'Max!' Pasha shouted. 'Hey, Max!'

'Ssshhh,' I said, 'He'll hear you.'

Too late. He looked up, grinning, and waved. Pasha waved back.

'You wanna watch some TV?' I asked. 'Harry Potter or something?'

'You don't your neighbours to see me,' said Pasha mischievously.

'Not really,' I said.

'You ashamed or something?' he grinned slyly. 'You should be, you dirty old
man.'

'I haven't heard you complain so far,' I said grumpily, 'But if you want
out, just go.' I went back into the flat.

'Aw,' said Pasha, following me and catching my elbow, 'Don't be like that,
Fox. I'm only joking. Put Harry Potter on. Chill. Have another drink.'

A third vodka. Pasha went through the Russian ritual of sniffing the back
of his hand, gulping back the shot, breathing out the fumes in a harsh,
noisy rush then sniffing his smooth, hairless armpit. I put Harry Potter
and the Sorcerer's Stone in the video player. Max returned and piled the
beer bottles onto the carpet, uncapping three Volzhskys. Then we smoked
again. I sat in the armchair. Pasha sat on the floor at my feet with his
back resting against my legs. Max sat at the other side, his head resting
against my thigh. I put my hand on his shoulder, my other on Pasha's, and
watched the film, or the first hour or so.

'What's the time?' asked Max.

'Quarter past four,' I said.

He looked mournful when he said he had to go soon, around five.

'What about you, Pashka?'

'I'm good till about seven or eight,' he said.

'You wanna do something first?' I said hopefully, stroking Max's black
hair.

'Sure,' he said, undoing his trousers. I felt my cock stirring again as Max
slid his hand up my thigh and into my boxers, curling his fingers round my
balls. Pasha shifted sideways, still watching the film, as Max clambered up
into my lap, discarded his shirt, lifted mine over my head, tossed it away
and rubbed his bare chest against mine. He squirmed, naked, against my
groin and body, and twisted himself so he could straddle me. His cock was
hard and I started rubbing it gently. He sighed and kissed my lips, then
gazed into my eyes. I rocked forward a little and took his lower lip
between my teeth. He uttered a soft sound and massaged my cock.

We moved to the bed, me losing my boxers on the way and letting my hard-on
spring up, joyous at his release from confinement. We sighed as we fell
together on the mattress.

Pasha went out. 'Back in a minute,' he said. 'Start without me.'

We did not need telling twice. We stroked and sucked each other, feeling
organs swelling, growing harder as passion rose and blood raced, as hands
strayed and tongues played. I rolled Max on to his back and sat astride
him, rubbing my arse-crack against his cock.

'How about a fuck?' I muttered into his ear.

'I never done that,' he said hoarsely, 'But if you want to...'

I smiled lazily and gripped his stiff cock in my right hand. I positioned
the tip against my hole, using my left hand to pull it open, then eased
myself down slowly. Max moaned. I shifted a little and pushed down again,
relaxing my muscles, pressing them down so I could feed him into me, inch
by inch, grunting softly as I felt his iron penetrate my rectum. I eased
down again, until he was fully inside and I was sitting on his groin, my
balls resting on his stomach. His eyes were closed as I began to move,
clenching my arse-cheeks, up and down, slowly, up, then down, feeling the
boy's four inch cock beginning to drive itself as his hips lifted off the
mattress and bucked a couple of times.

'Woah,' said Pasha from the door.

I reached out a hand to him. He shucked off his vest and pants and came
forward, cock springing eagerly towards me. I grabbed him and tugged at his
length. Max was pushing up, his whole body jerking, stabbing me, impaling
me. I squeezed his thighs between mine to slow him down. Now Max reached
for Pasha's dick and put it in his mouth. Pasha slugged some vodka, and
started thrusting. He spat into his hand, took my cock and masturbated me
wildly. So there we were, Max lying on his back, fucking me and sucking
Pasha, Pasha wanking me and me now fingering Pasha's arse, pushing my
fingertip inside his little pink bud.

