Date: Sun, 20 Aug 2006 19:09:03 +0000 From: Trevor Martindale Subject: Trevors Three Challenges - Part 3/3 All the usual disclaimers apply. The following story is entirely fictional and contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity between adult males and minors. READ NO FURTHER if you are under the age of eighteen or offended by such material. Trevor's Three Challenges - Part 3/3 (M+/t, Anal, Oral) By Trevor Martindale As planned, Howard and I met outside the Ben-Hur cinema the following Saturday morning. We walked to the car and talked in some detail about the condition of my `love hole', and whether it was ready to take on another gang-bang. Howard then informed me that our planned visit to the cottage was cancelled. Instead, we were off to see old Victor. The bicycle repair shop had clearly seen better days. There were no new bikes for sale and the inside of the shop was dark and dingy, and littered with dozens of dilapidated bicycles. The shop had once been owned by Otto Glaser. Unfortunately, Otto had died years ago, leaving Victor, his son, to run the business into the ground. Victor was far more interested in boys than bikes. However, he did use the business as a cover to employ Saturday boys: young lads that were paid to help out in the shop, but in reality spent their working day upstairs, posing for pornographic photographs. Victor and his friends had converted the upstairs stockroom into a studio. They would invite a boy to stand under the lights, take off his clothes and have sex with others in front of a camera. Most of the boys were recruited by Ian and Joe, who worked as carers at the local children's home. Other boys were recruited by Brian, a local scoutmaster. Victor paid me ten shillings a day to work as a Saturday boy. I would have done the job for nothing, but as Howard explained, my parents needed to be convinced that I was there to earn money, not to have sex. My mother was very taken with Victor when she met him, and told me he certainly needed some help in that shop of his ^Ö the sly, old fox had told her that it was Otto, his father, who had let the shop go to rack and ruin. He also told her that I was working in the shop to earn enough money to buy a second-hand bicycle, which was news to me. Howard and I entered the shop and were immediately waved through to the back by Stan, who was standing behind the counter fiddling with a dynamo. We climbed a narrow flight of stairs and entered the stockroom on the first floor. The room was extremely large and separated into three areas: the one to the left had a black leather settee at its centre; the one to the right had a large double bed; and the area in the centre was filled with an untidy array of lighting stands and camera tripods; and intermingled amongst this equipment stood three naked men and a boy. John acknowledged me with a wink and a smile as he stood listening to Brian's plan for the next session. Apparently, prior to our arrival, John had seduced the boy on the settee, stripped him naked and licked his eleven-year-old cock into shape. The next session would see the two of them move across to the bed and go at it like rabbits. `Fucking thing,' said Victor, as he continued to fiddle with the tripod that was refusing to hold the 16mm cine- camera in place. The boy - a small, innocent-looking redhead with freckles - stood beside Victor holding a near empty bottle of Pepsi- Cola in one hand and a large jar of Vaseline in the other. Initially, I was taken aback by this rather surreal scene; however, I soon accepted the odd reality of the situation when Howard told me to `get with it' and `get undressed'. The stockroom was now occupied by four naked men, one naked teenager, and one naked eleven-year-old boy. `Well, bugger me,' said Victor, throwing his arms up in delight. `Young Trevor's brought us some good luck. The fucking thing's stayed put this time.' `I told you to use another tripod, dozy,' rebuked Brian. `We've got three of the bloody things around here some place .... And what happens when you need to change the fuckin' film!' Brian looked at me and mumbled something uncomplimentary about Victor under his breath. He then switched on the photofloods and waited for John and the boy to step into the limelight. `Okay, let's get this show on the road,' said Victor cheerfully. `And don't forget, Darren. I want to see that cock of yours really hard by the time I zoom in for the first close-up.' The boy smiled as John came up behind him, kissed the side of his neck and squeezed his tiny arse-cheeks. Brian put a reassuring hand on Victor's shoulder to let him know that they were still friends; and as he did so, Howard signalled that he and I should get out of the way and stand over by the curtained windows, which offered a better view of the developing sex romp. John and Darren were quick to get into their stride. The young redhead was being held in a gentle embrace and urged to stroke