(A version of this story was posted to Nifty back in the nineties. This time, it will be expanded and completed. The name (and email) have been changed to protect the anonymity of the writer, even though none of it actually happened. This story is public domain. That means there is no copyright, and you can steal it if you like. The story is free, but Nifty needs money to stay online. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html and make a tax deductible contribution. Personally, I think deducting boyporn from your taxes is pretty amazing!)

Three Together

Part One

(By Nick)

It was a Saturday morning about two months after my divorce. My ex had the house, and I was going nuts sitting around my stinking little apartment surrounded by half-empty cartons I still hadn't finished unpacking. I had to get out.

I'm not sure what gave me the idea to go camping. Maybe they were showing "Deliverance" on TV. Anyway, I tore open some more boxes until I found my old camping gear, unused for over ten years. My ex's idea of camping was a hotel with fewer than four stars.

By noon, I was hiking along a trail into the state park, wondering if I was making a big mistake. Was sitting around a stinking little tent going to be any better than sitting around a stinking little apartment? The truth was I needed some company, someone to just hang out with. I'd needed that for months, but my married friends and the desperate women I'd been meeting in singles bars just weren't cutting it.

I pulled my map out of my pack and looked for the nearest trail shelter. You usually could count on meeting people at a shelter, and I'd probably be pretty popular. My canteen was full of scotch.

It took about three hours to get to High Top Shelter, and one look told me it wouldn't be too popular with regulars in the park. The roof had fallen in, the remaining walls were crumbling, and nobody could have used the place for two or three years. So much for company.

To make matters worse, the sky was filling with dark gray clouds. I'd be stuck in my tent in the rain, just me and my scotch. Unless I was careful, I'd be too hung over to hike out the next day. I thought about heading back to my car right then, but it was too late. Even if the rain held off, it would be dark long before I could make my way out of the woods.

With no other option I could see, I pitched my tent, started a small fire, and fried up some burger and beans. A light rain started to fall as it began to grow dark, so I crawled into my tent and had a couple of hits of scotch. It was just then that I heard the voice. It was high and clear, and it said "Oh, shit!"

Another voice joined in. "Some shelter! We're gonna get soaked."

"How was I supposed to know?" said the first. "It's a new map, but it still says there's a shelter here."

"Maybe we could rig up something with our ponchos," the other replied.

I was already pulling on my shoes. I could tell by the voices that they were just kids, boys probably. The three of us could squeeze into my little tent for the night. They'd stay dry, and I'd have my company. It might just be fun. My ex never wanted kids. Having kids, she told me, would probably ruin her figure.

"Hey, fellows," I called, "what's up? No tent?"

"We were counting on the shelter," said the taller one. Both were wearing big plastic ponchos, so I couldn't tell much about them apart from their height, but they seemed to be twelve or thirteen years old.

"Well, my tent is small, but it's dry. You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

I didn't have to ask twice. We rigged up a little vestibule from a poncho to cover most of our gear, and just took our sleeping bags, snacks, and a few essentials inside. In the light of my halogen lantern, I got my first good look at them.

Robby, the bigger one, was a very cute just-about-adolescent with floppy brown hair and the kind of cheeks old ladies love to pinch. The smaller one was named Peter. The only way I can describe him is to say he had the face of an angel. Wavy, shoulder length blond hair set off perfect dark blue eyes with long lashes my ex would have envied. His nose and mouth were perfect, and his lips seem perpetually ready to smile.

"Hey, I smell booze," said this little angel. "Got any left?"

"Plenty," I replied, "but I'd rather you didn't barf on me."

"Shit, I can hold it. Can't I, Robby?"

Robby concurred. "Usually I steal some from my mother, but she finished it all off before I could get to it this time. Don't worry, though, we won't hog it on you. It doesn't take that much to get us buzzed."

Already buzzed myself, I passed the canteen around. Each boy in turn swallowed a healthy mouthful. I had another snort, then passed it around again. We started telling stories about times we'd been roaring drunk, and I started to feel like a teenager again. After another couple of rounds, both boys were getting pretty giggly.

"A joint would be great about now," said angelic Peter. "Got any weed?"

Grass was one more thing my ex disapproved of, because it made you break your diet. "Sorry," I said, "wish I did."

"Really?" asked Robby.

"It's been a while, but I used to get high a lot," I replied truthfully.

"Well, then," said Robby, producing a neatly rolled joint and matches, "let's party."

It was good stuff, better than I remembered from the old days, and we gobbled down the food we had in short order. Between the booze and the grass and our three bodies jammed together in the small tent, I started to feel pretty warm, despite the dampness. I tried to get out of my sweatshirt, but with the close quarters and the clumsiness of being stoned, I was having a hard time.

