Date: Wed, 22 Jul 2015 23:47:20 -0700
From: Rick DeDikke <rickthedick@fastmail.fm>
Subject: PRETEEN-FUCKS-HIS-MALE-NANNY

PRETEEN-FUCKS-HIS-MALE-NANNY
by Rick the Dick
rickthedick@fastmail.fm
-----------------

Skip ahead to part VII if you just want the fucking. He's 11 (almost
12), black-haired, pale skin, lightly-freckled with big brown eyes,
firm stomach and ass, and a decent-sized cock. He fucks his male
nanny regularly and aggressively, which for him in his Latino culture
is just a better alternative to jacking off.

Otherwise, the back story explains how it got to there, and why the
nanny struggles to hide his erections so the boy won't think he's gay
and actually likes it.

------------


I. GOODBYE CAMP


       Andres and I had known each other over several summers at camp
where I was a counselor and he was a camper. He wasn't in my cabin,
but was very close to me because he was extremely affectionate and I
was one of the few counselors who let him sit in my lap or hold hands
(his favorite).

	I loved it, of course, but especially because he was really cute,
and had a really hot body even though he was only 11. He was from
Latin America and very much "Latin" -- Spanish and Italian descent --
with pale skin, light freckles across his small nose, and BIG brown
eyes ringed with very thick, black eyelashes almost like he was
wearing mascara. His thick black hair, full red lips, and especially
his big bubble butt really stood out too. Wow, that ass. It was a true
bubble butt, not fat, just pronounced and jutting out pretty hard and
muscular. I knew because I felt it whenever I could, during our
frequent hugs and his constant pressing into me. He either didn't
notice or care that I usually planted my hand there. It was just part
of the sensual experience to him I think, or maybe a cultural thing
that grabbing his ass was okay.

       The rest of his body was hot as hell too. His shoulders weren't
yet broad, but his arms were kind of thick and powerful, and his torso
had decently-defined pecs and a firm stomach. He was a lucky boy with
a really hot package all around that I absolutely loved watching grow
older and hotter over those summers at camp.

	The last day of camp that year, his father and stepmother came to
pick him up. We were talking about how much Andres liked me, then
conversation turned to what I was doing after camp now that I had
graduated college. I said I wasn't sure because I didn't have a job
lined up, and right then he offered me a job with them as a nanny.
Andres was an only child, so it seemed like a really easy job just
hanging out and maybe cuddling this really hot 11 year old after
school? How could I say no? I also knew some Spanish from college
classes and I thought it would be a great adventure spending some time
in another country. I immediately said yes.


II. HELLO LATIN AMERICA


	About a month later I was finally there. They lived in a REALLY
big and luxurious house in a gated community, with an elaborate pool
and back patio area. I think Andres' father was in the oil industry
but never really found out. They had several household staff, though I
was the only one who lived full time with them.

       It took a couple weeks to get settled and get used to the rapid-
speaking Spanish and all the idioms and slang they don't teach you in
Spanish class in college. With Andres I was supposed to talk in
English, but when his friends would come over to swim, which was
pretty much every day after school, they would all jabber in
colloquial Spanish. I always paid attention, trying to learn it all.


III. A BIZARRE CONVERSATION


       Just when I thought I was settling pretty nicely into my "job," I
was told The Boss wanted to talk to me, in his office. That was a part
of the house we "help" weren't supposed to go to, so I immediately
figured I had screwed up somewhere and was about to get fired. I was
nervous when he told me to sit down. I tried to be casual and asked
him in Spanish how is everything, probably a mistake in retrospect. My
talking in Spanish established that we'd continue the conversation in
Spanish, which I wasn't yet fluent in. It's the reason for the
subsequent terrible mix-up.

       There was small talk, then he looked out the window silently. I
got the feeling it was to make me sweat. Maybe it was the clear
boss/subordinate relationship, but I was nervous and intimidated. He
seemed a little embarrassed at what he had to say.

       "You know, I have seen you sometimes in the pool with the boys,"
he began. "You seem sometimes happy. Is that true?" --I think that's
what the word meant. Happy? Enthusiastic? Of course I was.

       "Yes," I replied, still a little nervous and not sure what this
was about.

       "I have a question for you, and if it is true please don't worry,
it does not matter to me and it will not affect your job." Uh-oh, I
thought. But I knew I had never done anything wrong as far as I knew,
so what could he accuse me of?

       He looked me dead in the eye as he spoke, almost like the subject
was taboo. "Are you an American?"