his pencil-thin cock, which was some four inches long and uncut. John stood behind the redhead and firmly pressed his cock and ball-sac into the small of the boy's back. `Ace,' said Victor, with a tremor in his voice. `That looks so sexy.' `Kiss and cuddle him some more,' suggested Brian. `And play with his nips ... He likes that.' John did as his friend suggested, which prompted the boy to nestled back into his lover's arms and give out a low moan of satisfaction. Everyone else in the room, including me, had a hand wrapped tightly around his own erection ^Ö the sight of a full-grown man having sex with a prepubescent boy was far too stimulating to ignore. The young scout's body was small and slim, with prominent shoulder blades and a ridged backbone. His silky smooth skin was stretched drum tight over his slender rib cage, and punctuated by tiny, hard-standing nipples. In contrast, John's body was large and muscular, and fit enough to fuck a whole camp full of scouts. `Okay, Darren,' said Brian. `Bend forward and let John's tongue go to work on that lovely bum-hole of yours.' The boy spread his legs, leaned forward and placed his hands flat-out on the sheet covered bed. He then turned and smiled directly into the camera's lens as John knelt down, eased his arse-cheeks apart and began licking his `lovely bum-hole'. `That's it, that's it,' Victor enthused. `It's a pity we haven't got the other camera up and running. We could have done with a close-up of both the head and the tail.' `Just concentrate on the tail shot,' said Brian, patting Victor's right buttock with his free hand. `You're no Roman Polanksi.' `Maybe we should invite Polanksi to direct our next film,' said Victor. `We could call it "Prick in the Water", or "Prick in the Arse", or maybe something a little more arty- farty.' `Just concentrate on the tail shot,' repeated Brian wearily. Howard and I stood by the curtained windows and watched Darren's body tense, relax, and then tense again in response to John's probing tongue. I became very envious of the redhead when I heard him cooing and sighing with such intensity. However, my envy soon vanished when Howard told me to spread my legs, leaned forward and take hold of my knees. For some ten minutes Darren and I were treated to an exhilarating and mind-blowing bout of rimming. My whole body quaked with excitement as Howard used the tip of his tongue to keep me pleading for `more, more, more' ^Ö just like Darren was doing on the end of John's greedy tongue. `That's it, Howard,' said Brian. `Get Trevor ready for the four o'cock rock. We can fuck him on the bed later, after John's finished poking Darren.' I looked up and saw John and Darren separate, clamber onto the bed and re-engage in a sixty-nine position. The cine- camera zoomed in to capture a superb close-up of the boy struggling to cope with John's eight-inch cock ^Ö his mouth was simply too small to accommodate the whole thing in one go. Unfortunately, I missed out on what happened next. My head dropped and I gave out a howl of satisfaction - Howard's tongue had struck gold and I was right there to cash in on the lucky strike. I grasped my knees until they hurt; I shook my head until I was dizzy; and I kept saying `don't stop' until I was blue in the face. I was on cloud nine and my five-inch cock, which was aching for relief and bouncing around in mid-air below my belly, was on cloud ten. `What a horny little fucker,' said Brian. `He certainly likes all that attention you're giving him, Howard.' `Don't over do it,' added Victor. `We don't want him shagged out before the big event.' I shuddered with excitement as my imagination conjured up a vivid image of the `big event': I was going to be fucked by dozens of big, burly men. They were all waiting outside the stockroom door, on the staircase, and they were all naked and extremely.... A hard slap on my right thigh brought me suddenly back to reality. `Come on, tiger,' said Howard. `Let's fool around on the settee .... It'll be more comfortable.' `But,' I said in a disappointed huff. `No buts!' chide Howard. `The settee awaits us.' >From the glint in his eye, I knew that Howard was expecting me to reward him for all the hard work he had put in so far; and sure enough, the instant we were on the settee he assumed the position and invited me to use my tongue on his `love hole'. `That's it, tiger,' he cooed, as my tongue probed the little starburst between his arse-cheeks. `Keep doing.... Ah! Yes, yes, yes-s-s-s.' Meanwhile, on the bed, John and Darren were locked in a passionate embrace. The camera had been moved to a new location, to get a better view of the action, and Brian and Victor were waiting for John to end the scene by turning the boy on his front and spreading his legs apart. `That's great, John,' said Brian. `Now in the next scene I want to see you climb aboard and take the young scallywag for a ride .... And don't worry about being too hard on him, he