This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a man, a teenager and two MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is intended to have serious literary value. As a friend once said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right to censor an imagination, or dreams."
With that in mind, know that this story is not true, although it is based on fact and some real events! Further, it is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!
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"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible members of society capable of making decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...."
The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. Reference is also made in context to the times, characters, and situations that have become part of modern western culture. No other implication about the true sexuality of the people mentioned or their private lives is intended.
Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....
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The rain eased to a misty drizzle and ended by mid-morning. The clouds began to break shortly afterwards, departing swiftly to the east and out to sea and shearing the sky to reveal large patches of blue. Within an hour, the surf managed to grow to an insipid slop. Not that it mattered much, because by then the decision had been made to spend the rest of the day at Coffs Harbour. It was undoubtedly a smart move on Byron’s part, and not only because we needed to replenish our food and drink supplies. In the way of the typical Australian-summer day, the temperature began to increase as soon as the rain ended. It had the effect of creating a tiring tropical humidity for which the corrugated metal roof of the shack offered little relief.
Attired in board shorts, tee-shirts, and thongs for the first time in two days, we climbed into Byron’s car. Wisps of steam swirled off the matt-black bonnet (hood) as evaporation began.
The track up the hill was in even worse shape that it had been when we had descended, but Byron drove slowly. Only one time did it seem as if we wouldn’t make it and that was when we reached a washed-out section. There, we got out of the car and spent a few minutes dragging branches and laying them perpendicular to the track so that the car would have traction. The three of us stripped off so our clothes wouldn’t get dirty and pushing with all our might. It took every ounce of strength we could muster before Byron managed to get across the washed-out section. By the time the car stopped we were laughing our heads off as we tried to keep out of the mud that flew out from the wildly spinning wheels. Both Blaine and I were splattered from head to toe with brown water because we were pushing from the back of the car. Bruce, on the other hand, had taken up position at the passenger-side door-pillar and remained relatively clean. There were a few spots of mud on his legs.
Byron got out of the car, shaking his head in pretended disbelief at Blaine and me. Apparently, he had known what to expect because he brought an old beach towel with him, opening it with his arms stretched wide for Blaine to get dried first. I stood back and waited my turn as Byron rubbed the towel back and forth, pummelling Blaine and for once, paying no attention to his groin. He rubbed Blaine up and down until he was giggling. Then, in a surprise attack, Byron began playing with Blaine’s penis. In a way, I expected it to happen, and so did Blaine. Bruce merely leaned on the car and watched his brother being fondled.
“Hey, sexy boy, so what’s this little thing doing all limp and floppy like this?” Byron taunted. He held Blaine’s penis and testicles in his cupped hand, threatening to squeeze hard.
“Geez. Take it easy, will you. My dick is worn out from this morning, as if you didn’t know,” Blaine said with a smirk.
“Worn out, huh. We’ll see about that, mate.”
In an instant, Blaine jumped back, not really trying to escape. Byron didn’t let go. He held on to the end of Blaine’s penis, bringing him to a sudden stop. Blaine yelped, mostly in surprise. I think I was as surprised as he was. I was glad it wasn’t me because Blaine’s penis stretched into a very thin tube until he finally gave in and relaxed. Standing at a safe distance of a few feet away, I watched as Byron’s fingers expertly manipulated my best friend’s sex organs. Envy welled up inside me, but it was wasted. Blaine grinned, waiting, looking down, aware that he was slowly becoming aroused. Only a few seconds passed before he was sporting a prominent erection. His scrotum was dark, still very blue, and rounded, already wrinkled up. Then, Byron laughing, released his grip on his nephew, letting the hard shaft snap up and bounce against Blaine’s lower belly. Blaine smirked back at him. He whispered something to Byron that I couldn’t hear, and was met with a collusive nod.
Then, Byron slowly turned to me, holding out the towel. I knew what was coming. His eyes were challenging, daring me to let him dry me off, and do what he’d done to Blaine to me as well. I glanced at Bruce, then at Blaine, wondering what he had said to Byron. Maybe it was his idea. He shrugged disinterestedly. One thing was clear. Whatever I did or didn’t do was entirely up to me. If Bruce and Blaine didn’t mind, I didn’t see why I should mind. What a change a few days had wrought. I had no shame. Indeed, there was nothing to be ashamed of, not after being naked for most of the time since my surprise birthday party. With a smile, Blaine sauntered off to collect his clothes from inside the car where we had tossed them. He started to get dressed, apparently more concerned about putting on his clothes than with anything that Byron might do to me. I stepped forward. My grandmother would have had a there stroke if she saw me standing there, naked as the day I was born and waiting to be cleaned off.