Max groaned and I felt spasms inside my arse as he shot his load. He rolled
his head on the pillow and Pasha's cock slipped out. It glistened wet with
pre-cum and Max's saliva. My finger pushed further into Pasha's rectum but
he twisted away as Max pulled back his hips and slammed his cock up into me
again in a final, desperate thrust.

'Ohhhhh,' he cried, his head thrashing, his fingers digging into my thighs,
and he came again, more semen flowing inside me, and again, and again, all
the while crying out and tossing his head. I clenched my arse-cheeks
tightly, squeezing him. He cried out 'Jesus' and spurted again, his whole
body shaking as the most powerful orgasm of his life gripped him, ripped
him and shattered his being.

Pasha looked on, awe-struck. 'My God,' he muttered. 'I want some of that.'

Slowly I lifted myself away from the boy. His cock plopped out, followed by
a flow of semen that covered the sheet. Max seemed stunned. His cock was
subsiding. It was sticky with my juices and his own cum.

Pasha, eyes wild and blazing, got onto the bed behind me and pushed my head
down. Max shifted slightly but I had my forehead on his chest, his cock
digging into my stomach. I felt Pasha raise my hips, and then his hard
penis searching for the entrance, eager, questing, desperate.

'Slow, Pashka, slow,' I muttered, and winced as he drove his tip into my
arse. Lubricated with Max's cum, he managed to slip it in without very much
resistance. My arsehole ached a little, and my prostate felt full to
bursting, but hey, it was a holiday, and I was getting fucked by two lovely
thirteen year olds.

Pasha rode me well, driving his cock up inside me, hitting the prostate
again and again, making me squeal and groan as ecstasy swelled through my
system. His penis felt like a bar of iron. He held my hips and I bucked
back against him, feeling his eggs bounce against my arse-cheeks. He
groaned, and I felt him strain, felt his whole groin against me as he
forced himself as far as could possibly go. His tip was squeezing my
prostate. I felt my semen rising.

Now Max recovered a little, and started wanking my rock-hard tool, strongly
and quickly.

Pasha groaned and slammed his cock further in, straining again. My prostate
was bursting.He drove in again. I felt drops of sweat fall onto my
back. Then a low rolling moan flowed from deep in his chest.

'Unnhhhhh,' I heard. 'Unnnnnnhhhh.'

He stopped for a split second, then gripping my hips, cried aloud
'Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh'. I squeezed my sphincter muscles and felt his cock jerk
and jerk again, pulse and pulse again, and then pump its load of boy-sperm
into my rectum. Pasha's whole body shook as he cried out again,
'Ohhhhhhh'. I felt him coming, felt him deposit his spunk in me as he
pressed his groin against my buttocks, pushing in as far as he could
possibly go. Max jerked his fist down suddenly, very hard, slamming my
foreskin, and I ejaculated three ribbons of sperm right across his chest
and on to his chin. Some splattered on his fingers, some on the
bedsheet. It was spraying like a fountain, out of control, twitching and
shooting. I yelled 'Oh yes, fuck yes!' My muscles contracted on Pasha's
cock, which pressed my prostate and made me spurt again. My legs trembled,
my feet tingled, everything, every sensation, every nerve-ending joined
together in a symphony of orgasm, of pure, endless, earth-shattering
orgasm. More sperm. Pasha came again.

'I can't do any more ' he moaned. 'My eggs are empty.' But his cock jerked
again, twice. Dry this time.

'Fucking hell,' gasped Max, smearing my cum into his skin. 'Fucking hell.'
He rolled off the bed. 'Gotta wash,' he gasped. He could hardly stand up,
let alone walk to the bathroom.

Pasha pulled his cock out and collapsed heavily on to my back. I heard him
panting in my ear.

'Oh, Fox,' he gasped. 'Fox. I'm fucked.' He kissed me behind my ear.

I rolled over so he was lying on my front. His cock was sticky with juice,
with his cum, with Max's cum, with my cum, and a little stained from my
inner juices. I kissed his mouth.

'You are amazing,' I said, gazing into his sea-green eyes, 'Absolutely
amazing.'