can handle it.' As John reached for the Vaseline, Victor announced that he needed a couple of minutes to replace the film in the camera; a task which, when complete, didn't cause any of the problems Brian had envisaged earlier. With a new film in the camera, Victor signalled to Brian that he was ready to resume filming. `Okay, everybody,' said Brian. `Let's get this show on the road. We have a hole to fill and an audience to please, so chop, chop.' Darren sniggered and braced himself for the scene ahead. He had been fucked a good many times before, but never by a cock that was as big as John's. Brian usually teamed him up with boys from the children's home, although he had been fucked by a rather large dildo once. The film in which he and the dildo had shared a scene together was based on one of Brian's abduction and rape fantasies. Three teenagers and a man, a Fagin-type character, jumped him in the park and carried him off to their liar. The gang stripped him naked and took turns in sucking his cock. The teenagers then tied him to a Long John coffee table and, before fucking him with the rubber dildo, helped the man redden his arse-cheeks with a leather strap. Darren winced when John's cock-head entered his arsehole. The memory of the dildo and leather strap made him shudder as the Vaseline coated cock pushed its way into his rectum. `Spread those legs apart, boy,' boomed Brian. `And don't look so glum. It's good to have a cock up your bum.' Victor looked up from the camera and gave an exaggerated sigh: he had heard the same old line a hundred times before. Darren was too preoccupied with John's lust for his arse to take much notice of the joke. He just shut his eyes and grimaced when the man's powerful buttocks began to hammer his body into the mattress. Because of all the attention he had received from John, Darren was far too exhausted to watch his replacement being stretched out on the bed and fucked in turn by Brian, Howard, Victor and Stan. All four men managed to put me in the same exhausted state as the redhead. In fact, Darren and I spent a good hour recovering on the settee while the men drank beer and discussed their sexual prowess. * * * It was raining when Howard and I arrived outside the small block of flats in Winchester Road. Graham, Howard's friend, lived on the top floor, so I had to trudge up three flights of stairs to make his acquaintance. The dark-haired man was in his late fifties and wore ugly, wire-rimmed spectacles. He welcomed us into his flat with a broad grin, then took our coats and led us down the hallway and into a large living-room. The curtains in the living-room were drawn and an 8mm film projector stood on a stand behind the sofa. In front of the sofa, some twelve feet away, stood a portable screen on a tripod. Graham said he had just finished setting up the equipment and couldn't wait to see *all* the goodies on offer. This announcement prompted Howard to put his hand on my shoulder and tell me to find the bathroom, strip off and freshen up. Graham was reeling-up a film on the projector when I walked back into the room. The presence of a naked fourteen-year- old boy in the room didn't do his blood pressure much good. The poor man was totally bedazzled by my naked charm, and could only stand and stare as Howard, who was sitting in the middle of the sofa, beckoned me over and told me to climb aboard. I felt so wicked sitting on my friend's lap and stretching out along the entire length of the sofa, resting my head on one armrest and my feet on the other. My cock began to twitch the instant the lights went out and the film began to roll. On screen, a naked teenage boy was being bound and gagged by two men dressed in black leather. The teenager, who had no hair around his genitals, was hung upside-down from the ceiling by his ankles: leather ankle- straps attached to a metal leg-spreader and chain held him suspended in mid-air. He hung there, completely helpless, as one man slapped his arse-cheeks and the other squeezed his ball sac. The two men then spun him round and round so that they could both slap his arse as it passed by. I was totally mesmerised by this extreme form of sex. I found the concept of a teenager, like myself, being held captive in this way very arousing. The leather straps and rope restraints didn't turn me off at all; in fact, they actually strengthened my determination to seek out this form of sex for myself. With the images on the screen becoming more extreme by the minute, Howard invited Graham to get down on his knees and suck in my hard-standing cock; and as he did so, a jet of sperm hit the back of his throat. Graham certainly knew how to prolong the life of a climax. My whole body shuddered whenever the tip of his tongue visited the most sensitive parts of my knob. The man had latched onto my cock like a limpet, and he wasn't going to let go until he had drained my ball sac completely dry. My dreams were filled with