Date: Sat, 29 Jul 2017 03:32:09 -0400 From: Leo Rysing Subject: The Wolf-Eyed Boy "The Wolf-Eyed Boy" (M/b, M/B/b) by Leo Rysing (based on events related to him) Comments to the author may be sent to: LeoRysing at protonmail - dot- com This is the latest in an ongoing series of stories based on actual experiences, as related to me, by readers and others I've met in my life. I wasn't there. They may, or may not, be true, but I believe they are. . If you enjoy stories of this kind, please continue to support the good folks at The Nifty Archive with your donations at: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ------ "The Wolf-Eyed Boy" Preface: Many years ago, while on business in Miami, I met a lovely Hispanic man who shared this story. His smile was charming. With his glasses on he looked like the sort of smart, professional man you'd expect to work in an office. (He did, doing administrative and accounting work.) At the time he was in his 40's, attractive and thin with a smooth, boyish face. He was athletic, but at 5-foot-4-inches and 140 pounds he was not going to make the cut for either the basketball or football teams. Despite a mild-mannered demeanor, he was one of the most sexually uninhibited men I'd ever met. As with almost everyone I get to know on an intimate level, I asked him about his first sexual experience. His face lit up and over the course of several visits, during which I asked for more and more details, he shared with me one of the most unusual stories I've heard. Naturally I asked if I could write it up and he said fine, as long as I omitted identifying details. That was a little tricky with this one. Even though these events took place in the 1970s some things were very specific. I feared anyone reading this might identify the parties involved so beyond just changing the names of key people and places, I've altered more details to help hide identities and also taken a few more liberties in filling in the blanks, but the essence of the story remains true to what he shared. It is presented as told by him, in his own words, as best I can remember them. Although the story is in three "parts," all are included in this one posting. ---- Part 1 - The New Kid My name is Marcos. I am gay and I believe I was born that way, although it took me awhile to accept it. I have always been attracted to guys. Even as a kid, I liked seeing other men and boys naked, especially down at the beach where males of all ages would get naked to use the changing rooms and showers there. I especially loved seeing fathers showering in the nude with their sons, and the older, muscular men who would change without trying to hide. I liked seeing boys my own age too, but they were often shy and would try to hide their bodies. I was always staring. Even before I knew what I wanted to do with them, I knew I wanted to do *something* with them. I didn't know what, but I knew it would involve me doing things with their dicks. I also knew this was something I could not share with anyone. It was thanks to a man who lived across the street from me in the summer of 1976 that I got my first opportunity to explore what I desired and I've never looked back. Today I am what you might call an aggressive bottom. I like to seduce big, strong men and get used by them, and it all started with an attraction to a very unique boy in my class. I grew up in South Florida in a neighborhood that was heavily Latino. When I was around 12 or 13 and in middle school, a new boy moved into our neighborhood. His name was Kuvae. [Okay, not his real name but his real name was just as unusual sounding. I have never known another person with his name which is why I don't want to use it here.] His name was sexy and exotic and so was he. My family knew his abuela (his grandmother). She lived in our neighborhood and attended our church. Her daughter, Kuvae's mother, had been working for many years in Europe. Now she had moved back home along with her son, who was roughly my age. Kuvee's mom was only half-Latina, with dark hair, but light skin. She was very beautiful, but her son was positively magical. Kuvae was the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. No one knows the real story of his father. His mother had become expectant while working in the Scandinavian area of Northern Europe. Kuvae's father must have been of some Northern European descent, either Norwegian, Swedish -- possibly Icelandic, no one knew for sure. His mother never talked about him. Kuvae also never spoke of his father. In fact, when asked about his dad he always just said, "I don't have one," as if it were somehow possible for him to exist without there being one. For me, it just added to his mystique and I imagined there being some cool mystery about him. In a heavily Hispanic neighborhood most have dark skin, black hair and dark brown eyes. Kuvae was a mix of two worlds. His skin was much lighter than ours, but he was not "fair skinned." I would describe his skin as bronze or copper, golden and smooth, without a single blemish. He was beautiful. Even into puberty I never saw the boy get so much as a pimple. His hair was brownish-blond and he wore it long and swept back. All of that would be enough to make any boy stand out, but the most amazing thing about Kuvae was his eyes. Kuvae had "wolf eyes." If you've ever met someone with eyes like this you know what I'm talking about. His eyes were like a Husky dog (sled dog), steel gray to white- blue, seeming to glow and reflect the blue of the sky when outdoors. They were amazing and no one who met him failed to notice those eyes. Being so exotic and attractive it was only natural that everyone wanted to be his friend, including me, and as if his good looks weren't enough, he also had an iridescent personality. He was smart. Very smart. He could be very funny, when he wanted to be, or deeply serious and mature in a way few boys our age could. Sometimes he would grow quiet and introspective. You felt his mind and his feelings ran deep and unspoken. He was also very kind. I never knew him to be mean or cruel and if someone was being teased he'd be the first to step up and say, "leave him alone." And when Kuvae said it, they usually did. Kuvae spoke some Spanish, but not as much as most of us. His English was very formal. Having spent part of his life in Europe he had this interesting accent you couldn't quite place. Sometimes he sounded almost British, but most times, very formal American. Naturally he showed up right at the time I was hitting puberty. I had not discovered my own sexuality yet and found the strange feelings I had for this boy confusing. I was intensely attracted to him, but didn't understand why. In Spanish girls' names often end with a short, feminine "a" sound - "La" - Maria, Sophia?. Boys' names often end with a harder, more masculine sound - Pedro, Hector, Guillermo. Kuvae's (real) name fell right in between those sounds - a little bit feminine, but still with a strong masculine air. It suited him perfectly. He was a very athletic boy, rugged, physical, interested in sports, especially soccer, which he'd played a lot in Europe before it was really popular here in the States. He loved that game and played it well, but he was also a very "pretty boy" with soft, beautiful facial features. He was the kind of boy you'd see on the cover of magazines like "Tiger Beat," that were aimed at teenage girls. Not surprisingly, he was very comfortable about his body. He often went shirtless, especially to play soccer, revealing a boy's beautiful smooth, bronze chest on the verge of developing into adolescent muscles. Watching him run around with only a pair of soccer shorts on, his perfect, golden skin in the sun, his legs and his chest on display for all, you couldn't help looking at him. If you looked closer (as I did) you could also see the shape and movement of his growing boyhood as it bounced freely in his soccer shorts. He had what looked to be a very large and heavy package for a boy his age. Boys admired him and girls desired him. I should've hated this kid because he had it all and I had nothing. I was a short little Latino boy, a cute but geeky little fella, desperate for friends, while he had it all and didn't seem to know it. And yet, for some reason you just had to love him, and I did, in ways I couldn't even understand. If all this fawning sounds