       Wait, what? "Umm, yes," I replied nervously. Why would he ask
that when he already knew? And why would it matter? Are Americans
hated here? Why does he even seem a little embarrassed to ask? I had
absolutely no idea now where this conversation was going.

       The Boss looked like the spark went out of his eyes. It was a
look of profound disappointment. All this because I'm American? He
tried to still look friendly but it was a forced smile. "Like I said,
no problem, I have no problem with it. Others might, but not me."

       Geez, well, okay. I had NO idea my nationality was a such a big
deal here. I'll have to be quiet about it I guess. Who knew?

       His speech got more direct and he seemed to warn me. "Andres is
not American. You must never be assertive with him. He is very
affectionate since he was a small child, but he is only assertive. In
our culture, this is how it is. An American can only be passive, never
assertive."

       What a bizarre statement. I can't be assertive with Andres?
Americans must be passive? I had no idea what he was saying, but it
seemed to be really important to him so I took it seriously and
nodded. "Of course," I said in Spanish ("Claro").

       "Okay, I don't want to hear any more about this. It is between
you and Andres." I nodded again. "Thank you, you can go."

       What the hell was that whole thing about? I regretted not
speaking in English, because what he seemed to say made no sense to
me. I waited until Andres got home from school to ask him what some of
the words actually meant. His English was better than my Spanish
anyway.

       "Andres, what does 'activo' and 'pasivo' mean in English?" I
asked him. This is what I assumed meant the assertive and passive
thing I was supposed to do with him.

       Andres blushed and giggled. He looked around to see if anyone
else could see us. "Activo," he said very quietly, "...is THIS." He stood
up, put his hands out and thrust his groin a handful of times while
giggling mischievously. "Pasivo," he paused a moment, thinking how to
describe it before bending forward a little to stick out his butt, "is
THIS." He slapped his butt and laughed.

       Oh come on, I thought, but I laughed with him. Was he joking with
me? Obviously his father wasn't talking about that. Maybe it can mean
that in some situations, but not in this one. I figured my previous
interpretation was probably correct.

       Then I asked Andres about another word his father had asked
about, which I thought meant happy or content. He giggled again and
put his finger over his crotch like a penis pointing down, then raised
it up with a funny sound effect. An erection? Andres was obviously
messing with me.  Why would his fath...

       OH GOD.

       I faked laughed and left to hurry to my room. I was mortified. I
immediately realized I had completely misunderstood that whole
conversation with his father. The thing he had asked about the pool
and if I was "happy" (erect!): yes, I had in fact boned up a few times
playing with Andres and his hot 11 and 12 year old half-naked friends,
but I always got out of the pool away from them to prevent anybody
from seeing me. Other than... his father... whose office overlooks the pool
area... oh shit. How stupid of me! Of course he could have seen me.
The horror was I had quickly told him YES, I WAS ERECT.

       Then that whole thing about asking if I was an American -- "un
American?" -- Jesus Christ, how did I mis-hear that? He was actually
asking if I was "un maricon," their slang word for homosexual. Sounds so
similar, but oh-so-different. AND I HAD TOLD HIM YES, I WAS. Oh shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

       My impulse was to run back to his office and tell him it was a
big funny misunderstanding. Although, yes, it also happened to be
true. I did get erect with those boys and I do happen to be a "queer."
But Jesus, that's not something a male nanny would ever admit to the
boy's father!

       Wait, though. He did say my being gay was no problem and wouldn't
affect my job. Hmmm, maybe he was really enlightened, I wondered?
Maybe I could just run with it and see where this goes? It was all
true, after all, and I had done nothing wrong.

       I still didn't fully understand the whole thing about being
"activo" and "pasivo," which in retrospect I can see he was referring
to their machismo sexual culture. At the time I figured he was telling
me not to fuck his son. I certainly had no plan to!


IV. A NEW UNDERSTANDING


        Nothing really changed over the next few days. Then one evening I
was sitting on the couch in the kids' ("our") lounge area, watching TV
when Andres walked up and plopped down in the side chair instead of
next to me, like he usually did. He looked a combination of sad, angry
and puzzled.

	"What's wrong?" I asked. He shrugged. Somehow I could sense
though that his father had told him about me. Shit.

	"Reeeeck," he finally said, "my father said you are a gay." He
looked up at me with a mixed expression of sadness, disgust, and
disappointment at seeing a hero deflated.