His breathing slowed and I shifted him over.

'Gonna check on Max,' I said. Pasha stared at the ceiling, then reached for
a cigarette and his beer bottle.

Max was showering. I watched his thin body gyrate under the warm water and
noticed how prominent his ribs were, as though carved from marble, how thin
his buttocks were, how small his feet were. I wiped their sperm from my
arse-cheeks with some toilet paper which I dropped into the bowl. Then I
pissed.

'That was fucking awesome,' he gasped, turning towards me. His erection had
not quite subsided. It stuck from his body at a right angle.

'Yeah,' I said. 'You OK?'

'Gonna sleep like a baby tonight,' he grinned.

I chucked him a towel and went back to the bedroom. Pasha was still lying
on his back smoking. He looked thoughtful, pre-occupied. His cock was still
semi-erect.

'Penny for them?' I said.

He turned his head slightly. 'You like me, don't you, Fox?'

'Yes. I like you.'

'Do you love me?'

I laughed and sat on the bed next to him. 'I'm starting to.'

'I gotta go back to school tomorrow,' he said mournfully. 'I won't be able
to see you for ages.'

'Weekends?' I suggested. I took his hand in mine. 'You can come over at
weekends.'

He gave me his dying cigarette. I finished it and stubbed it out in the
ash-tray.

Max came in, dressed, his hair wet. He seemed awkward again,
ill-at-ease. 'I've got to go,' he said. 'It's nearly five and I'm really
late.'

'OK,' I said. 'Thanks, Max, for everything.' I walked him to the front
door.

Impulsively he threw his arm round my neck and kissed my cheek. 'Thank you,
Fox,' he said, and was gone. I heard the elevator whirring, and returned to
Pasha, who had fallen asleep.

He had said he had to go around eight. It was now five. I didn't want to
disturb him. I gazed on his slim, hairless body, on his soft lashes and
soft blond hair, on his beautiful cock, resting now on his little eggs in
their tight little bag, the barely visible peachy fuzz of his early
sprouting pubic hair and wondered about the twist of Fate, the stroke of
Luck, the Wheel of Fortune that had brought us together over this two-day
May Day holiday. What a boy he was.

I slipped into my somewhat cum-stained boxers and pottered round the flat,
tidying bottles and emptying ash trays. I fixed myself a sandwich and sat
in the kitchen. I reflected that I hadn't got dressed at all today.

Pasha slept for about half an hour then joined me for another sandwich and
a bag of crisps. He had put on his pale brown briefs, which also bore
traces of semen, but not his vest. We didn't say much. His round face was
serious, almost solemn.

'So that's what it's like to fuck someone,' he said eventually.

'Yeah.'

'And that's what it's like to be gay.'

'I guess.'

'You like sperm.'

'Yeah.'

He chewed on the sandwich then looked me directly in the eyes. 'Did it hurt
when I fucked you?'

I smiled. 'Not really. It hurts at first, when you're going in, but when
you're in it just feels so great, like you're complete, and you never want
them to come out.'

He grew thoughtful again, took another bite.

'It was nice,' he said, 'I liked doing it.'

'You were very good,' I replied, 'Especially for a first-timer.'

He smiled, then grew serious again. 'Do you want to fuck me?' he whispered.

'Yes,' I admitted, 'I do.'

'Well,' he said slowly and huskily, 'If you're really gentle, I'll let you
fuck me before I go home.'

Oh God. My heart jumped for joy. He had just promised me his arse. I
suddenly loved him.

'Another beer?' I said.

'Let's finish the vodka,' he said. There was about a quarter of a bottle
left, two or three shots.  'To us,' he toasted, 'Pasha and Fox.'

I clinked his glass. 'That's a good toast, my darling. Pasha and Fox.'

He gazed at me again, then said, in his heavily accented English, 'Fox, I
love you.'

'I love you too, my Pashka,' I answered, also in English.

'I need a bath,'' he said. 'I stink like a goat.'

'Me too,' I said.

'Let's go together,' he suggested,'Two in one tub. It'll be more fun, and
you can wash my back.'