“You guys did a great job pushing,” Byron said to me as he wrapped the towel around my shoulders.
He winked meaningfully, then reaching behind me, he cupped my bottom in the palms of his hands. He parted them with one hand and began pressing the towel into my crack, as if somehow the mud managed to get in there. It was all I could do not to gasp when his touch became more intimate. I clenched my jaws instinctively, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. Why was I denying that he was doing what he was doing? It was no big deal. It didn’t mean anything. It helped, but I couldn’t help trembling when he pulled my cheeks even further apart and proceeded to rub the towel directly over my anus. I tried to relax and convince myself that what he was doing wasn’t bad, that he really wasn’t rubbing the towel against my anus to make me tremble.
“Mmmm, mmmm,” he sighed longingly. “Man oh man, you’re a cutie, Allan. Hey, what’s this poking out?” he added quietly, feeling my penis through the towel.
I smiled down at him. He squeezed gently yet firmly. I quivered beneath his touch.
“Hey, I really like how your balls turned out. How about it, man?” he laughed. He fondled them playfully, rubbing his fingers, feeling through the towel and pressing my testicles into the sides.
“The colour's cool,” I agreed. During the last few days the blue dye faded to nearly the colour of my jeans.
“Brucey said you really enjoyed my cowboy magazines,” Byron said quietly.
No one else heard him.
“Uh huh,” I muttered, looking down, watching his fingers.
My penis was being rubbed from the towel. A moment latter, his hand moved away. My testicles tingled. Would he do it some more? Would I dare ask him?
“You liked what they did with their old man, huh?”
“I'll take 'um' as yes. Those two boys are pretty sexy aren't they? Particularly little Timmy. He's sexy, isn't he?” he murmured.
“They were okay I guess,” I answered as noncommittally as I could.
Byron smirked knowingly. “Yeah, okay is right on. But you want to know something, Allan?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “You’re better looking than either of those boys. You know that, don’t you?”
He raised his eyebrows, looking up at me without lifting his head.
“Hold your towel, mate,” he said very softly. “We don’t want it coming loose, do we?”
I tried to shrug, but I froze. One of Byron’s hands moved discreetly from groping my bottom to my right hip, gripping the bony ridge with his fingers. Quickly, I transferred my hand to the towel to keep it in place. Without warning, his thumb slowly extended down towards my groin. The rest of his hand followed, sliding beneath the towel. No one else could see. No one else would know. His fingers felt warm, reassuring as they caressed my lower belly, coming nearer and nearer. I winced when I felt the stroking the skin of my very hard penis.
If that wasn’t enough, his other hand slipped deftly up underneath the towel from behind me. His hand fondled my bottom for a few seconds before relocating his fingertips. Not only were they deep inside my crack but they were placed so that he levered my cheeks apart with his thumb. He began lightly stroking my anus. Skin on skin, without the rough towel to keep us apart. I gasped, not understanding why I didn’t tell him to stop. It almost seemed as if he had managed to do it with me noticing.
For a moment one of his fingertips actually pressed into my opening. It felt large, thick and demanding, at least compared to what Bruce did to me. I exhaled weakly. What was happening to me? As if he understood what I was thinking, he pressed firmly, giving me the impression that his finger was going inside me. Then, I gasped. It felt impossibly good, not really hurting, yet making me feel very uncomfortable as it began to bore deeper. As if in slow motion, my befuddled mind realised that Byron was sticking his finger into my anus. I could feel it going deeper and deeper, slowly but surely penetrating, twisting as if to find a way through my clenching muscle. Immediately, my body became hotter. Blaine and Bruce had to realise that something was happening, yet they said nothing. I tensed, thinking about pulling away, until I realised that the towel must have hid what he was doing from them.
“You’re as tight as a chook’s arse back here, aren’t you mate?” Byron said softly. “But not for much longer, I reckon.”
“Man, but I do love a nice little boy bum, especially before it's been stretched by a dick. Lucky Bruce! I'd give anything to be the first in here.”