	I was still learning their "machismo" culture, but I did know
already that calling someone gay, especially to kids that age, was a
huge insult. Homosexuality just wasn't accepted. I had to think fast.
I didn't want him to view me disparagingly so I told him it's not
true.

	Shit, now I had to think fast. I couldn't call his father a
liar! Andres would tell him I denied it and I'd probably get fired, I
thought. I tried to explain some more. "Remember when I asked you what
'activo' and 'pasivo' meant? Your father and I were discussing it, and
I told him I was always 'pasivo' when I was younger," I explained.
"But I'm not gay."

	Andres looked more confused. "Oh," he shrugged after a moment,
then after another little pause he sort of smiled again and snuggled
back in to watch TV. Whew.

	My explanation did indeed satisfy him, but for a much different
reason, as I was soon to find out. I was still upset at his father for
telling him, though.


V. THE HUMPING


       A few days went by and it seemed like everything was back to
normal. It was Sunday which was supposed to be my day off, but other
than spending a couple hours at the market, I had nowhere else to go
and usually spent it at the house anyway. I also would try to sleep in
late, but usually Andres would hop in my bed early in the morning and
want to talk and snuggle. That morning was typical. He woke me up by
jumping under the covers and lying down face to face on our sides.

    	"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck" he cooed.

	"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" I mumbled, smiling with my eyes still
closed. I could feel him searching for my hands to interlock fingers
so I reached them up to make it easier.

	"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck" he cooed a little more quietly, in his "I
want something from you" voice.

	I opened my eyes. "What, Andres?"

	"Nothing." He grinned. Oh come on, let me sleep, I thought.
"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeck" he cooed again.

	"What!" He just smiled, blushing a little. I could tell he
wanted to ask me something. "What is it?" I asked again.

       Andres leaned in and wrapped his top arm around my back. He wants
to hug? Ok, I started to hug back. He pushed my arm off though and
tried to pull me in closer. He wants me closer? I couldn't figure it
out. Then he was pulling just my shoulder trying to get me on my
front. I obliged, but what did he want? He wants to wrestle?

       "Andres, what do you want?" I asked a little exasperated. He just
giggled as he flung the sheet back and hopped on my back. Not to ride
or wrestle, but to hump my ass which he did rapidly a few times before
I twisted him off. "Stop it," I said. He kept trying to push my torso
back down while humping my ass and waist, laughing louder the whole
time. "Andres, STOP!" I repeated.

       "Why?" he briefly paused, mocking sadness but still grinning
with wide, evil eyes.

       "Because! Just stop." I tried to push him off, but it seemed the
more I struggled, the more it excited him and he would clamp down
tighter. Then I tried laying still for a few moments, to let him hump
because I thought maybe he was just goofing around and would stop on
his own after a few moments. Instead, he got quiet and started
breathing and humping even harder. He was humping the top of my crack
though, which was uncomfortable in my lower back. "ANDRES! GET OFF!" I
tried bucking again.

       He stopped the humping motion, but was still propped up on his
hands with his groin pressed against me. "Why?" he repeated in that
fake sad tone. I waited for him to hop off on his own, but instead he
leaned down on top of me, his whole body lying on top of me, and I got
a tingly feeling that gave me the chills. We were both in just
underwear, and the warmth of his torso pressed against my back gave me
a surge of arousal. I lay motionless as he clasped his hands onto my
shoulders and leaned in close to my right ear. I could feel my cock
stiffen, which was embarrassing even though he couldn't see it,
because I knew I couldn't let him think I was gay.

       "Reeck, remember you tell me you are pasivo? So let me fuck you
now. I'll cum quick," he purred, then giggled. I was shocked. I had
three simultaneous thoughts: WHERE did he learn that slang? "Cum?"
(Probably at summer camp, I figured); my other thought was THAT is not
going to work -- no lube, and I kind of had to poop! But most of all:
NO! Jesus Christ, if his father found out after that whole lecture? He
could easily pay someone to make me disappear, if not kill me himself.
NO WAY could we do this!

       "ANDRES!..." I yelled, then I suddenly felt his hands pulling
down the back of my underwear as he kept giggling. "NO!" I reached
back, grabbing my waistband. We struggled for a few moments, him
yanking downward and me upward, and I thought it was about to rip! I
finally used my adult strength and a firmly worded "STOP" to buck him
off.