like I was smitten with this boy, that's because I was. He was my first serious "boy crush." Over the course of the school year Kuvae and I got to be friends of a sort, mostly because he lived near me, and my mom was close with his abuela. Because of that we occasionally hung out. I had a big family, he was an only child, so we usually went to his place. His mother worked, his grandmother was supposed to "watch him," but he was pretty much on his own. We were friends but not "best friends." He had MANY friends. I was thrilled anytime he asked me to hang out with him. Because of my feelings for him, whenever we were alone in his bedroom I always felt a weird sensation, a yearning in my boy parts. As an adult I'd call it "sexual-tension," but as a boy, I didn't have a word for it. When not in school Kuvae wore very little. When we played at his house all he usually wore was a pair of nylon soccer shorts. Sometimes we'd get to horsing around in his room, like boys will do, pretending at that time like we were wrestlers on TV. We'd start playing "Dusty Rhodes," ("The American Dream") who was a very popular wrestler in Florida at the time. Suddenly Kuvae would just grab me and tackle me onto the bed. One day that I will never forget, he did something very strange. We were at his house after school, playing in his room. It was a hot day (not unusual in southern Florida) and we were both shirtless. Suddenly he grabbed me and threw me on the bed and we started wrestling Flat on my back on his bed he pinned my arms over my head and sat on my waist. He was sitting right on my hips as he leaned over me, holding my wrists pinned, victorious, when he looked me directly in the eyes, smiling broadly. Gradually, his smiled faded and his expression turned to something else. He got this serious look. Now when Kuvae looked at you with his piercing "wolf eyes" he could either be smiling, and you felt like he was a puppy dog you just wanted to snuggle up and play with, or he'd look at you deeply, not smiling, and you felt like he was looking inside you. On this day, his smile faded, and he looked at me intensely with those piercing eyes. A change came over him and I struggled a little to get up. Without a sound, he pushed harder and easily held me down. He was much stronger and bigger than me. Now I was his prisoner. I stopped struggling, looked into those eyes, and felt like I was under a spell. I just stared at him and, honestly, I couldn't move. I felt hypnotized by his gaze. Silently, the whole mood changed. Neither of us said anything. He looked down my body, studying my chest and looking me over. I felt like a sheep must feel when a wolf looks at him and you know he's thinking of making a meal of you. I just lay there, silently, and let his eyes devour me. My dick was now hard and throbbing in my shorts and he was sitting directly on it. He leaned close to my chest, moving his face over me and took a deep breath. He was smelling me. Then he did something totally unexpected. He stuck out his tongue and licked my bare skin. I moaned and bucked in response to the sudden feeling, but because he was sitting on my hips it just caused my boner to push into him. He must have felt my hard-on because I could feel his cock, soft, thick and heavy, as it rubbed back against mine through the nylon of his shorts. I don't think he was hard, just big. Inside those shorts felt like something soft, but thick, very thick, and meaty. The boy had me. I couldn't get loose if I wanted to -- and I didn't want to. He moved his tongue and began to lick my nipple, making me squirm intensely, then he sensuously traced his tongue gently over my hairless boy chest to arrive at the other nipple and did the same thing, subjecting me to the most beautiful torture I'd ever known. Without a word between us, he moved lower down my body, licking down to my navel and looking over my stomach, exploring me, tasting me, smelling me. It was like he was so interested in my body he forgot I was even there. Or maybe he just didn't care. He was a wolf, and wolves don't care about the opinions of sheep. He slid down so he was seated on my thighs, adjusting as needed to keep me pinned. He had me solidly nailed to the bed, but he needn't have bothered. I wasn't going anywhere. His eyes alone had frozen me in place. My hard dick, probably only 3-4 inches fully erect at that time, was now clearly visible to him, outlined by my athletic shorts. He saw it and lowered his face to it, studying the outline of my boyish member with that same intense gaze. He pressed his face into my groin and nuzzled at it, rubbing his nose over my cock in my shorts while holding me pinned. He inhaled deeply, smelling me through my shorts and taking in my scent. I said nothing; I barely breathed. He opened his mouth, pulled his lips over his teeth, and began gnawing on my cock through my shorts like it was a chew toy. I have no idea why he did that or where that came from. I just watched, knowing this boy could eat me alive right now and I would die happy. All the times we'd been together I had felt this odd chemistry between us, yet this just came out of nowhere, without a single word being spoken. All that "sexual tension" had been, I assumed, one way. But now he was doing this to me! My "wolf boy" was literally licking me, sniffing me and virtually "eating" me. For about 10 seconds I felt his mouth "chew" my hard boy cock, gnawing on it through my shorts. I let out a soft moan, it felt so good. Then, as abruptly as he'd started and without any comment, he just stopped cold and stood up. "Let's go ride bikes," was all he said, then he left the room. And that was it. Done. Over. It started abruptly out of nowhere and ended the same way. Later, not a word would be spoken about what happened. He never seemed to give it another thought and I didn't dare to bring it up. It was like it had never happened as far as he was concerned. Of course, I never forgot. It stuck with me and honestly, it troubled me. Why had I let another boy do that to me? Isn't that the kind of thing they tell you that you're supposed to push someone away and make them stop? Why did I let it go on? I had felt like I was powerless under a spell. As an adult who now understands his sexuality I recognize that I actually was, in a sense, under a spell. It was the spell of raging hormones. I couldn't resist the pull of my own horny desire, but back then I didn't understand that, I just knew I felt differently than I had ever felt before in my life. I felt powerless, as if some magic had been used to paralyze me. As a good Catholic boy who had not yet come out to himself, I seriously wondered if something supernatural had been done to me. After all, I was a good boy! I would never do something sinful like that! In my mind Kuvae, the mysterious boy with the wolf eyes, had some magical power, a spell he had used on me. That's how he had made me feel the way I had, and he had subdued me with this magnetism, because otherwise, I would never have allowed it. That was me, a young, closeted Catholic boy with an over active imagination, rationalizing what had happened. A few months later, I would have one of my first wet dreams, and it involved Kuvae doing stuff to me. The wolf boy had invaded my dreams now too. In the animated "Jungle Book," which I had seen as a kid, the Snake Ka uses his eyes to hypnotize the nearly naked little brown boy Mowgli and put him under a spell so he could eat him. That's exactly how I had felt! I was the little brown boy under the spell of someone who wanted to "eat" me. Clearly, in some crazy way, a part of me was more willing to believe this boy had magic power than believe I'd allow another male to do something sexual with me. In the months that followed I discovered masturbation and found myself jerking off thinking of that moment when the wolf boy ate me alive. (Sometimes, I still do.) As for reality, Kuvae and I played the rest of that day and then it was many weeks before we played together again. That was the way it usually went. He had lots of other friends and while I always felt a little jealous, I was always thrilled that he played with me at all. I have often wondered if he sensed my gayness and it emboldened him to do what he did to me that day. I doubt he ever did anything like that with one of the other boys. As it turned out, there was another