"Come on, Robby," said Peter, "let's give him a hand." Robby seemed to think that was a very funny idea, but he helped Peter pull the sweatshirt up over my face. As Robby continued yanking on the sweatshirt, I could feel Peter open my jeans and yank them down to my knees. As I struggled out of my sleeves and lay there laughing, Peter grabbed my cuffs and pulled my jeans the rest of the way off. As he climbed back up from the foot of the tent, he gave my package a little squeeze.

"Okay," said Robby, "now let's get Peter!"

Peter pretended to struggle when I pulled him on top of me and pinned his hands. Both boys were wearing sweatsuits, so Robby had no trouble getting Peter's pants off, underwear and all. I could see Peter's tiny little hard-on sticking straight up, and somewhat to my surprise, I noticed I was half hard myself.

"You won't get my shirt," Peter shouted as he shifted in my grip and somehow got himself turned around on top of me, so that my head wound up between his legs and I was looking at the sweet white mounds of his ass sticking up and his tight little scrotum pointing down. Robby must have tickled him while trying to get the shirt off, because he suddenly jerked back and laughed as he rubbed his smooth, hairless crotch all over my face. As if it had a will of its own, my tongue popped out of my mouth and licked his hard little three-incher from its circumcised head right down and over his balls, prompting even more wiggling.

"I'll get you," Peter laughed, pushing down my underpants and sucking the end of my now raging hard-on into his deceptively angelic-looking mouth.

"Hey, save some for me," complained Robby. "I've still got all my clothes on!"

We remedied that problem immediately. Peter detatched himself from my cock and we both grabbed Robby, yanking his sweatshirt up and his sweatpants down in about three seconds. While Peter's body was delicate, Robby's was more substantial. Although hairless and circumcised like his friend's, Robby's cock was both longer and thicker, and his balls were the size of a man's. Like the cheeks of his face, the cheeks of Robby's ass made you want to pinch them or, better yet, bite into them like ripe peaches.

Peter must have been thinking along those lines too, because when Robby rolled on his stomach in a mock attempt to get away, Peter buried his angelic face right in the cleft of Robby's ass. Some wet noises and a gasp from Robby let me know that Peter's tongue was busy in Robby's asshole. Not directly engaged for the moment, I had a chance to think of how only the day before I couldn't have imagined how turned on I could get fooling around with two little boys.

"Okay," said Peter, coming up for air, "I did his hole so you can do his dick." Taking the cue, Robby rolled on his back and sort of waved his four inches at my face. It looked delicious.

It was. That throbbing hunk of boymeat was the best thing I'd ever had in my mouth, and despite my lack of experience, I seemed to have a natural talent for cocksucking. Robby let out a scream of delight, and started humping my mouth so hard he'd have choked me if he'd been any bigger. I kept my tongue moving on his cockhead, trying to give him the best orgasm he'd ever had. Reaching between his legs, I slipped a finger up his ass, which was still slick from Peter's tongue.

Noticing a change in Robby's squeals of pleasure, I peeked up and saw that Peter had seated himself on his friend's face. First his cocklet and both little balls would disappear into Robby's mouth, then he'd slide his asshole in place to be hungrily probed by his friend's tongue.

"Oh, shit," Peter cried. "I think I have to have it real soon."

"Have what?" I wondered. I soon found out.

Stage managed by Peter, we changed positions. I lay on my back, and Peter lay on top of me for a classic 69. As Peter expertly sucked my cock and I tongued his sweet little cock and balls, Robby climbed on top and pushed his own cock deep into Peter's ass. It was an amazing sensation, licking that little package while getting the best blow job of my life, and watching a young cock slide in and out of a tight little asshole about an inch in front of my nose.

I could see that Peter truly loved the feeling of a cock in his ass. Every time Robby bore down, Peter strained upward to meet the oncoming thrust. I reached up and caressed Robby's bucking ass as he fucked his friend, dipping my finger into his pulsating hole. When Robby reached down and did the same to me, I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

I exploded, shooting wad after wad into Peter's mouth, feeling Peter swallow it down as fast as I could squirt it. At the same time, I felt Robby's hole tighten around my finger as he shot his own load into Peter's ass. As my orgasm ended I just lay there, buried in boys and feeling good in every part of my body. I heard Robby sigh.

"Are you guys done already?" asked Peter. "Shit, I was just getting warmed up!"

"When you're old enough to squirt," Robby replied, "you'll feel different. We need a few minutes to relax before we can start again."

As for me, I thought I'd need more than a few minutes, but I was willing to try again just as soon as I could.

(To be continued. Your comments are welcome: heedon@tormail.org )