Damn you, Pavel, I thought. You're getting me hard again.

We went in the bathroom and I turned on the tap to let the water run to hot
when Pasha announced he was going for a piss.

'Wait,' I said. 'You promised you'd piss on me.'

'It was a joke,' said the boy.

I dropped my shorts and got into the bathtub. 'Please.'

He blew air out of his lips and half-shrugged 'what the hell', took out his
penis and directed a clear jet of urine onto my chest and stomach. It
splashed warmly onto my skin. 'On my cock!' I cried. 'Piss on my cock.'

He did, then took my request as a general direction to shower me with his
urine, over my face and into my mouth, the salty liquid spraying on to my
tongue and spilling down my chin. I had never been pissed on before. I was
disappointed when the arc turned to a trickle then stopped.

I ran a deep, hot bath, adding bubbles, and invited him to join me. He
grinned, washed his pants in the water, wrung them out and put them on the
toilet seat. Then he stepped over the edge and down into the tub.

'Ooh, it's hot,' he remarked.

'Like you,' I said.

We sat facing each other, soapy water reaching our nipples. I stretched out
my hand and daubed some foam on each of his, which made him grin. His feet
were resting against my balls, mine against his buttocks. He splashed some
bubbles playfully into my face. I pretended to splutter, which made him
grin again. I daubed his nose with soapsuds. He painted mine. I washed his
legs with a sponge, then moved him, turned him round so he was sitting
between my legs, his back leaning against my chest.

Gently I soaped his stomach, his arms, his nipples, his balls and his cock,
and felt it swelling again. I rolled back his foreskin and ran a flannel
round the head which was sticky with my rectum juice and his cum. I washed
it gently in the warm water, playing with his balls, sliding my hand down
his shaft, slicking his meat through my soapy grip, feeling it harden
again. Then I poured water over his head and rubbed shampoo into his soft,
corn-blond hair. Scooping up handfuls of water, I rinsed it, watching the
suds slide down his skin. This was getting me really hard now. He could
feel it rising against his lower back. Reaching round, he stroked me
gently, playing with the tip, rubbing it with his soapy finger and thumb,
smoothing the foreskin. I got him to kneel up so his buttocks cleared the
water, bent him over the taps and opened his arse-cheeks so I could see his
little pink bud. I swilled some soapy water round it, then ran my tongue
over it and up the crack, right to the top, in a great lapping movement. He
shivered. I did it again, then used my tongue to tease his hairless anus,
pushing the tip inside, probing, licking, then lapping again, as though at
an ice-cream. He uttered a soft, small sound and eased slowly back towards
me. I rimmed him for several minutes, savouring the sharp taste of
boy-sweat. Rimming boys is one of my greatest pleasures. Fab taste and no
hair.

I dabbed some shampoo onto my index finger and, standing up, inserted it
gently into his anus. He gasped, and bent over, gripping the taps. I pushed
my finger further inside him, exploring, using my second to open him up. I
could feel the slippery smoothness of his rectum wall. He pushed back
against my hand as I parted my fingers, opening his hole a little more. My
cock was achingly hard again as I soaped it. I also soaped my own arse,
just in case he wanted to reciprocate.

Gently, carefully, not wanting to hurt him, I pushed the very tip of my
cock inside his sphincter. He gasped and stiffened.

'Relax,' I whispered. 'Just relax. Open your arse and relax all your
muscles.'

He nodded and tightened his grip on the taps. I ran my finger down his
curved, arched spine, and pushed again. He shuddered and moaned but the tip
disappeared into him, burying itself up to the rim of the foreskin. I
rested for a moment to let him get used to this new feeling, then pushed in
another half-inch. I saw his grip tighten again, felt his body stiffen.

'Relax, baby, relax,' I murmured, and pushed again. I had got half my cock
inside him. Suddenly I felt the muscles give and I was able, in that
moment, to slip all the way up him. He uttered a loud noise. 'OK, baby?' I
murmured, stroking his wet hair. He nodded, but he was biting his lip. I
withdrew slightly, then thrust again, withdrew slightly, thrust again,
rocking against him. As I did so, he sighed.