side to Kuvae none of us were really aware of. And that brings me to the next part of this story. Part 2 - The Man Across the Street Nothing ever seemed to bother Kuvae. I never saw him get mad or lose his temper and no one could ever say anything that got a rise out of him. I never saw him cry or get upset. He was confident in himself and this made him immune to all teasing. Self-confidence can make you bully proof when you're a kid. I was always being teased and picked on. I thought it was because of my size. Now I know it was because I was very insecure and they sensed my weakness to prey upon me. Kuvae seemed to have no weak areas, there was no insult he couldn't laugh off, but gradually, over time, I eventually came to realize there was one thing he was sensitive about. If you asked him who his father was his answer was always very flat. "I don't have one." One time I pushed it a bit, saying, "Yeah, I know you say that but even if you don't know who he was, everyone has to have a father." He just shrugged and said, "Well, I don't. Let's play some ball." Initially I didn't notice how he always deflected the question quickly and then immediately changed the subject. Me being a kid with a big imagination, and inclined to believe some silly, superstitious things, I wondered, "What if he really DIDN'T have an actual father?" I knew from my Catholic upbringing that the Virgin Mary had conceived a child without a man and I had been raised to believe that was a true, scientific fact. So, if a God could get a woman to conceive a child....? Well, this got me thinking crazy things. What if when she was in Norway or wherever she'd been, Kuvae's mother had been visited by some old pagan spirit? You know, those old Norse gods? What if they were real and a wolf spirit had impregnated her? This was around the same time "THE OMEN" came out, and in that there was a bit about how Anti-Christ Damian had been conceived when his mother was raped by a jackal. I knew the movie was fiction but based on a religious belief I held to be true, so more fuel for my stupid imagination. What if Kuvae's father had been a real wolf? I had a real, mental image of his mother in a field being raped by a wild and passionate dog. (My understanding of genetics was also weak enough that I believed if a women had sex with a dog, or a wolf, she could really conceive a child that way.) Well, the pagan wolf god thing all made sense! That would explain his eyes and the strange, magical spell he had on me. That would also explain why he never wanted to talk about his father and said he didn't have one. It all fit together in my young mind! I'm not saying that I actually believed that, even then, but when you're a kid you've got this imagination to wonder and sometimes think of weird things and if they might be true. Now, I recognize the reality of Kuvae's situation was much deeper. The reason Kuvae never wanted to talk about his father was this: it bothered him more than he wanted anyone to know. Kuvae missed having a dad, he felt that painfully, every day, but he never wanted anyone to know. That's why he always pushed it aside. In his mind it was easier to believe he'd never had a father than it was to accept that there was a man out there who had rejected him at birth and abandoned him and his mother. It was his way of dealing with it; he just tuned it out. But all boys need to be loved, and boys without fathers want a man to love them. Kuvae needed that. The feeling was there inside him, and eventually it came out. --- Catty-cornered across the street from me lived a man I'll call Mr. Jimenez. Mr. Jimenez was an interesting guy. He was Hispanic, Mexican originally. He worked as a P.E. coach at a local middle school (not ours) and he also taught history and social studies classes. His English was impeccable, when he wanted it to be. When he was teaching and formal he sounded like Edward James Olmos in "Stand and Deliver," but around the neighborhood, being casual, or if he got emotional about something, a little hint of the barrio would slip in and he sounded more like "Machete;" one tough-ass Mexican. He was a good-looking man, probably around 32-years old, with long, straight, black hair that he often wore with a headband in a sort of Native-American style. He was, I suppose, a bit of a hippy. He seemed to either have some Native-American heritage or maybe he was just a Mexican from out west who had adopted a lot of that culture. He was a big physical fitness buff. In his garage, he had set up a small, private gym and frequently worked out there with the garage door open, so we all knew he pressed weights a lot and sometimes us neighborhood boys would gather and watch. He always seemed happy to show us stuff and encouraged all of us boys to pursue better physical fitness and exercise. Since he frequently went around shirtless (again, this is Florida) the fact that he was ripped was pretty obvious to everyone and made you want to consider working out like he did. My mom often wondered aloud why a rugged, good looking man like him hadn't found a girl to settle down with yet. She didn't know... back then nobody knew... but Mr. Jimenez was not into girls. I'm not saying he was actually gay, but I would come to realize he wasn't exactly textbook "straight" either. I don't think he liked "men," I think he liked boys, but back then, I didn't know that. All I knew was, I never saw him with any girls, or any adult male friends. But then I started seeing him with Kuvae. The first time I just happened to see Kuvae across the street on his bike talking to Mr. Jimenez. Then Mr. Jimenez took him into the garage and demonstrated his work out equipment. I saw them together again from time to time after that. Kuvae's bike would be lying in Mr. Jimenez's driveway, the garage door open and Kuvae would be on the bench press lifting weights with Mr. Jimenez spotting him. I thought that was very cool, that Mr. Jimenez was showing him how to work out with weights. No surprise that an athletic boy like Kuvae was interested in weight training, and with Mr. Jimenez being a boys' gym teacher, he was the perfect person to show a boy with no dad how to do it. Kuvae and I would have both been 14-years-old by this point and that summer it would have been about two-years since Kuvae had moved in. That summer I saw Kuvae mowing Mr. Jimenez's lawn. That was odd only because Mr. Jimenez always mowed his own lawn, but not otherwise strange. Lots of boys in Florida mow lawns as a summer job to earn money. I did it and I remember wishing Mr. Jimenez had told me he wanted someone to mow his yard since I lived right across the street from him and could use the money. Then again, this did give me a ringside seat to watch Kuvae out sweating in all his shirtless glory, something that still turned me on greatly even if I didn't want to admit it. Florida summers are always hot and humid and Kuvae had his shirt off pretty much every time he mowed Mr. Jimenez's lawn. All summer, all he wore were very short shorts and sneakers. I loved watching him push the mower around and I would stay in my house and just watch him mowing, without him knowing. It was also clear that through exercise, activity and adolescent development Kuvae was gaining definition. His smooth, hairless chest was starting to show some shape. The boy had the beginnings of visible pectorals and a baby six pack of abs just starting to emerge. He was still boyish, all smooth and hairless, but also very lithe and sinewy. It just made him hotter to look at and my hormones took notice. My fantasies frequently featured Kuvae, although I knew there was no chance of them being real. Kuvae was already into girls, and everyone knew it. And the girls were very into Kuvae! I had no chance. After several weeks, I didn't think much about Kuvae mowing my neighbor's yard, except I thought it would be nice sometime to maybe hang out with Kuvae afterward. One day I decided to go over and talk with him when he was done. I watched him as he got near the end. Mr. Jimenez came out and brought him a drink as he finished. Kuvae drank it and then Mr. Jimenez put his arm around Kuvae's shoulders and led him toward the garage. Kuvae went straight to the weight bench and lay down, grabbing the bar that had been set up for him already and positioning himself to work out. That's when Mr. Jimenez