       This time he looked clearly pissed. "Why no?" he demanded
angrily. Why no? Really, Andres? What person doesn't know how
inappropriate this is? 11 years old or not. I was about to open my
mouth to explain it when I saw he was looking at my (must have been)
obvious erection in my underwear. I twisted back to hide it, so my ass
was facing more toward him, and he smacked my butt hard. Not
playfully, but angrily. He hopped off the bed as he put his fist into
the front of his underwear, squeezing his erection. I had the quick
thought I had never seen him hard before (seen him naked lots, just
not erect). And I STILL couldn't see his erection because of his
damned hand. He stomped toward the door, his back and bubble butt
facing me as he muttered "Why you saying no? You stupid... I know you
like it... stupid."

       With that he opened the door, huffed out of the room and slammed
the door shut.

       I was stunned. What just happened? Isn't that called attempted
rape? I kind of felt he was right though, and maybe I was being
stupid. I certainly would "like" it. And wow, he actually got erect
thinking about fucking me. I guess. I couldn't believe I rejected him.
Well, yea, there was his father and everything. So, I felt pretty glad
I did.

       First though, I needed to jack off. I came in about 30 seconds.


VI. A RE-UNDERSTANDING


	I showered, got ready and came downstairs. I made breakfast and
drove to the market to get some stuff. I didn't know where Andres was,
but it was my day off anyway.

       After I got back, I was told The Boss wanted to talk to me. Oh
shit. Oh -- wait, no, not oh shit. I didn't do anything wrong. Maybe
it's about something else?

	I went down to his office, and this time I made sure we spoke in
English. No more little misunderstandings (ha ha). He seemed annoyed
as well as a little embarrassed. I said hello and sat down. There was
a little small talk, then he got to the point.

       "This morning," he paused, trying to find the words, "my son
was really upset. Very upset." Uh-oh. This is about THAT. But I
still had no reason to fear, I thought. His SON was the one who
started it, and I stopped it.

       There was a pause, so I started to talk but he shushed me with a
gesture. "He told me what happened." I doubt he told the truth!

       I feigned surprise. "What did he say?" I wanted to know if he
said I hit him or something.

       "That's... it's not... it's nothing bad, don't worry. You are not
in trouble. It's just that... " He exhaled like he was frustrated.
Maybe frustrated trying to find the right words in English. Just that
what, though? Don't I get a chance to defend myself against whatever
he said? I was going to bring that up but decided to hear what he had
to say first.

       He was looking out the window (at their gorgeous view), and told
me I needed to understand that "in their culture" there are "certain
things different." He had some trouble finding words but basically he
proceeded to explain their "machismo" attitudes about sex. If there
are no girls available, he said it is sometimes okay to "be the
active" (in sex with another male). "Never to be the
passive, that is for the homosexuals. But active is not considered
homosexual. It is permitted in certain times." And, well, in their
culture the girls are sheltered and not allowed to date boys until
their later teens. And, well, boys have "these desires" that a "hand
can't satisfy, it can't prepare them for the real act." And, well, for
boys of those certain ages when girls are not possible, it "can be
acceptable to practice in such a way. In a few years maybe, no,
because then they have girls. At my son's age, or maybe a couple years
older -- yes, it is okay to do this."

       My jaw was increasingly hanging open (I was just out of college
and not too versed in different cultures), but I could follow along.
Okay, so he's explaining why Andres tried to fuck me. I get it. It's
acceptable in his culture. Well, I'm not mad. Was that why his father
was explaining all this? "No problems, I understand." I replied. I
tried to laugh it off. "I'm not mad or anything."

       "DO you understand what I'm saying?" he reiterated, an
inquisitive look on his face.

       "Ummm, I think so," I replied. I was wondering where he was going
with the conversation now.

       "You had told me you were a homosexual, no?" he said more
quietly, a little more uncomfortable.

       "Yes" I sort of gulped.

       "You... you like these sorts of things, no?"

       "Ummm, yes?" For a second I thought he was about to hit on me!
But no.

       "Okay, so, we should have no further problems with this, right?"

       "You mean... with Andres." I clarified.

       "Yes, of course."

       "No, no problems." Of course I had no problems with what he had
done.

       "But you UNDERSTAND, right?" he looked at me like he didn't want
to have to go into detail.

       Hold on, is he implying he wants me to have sex with his 11 year
old son? What father would allow that? Especially when homosexuality
is so taboo in his culture?

       Ohhhhh, I got it. "OH, you mean that. Yes, I understand." That
machismo thing he had explained. To them, or at least to him, it's not
me "having sex" with his son, it is his son who has no girls to fuck,
fucking a warm hole while practicing and getting used to the motions,
how and where to hold, how to get the leverage, all of the stuff
needed to turn him into a macho Latino lover. And I was a willing
bottom who didn't care taking the female role because I was already
gay. I did understand.