'Oh,' came the noise, 'That feels soooo good.'

Encouraged, I began to move a little faster, go a little deeper. I hit his
prostate and he squealed. 'Ah! Yes. Again.'

Steadily I built a rhythm, rocking my cock inside the boy's rectum, banging
my tip against his gland, feeling him squirm, hearing him squeal, as he
began to drive backwards, pushing his buttocks against my groin to get my
full length fully inside him. I put one hand on his left hip, the other on
his cock. It had gone soft, but a few swift jerks revived it to full stiff
glory. Now he was beginning to moan. I was rocking again, fucking his arse
in the bath, and he was loving it. Every time I hit his prostate he moaned
ecstatically. His head started jerking and his legs were shaking as I drove
in again, penetrating his body so deeply my balls hit his perineum. I could
feel things pulsing in his penis too. My own was nearing explosion-point.

'Pash,' I gasped, 'I'm gonna cum in a second.'

'Me too,' he panted.

'No, in you. I'm gonna cum in you. Is it OK?'

'Yeah,' he gasped, 'Yeah, cum in me. Whatever, just don't stop fucking
me. Please. Keep on fucking me till you cum, and cum everything you got,
right up my arse.'

I jerked his cock, moved my hand from his hip to his head, twined my
fingers in his hair, bit my lip. He was going to let me cum in his
arse. What a kid. My hips were moving faster, my thrusting speeding up,
then I felt it, the semen rising through my cock. I twined my fingers more
tightly. Pasha cried out a little, then my whole body shook as my cock went
into several massive spasms and shot my load inside the boy's bowels. I
cried out as more burst from me, and more. My cock pulsed furiously against
the walls of his rectal muscles and anus. I jerked his cock faster and
faster, heard him moan again, felt his penis jump in my hand, felt his warm
semen spilling over my fingers, more and more.

'Jeez!' he cried, 'I thought I was empty.'

Our hearts were pounding, our breathing heavy, our gasping loud as I slowly
withdrew. He gripped the taps again and grunted as my six inch length left
his body, semen, a little blood and some rust-coloured shit-juice dribbling
down the back of his legs. I rinsed him, rinsed my cock, rinsed his cock,
then sat him down in the now tepid water.

'Oh my God,' was all he could say. 'Magic, Fox. Fucking magic. I felt
so...full, you know? Full. Full of you. And now I'm full of your spunk.'

I smiled. 'And I am full of yours,' I said.

Pasha grinned happily. 'That's great.'

As we dried each other on the bathmat, I felt Pasha's mood changing. He was
leaving soon. I too felt saddened, deflated. The holiday with Pavel was
almost at an end.

'We had a good time, eh?' I said.

'We had a fucking incredible time,' he answered, kissing me strongly on the
lips.

We sat cross-legged, naked, on my bed and shared another bottle of beer and
a cigarette. I stroked his knee and thigh.

'You're very beautiful, you know,' I told him, 'Very beautiful.'

'Thanks,' he said. He got up. 'I don't want to get dressed,' he added, 'But
school tomorrow.'

I watched him pull his tracksuit trousers on, sit on the edge of the
armchair and drag his socks over his feet, then wriggle into his vest and
sweater. It was weird seeing him clothed. I had got so used to his being
naked. I put my shorts and a T-shirt on.

We faced each other in the living room. Pasha looked wistfully at the bed
that had been the scene of so much fun, warmth, excitement, sensation and,
yes, love, then looked at me. His sea-green eyes were sad.

'Come here,' I said, and folded him in my arms. I held him for a long
minute, then let him go.

As he passed through the door and back into the real world, he
smiled. 'Thanks, Fox.'

'Will I see you again?' I said.

He shook his head. 'I don't think so. I'm sorry.'

I shut the door behind him. I felt depressed as I went to the kitchen to
make some tea. We had had a fantastic time, me, Pavel and Max, a really
special May Day holiday. I missed them.

It was only when I returned to the bedroom that I noticed he had stolen my
watch.


END