pulled the garage door down and closed it. For some reason that struck me as odd. It was a very hot day and I knew the garage was not air conditioned. I wondered why he'd done that, and my first thought was they'd seen me watching. Maybe Kuvae didn't want to work out with anyone watching? I waited for them to finish but didn't see Kuvae come out for nearly an hour. When he did come out it was by way of the front door, not the garage, and he had put a shirt on. A few moments after that he rode off on his bike and Mr. Jimenez opened the garage door. I thought they must have been really hot if they had been working out in the garage all that time, but they didn't look hot. In fact, they looked very cool and clean. The next time I ran into Kuvae I told him I'd seen him at my neighbor's. "Yeah, he pays me like $15 to mow his yard," Kuvae said. "Oh, that's cool," I said. "Most of the jobs I do I only get like $8 or $10." Sometime after that my mom asked me to get something from Mr. Jimenez. I don't remember what, a tool or something she needed to borrow. Anyway, I found myself visiting my neighbor to get something. The garage door was up so I went into the garage and knocked on the door that led to the house. Why the garage and not the front door? At the time I was growing up, in my neighborhood, if someone was home the big garage door was almost always left open and you didn't knock on the front door unless you were someone important, like the mailman or a salesman or someone special like that. Friends, neighbors and neighbor kids always knocked on the door in the garage. I never thought about it, that's just what we did. So, I knocked and as I waited for him to answer, looked around the garage. Mr. Jimenez had a nice little set-up. There was the weight bench and free weights, but also a speed boxing bag he had hung out there. There was also a big heavy punching bag, an iron chin up bar, something with handles and springs for exercising your chest and quite a few copies of fitness magazines lying about or sitting in stacks. The magazines caught my eye. They were all magazines like "Muscle Builder" and "Tomorrow's Man," each with a cover of some muscular, bare chested man showing off his pecs or biceps. As I looked at these half naked, brawny men, some part of my still developing adolescent brain twitched, causing my dick to do the same. I picked one up that was close to me, featuring a particularly good looking guy showing off his very well proportioned muscled form and wearing only a little speedo-type body builder's briefs. His briefs were so snug I could make out the shape of his dick and got an instant boner looking at it. As my boy part began to swell uncomfortably in my tight shorts I reached down to adjust myself and, of course, that's when the door opened and there was Mr. Jimenez. "Hey," he said. "Hey," I answered, promptly placing the magazine back where I'd found it while still casually trying to finish adjusting my dick in my pants. His eyes flicked down at my hand grabbing myself for just a moment, but didn't say anything. I told him what I was there for and he invited me into his house while he went to get it. His house was air conditioned so it was cool (physically) and had a lot of neat stuff. It was very hippy-60's with black lights and glow in the dark paintings, a cool turntable and stereo system set up on wood boards and cinderblocks. There was a lot of artwork; some Native American, some Greek and Roman. I noticed some of the old paintings and saw that some of them appeared to have images of nude boys running around or swimming or posing. Nothing remotely pornographic - not at all; just a few Greco-Roman and Renaissance era paintings including a Caravaggio of cupid that showed all this uncut, naked boy's little naughty bits dangling there in the center of the picture. There were also a few small statues around, reproductions of ancient Greek statues. One was of two nude men wrestling and you could see everything. Another was showing a naked man and two naked boys, a father and his sons I imagined, struggling against a snake that seemed to be attacking them. (The statues were small reproductions of "The Wrestlers" and of "Laocoon and his Sons," if you want to look them up.) I remember them well because all were nude and you could see each boy's penis, as well as the dad. I was too young to appreciate art for art's sake. All my adolescent mind saw were naked men and boys and my dick stayed hard in my shorts. Mr. Jimenez came back with what I'd been sent to get and saw me. "You like the statues?" he said, having seen me staring at them. "Yeah, they're... interesting," I said, trying to act like it was not a big deal. "The Greeks valued youth and beauty of the male form. They thought the male form was at least as beautiful as the female form, maybe even more so." I looked at the statues. "Cool." He looked me over and smiled. "You sure have grown a lot in the last year," he commented. "Thanks," I said. At the time, I assumed he was referring to my height, although I hadn't really gained much at that point. Later, thinking about the way he'd caught me adjusting myself and the obvious erection I was showing, I wasn't so sure it was my height he'd been commenting about. "Hombre joven. You look great. You're a young man now," he added. I wasn't sure what to say, but I managed to thank him for the compliment and for what he'd brought me. I was about to leave when he mentioned I should consider working out and take up body building. He'd be happy to coach me, if I wanted. And that reminded me... I mentioned that I had seen my friend Kuvae mowing his lawn. I said that, if Kuvae was unavailable, he might consider me to do it sometime, since I lived across the street. Mr. Jimenez said he'd love to, but that he had a special arrangement with Kuvae. He didn't actually pay him in cash, he said. They had worked out a barter deal in which he was helping Kuvae with physical training, working out with him in exchange for getting his lawn cut. He said he was really just doing a favor for Kuvae since he could cut his own lawn. If Kuvae wasn't available he'd just mow it himself. That made sense. He was doing it as a favor to help a kid out. I went home and that would have been it, except, for some reason it later hit me that he and Kuvae had told me different stories, and when I realized it, it started to bug me. I don't know why, but it did. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed odd. Maybe Kuvae just didn't want me to know he wasn't getting paid? I can't explain it, but it began to gnaw at me. Something didn't seem right. All at once, like an epiphany, suddenly it just hit me and I just knew... they were lying. I don't know why I jumped to that conclusion, but I just did. And I just knew it, and I could feel they were lying to hide something, and I had no idea what. The brain works in funny ways, but with so little information, I just had this insight and I knew I was right. But why were they lying about that? What did it matter? Were they really doing something else, something they felt they had to lie about? Knowing what a hippy Mr. Jimenez was I wondered if he and Kuvae were secretly doing drugs. It was not so unusual, at that time and place, for 14- year-olds growing up in South Florida to smoke weed. I actually knew several kids who smoked. Maybe Kuvae and Mr. Jimenez just did the exercise and "work out" thing as a cover, but then they were smoking weed together, that's why they closed the garage door so no one would see them. I didn't know why, and I couldn't really be sure, I guess, but I had this feeling that I had been lied to by two people who I thought should be able to trust me. I felt left out. I wanted to get in on whatever they were doing or at least let them know they could trust me. So, I decided to find out. The next time Kuvae mowed Mr. Jimenez's lawn I watched him from my house and waited. There was beautiful Kuvae, shirtless as always and wearing just tight, cut off shorts and sneakers. I sat alone in my room and just watched and played with myself, rubbing my dick as I watched Kuvae striding back and forth across the yard, his youthful muscles ripped and ripe. I worked myself up to the edge, but didn't let myself cum (I was "edging" before I knew there was a name for it). Soon, he was done with the yard and I was teased to the