       I smiled and he smiled. He seemed relieved he didn't have to
spell it out, maybe because it was something done but never talked
about. That would also explain why he had told me earlier he "didn't
want to know."

       "Remember that you work for me to take care of him. I pay you.
When he is happy, I am happy. When he is upset, I am upset." I was
nodding and he could see I truly did get it. "Okay, no more talk of
this. You can go."

       I walked out wide-eyed. Different cultures or not, did I just get
the green light to suck his son's cock and get fucked by him? I sure
did. This was going to me a very strange year, I thought.

       In the meantime I went back to the market and bought a bunch of
lube.


VII. THE FUCKING


       I apologized that day to Andres, and outright told him he
could fuck me whenever he needs. He wasn't angry anymore, but just
shrugged and didn't seem interested in my offer. Damn it, my cock was
about to explode. I wondered if he was cock-blocking me like I had
done to him. Probably not though, he had probably jacked off after our
encounter in my room and wasn't into it at that time.

       It remained frustrating for a few more days though, although
everything else was back to normal. Normal cuddling and everything. He
just never brought up fucking.

       Then it happened, immediately after he got home from school the
next Wednesday. He threw down his backpack by the door and quickly
found me in the lounge. "Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeck," he came up to me, with
that knowing tone and cheeky grin. He looked around to see if any of
the other help was around. They weren't, but he still spoke quietly
yet urgently. "Let's go to your room." We both knew why.

       "Ok!" I whispered back excitedly. We hurried up the stairs. I WAS
excited. Not so much at getting fucked, I don't think. I wasn't really
sure how that was going to work out, truthfully (I still hadn't seen
him hard and had no idea about his size -- we'd have to deal with it
as it happened). Most of all, I was excited that this other male
seemed so eager to pump himself inside of me until orgasm, even if he
was only 11 and it was probably a dry orgasm. I wasn't a virgin but
never had a partner that eager at any age.

       I noticed at the top of the stairs he was slightly behind me but
holding onto my shirt at the small of my back, kind of guiding me
toward my room while also holding on to me as if I might try to
escape.

   	We got into my room and shut the door. He was grinning and
breathing hard while just staring at me. He didn't seem to know what
to do next. I started taking off my shirt and said "let's take off all
our clothes so we don't get sweaty." He thought a second but then
snapped-to.

	"No, lay down there and pull down your pants a little" he said,
pointing to my bed.

	"What about my shirt?" I questioned.

	"No." He knew what he wanted. I figured probably he didn't want
to see my somewhat hairy torso and legs. Just the hole he was going to
fuck. He took his shirt off though, then his shoes, then fumbled with
his socks. Were those really necessary? I was going to say something
but didn't. The weird thing though was he kept staring at me with that
big grin as he undressed, while I was getting out the lube and rubbing
it around my asshole. He didn't even look down at his socks while he
fumbled with those, just kept staring at me. If he was going to
imagine I was a girl, why would he do that? It was a little unnerving.

	But okay. I turned around with my pants and underwear at mid-
thigh, preparing to get into position on the bed. My cock was very
erect and I knew I couldn't let him see it, because it would mean I
liked it and was gay, which I felt would destroy our relationship. I
had to keep it hidden, and a little awkwardly covered it with my hand
while facing away.

	He got his socks off, school dress pants off, then reached for
the last thing, his underwear. His arms were in the way and I couldn't
tell if he was hard through his underwear, but I must have been a
little obvious trying to see because I suddenly noticed he was looking
at me with an odd smirk. His expression seemed to say "why are you
staring at THAT?"

	He even seemed to take pleasure in slowing down as he hooked his
thumbs in his underwear and waited for my reaction. I'm sure I was
whimpering like a puppy. I had seen him nude many times before -- and
he had seen me -- but never erect. I HAD to see! Stop teasing me,
Andres! I didn't say that, but my eyes probably did.

	Andres giggled and flipped his underwear down, bent over and
pulled them off. I'd say he was about 80% erect. But it was long,
thickish, pointing about straight out, a little over three inches in
length. For an 11 year old about to enter puberty, it seemed to be a
nice, normal size, if not a little longer and thicker, and was probably
going to grow out very nicely.