images of leather-clad men for weeks after that first visit to Winchester Road. The mere thought of being restrained and trained by such men made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I was hooked on bondage and needed to know more about it. Unfortunately, my search for information produced nothing of any real value, so I decided to return to Graham's flat and ask for his help. Graham was only too happy to assist a fellow enthusiast. His collection of pornography contained all the bondage information I needed. However, his offer of help did come with a few strings attached: first, I had to be naked at all times during a visit; second, I had to obey his every instruction; third, I had to address him as `Sir'. I agreed to all three conditions in an instant and made an arrangement to visit the flat the next day. As ordered, I arrived at noon and stripped off in the bathroom. The action-packed film show lasted all afternoon, and as before, I lay on the sofa with Graham attached to my cock like a limpet. My next visit to the flat included a stay in the holding cell, which in reality was a converted walk-in cloakroom. The cell's heavy wooden door had been painted light grey to match the colour of the concrete walls and ceiling; and the only item of furniture in the cell was a high-back wooden chair, which had been bolted to the concrete floor and painted black. Spending time in the holding cell was a very uncomfortable experience. I sat naked and cold in the darkness from 10am to 1pm; and to add insult to injury, a dozen or so ropes held me securely in place: with one rope looped around my head several times to form a rather crude but effective gag. When Howard arrived, I was released from my bonds and sent off to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was then ordered into the spare bedroom and told to sit on the end of the bed with my feet apart; and as I did so, Howard knelt down in front of me and fastened a pair of leather straps around my ankles. The straps were then secured to a metal leg- spreader and tied to the legs of the bed with rope. With my legs held fast, Graham told me to lie back on the bed and spread out my arms. The two men then fastened leather straps around my wrists and secured them to the bed with rope. `Right-tee-ho,' said Howard, holding up a black leather blindfold that was padded and shaped like the Lone Ranger's mask. `With this on, you'll be ready for the party.' `Party, what party?' I asked. The two men laughed as Graham took hold of my cock in one hand and my ball sac in the other. `We've invited a few friends over for an afternoon of debauchery. And guess what! You're going to be the life and arsehole of the party.' Howard's words echoed in my ears as the blindfold was placed over my eyes. The crafty old sods had set me up good and proper. They were going to pimp me out to all their friends, and I was in no position to object. `I must be home by five,' I said. `I told my mum...' `Yes, yes, yes,' interrupted Graham dismissively. `You'll be home by five o'clock. I promise.' `Come on, Graham,' said Howard, opening the bedroom door. `Let's leave the lad to stew for a while.' Outside, a clap of thunder signalled the beginnings of a storm that would rumble on for hours. I could hear the rain beating against the window as I tested my bonds and tried to make myself more comfortable. Unfortunately, Graham and Howard had ensured that this wasn't going to be an easy thing to do. The ropes and leather straps around my wrists and ankles had been fastened real tight, and before leaving the room Howard had looped a rope around the base of my cock and tied it securely to the leg-spreader. I lay on the bed for what seemed like forever. I could hear, over the sound of the mounting storm, muffled voices in the hallway from time to time, but no one came into the room. I began to think that Graham and Howard had forgotten about me. Some party, I thought. What if the two old sods... My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. I strained to hear if someone had entered the room, and sensed that they had. `Nice,' said a voice. `You're all trussed up like a real chicken.' I was as scared as I was excited, and my whole body shook when the man's hand closed around my semi-erect cock. `This feels nice. Do you want me to lick it into shape?' `Y-y-yes, please,' I replied gratefully.' `Okay. But you must suck me off first; that's the rule.' The man clambered onto the bed and took up a sixty-nine position above me. From what I could feel, he was completely naked and very hairy. His cock was pencil-thin and bone-hard; and when it entered my mouth, it just kept going. `No slacking now, boy,' he said sternly. `Take it all in!' I gagged when his ball sac cut off my air supply ^Ö my nose was being crushed under his body weight and there was nothing I could do about it. I though about biting his cock, but decided against it: I sensed that he was