brink. When Kuvae finished, Mr. Jimenez lead him into the garage and just like before, pulled the large garage door closed. Was it just my imagination or had he looked around first to make sure no one was watching? When the garage door closed, I made my move and went across the street. Mr. Jimenez's backyard was surrounded by a tall wooden privacy fence that started parallel with the front of his house. There was a gate. I knew his back yard. I quietly let myself in. There were two places you could see into the garage, the door that led from the garage to the back yard, and a jalousie window on the side. I went for the window. It had been about five minutes since they'd closed the garage door. I listened and heard them talking inside. "That's good, Kuvae. Very nice. Excellent. You're getting really good at this." I leaned forward until I was just peering in the corner of the window. There was Kuvae on the bench, pressing iron, with Mr. Jimenez above, spotting him. "Count it down. Five... Four... Three... Two... One!" Kuvae did them all, then did one more. Although clearly struggling he pushed it up enough and Mr. Jimenez took the bar from him and put it in the resting brackets. "Excellent, Kuvae, very nice." Kuvae sat up on the bench, winded. Well, there you go, I thought. They were just working out like Mr. Jimenez had said and I was clearly a stupid kid with an overactive imagination. End of story. Mr. Jimenez sat on the bench beside Kuvae, placed his hand on the boy's bare leg and rubbed it. "You're doin' great kid, workin' hard and it's showin'." Then he reached an arm around Kuvae's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "You good, boy?" "Yes, sir," Kuvae nodded. Mr. Jimenez rubbed Kuvae's shoulders and playfully mussed up his hair. "I'm very proud of you. You worked hard at that." "Thank you, sir." Then he tilted his head down and kissed Kuvae on the top of his head. With one arm around his shoulders, I could see Mr. Jimenez move his other hand until he was rubbing it over Kuvae's bare chest, massaging it. "Look at you," he said. And then his hand went lower, down over Kuveee's stomach. 'I guess he's checking out how Kuvae's abs are developing,' I thought to myself. Then his hand went lower, down to Kuvae's shorts and slipped his fingers under the waist band and inside Kuvae's pants. Kuvae sighed. I was so in shock, it took a moment to realize Mr. Jimenez had put his hand on my friend's dick. Kuvae turned his head toward him but since I couldn't see his face I didn't know what his expression was. Then Kuvae took Mr. Jimenez's hand out of his shorts. He lifted the man's hand to his face, and licked Mr. Jimenez's palm. "Ohh, damn.... drive me crazy doing that, boy!" He kissed Kuvae on the forehead, then Mr. Jimenez said, "Let's grab a shower." He led Kuvae into the house. Behind the privacy fence in Mr. Jimenez's back yard I sat alone, taking in what I'd just seen. Out of sight from the rest of the world, I quietly pulled my dick out of my pants and masturbated. Within seconds I shot my boy seed down the side of Mr. Jimenez's garage wall. Then, I went home and cried. Part 3 - Conflicts and Resolutions In the days that followed I walked around feeling like I was holding the biggest secret in the world inside of me. Half of each day was spent jerking off as I imagined Kuvae and Mr. Jimenez, the two hottest hunks I knew, naked together in the shower. The other half was spent feeling horrible and guilty for having those sinful thoughts. I was torn between whether I should keep this a secret or tell someone what I'd seen. The real problem, of course, was that I was a 14-year-old gay boy who had not come out yet, not even to himself. And this was at a time and in a place when being gay was in no way acceptable. There were no legitimate gay characters on TV or in movies and I didn't actually know anyone who was gay (or so I thought). Yeah, there were "swishy" characters and effeminate men that everyone made jokes about and called fags, but I didn't know any respectable person who was a homosexual. My conflict at being attracted to guys was now tearing me apart and I was ultimately being forced to come to grips with a fact I could no longer deny; I was sexually attracted to guys, and not girls, and I hated myself for that. Worst of all, I was sexually attracted to BOTH Kuvae and Mr. Jimenez and although I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, my hard, teen-cock reminded me of the truth every time I thought about those guys and what I now knew, and also imagined, they were doing together. Now I paid more attention when Kuvae would come by and see Mr. Jimenez on days other than when he mowed the lawn. Kuvae would work out in the garage, then Mr. Jimenez would close the door. And I knew why. I avoided Kuvae. I didn't know what I would say to him. One day I accidentally ran into him playing soccer with some other boys. Always friendly, and unaware of what I had seen, he said hi to me and joked about having not seen me around. "What's up with you?" he asked. I couldn't even look him in the eye. He must have thought I was mad at him, but I was afraid if he looked at me with those piercing eyes of his, he would know, just know somehow, what I had seen. Instead I just bolted, rushed off without saying a word to him. He must have thought I was mad at him about something. The problem wasn't Kuvae, of course, or Mr. Jimenez, or even them together. The problem was me. I was fighting to save my soul from a life of sin. Of course, I failed, spectacularly. My horny cock had the head that began doing the thinking for what I did next. All I knew was, I wanted to play around with them. I wanted to do whatever they were doing together. It was this situation that finally forced me to confront myself in life. I could no longer deny what I wanted. I wanted to have sex with guys. I wanted to have sex with THEM. And so it came to be that one hot summer afternoon in 1976, in south Florida, I finally gave in and embraced who I really was and what I really wanted. It was the summer of the United States bicentennial, and I had a few major fireworks of my own that summer. The next time Kuvae mowed Mr. Jimenez? lawn I once again watched from across the street. This time I knew what I wanted. I watched Kuvae, just as I had many times before. I was shaking all over. Kuvae finished the yard and put away the mower. Mr. Jimenez met him in the garage with a drink as Kuvae began working out. I watched how Mr. Jimenez coached him through it, now more conscious than ever of the intimate way the man interacted with the boy, touching him freely, though discreetly. Then he closed the garage door. I waited a bit, then went across the street. Dressed in just a white tank top, cut off denim jean shorts (that were a bit too tight) and a pair of deck shoes (slip on sneakers) I slipped quietly into the back yard and entered the garage from the back door. As I expected they had already gone inside. From inside the garage I knocked on the door to the house. When no one answered, I knocked louder. Still nothing. I kept doing it, knocking louder and longer until anyone inside would know I wasn't going away. Finally, I heard movement on the other side. The door unlocked and opened just a crack, enough for Mr. Jimenez to peer around and see who was there. "Hey," I said. "Hey yourself," he answered, looking unhappy to find a neighbor boy interrupting his shower. "What's can I do for you?" he asked. "Can I come in?" "Not really a good time right now. What's up?" Even though I'd practiced what I was going to say in my head, it took a moment to get up the guts. Eventually, I just said it. "I want to do what you and Kuvae are doing." An awkward moment of silence followed. "What would that be?" Mr. Jimenez finally asked. I looked down at my feet, shrugged. "You know," I answered. "You wanna start weight training?" he asked. "No," I answered. Silence. "So, what do you wanna do?" This time I looked up and looked him right in the eye. "You know." There was another awkward pause but this was different. This time he could tell... I knew. For what felt like an eternity he didn't say anything, just looked at me, trying, I guess, to figure out what to do. He knew, I knew. Now what? Finally, I asked again, "Can I come in?" Mr. Jimenez thought about it, then at last he opened the door just a bit