Warning: The following is a work of fiction and does not relate to any real person or event. It describes explicit sexual activities between adult men and young boys. If this is not what you are looking for, you have no excuse for reading any further. If it is, then enjoy!

THE PORN BOYS

by

Cosmo

Chapter 4: Knowing Yura -- II

Yura made it very clear that he was now in control. What happened next was delightful, but still somewhat unexpected. Coming in from the terrace, I closed the sliding boor behind us. Once inside, Yura let go of my hand and left me standing in the middle of the room. Silently, he went over to the light switch, reached up and dimmed the lights a little, then pulled back the covers on the bed. He shed his SpongeBob pajama bottoms by running his hands down his hips, slipping them under the elastic, and sliding them down so they fell into a crumpled heap at his feet. He stepped out of them, and with a quick nimble hop, he jumped up and bounced onto the bed naked. He sat up against the headboard smiling, languishing lasciviously, making it clear that he was mine for the taking. His tight, hairless little body was incredibly beautiful and his little boydick was already hard. I shall never forget the expression on his face as he grabbed his little boner and squeezed it tightly in his little fist. His eyes closed in ecstasy and his entire body seemed to melt with the pleasure. He pulled roughly at his hairless little dick and balls, and then he opened his eyes, holding his hard boydick by its base, and showed it to me, as though he was offering it to me. He asked me, pleadingly, in Russian, to come to him, and I understood by his tone that it was a request for satisfaction -- or relief -- I wasn't sure which. Either way, his precocity was disarming, and I understood then how the incident with the cigarette on the terrace only a few moments ago was a symbolic prelude to what was about to follow.

Of course the fact that he was doing this shouldn't have surprised me. We had been building up to this moment from the time I first set eyes on him. Perhaps I had always known it was going to happen. Perhaps he did too. Even so, now that it was happening, I was still taken aback by his precocity, and the fact that he clearly had no compunction about what he was doing. He was so self-confident and forward, and comfortable with his own body, it was breathtaking. I think what surprised me most of all was not that he was only ten years old and was demonstrating that he really was a sexual being -- but that despite what he had been through, he actually wanted sex, was able to make a clear choice and was doing this freely and voluntarily. Perhaps it was that, more than anything, that I found such a turn-on.

I have already said that John taught me well. It had become my rule that I would never be the one to initiate these things. It always had to come from the boy. Well, I had just received my invitation. The sight of this precocious, gorgeous, naked and sexually aroused child on the bed, essentially inviting me to seduce him -- or perhaps it was him who was seducing me -- was just too much. Turning to him, I pulled off my polo shirt, unclipped my belt, and removed my jeans. He watched me intently, rubbing his little boydick in anticipation, and as I slipped off my underwear, revealing my hard-on to him for the first time, his eyes widened and he quickened the pace on his dick.

`Ooh,' he squealed, his high pitched voice excited, his eyes fixed on my hard-on as though he had never seen one before.

He held out a hand, enticing me to join him on the bed, while he kept the other firmly around his boydick, rubbing it roughly, almost erratically, in his anticipation.

I approached him, by now almost breathless with excitement myself, and mounted the bed, kneeling before him, massaging my hard-on for him.

`You're so beautiful, little buddy,' I whispered, for the first time able to openly convey my feelings for him.

He smiled mischievously.

`I knew you liked me,' he said, `You do like me, don't you?'

`Oh, you're really fuckin' special,' I said.

His smile broadened. He seemed to like me swearing for emphasis. He held up his palms to me as I neared him, preparing to sink his little fingers into the fine, sparse hair on my chest. I scooted up and knelt astride him, his long, slender legs stretched out between my knees and, still reclined against the headboard, he ran his delicate little fingers all over my chest, cupping my pectorals in his warm little palms, his fingertips tracing the thin little trail of hair down the centre of my abs to my crotch. He appreciated my well toned body, my muscled chest and trim stomach, and at that moment I knew that all that time spent working out at the police gym had been worthwhile. It would have been worth it just for this one moment, seeing the amazement and wonderment in his eyes as he drank in the sight of my body, feeling every inch, taking in every detail. This little boy was so into me, it was incredibly arousing.