the type of man who would enjoy doing the same, or worse, to me. I rattled around in my bonds and tried to break free. It was then that he finally raised himself up and let me suck in some fresh air. However, a few minutes later I was back in the same position again. `Come on, boy,' he snapped. `If you don't do it properly, I'll be obliged to piss down your throat.' I gagged again as I tried to service his needs in the best way I knew how. The man cut off my air supply three more times before coating the back of my throat with sperm. He then declared that I was a slacker and promptly left the room. The next man to enter the room was Ancient Harry: a man in his seventies who couldn't get it up any more. He kept me on the brink of a climax for ages, and filled my head with vivid stories of how, when working as a teacher, he had persuaded dozens of boys to get naked and have sex with him. He then went on to tell me about the orgies he had attended, and how Graham, a fellow housemaster, had turned some of the boys in his care into obedient sex slaves. Harry untied the rope around the base of my cock and told me to beg for relief. I gratefully complied, and in addition, promised to take good care of all the cocks that were waiting outside the room to shag me that afternoon. Harry immediately went back to work on my cock with his tongue and lips; and as he did so, a deluge of sperm erupted from my knob and disappeared down his throat. I recall raising my head off the mattress and whooping like a monkey as the old man took care of my needs. My whole body shook as his fingers gently caressed my ball sac, encouraging it to give up more and more of its seed. He continued to milk my ball sac for several long minutes; and when he had finished, my cock was just as hard-standing as it was before the climax. I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks as Harry loosened my bonds and told me to get some rest. He then left the room. >From the sound of it, the storm outside was getting worse. A sudden clap of thunder made me start as I tried to settle down and recover my strength for the forthcoming fuck-fest. A favourite fantasy then began to drift through my mind as I lay in the dark listening to the rain beating against the bedroom window. In my fantasy, which was loosely based on `The Coral Island' by R. M. Ballantyne, I was Ralph Rover, a cabin boy shipwrecked on a South Sea island with two friends: Jack Martin (18) and Peterkin Gay (14). Ballantyne wrote in the book that the three lads `...became the best and staunchest friends that ever tossed together on the stormy waves'. With the storm over and the ship lost, the three of us found ourselves on a sandy beach with nothing but an axe, an oar and a telescope - all else, including our clothes had disappeared beneath the waves with the Arrow. Over the next few days we quickly discovered lots of things to do with our time as we explored the island and each other's naked bodies. On one exploration, Jack and I spotted two war-canoes approaching the island at speed. Two naked black men in the foremost canoe were being chased by a larger canoe containing a dozen or so naked warriors. When the canoes reached the beach the two men were run to ground, spread out on the sand and repeatedly raped by their fearsome looking captors. Following their ordeal, the two men were tied together in a sixty-nine position and forced, at spear point, to suck each other's cock. Meanwhile, a group of five warriors were dispatched by Lloyd, the chief, to secure the canoes and make camp. It was then that a warrior collecting firewood discovered Peterkin lurking in the bushes some distance away from where Jack and I were hidden. The fourteen-year-old boy tried to escape but tripped on a tangled root and was seized by the arm. He tried to reason with the warrior as he was thrown over the man's shoulder and slapped hard across the buttocks. The cannibal continued to slap Peterkin across the arse- cheeks as he walked back to the makeshift camp. Jack and I looked at one another in disbelief and concluded, in a whisper, that Peterkin's rescue would be impossible to achieve. Therefore, we decided to keep our heads down and see what happened to our young friend. The two cock-sucking captives were forgotten in the warriors rush to welcome back the man carrying Peterkin. A cheer of joy went up as Lloyd ran his coal-black hand over the youngster's smooth, white bottom. Peterkin knew his fate was sealed - the cannibals would rape him for sure, then spit-roast him over an open fire. The captain of the Arrow had told him all about the natives of the South Sea Islands. `They like to tenderise their food before they eat it, son,' he would say. Jack and I watched as Peterkin was lowered to the ground and forced to stand in the centre of the group. Every inch of the youngster's body was then squeezed, fondled and stroked by the men around him. Fingers were pushed into his