wider and gestured toward his living room. "I guess so," he reluctantly conceded. I walked into the house. He closed the door behind me. When I turned back I could see Mr. Jimenez was wearing a terry-cloth bath robe loosely tied around his waist. His hair was damp. I also saw Kuvae's clothes, his shorts, underwear and shoes, in a small pile on the floor. Mr. Jimenez? clothes were beside them where they had both stripped when they had entered the house. "Have a seat," he said and indicated a spot on the living room couch. The house wasn't big and had the same floor plan as every other house in the neighborhood. From the living room you could look down the short hallway. Mr. Jimenez walked to the bathroom door and knocked. "Hey Kuvae, we got a visitor. Come on out." When there was no immediate answer he opened the door. "Kuvae, come on," he continued and beckoned Kuvae to come out. "It's okay. I think he's a friend," he added, although Kuvae still didn't emerge. "Don't worry about it, you'll be fine, just... come on out." A moment later, Kuvae sheepishly emerged from the bathroom. He was wet and dripping and all he had on was a towel around his waist. He looked over at me, with those steel eyes, and saw me sitting on the couch. He didn't look happy. Mr. Jimenez strode back into the living room as if he were in complete control of the situation. "Come on," he said, urging Kuvae once more to follow him. Mr. Jimenez sat down in a chair across from the couch. Kuvae came in reluctantly and just stood there. "Si'down," Mr. Jimenez said, telling Kuvae to "sit down" as if it were a single word. Hesitantly, Kuvae finally sat on the only seat available, the spot next to me on the couch. "You two know each other, right? Good friends? Es‚?" Mr. Jimenez? words were less formal now, more "Machete," a sure sign he was pissed off. I shook my head. "Just... friends." "Yeah? You're not his little pollito?" Mr. Jimenez said to me. I shook my head, I was nobody's "little chicken." Then he addressed Kuvae. "Mi vecino here says he wants to do what we've been doing but he don't mean working out. What you been tellin' him, mestizo? " Even with his limited Spanish Kuvae knew mestizo meant someone of mixed parents. Boys in the neighborhood would call him that sometimes. Sometimes they said it to be mean, mostly it was in a friendly way. He had never seemed to be bothered by it but I was surprised Mr. Jimenez called him that. Clearly, he thought Kuvae had told me something, and was pissed at Kuvae. "He didn't say anything," I cut in, not wanting Kuvae to take heat for something he didn't do. "I just... I figured it out." "­No me jodas!" Mr. Jimenez muttered, clearly not believing me. "Tell papi what you figured out, pollito?" He leaned back in his chair spreading his legs and causing his bathrobe to open a bit. It was enough that I could see an impressive, naked man cock under there, thick and dark, and I found myself staring. "What do you think we're doing?" "Messin' around," I said. Mr. Jimenez adjusted himself. I watched his cock swell a bit. "I wanna do stuff too," I added. Mr. Jimenez looked to the boy beside me. "What do you think, Kuvae?" Kuvae looked over at me, clearly uncertain. And then, as he looked at me, he got this wicked glint in his eyes, the same look I'd seen before; the look of the wolf considering a sheep he plans to devour. It gave me that funny feeling in my groin. Kuvae smiled. "Can he be mine?" Kuvae asked. I didn't know what he meant. Mr. Jimenez looked from Kuvae to me. "You want him?" Mr. Jimenez asked Kuvae. "Yeah," Kuvae answered. "Sure," Mr. Jimenez finally said, addressing Kuvae's apparent interest. "I'm bettin' that's what chico here really wants anyway." "Wait, what? What do I really want?" I asked. Even as I looked back at Mr. Jimenez my eyes couldn't help drifting down and looking at his slightly exposed dick as it hung only partially hidden by his robe. "Well, from the way you keep eyeing mi verga, I think what you really want is to suck a nice, big man cock," he said flatly. I tore my eyes from Mr. Jimenez? dick and looked up at his face. He wasn't insulting me. Just stating a fact. "Or maybe you wanna get fucked? That what you want, boy? You look fuckable. Yeah, I've seen you. You're a horny little piss toad. You'd get on your knees and beg to suck mestizo's dick if you got a chance, wouldn't you?" I couldn't tell if he was pissed or trying to turn me on, or both, but he was definitely turning me on with all this dirty talk. And yeah, he was right. That's what I wanted. I was a horny gay teen lusting for a chance to be someone's submissive boy. He knew it, even if I didn't. "So we can trust you?" Mr. Jimenez asked me. "Yes, sir," I answered. "You do as you're told?" he asked me. "Yes, sir," I answered again. "Okay then, " he said. "Get naked, kid." I just looked at him, then over at Kuvae. "You want it? You get naked, boy. Right now! Do it now, or get the fuck out of my house and stop wasting my time." I stood up slowly, slipped off my deck shoes, one at a time and kicked them aside. Again, I glanced at Kuvae, who was watching me strip with a silent intensity. Nervously, shaking, I pulled my tank-top over my head, revealing a smooth, undeveloped adolescent boy's chest. I put my shirt on the couch, then started to undo the snap on my cutoff jeans. As I undressed, Mr. Jimenez parted his robe, reached down and began openly stroking his cock as he watched my little striptease. I could see him growing hard. He watched attentively, glanced at Kuvae, then back to me, all while playing with himself. Kuvae watched me like a hungry wolf, but didn't make a move. I pushed down my cutoff shorts... laid them on the couch. There I was in my white BVDs for a moment. They did little to hide my erection but at least I was one piece shy of being naked. I shook nervously. "Relax, chico" Mr. Jimenez said, "Here." Then he stood up, took a step toward me and just shrugged off his robe. It fell to the floor revealing his full, naked body. I sucked in a breath in excitement. My handsome, muscular neighbor was now fully nude and standing right in front of me. He spread his hands to his sides, "Just us guys, see? Like takin' a shower in gym. No big deal." It was a big deal to me. I'd dreamed of this. Mr. Jimenez had such an amazing body, sculpted and muscular, not an ounce of fat, just perfect. He also had what was, to my eyes, an impressive, man sized tool between his legs. Hard, he was about 6-and-a-half inches long with a moderate girth. That was big compared to my boyish dick. Like most Hispanic guys he was uncut, just like me. I looked over at Kuvae. He was watching me, waiting. "Let me help," Mr. Jimenez said. He stepped up to me, took hold of my underwear and pulled them down my legs. My adolescent dick sprung up and slapped my stomach, my uncut 4-and- a-half inches standing rigid. My cock would still grow a bit in the years ahead, but even as an adult I have never been the biggest guy in the room. My cock is average or, if I'm honest, maybe a bit below average. I don't care. I'm fine with what I've got, never had any complaints and don't care what others have, but yeah, I'm no porn star and I certainly wasn't then. I was an average-size boy at age 14 and I had an average, teen boy size dick with a modest bush of dark hair above it. Mr. Jimenez smiled, "Nice." He could tell I was nervous. "It's okay, chico" he said, and took me into his strong arms, pulling our naked bodies together in my first naked "bare-hug." I felt my smooth flesh pressed against the naked body of this handsome man. I closed my eyes and melted into his embrace. There's nothing like a loving, naked hug between a man and a boy. Especially when you're the boy and it's the first intimate male contact you've ever known. 