His finger backed out suddenly and I squirmed uncomfortably. The sides of the towel parted, exposing my crotch. Between the edges of the towel, I could see my penis jutting out. The skin was stretched so tightly that it appeared to have taken on a glossy sheen. Below it was a patch of very bluish skin. It had faded, but it was still very noticeable. No longer did it seem out of the ordinary, although I knew I would have to be careful using the urinal for weeks to come. There was no way I wanted to explain why my balls were blue to someone.
“Hey Brucey, your boy’s got himself a nice little stiff over here,” Byron called out. “I think I just found what I want for Christmas.”
“No surprise there, that's for fucking sure,” Bruce replied haughtily.
“Well, Christ Almighty! What did you fucking expect, By? Do you expect it to stay limp while you're playing with it?”
I managed to turn and look behind me. Bruce was watching. He had probably been watching all along. Was he jealous? He sounded as if he was. Byron's fingers stroked my penis, pulling the skin forward, then pushing it back as far as it could go. As stiff as it was, there wasn't very much movement. Under his expert fingers, the hard core of my penis throbbed relentlessly.
“There’s nothing to get shitty about, mate!”
“I’m not getting shitty! What ever he does with you is entirely up to him.”
“Jealous?” Byron taunted.
“Nope. He knows the rules. He does what he fucking wants. If he wants you to wank him, it's okay by me.”
Byron glanced at me, his expression seeking permission. He didn't say anything. Awkwardly, I looked away. I wasn't sure whether I wanted him to keep doing it. The head of my penis looked like a red knob on the end. It was starting to hurt.
“It's cool, Bruce. I'm not going all the way with him, not this time anyway.” He pushed the sides of the towel further apart. “Man, oh man! Look at the bolt on this one, will you? He's stiff as a board. There's nothing wrong with his blood pressure, that's for sure.”
“He's gets real hard when he's cops a stiffie, doesn't he?”
“Yeah. He likes getting it played with, I'd say.”
“Too right,” Bruce agreed. He smirked at me.
“It'd be a pity to waste it,” Byron said suggestively. He leered at me, expecting me to give permission if he asked, because that was the rule.
“It wouldn't be the first time this morning.”
“Yeah, we heard you guys going at it,” Byron laughed. “Oh man! Oh Bruce! It feels so good,” he mimicked.
“The randy little bugger’s always getting off,” Bruce smirked. “He’s turning into a walking wanker, just like Blainey.”
Blaine grinned at me from the other side of the station wagon, not saying anything but nodding in agreement instead. He was dressed already. I was the only person who was naked. Suddenly, I felt very exposed.
“Nothing surprising about that. I'm all for a boy wanking, even if he's does it without seeing spunk,” Byron quipped. “What do you reckon, Cuddlepie. You want me to get you off?”
“Um,... Ah,... I guess I ought to get dressed, By,” I muttered self-consciously.
Byron regarded me curiously. “There’s no rush, mate,” he said quietly. “If you're embarrassed about them seeing you, we can go off for a couple of minutes.”
He gestured towards the ocean. There, amongst the tinder-dry brown bracken and stunted spiky banksia trees, was a track. It seemed to lead towards the headland that overlooked the beach.
“There's nothing wrong with two guys getting to know each other,” he added meaningfully.
“I'm not sure what you mean,” I answered nervously.
But for once, I did know what Byron intended. He wanted to masturbate me. He wanted to do the same things with me that he did to Blaine. He wanted to do what Bruce did. Part of me was honoured, excited, ready to agree to anything that Byron suggested. If only Blaine and Bruce weren't standing a few paces away. Even saying what I did, I felt bad. If I said 'yes' I would be selling them out.
“It's cool,” Byron said softly. “If not today, then maybe tomorrow.”
Then, he pinched the tip of my penis. He held it between his fingertips and squeezed on the head until I pulled back slightly. After a moment, his fingers rolled back and forth over the tender bulbous end.
“It sure is nice and stiff. Not too big. Just the way I like them. Okay, mate,” he breathed in, held it, exhaled slowly. “You and I are going to have to do some serious surfing pretty soon. I reckon it’s time we got better acquainted.”
He let me go then, even giving me a playful slap on the rear to et me going. I walked quickly to the car. Blaine and Bruce watched me every step of the way. They kept watching me as I put my clothes on. All I could think about was how thrilling it was to have a man's touching my private parts. My flushed face wasn’t because of the exertion of pushing the car through the mud.