He reached up and pulled my head down towards him and for the first time I tasted his beautiful little rosebud lips. I kissed his mouth really hard, mashing our lips together roughly and invading his little mouth with my tongue. He let me, almost sucking my tongue into his little mouth. His breath smelled of cigarettes, but then probably so did mine. It did not put me off. The proximity of his little face, and being able to kiss him so freely, was an exquisite pleasure. His head moved down, his lips traced a path of wet, ticklish kisses all the way down my chest. He buried his nose right into my abs and I pressed his beautiful little head into my tight stomach. Feeling his warm, wet lips down there made my stomach muscles quiver. While he was down there, he kissed the tip of my hard-on, ever so gently, and ever so expertly. The sight of his little mouth on the tip of my cock was incredibly erotic. But that was nothing to what he did next. Shockingly, he wrapped his lips around it and enveloped almost my whole cock in his mouth, without any instigation on my part. I gasped from the sheer pleasure, and from the shock of seeing my whole cock disappear into his mouth. This kid was so capable, so expert in what he was doing, and his little mouth was making me feel so good. I buried my fingers in his thick black hair and gently coaxed his head onto my cock. Not that he needed any encouragement. I resisted the temptation to thrust into his mouth. It wasn't necessary. What he was doing was just fine. I simply held onto his head and watched the way his cheeks puffed and hollowed as he performed on me, and I could feel his hot little tongue flicking across the head of my cock. His technique defied belief. It was so precise, so measured -- in fact so practiced, it seemed almost instinctive. The sight of my cock in his mouth, fucking that beautiful face, enveloped in the magical warm, wet cavern of his mouth... I knew I wasn't going to last long and was already anticipating building up to a really powerful cum, at which point he suddenly pulled away, leaving me cliffhanging and breathless and my cock naked and exposed, pulsing in mid air.

`What the...?'

`Fuck me!' he said tersely, in English.

He really emphasized the word `fuck', to demonstrate that he was now being just raw and dirty. He looked up into my eyes with an urgency that belied his age. It was an expression of flushed seriousness, revealing out loud what his body silently craved. It was a look I had only ever seen in the street boys -- a look that conveyed the urgency to have their little bodies mercilessly fucked. With that, he promptly turned over onto all fours, expertly spreading his legs for me, his narrow waist dipping, pointing his perfect little boy butt up in the air. I admired the litheness and suppleness of the little preteen body stretched out naked before me. He turned back to look at me, getting down onto his elbows to offer me his boyhole and steady himself for my assault. He purred in his little high pitched voice, still grabbing at his hard little dick which pointed insistently down between his legs.

`Fuck me,' he said again, this time with more emphasis, his face muffled into the pillow.

With that he mustered up a mouthful of spit, which he deposited into his palm, then reached back and slapped it into his boyhole. He was so sexed up that I knew he wasn't going to wait. It was such an erotic sight, this lean, svelte, almost delicate looking child, waiting to be unceremoniously fucked by my big cock. He was so beautiful. His skin was so perfect, so smooth and white and creamy, like terracotta. I could have blown my load all over his perfect little bubble butt right there -- soiling that flawless young skin with my cum. But it was obvious he wanted my dick in him.

`Not like this,' I said, and reached down to turn him over.

He smiled mischievously, immediately understanding what I wanted. He positioned himself on his back, bringing his knees to his chest, hooking his elbows behind his knees, giving me clear access to his boyhole. His body had amazing flexibility, and great suppleness, as only a boy of his age could have. His little boydick was dagger hard, flat against his belly, pointing up towards his navel. It was the first time I got a good look at his erection. It was perfectly formed. Small, straight and just the right size for a boy of his age. The skin had rolled back just a little, enough to expose the tip of its pink little head. It was a lovely stiff little cock, over-inflated with arousal, standing out so proudly, pulsing with the need to be firmly lodged into some tight, wet hole. At this moment I didn't know if I should suck that little dick for him, or fuck his little boyhole.

One thing I know as a man is that we are genetically programmed to fuck. If we see someone we desire, we want to stick our cock into them. If we see physical features we admire, we want to blow our load all over them. I know that predisposition sometimes comes under criticism, but I also know that without it the human race would end tomorrow. That's what cocks are for -- and we are driven by our desire to use them. So when, at this precise moment, I knelt there with this beautiful naked kid, hard and willing and apparently as driven by his cock as I was, I just knew I had to bury my cock into him.

I shall never forget the way he stared into my eyes so lovingly, biting his lip in concentration, as I forced my dick into his boyhole for the first time. My cock ached to be enveloped in his tight warmth. It went in surprisingly easily -- spit or no spit -- but then I knew just how very experienced he was. Yura knew how to control his sphincter to accommodate the invasion. My cock seemed huge to his small, boyish frame. His expression turned very serious for a moment, with a twinge of pain as I pushed into him, and his little mouth opened momentarily with a silent gasp. But he bore the initial pain, and he let me in. His expression soon changed. As I sank into him, like a hot knife into butter, my big cock glided fully into him as though his little chute had been made to precisely accommodate my girth. He relaxed and a look of relief and pleasure took over. His blue eyes were now screwed tightly shut, his little mouth slightly agape, his pink little tongue firmly poking out of one corner of his lips. He was so beautiful. At that moment what I saw before me was so perfect, so exquisite, I couldn't help exerting a few quick, hard thrusts into him, digging my cock deep into his narrow little abdomen. His eyelids flashed open, and his expression was confused for a moment, as though asking `What did you do that for?' Still impaled tightly on my cock, his ankles hooked over my shoulders, I laid with almost all my weight on him, pinning him down. I shall never forget what he did then: he smiled! As I watched him, my face hovering only inches above his, an impish smile crept across his face. He was loving it!