'This is what I've been missing,' I thought. My own father never hugged me, it just wasn't his way. Having a man as strong, powerful and handsome as Mr. Jimenez take me naked in his arms and embrace me like a son was one of the most beautiful experiences of my young life. Until that moment, I didn't realize how much I needed the naked embrace of a man. I didn't hold back. I hugged him in return, even as I felt my cock press against his. It was an amazing feeling to experience that for the first time, my boyish dick rubbing against a man's naked cock. He held me, and hugged me, in a very loving way, as if hugging naked was the most normal thing two guys could to do. "Kuvae," he said, "Come 'ere." Kuvae was still sitting on the couch, watching us. He hadn't moved and even when Mr. Jimenez called him to join us, he didn't stand up. Mr. Jimenez gestured to him, with a sweep of his arm, "Mijo..." he beckoned. Kuvae stood up, reluctantly, and moved toward us. When he was close enough, Mr. Jimenez pulled him into our group hug. He kissed Kuvae on the top of his head. Then again on his forehead. Then he kissed his cheek, his neck, and finally... his lips. Kuvae closed his eyes as Mr. Jimenez pulled him closer and they kissed deeply. It was a sight that caused my already throbbing cock to twitch. When their lips parted, a soft whisper of "...papi..." was all Kuvae said. The boy laid his head on the strong man's shoulder, hugging him, as I had my cheek pressed to the man's chest. Kuvae still had his towel on. Mr. Jimenez reached down and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor. The three of us stood together in a naked embrace. One strong, naked man with arms wrapped around two naked, teen boys. "Hermanos desnudos," Mr. Jimenez said. Brothers, he called us. Naked brothers. That was the first time I got to see my sweet wolf boy fully naked. Nothing disappointed. To this day I grow excited thinking about it. Kuvae's naked teen body was so beautiful. He was just, in my eyes, perfect; a flawless adolescent boy in bloom. His body was smooth, devoid of all hair except for those sandy blond strands on his head, under his arms and above his cock. His developing muscles were already showing shape and contour and his hips cut into a perfect V-shape that pointed like an arrow at his very impressive dick. Kuvae's dick was the biggest in the room, by far, and it was as smooth and silky as the rest of him. His cock was both boyish and manly at the same time. No veins marred its perfect surface. His long, uncut (European) member was wrapped in a rich, bronze sheath of velvet boy flesh that smoothly drew down just far enough for the skin to cover the ring around his cock head while leaving most of the glans exposed. He was not even fully erect, but he was bigger than we were. His beautiful boy-flesh hung heavily under its own weight; long, thick and pendulous. At 14, Kuvae was easily the most well-endowed among the three of us; way more than me and even more than Mr. Jimenez. His cock was even more impressive than I had imagined it would be. Watching it sway heavily in his soccer pants as he ran down the field, I'd known he was an extremely well-endowed boy, but it was more than that. It was beautiful to behold and even thicker than it had felt pressed against me when he'd pinned me to the bed a year earlier. I felt a hunger I had never known. By instinct, I wanted to drop to my knees and worship this beautiful boy dick and let him use me in any way he wanted. Mr. Jimenez was right. I wanted to taste it, lick it and suck it, things I'd never done before. I was a natural born sub. Without words Mr. Jimenez gently moved me back until I was sitting on the couch. He put an arm around Kuvae's waist and moved him into position in front of me. My wolf boy's velvet cock was now dangling inches from my face. "Tącalo," Mr. Jimenez gently told me, urging me to touch Kuvae's cock. "Tącalo, ver s qu‚ suave," ("Touch it, feel how soft it is.") I reached out and took Kuvae's beautiful cock in my hand. His skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. Kuvae smiled and let out a small sound of pleasure at my touch. I felt it, stroked it, studied it. This was what I had wanted my whole life but never knew it. I wanted to feel another guy's dick in my hand, explore it in every way, and now I was. I skinned it back, fully exposing his head, letting his cock be as naked as the rest of him. He had just washed, you could tell. Fresh from the shower Kuvae smelled clean, like soap and shampoo. My mouth watered. I cupped his heavy balls and felt along his hairless sack but couldn't stop gazing at his luscious shaft. I felt my mouth hunger for the taste of it, a truly forbidden fruit I'd never known. "Chuparlo," Mr. Jimenez said to me gently. "Suck it. Go on, boy, do it. He wants it too, don't you Kuvae." Kuvae, my beautiful wolf boy, looked down at me. His piercing eyes burned. With one hand he took me by the hair on my head, with the other he grasp my chin. He pulled me firmly, but gently, toward his still soft, dangling cock. Raging teen hormones were fucking with his mind and horny lust was stoking the fire in his loins, he looked ready to eat me, or in this case, make me eat him. I wanted that. I had no sexual experience but I knew I had a raw carnal desire for the handsome man-boy in front of me. I wanted to submit to him in every way. "Suck it," Kuvae ordered, firmly, his voice soft but his tone commanding. I moved to fulfill a long held fantasy and slipped Kuvae's beautiful, soft, heavy cock into my eager young mouth. Mr. Jimenez went wild. "Oh yeah, that's good. That's a good boy, suck that cock... You want it, do it, suck it. Suck him good," Mr. Jimenez urged. Mr. Jimenez flowed with a constant, gentle stream of words urging both Kuvae and me to do stuff. I later realized his big turn-on was watching two horny, teen boys do whatever he told them to do. I began gently licking and sucking on the sweet, smooth velvet cock in my mouth. Kuvae's dick was thick and heavy, but remained soft. My own boyhood stuck out from between my legs like a flagpole on the side of a building. I was bursting at the loins, my hard boy dick dripping as I sat on the couch. Mr. Jimenez' man-cock was also hard as a rock. His looked like a bat that could smash a baseball over the fence in right field. But Kuvae, horny and aching to cum as he was, remained soft. I closed my eyes, savoring the delicious taste, as much as the idea, of this beautiful teen stud's thick cock in my mouth. "Mamalo, si... suck that big dick, little brother," Mr. Jimenez continued, using dirty words from English and Spanish. I was an inexperienced cock sucker with no idea what I was doing. I'd never had a dick in my mouth before. In fact, I had never even had my own dick sucked. "Do what I do," Mr. Jimenez, the teacher, said. As if sensing my inexperience, he knelt down and took my dick in his hand. First, he licked my balls, then he began sucking my cock. "Uuuuuuuummmmmm," I moaned around Kuvae's sizeable cock, or at least as much as I could take. The boy had a lot more meat on him than my untrained mouth could hold. Mr. Jimenez, however, was a pro. The man had a lot of practice and no restraint. He devoured my tender virgin meat, savoring my inexperience with a sensual delight and a reckless disregard for my ability to handle it. I moaned, groaned and bucked my hips, sliding forward on the couch until my knees were touching the floor. I was kneeling now, worshipping at the altar of Kuvae's luscious cock, enduring the torturous pleasure of feeling my first blow job, while at the same time trying to mimic his actions on the delicious boy cock filling my own mouth. Somehow it felt right to be on my knees. Mr. Jimenez's hands caressed sensually up and down my body, over my ass and between my inner thighs, while my dick was inside his warm, wet mouth. I could feel his tongue playing games over and around the head of my dick, sneaking under my foreskin to tease and play before darting out once more to lick and suckle, even as his hands roamed over my butt and caressed my cheeks. For a boy who'd only known the feel of his own hand, it was almost too much to take. I mirrored his actions as Kuvae began to rock and slowly fuck my mouth. With only half of Kuvae's impressive member able to fit in my mouth, I took hold of it with my hand and began slowly jerking him off as I sucked him while fondling his heavy hanging balls Kuvae moaned in a way that told me he liked what he was feeling and wanted more, and yet, he still didn't get hard! Kuvae's big and beautiful dick continued to fill my mouth, heavy, but limp. "Let me get that boy up and running for you," Mr. Jimenez said, dislodging his mouth from my modest young dick. As Kuvae rocked his hips in a slow-motion fucking of my mouth, Mr. Jimenez got on his knees behind him. He spread Kuvae's soft butt cheeks and pushed his tongue deeply between them. "Ooohhhhh," Kuvae