Trip to Colorado

Disclaimer

The story that follows contains relations between between a man and a boy. Being between a man and a boy, it cannot be consensual. Events and persons depicted in this story are purely fictional and from the mind of the author. No real boy was involved in the writing of this story. Any similarity to real people or situations are purely coincidental. The Nifty Archives have provided a venue for many over the past several decades, however, this cannot be done for free. If you have the means, please consider a donation to the kind folk at Nifty so they can continue to provide this service for decades to come. You may do so at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Donate

If you like the story and wish to comment, the author's email is zach.lucas@anonymousspeech.com

Trip to Colorado

I had been going over to his house playing videogames, poker and blackjack. He was renting a room from one of my stepdad's friends. He was fun to be around, and I usually won playing blackjack or poker, making some money, so I was always over at his place. Wasn't much to do at home. If I hung around there, I'd just get bitched at for one thing or the other.

I had been going over to his house for better than a month when my brother's wife needed someone to come get her in our van to move her back to Texas because my brother was in jail. My stepdad had intended to take some time off to drive him and me up there to pick her up, but Jack volunteered to drive the van and me up to Colorado to pick her up. All he wanted was some gas money for doing it. The trip would take a couple of days so on the way up there, we stopped off at a motel. Sitting around in the room, we took some pills he had, played some poker, and got fucked up by the pills. I think they were Quaaludes. After a while, he said, "Let's go to bed. We need to get an early start, so we went to bed. He took off his jeans and shirt, going to bed in his t-shirt and underwear. I only took off my shoes. I wore my jeans to bed.

Turning his head, he looked at me. My dick got hard. He reached for me, and I spurted before he even touched me. His hand touched the wet spot at the top of my fly, and he threw back the covers and undid my pants, pulling them and my underwear off. Not saying anything, he pulled up on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I raised my arms letting him pull it off. He took off his t-shirt and underwear, and we were both naked. My dick was hard again, and so was his which was longer than mine by a good two inches. I only had a four-inch dick.

Leaning over, he took my dick in his mouth and started blowing me. I'd never even jacked off with anyone else. I came almost immediately, and keeping my dick in his mouth, he blew me again and again. I spurted into his mouth each time losing count of the times I spurted, but it had to be seven or eight.

Finally, he said, "My turn, and climbed on top of me. He kissed me, running his tongue in my mouth. I didn't kiss him back, but I didn't close my mouth to keep his tongue out either. "There's nothing wrong with this, David," he said. "It doesn't mean you're queer or anything like that. Hell, I like girls. I've fucked more girls than I have guys.

With that, he spit on his hand and rubbed the spit on my butt-hole. When he stuck his finger up my hole, I knew he was going to fuck me, but I said nothing. It was as if I couldn't speak. I hadn't hadn't said anything the whole time. I hadn't once told him to stop.

When he pressed his dick against my hole and thrust, I cried out in pain, but he covered my mouth, saying, "It's all right, David. It'll be better in a minute," and he thrust again. His dick went a little farther in. Still, it hurt, and I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn't. Instead, I spurted onto my stomach.

Seeing me spurt, he grinned and thrust again. His dick went in farther. It still hurt, and I said, "Hurts."

"Almost there," he said, thrusting again. His dick slid in all the way. His pubic bone rammed against the bottom of my crotch. I could feel him deep inside me. My dick was hard again, and as he fucked me, he jacked me off. I spurted again for maybe the tenth time.

After he came, he kissed me, and said, "Goddamn! That was good. I know it hurt. It always does the first time, but I know you liked it. I never knew a kid that could come as much as you did. It won't hurt so much the next time.

The next time? I wanted to tell him there wouldn't be a next time, but I didn't. I'd never had that many orgasms in one day, not even close to that many. He fell asleep, but I lay awake thinking about what had just happened. I was confused. I hadn't wanted him to do it, but I had come before he'd even touched me. I had let him kiss me. I had let him fuck me. I don't know whether I could have stopped him, but I hadn't even tried. It was the fucking pills, I told myself. That's why I let him fuck me. Drowsy from them, I fell asleep.

We got up the next morning and each took a shower. He said nothing about what happened the night before, and neither did I. We drove on to my brother's place and spent the night there. Again, I slept beside him. Again, he reached for me and I came at his touch. Again, he climbed on top and kissed me. Again, he fucked me. It didn't hurt so much that time, but it hurt, and that time I couldn't blame it on the pills. We didn't take any. When he tried to blow me after he fucked me, I pushed him away, grabbed my jeans, and went into the living room. He came in after me. "David, i'm sorry," he said. "Come back to bed. I won't do anything. I promise. I won't touch you. I don't want you sleeping out here."

We talked a while longer, and I went back to bed with him. I had put my jeans back on. He was true to his word. He didn't touch me.

Neither of us said anything about it the next day, and we left with my sister-in-law for the trip back to Texas, stopping at a motel where I slept in the bed with her rather than with him. After we got home, I still went over to his house and played video games and poker. Once, when he was fucked up, he said, "When I get fucked up, I want you."

It was the only time he alluded to what happened on the trip to Colorado.

I said, "No, I'm not doing that again," and he didn't try to force me. I think he knew if he did, I'd tell someone. I might even tell about what happened on the trip to Colorado

Soon after that, he left town for good. "I'm going to Las Vegas," he said. "You can come with me."

But, I said, "No, I can't."

He said, "Why not? It's not like you got anyting going on here.

"You know why I can't," I said, and he left it at that.

He left the next morning, and I haven't seen him since.