	I think he was getting self-conscious at me looking back at him,
and told me to turn around. I complied, got on all fours then suddenly
realized I hadn't lubed him up so reached for it and started to turn
around. He shoved me down though and told me to lie down. Wow, Andres.
I liked how this affectionate, cuddly little boy was suddenly taking
charge. My cock throbbed, fortunately pointing straight up against my
stomach and not visible to him. I figured the lube I put around and
inside my ass already was probably enough to take his cock.

       I looked back as he shuffled into position and literally watched
as his cock popped up to full 100% mast in a matter of about two
seconds. Something triggered it but I wasn't sure what. Maybe seeing a
grown man passively laying down to get fucked by him? Whatever it was,
his cock was suddenly up at maybe a 45 degree angle. It was very
straight, and even more thick-ish, and long-ish. What a lucky boy! I
was so proud of him as he clamped down on my back and started jabbing
around with it.

       He was mostly riding the crack, sort of but not really poking
around for the hole, pressing his bare torso against me I think mostly
enjoying the warmth more than the friction. Then he straightened back
up and tilted his head while pulling apart my butt cheeks, trying to
find the hole. He found it after a bit and pushed in, giggling at first
but then moaning with a slightly louder "aiyee..."

       We kept going. We settled in a position where he wanted to clamp
onto my thighs, but my pants were in the way. I pulled down my pants to
my knees as he grasped and rubbed along my thighs as he fucked. And he
fucked hard. REALLY hard, harder than you'd think for such an
affectionate kid.

       He came after about five minutes. When he was just about to cum,
he leaned over and grabbed my shoulders. A dark side of him appeared
suddenly, and he called me a faggot just before he came. I didn't like
that. He both grunted and giggled as he orgasmed, as if only part of
his pleasure was from the orgasm, the other being the idea of having
a grown man bent over taking his cock and receiving his cum (however
little, if any).

       Andres laid over me for at least a half minute or so, laying
against my back and occasionally giving a slow thrust. When he finally
pulled out, he slapped my ass (really slapped, it actually hurt) and
called me a faggot again and headed back to his bedroom.

       I didn't know what to think of all that so kind of ignored that
part. Part of me was concerned about his new aggressive behavior, but
I also knew he was an affectionate, friendly boy at heart. Still, I
jacked off like crazy after he left.

       That was the first of many subsequent days of him fucking me. It
usually happened immediately after he got home from school. At first
it was just one or two times a week, but eventually over the months it
became almost every day. I was erect almost every single time while he
fucked, and worried about hiding it, because I couldn't let him think I
enjoyed it and was gay. Fortunately, my boner was easy to hide because
we always fucked either doggy-style, or with me lying face down on the
bed and my ass propped up by pillows.

       After some time doing that, I encountered a new problem: I was
starting to cum sometimes just from him fucking me, without ever
touching my cock. I don't know if my ass just learned how to relax and
enjoy the stimulation, or he was fucking more aggressively and getting
his cock further up to my prostate (or maybe his cock had grown more),
but it would happen without much warning. It was embarrassing because
it was awkward to catch and hide my cum. I always put down a small
towel to absorb my pre-cum, but I felt I couldn't squirt a full load
in that because the housekeeper would see it. I also felt I couldn't
cum in tissues because Andres would see me grabbing them or holding
them and would know I was cumming from getting fucked. So I had to
quietly cum in my hand when it happened, then I'd have to hide it from
his sight without letting it spill out, meanwhile trying to support
myself with the other hand as his 75-80 pound body would continue
slamming into me for however many minutes. Not very fun!

       That led me to wonder if it would REALLY be so bad if I stopped
trying to hide that I enjoyed it? I wouldn't have to awkwardly face
away from him to hide my boners, but most of all I could grind against
him in and out to help both him and myself cum better. It would be
better for us both.

       Unfortunately, I was just too scared about the resulting
"faggot" label to risk the good relationship I had with Andres our 99%
of the time we weren;t fucking, so I decided to still keep my enjoyment
of it hidden.

       But that also got me thinking: if this fucking thing is truly
part of their "machismo" culture, what about Andres' friends? They
knew me pretty well. Could I maybe get one of them interested in
fucking me? Then I could do a test: I'd try being open about getting
pleasure from his fucking, to see if he'd either get disgusted by me,
or wouldn't really care. If he didn't care, it might be an indication
I could do the same with Andres. And if his friend did get disgusted,
it wouldn't affect my relationship with Andres and I'd know not to try
it with him.

       I got excited about that new idea and couldn't wait to try...

(END OF PART 1)

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Let me know if you've made it this far, and I'll continue.

rickthedick@fastmail.fm