`Fuck me Mark,' he whispered breathlessly, `fuck me hard.'

It was dirty talk -- taunting me, inviting me to discard all restraint, wanting me to hurt him. I thrust hard into him, moving my iron hard rod in the softness of his little cunt, slowly at first, then again and again, thoroughly pummeling him into the pillow, and he went on talking under his breath.

`Oh I need this so bad. Fuck me Mark, fuck my little ass, fuck your dick into me, hurt me...'

He continued talking dirty almost all the time we were fucking. This dirty talk was so arousing. He certainly liked to express himself, sometimes muttering quietly under his breath with his eyes closed, sometimes loudly into my face as I bucked my cock into him.

`Yeh, that's so good. Give it to me Mark. Fuck my little ass...'

We got into a really good fucking rhythm, all the time reading each other's expressions, and kissing. He loved kissing, drawing my head towards him as we fucked, and flicking his hot little tongue around. He was shockingly knowledgeable and practiced. This little boy was superb. He was with me throughout -- compliant, enthusiastic, and sometimes in control. I swear I had never experienced that in adults, yet alone in someone so young. His technique was legendary, knowing exactly when to flex the muscles in his little boycunt, and how to position himself to maximize our pleasure, sometimes mine, sometimes his own.

He was so attuned to fucking that he felt when I was getting close. My pace quickened and my thrusting became more urgent and more forceful. I was so damn excited by this kid, was so turned on by him, and so spiritually in tune with him, that I wanted to experience the most exquisite pleasure of all inside his little body. I just had to pump my spunk into him. It was then that he stopped me. He signaled a change of position by pushing his palm against my chest. He had me pull out, and then he spread himself flat on the bed, with me towering over him between his legs, my hard-on aching for relief. He rubbed his hands all over his chest and stomach, pinching his little pink nipples, arching his back, thrusting his flat little belly up at me. His hairless little body wriggled with delight, squirming with anticipation.

`Cum on me!' he demanded.

This forwardness, this sense of knowing exactly what he wanted in someone so young, only heightened my excitement. He sat up and grabbed at my cock, by now almost desperate for my ejaculation and I let him finish me off. I watched his graceful little fingers, and the neat, trim, pink little fingernails, wrapped around my thick shaft; those delicate little hands expertly jacking my big cock into a frenzy. It was just too much. My cock finally reached bursting point, and I savored that delicious moment of delay -- that brief expectant pause when you know you're past the point of no return and your orgasm is imminent. I felt my cock give one enormous pulse as my orgasm hit, and I could see Yura close his eyes and throw his head back in ecstasy as he prepared to be covered in my cum. My god, this kid was so into it, and just seeing that sent me way over the edge and intensified my orgasm beyond imagination. My whole body tightened with violent waves of pleasure and I gasped, nearly screaming with the intensity of it. I swear I have never blasted so much cum or as hard. It came out with such force that it splashed all over his face and neck and he almost seemed to direct my cock onto his chest and stomach even as I was cumming. It was quite intense, and lasted a good long time, with several good strong jets of cum. Where it peppered his young body, it ran in little rivulets down him, over his smooth chest and nipples, and over his flat tummy and his hairless little cock and balls, and seeing this only heightened my pleasure. He milked my cock enthusiastically until he knew my orgasm had subsided, and then, incredibly, with my cum still dripping from his face, he leaned forward and licked the head of my cock. He sucked on the tip, licking off all the excess cum and squeezing out any last drops, before he let go and dropped back down onto the bed. He was rubbing his hands all over his chest and stomach, smearing my warm cum into his skin, and scooping up what he could, licking it off his palms. His hot little tongue was licking all around his mouth, where the first and heaviest blast had hit, and he was loving it, savoring every lick, every mouthful. Still laying back on the bed, with me towering over him, one hand in his mouth, he reached up with the other and pulled me to him. I bent down towards him and he lifted his head off the pillow to meet my lips with his. I was rewarded with a hot mouthful of my own cum, which he spat vehemently into my mouth as we kissed. It was shockingly erotic. God, this little boy just about blew my mind.