whimpered as Mr. Jimenez began rimming him. All of this was happening so fast I could barely fathom what was going on. Part of me was shocked and disgusted. I couldn't believe my neighbor was licking a boy's butt hole! That seemed gross, but I realized they had both just come out of the shower. I figured Mr. Jimenez had made sure Kuvae was very clean back there before doing this. In any case, I didn't have much time to think about it as Kuvae, in response to this new stimulation, began thrusting his cock in my mouth with increased vigor. It was clear they had done this before. Mr. Jiminez knew exactly how to get the strongest reaction from his boy. Suddenly Kuvae grabbed my head harder, pushing me into him, taking charge of me like I was his property to use. "Ooohhh yeah, fucking take it.... take it all, Marcos! Swallow it!" he yelled. His cock grew harder now and I could taste something. Something new and exciting. With increased arousal, I realized I was tasting Kuvae's precum. I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth now, responding to Papi's rimming. He was getting hard now. Really hard. Suddenly Kuvae growled, a low guttural moan, in response to the oncoming rush of orgasm. "Ohhh yeah, gotta nut cummin'... gonnna fuckin' sperm your mouth!" Kuvae shouted. Mr. Jimenez stopped his rimming. With one hand he reached around, grabbed Kuvae's balls, fondling them. "Yeah, give it to him boy, show Papi what a man you are. Feed him your nut, son." With his other hand Mr. Jimenez slid a finger along Kuvae's butt hole, ticking him. Kuvae went wild, practically screamed a deep, masculine roar as he grabbed my head and slammed himself into me, pushing his cock so deep I was about to choke and gag. I literally almost couldn't take it anymore. My mouth ached from the huge and growing cock repeatedly, and violently, shoved between my lips. Kuvae grabbed me by the hair on my head and pulled me toward him with a powerful grip I couldn't break. "Good boy," Mr. Jimenez shouted at Kuvae. "Fuck him, son. Fuck that boy's mouth. Show Papi what a big man you are, boy!" Kuvae's eyes were closed tightly, his face a torn expression of anguish and ecstasy. Mr. JImenez's words seemed to be the breaking point that finally pushed him over some erotic edge of sanity. "Ohhhh, yeah!" he cried. Kuvae seemed to break open and spill himself, emotionally and physically. As the boy cried out in a tortured shout of elation I was suddenly drowning in wolf-boy juice! My mouth flooded and I swallowed as much as I could but I had never experienced this before, wasn't prepared for it, didn't know what to do and it was just way, way too much! I swallowed all I could handle but cum still flowed from the corners of my mouth. I couldn't breathe and I struggled to push Kuvae away, desperate to gain some air. The powerful boy held me so tightly, I couldn't get loose. Finally, I think some part of Kuvae's mind cleared enough that he realized I was drowning. He let go and pulled back but he was not finished yet. His cock, still cumming, slid from my mouth as the muscular boy grabbed my head with one hand and grasped his hard tool in the other, pumping it and aiming more volleys of his teen spunk all over my face, my chest, my hair, everywhere, even as more of his seed dripped from the corners of my mouth. He was deliberately coating me, marking me as his property. "Fuck yeah!!" Mr. Jimenez shouted as Kuvae painted me with his seed. I was quickly drenched in Kuvae's wild, white splatter. At the end, the boy whimpered and came down from his orgasmic high. I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my own cock and began pumping furiously. Mr. Jimenz moved over, took my head in his hands and licked Kuvae's jizz off my face! He started running his tongue over me, up and down across my face, then chest, lapping up Kuvae's spilled seed from my naked boy body. Finally, he pushed my hand aside and settled his mouth onto my cock to finish me off while jerking himself. I was on my knees as he pushed me back against the edge of the couch and positioned himself in front of me with his knees on the floor and his elbows on the couch, practically on all fours. He sucked me valiantly, moving his head up and down, then reached one hand down to grip my cock while he used the other to grab himself and pump his own man meat. Kuvae was still standing in front of me dripping and I took his dick in my hand and licked the tip of his softening cock as my climax approached. It took just seconds for me to cum as Mr. Jimenez's expert mouth took me over the edge. I pushed my hips deeper and higher into his mouth as the handsome man drained my balls without spilling a drop. I guess the taste of my virgin spunk put Mr. Jimenez over the edge. He jerked himself off and mere moments after swallowing my boy juice I watched him cum, pumping his manly load all over his living room carpet. Exhausted, the three of us collapsed onto the couch and each other. I had gotten my wish, and this was just the beginning. Conclusion I could spend a lot of time going into the details of each event as things progressed in the days and weeks and months that followed, but as I think this has gotten long enough I'm just going to summarize the rest. Mr. Jimenez decided I was a boy that needed a good fucking. Over my next visits he slowly began training my ass, first with fingers, then with toys and lube. About a month or two after our first encounter he became the first guy ever to fuck me. Not long after that, and at my request, Kuvae also fucked me. That was what I really wanted. I think he did too. For me, taking that monster cock was like passing the ultimate fuck test. Once I'd done that, I knew I could take any man. My bottom has been hungry for cock ever since. Mr. Jimenez took Polaroids of us. Yeah, I know, right? He kept them in a shoe box in his bedroom closet. I have no idea what ever became of them but I doubt he destroyed them. Somewhere there are probably still some old 70s Polaroids of us naked 14-year-old boys. Mr. Jimenez had friends over and that's when Kuvae, sensing this was not the sincere father-son relationship he was looking for, began drifting away. The summer before high school started Kuvae's mother got her own place and they moved. He went to a different high school and I almost never saw him again. Almost. I ran into him at a football game one time, when our school played their school. He had grown and turned into one hell of a stud. There was a girl hanging on him, sexy cheerleader type. I didn't talk to him but he saw me, gave me a nod. I later heard he had a reputation for having a lot of girlfriends. No surprise. Who wouldn't want to bed down with that sexy Wolf-Boy? For a long time I didn't know what became of him after that, but years later found out he worked for a business, was married and had kids. I have no idea if his youthful experimentation with guys was just a phase or if he still secretly does stuff, but somehow I imagine he moved past it once he discovered women. I'll never know for sure. Mr. Jimenez and I continued to mess around until I got my driver's license. After that I discovered the gay scene in 70s Miami. Even as a teen, I found places to cruise and my young ass was eagerly used. As I grew older, I think Mr. Jimenez also grew less interested in me. One day he moved away. I heard he got a job with a school out west. I have no idea if it was his choice but I'm glad he moved on when he did, before anything bad came out. As for me, it may sound crazy, but I will always be grateful to him for helping me discover my sexuality. He was a good teacher to a gay boy and gave me a safe place to learn all the things a good gay bottom should know how to do! Most of all, if it weren't for him, I would never have had a chance to get fucked by the boy of my dreams, my "wolf boy," during that brief period of his life when he was willing to do it. As time has passed and I've grown older I find myself remembering the things we did together more and more excitedly and they continue to fuel my private masturbation sessions. I have nothing but good thoughts and feelings for Mr. Jimenez, wherever he may be now. He didn't make me do anything I didn't want and, actually, he gave me a chance to do things I was aching to do when no one else would. I love that man, and want him to know that. Thanks, Mr. J. ;-)