mouth and rectum as the warriors pinched his nipples, squeezed his arse-cheeks and fondled his ball sac. Peterkin moaned and fluttered his eyelids when a long, black finger entered his inner sanctum. The warriors around him smiled as he sucked hard on the finger in his mouth. Peterkin wasn't stupid: he knew that the chief and his underlings might want to keep him around if he co-operated. He could become their special bum-boy, the white-skin who loved to suck black cock. Peterkin dropped to his knees and sucked each warrior's cock in turn, ensuring that no one was left out in his enthusiasm to become their special bum-boy. Jack and I could see the logic behind our friend's plan, but believed it was doomed to failure. A few minutes later, Lloyd broke away from the group and scanned the irregular line of palm trees and bushes that bordered the beach. He believed that there were more white- skins hiding in the undergrowth, and so, taking up a spear, he decided to investigate. Jack and I panicked when we saw the chief running up the beach toward us. We knew he couldn't see us, but still we broke cover and headed inland like frightened rabbits. A loud war cry went up behind us as Lloyd called upon his men to join the hunt. Jack and I decided to split up and go our separate ways. We hastily agreed to stay away from our camp and head for the other side of the island. Needless to say, we were both captured within the hour. The man who stayed behind to look after the cannibals' dinner was busy tenderising Peterkin's bottom when Jack and I were carried into camp. Like captured deer, we each hung from a long wooden pole by vines tied around our wrists and ankles. And to make matters even worse, the four warriors shouldering the two poles had dragged our arse-cheeks through every kind of prickly bush on the trail. We were unceremoniously dropped on the ground and tied together in a sixty-nine position. It was then that the bedroom door opened and someone said, in a rather excited voice, `Lumme! Look at that stiffy'. `Now gather round you reprobates,' said Howard, clapping his hands together to gain everyone's attention. `This is Trevor, the young man with "the stiffy".' `He's a nice looking lad,' said a man on my left. `I like `em skinny and blond.' `Yeah, he sure is skinny,' said another man on my left. `How old is he, Gee?' `Fourteen,' replied Graham. `Nice to meet you, Trevor,' said a man on my right, as he took hold of my throbbing cock and gave it a hard squeeze. Another man did the same as Howard was congratulated on his new find. `Release those straps from the leg-spreader, Tom,' said Howard. `Let's get his legs up in the air.' Someone tightened the ropes that secured my wrist-straps to the bed and made sure the blindfold I was wearing was still doing its job. I then felt two pairs of hands take hold of my legs and lift them up into the air - the image of a giant wishbone being broken in two suddenly flashed through my mind. `Get his arse up,' said Howard. George and Tom, the two men holding my legs, doubled my body over and held it in a jack-knife position, with my arsehole pointing up at the ceiling. `Look at that ball-sac,' said Tom. `It's so round and...' `His arsehole is the real prize,' interrupted George. `That's true,' agreed Howard, as he ran the tip of his finger over my bum-hole. I lifted my head off the mattress and gave out a long, low moan of pleasure, which I repeated when Howard ran his finger over my anus again. `That sounds so fuckin' sweet,' said Don. `C'mon, let me have a go.' Don eased my arse-cheeks apart and used the tip of his tongue to replace Howard's finger. I gasped and tugged at my wrist-straps when the tongue sent a shockwave of pleasure surging through my body. I had never felt anything like it, and was keen to experience the sensation again, and again, and again. `Hold him steady,' barked Howard. `We don't want him bouncing off the bed and out of the room.' `Look at him go,' said Graham. `The little sod can't get enough.' The sensation had swallowed me up whole. My entire body ached, and yet I was quite happy to stay bent over and let the man work on my bum-hole with his warm, wet tongue. Suddenly, Don stopped what he was doing and released my arse-cheeks. My cock twitched and bounced around in mid-air as I raised my head up and implored him to continue. `You've turned him into an addict, Don,' said Tom. `He'll be bending over and spreading his arse-cheeks for everyone now. Ain't that right, son?' `Yes, yes,' I said breathlessly. `Okay, Trev,' said Don. `Once more round the block; then we get to fuck you.' George and Tom tightened their grip on my legs when Don's tongue went back to work on my anus. My whole body buzzed with excitement as the sensation suddenly returned and wiped me out for a second time. And then, when a bottle of poppers was waved under my nose I lost it completely and began drooling at the mouth like a silly boy. `Fuckin' hell,' said