Finally, he laid back on the bed with a satisfied grin, his work seemingly done for now. He was shiny with sweat as well as my cum where he had smeared it over himself. And there were still traces of it where the jets of cum had splintered with the force of ejaculation and had landed on him as little pearly droplets on his shoulders and upper arms. I reached out to wipe them with my bare hands and as I did so, you know what he did? He grabbed my hands and licked them. He licked my fingers greedily and with great relish, sticking my fingers as far into his warm wet little mouth as they would go. God, how this little boy loved the taste of cum.

Satisfied, and still somewhat breathless, I dropped down onto the bed beside him. He laid there next to me, one hand up under his head as he lay on the pillow. The other, I soon detected, was down on his crotch, and he was playing with his own little dick, rubbing the head with his palm, grabbing it, squeezing it, twiddling it around, and letting it slap back down against his abdomen. He was still as hard as wood and, it seemed, fixing to have his own cum.

I scooted up onto one elbow as I lay stretched out beside him, and I admired his beautiful young body, casting an eye over his sweaty, cummy little torso, and the flat little belly that was as tight as a drum. He looked over at me, grabbing at his hairless boydick and pointing it straight up into the air and then waved it at me. He wanted me to suck him! Well, I needed no invitation. He deserved to have a cum of his own. I knew that his young body was already producing spunk and I was instantly hard again just at the thought of sucking his perfect little dick and having it squirt in my mouth.

As I moved over him, one hand on his stomach, one on his thigh, I enveloped his hard little organ in my mouth, and as it slid past my lips he moaned quite loudly, `Ugh...' almost as though I had hurt him. His pleasure was tangible. That little cock was so stiff he must have been aching for relief. As my tongue probed around his foreskin, I licked around the head and beneath the rim of the glans, and he moaned even louder. It was incredibly arousing. Glancing up at him, with his dick still in my mouth, I could see his eyes screwed tightly shut and his little fists by his sides grabbing handfuls of the bedclothes. He wriggled and writhed so much it was almost as though he was in agony. He could barely resist the temptation to buck his slim little pelvis upwards into my mouth. Then he started again with the dirty talk, his utterances going straight up into the air as I continued my ministrations on his hard little cock, his high pitched voice almost desperate for relief.

`Oh, that's so good Mark. Suck my little dick. Make me squirt my spunk for you...'

Such a sweet but dirty little mouth. But I liked his assertion that he was going to squirt his spunk just for me. That really appealed to me.

Tired of leaning over on my elbows, I laid down flat on the bed and lifted him above me onto my face, his little dick still in my mouth. He was almost imperceptibly light, as though there was hardly any substance to his little body at all -- at any rate he felt lightweight in my strong arms. I positioned him on all fours above me, with my head between his knees, so that he was able to fuck down into my mouth at will. And he was good at it. I could feel his boybutt flexing and tensing as he fucked his little dick into my mouth. I spread my palms onto each side of his little bubble butt and felt for his boyhole. It was still wet and dilated from my fucking. As my fingertips probed his little hole, he squealed with each thrust of his hips, insistently seeking the satisfaction of my warm, wet mouth, clamped tightly around his little dick. It was driving him crazy. I had to admire his technique, which was remarkably well practiced. His fucking had such a refined style, the rhythmic thrusting of his hips belied his age, and his movements had a maturity and a professionalism that I had only ever seen in seasoned porn stars. He humped and bucked his slim little hips in such a way that it seemed almost instinctive, with a natural fluid movement that he knew heightened his pleasure -- and mine. To have his little hairless body flexing, driving his boydick so deeply, so smoothly, so erotically into my mouth, was incredible. This little boy was really something else.

When his breathing became quicker and deeper, I knew he was getting close. That was when I stuck one of my fingers deeper into his boyhole, getting it in easily up to the last knuckle, and massaged his gland. It drove him wild. His pace quickened and became more insistent, and his squeals gradually louder. His little dick was rock hard in my mouth. I pressed hard on his gland, hooking my finger and digging it painfully into the side of his velvet little chute. And then it happened -- on the paradise stroke he stopped, stiffened and went completely silent, holding his breath, and there was almost a delay between the moment he felt his orgasm hit and the moment his little dick flexed wildly in my mouth. He let out his breath, gasping `Oh fuck!' and then `Ungh, ungh, ungh...' in time with the profound ecstasy that accompanied the pulsing of his little dick. I could feel he had even rewarded me with two or three little jets of watery boycum as my mouth filled with little boy spunk. It tasted so good, much sweeter than mine, and I gulped it down without hesitation, sucking on his hard little dick as though trying to draw out all the remaining boyspunk from deep within his immature little body.