Tom. `He's having a fit.' `Cobblers,' snapped Howard. `He's just over excited.' `Yes,' added George. `The poor sod's in need of a good old fashioned gang-bang. So let's give him one.' I was still on cloud nine when the first of the five cocks entered my well rimmed hole. It slipped in effortlessly - thanks in the main to Don's hard work and a good coating of Vaseline on the stem. With my legs now bent at the knees and held less securely, I was in a far better position to take on a five-star rogering. `C'mon, Don,' said Tom. `Keep pounding that sweet little hole. I want to see it red raw by the time I get a taste.' I shook my head from side to side and groaned as Don increased his stroke rate and began power ramming my `sweet little hole'. Every inch of my body was now dancing to his tune. I was there for his pleasure, and that's why my cock was leaking so much pre-cum and threatening to shed its load unaided. I was being fucked by an alpha male with an insatiable appetite for the weak and willing, and boy, was I weak and willing! Graham and Howard were totally mesmerised by Don's vigorous performance. They watched, green with envy, as his powerful buttocks pounded my body into the mattress. `Look at him go,' said Graham. `Yes,' added George. `The man can fuck for...' It was the words `Yes! Yes! Yes!' that interrupted George in mid-sentence. Don had reached a climax and was eager to share the news with everyone in the room, if not the entire block of flats. I began to tug at my wrist-straps and whoop like a monkey as he released his seed. George was quick to step into the breach and take over from his exhausted friend. His hard-standing cock slipped into my bum-hole with ease; and although it didn't stay there for long, it did leave quite an impression. `Any objections to turning the lad over?' asked Tom, who was next in line to take me for a ride. `I want to bum him doggy style.' `I'd like to fuck him that way, too,' said Howard. `Okay,' said Graham, `release those straps, turn him over and get him up on his hands and knees.' Of course, I had no say in the matter. However, I did welcome the change of position - being bent over double wasn't doing me much good in the old aches and pains department. `Okay, chaps,' said Tom. `I'm going in, so wish me luck.' Several men laughed as Tom took hold of my hips and pushed his cock deep into my rectum. I felt his cock-head enter my inner sanctum and rub against my prostrate gland. He then began power ramming my hole for all he was worth. `C'mon you slack bastard,' barked Howard. `Tighten those arse muscles and give the man a ride to remember.' I thrust out my arse and clenched my anus as tight as I could, which did prompt a grunt of approval from Tom. `Give him some more poppers, Gee,' said Don. `He might need a little boost.' Graham opened the bottle of amyl nitrite and waved it under my nose. My head began to swim the second the vapour hit my sinuses. `That's it, Trev,' said Don. `Let the nice man fuck your arse and fill it up with spunk.' My head dropped as I gave out a low moan of satisfaction. I didn't want this moment to end, but Tom had other plans. His climax wiped me out completely; and as sweat poured from my body, he thrust forward and filled my rectum with semen. I collapsed onto my forearms and used the bed sheet to wipe away the sweat from my face. It was then that Tom's cock was withdrawn and replaced by another hard-standing member. Howard fucked me like a man possessed. He slapped my thighs, pulled on my hair and called me all the names under the sun. My rectum was now awash with four different lots of semen. Graham was more of a sucker than a fucker, so when his turn came my shattered body was spared another full-blown rogering. Instead, I was treated to a fuck-suck fest. He pushed his hard-standing cock into my well lubricated hole and kept it there while someone wiped me down with a damp towel. He then told me to lie flat out on the bed, which I did by collapsing onto my front as his body covered mine. Graham kissed the back of my neck and playfully bit my right shoulder as he humped me slowly. The tiredness in my arms and legs quickly vanished as his cock gently rubbed against my prostrate gland. In just a few minutes he had breathed new life into my body. `How does that feel, son?' he asked. I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks and sighed when he suddenly raised himself up and removed his cock. `Now turn over, son. I need to take care of that cock of yours.' I didn't waste any time in complying: my poor cock had been neglected for far too long. It had been throbbing and twitching throughout the entire session, but no one had touched it until now. Unfortunately, it was only in Graham's mouth for a few seconds before it released a deluge of semen that nearly choked the man. - - - - - Copyright, August 2006 All comments welcome (attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk) - - - - -