Spent, but still hard, Yura pulled his little dick out of my mouth and collapsed down onto the bed next to me. His dick was still pulsing perceptibly in his crotch, his youthful erection still very much alive, and still dribbling wet little boy spunk from the tip.

`Fuck,' he whispered, in English, still slightly breathless.

I looked over at him, once again scooting up onto one elbow. He stared straight up at the ceiling, one hand draped across his forehead as he lay there, slightly dazed. His chest was still falling and rising rapidly as he came down from his high. I reached out and felt his young body, my dark, hairy, muscular forearm a stark contrast against his white, hairless, boyish chest and stomach, which still had my spunk drying on it.

Eventually, his breathing slowed and he turned to me, as though just remembering I was still there, and he looked into my eyes with a serious expression for a moment. Those sweet, azure eyes looked deeply into mine, and he smiled, acknowledging that he was utterly drained. That was so cute, the way his little body was so completely spent after that particularly powerful boycum.

He rolled over so that he was resting on top of me, his crotch on my thigh, one leg between mine, and his cheek resting on my chest. I was suddenly aware that I was supporting the full weight of his hot little body. I steadied him by wrapping my arms around him, and rested my palms on his smooth, squishy little butt. He started talking again, his voice muffled against my chest hair.

`Fuck, that was good,' he announced, `I needed that.'

He seemed to like the word `fuck' and used it to great effect. By now I could tell a lot from the tone and expression of his voice and I felt that, over the past couple of days, and especially after what we had just done, we were pretty in tune with each other.

`Thank you Mark,' he said, `You fuck real good.'

As I laid there, with this lovely little boy resting on top of me, I felt the weight of his body the full length of mine. I felt his warmth and the hardness of his little boy muscles. I felt him breathing, his body pulsing with the vitality of youth, and at that moment I felt a special connection with him. I was so enamored with this little boy, who had come into my life in the most unusual circumstances, and whom I had met barely more than three days ago. He was making such an impact on me that I was beginning to feel a deep and tangible bond was developing. It was a perfect boymoment. The most perfect boymoment we had shared so far, made all the more perfect by what happened next. He was quiet, his breathing slowing almost to a sigh. I laid there beneath him, captivated by his breathing. And when he had recovered sufficiently, he moved his head and looked up at me as he laid there, his thick black hair brushing against my skin, his cheek on my chest. I looked down at him, peering deeply into his crystal blue eyes, with those long seductive eyelashes, and he spoke very quietly.

`I really like you Mark,' he said, almost in a whisper, `I have never met anybody as nice as you.'

It was said with such honesty and sincerity, with the trusting innocence that only a kid of his age could possess. And once again, in that inimitable way I soon learned characterized so many of the things he said, it brought to my eye a little tear of emotion.

He eventually let his words trail off and I felt his little body relax completely on top of me. His breathing became long and deep, and I could see his smooth back rising and falling with each sighing breath. He had finally succumbed to his boyish exhaustion and was asleep in no time. The childish exuberance and the trials of the day had finally caught up with him. It was an expression of his trust and evidence of our budding rapport that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep on me. To have his limp, hairless, hot little body on me like that, even as my spunk was still drying on it, was an exquisite pleasure which I took the time to really appreciate.

I contemplated this strange paradox of a boy, this enigmatic little person that was so full of contrasts and contradictions, and at this moment I felt suddenly very protective of him. Yura was a little boy with a lot of problems. He was prone to wetting the bed and was plagued by nightmares. He was a pivotal element in this international police operation, possibly the last living witness in the entire investigation. His life was in flux and his future was uncertain. On the surface, he was just a little boy that was embroiled in events that he had no control over. But in bed he was different. In bed he was assertive, confident and apt to take control. When it came to sex he knew what he wanted and he knew that he was good at it. He was energetic and lustful, vocal and dirty. To me, he was a prince, a very special little person that I absolutely adored. I didn't know how long I was going to be on this assignment, or how long this wonderful little boy was going to be in my life, but I knew then, despite the impossibility of the situation, that I wanted it to go on. During the course of only a matter of days, this little boy had made such an impression on me, with his complexity, his vitality, his precocity and his charm. I was so deeply drawn to him, I was hopelessly in love with him. It was a strange feeling, all the more unfathomable in its strangeness because of his age. I lay there, hugging this wonderful, beautiful little boy on top of me, still somewhat disbelieving at what we had just done. I wanted to hold him and take care of him and make him mine forever. I drew the bedcovers up over us both, for the moment content and happy, and eventually let my own exhaustion overtake me.

******

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