The rest of the trip to Coff’s Harbour was uneventful. It was as if what had happened had not happened. No one mentioned it. We listened to the radio, with Blaine and me singing along sometimes. 2-CH had surf reports from up and down the coast that confirmed our decision to forgo surfing for the day. Byron gave us the ‘unofficial guided tour around town', as he called it. Mostly, he pointed out the pubs and surf shops that were the most interesting attractions of Coff's Harbour as far as he was concerned. We went to a matinee movie and ate a late lunch that was supposed to be an early dinner. After that we hung out at the beach and talked with other surfers. Everyone seemed to know both Byron and Bruce, which was only to be expected given their celebrity status. Byron, who apparently went by the nickname, ''Chugger”, when in the company of surfers even took orders for a couple of surfboards. Mostly, Blaine and I listened because we were the youngest people there. Most of the talk was about the sloppy surf or telling crude jokes, a lot of them about a woman called Shirley, who was supposedly the town bike. Everyone rode her.
After it began to get dark, Byron drag-raced his station wagon against a couple of the other surfers' hotted up cars. In the most part they were EH Holdens, lowered to within a few inches off the ground, with wide chrome wheels, worked over six-cylinder engines and Hurst shifters. Byron won every time. He was unbeatable until a banana-bender (Queenslander) showed up with a '67 Falcon GT. Needless to say, bets were placed, mostly in beer.
And so it was that Byron's 'shaggin wagon', as everyone called it, and the Falcon GT were lined up at the end of the narrow road that ran beside the beach. The Falcon GT, gunning its engine and squealing tyres with wheelies to soften the rubber, was the hot favourite. Byron was very indifferent about the whole thing, getting ready for the big race by gulping down a can of KB beer in a single attempt, what everyone called 'chug-a-lugging'. It was the origin of his nickname.
Blaine and I took up position next to the start line, ready to cheer. There was no riding along this time. Byron winked at us, making light of the car beside him while keeping close watch on the starter. I counted down along with everyone there. The Falcon GT left with a deep-throated roar, its back wheels howling in protest from 230 horsepower. Byron got the better start with calm, almost mechanical precision. By technical specifications alone, the GT should have won. Comparing a '67 GT with a 289 cubic inch V8 and a four-on-the-floor gearbox to a '68 automatic station wagon with a GT modified 302 cubic inch engine should have been a no-contest with a one or two second advantage to the Falcon GT over a quarter mile, but Byron held the GT off all the way to the end. As someone said later, 'he won by a tit nipple'.
Then, with a blazing fire of driftwood as the centrepiece, half a dozen car radios were turned up to full volume and tuned to the same station, the party began. The beer flowed like water. Byron's victory over the GT brought two cases of Toohey's stubbies from the loser. It was an easy matter for Blaine and I to sneak a couple of bottles each. We wandered along the beach, until we could no longer be seen. Further and further, until we could barely hear the music. Only then did we stop walking. Neither of us spoke for a long while after we settled down on the sand.
“Man, what a fucking marvellous day,” Blaine said wistfully.
I lay back and yawned, slopping beer over the side of my face. It dribbled down my chin. I didn't care that my tee-shirt was damp. By then I was drinking my second beer of the night and it was already having an effect. I was light-headed and irrationally happy. My grandmother would have been furious.
“Fuck yeah,” I agreed. I laughed and hiccuped.
“Hey, you fucking swore, Allie,” Blaine remarked gleefully. He wiped beer from his lips with the back of his hand.
“Me? I never fucking swear.”
We both laughed.
“Let's say it together,” Blaine suggested. “No better yet, let's shout it out at the same time.”
“Shout what together?”
“Fuck, you numbskull.”
I grinned, not really believing we would do it, but agreeing to anyway.
“On three,” Blaine added. “Right?” He waited for my nod. “Okay. One,... Two,.... Three.”
“FUCK!” we shouted in unison.
A second or two later we heard a distant voice call out 'cunt'.
Blaine and I snorted beer and laughter. There were other people on the beach besides us.
“Blimey. They sure got that out at the right time. Fuck cunt,” Blaine managed to get out. “I wouldn't mind getting my dick in one, that's for fucking sure. It'd be so cool, wouldn't it Allie?” he shook his head and took a long drink.
I didn't answer.
“By,... he says it feels the same,... you know,... but I don't see how it could be. Bruce says it's nothing the same,” Blaine said almost to himself.
“What's the same?”
“Huh? Fucking's the same as what?” I burped and took another swig.
“Geez, Allie. Do I have to spell it out for you? Fucking a chick, and,... well, you know,... what By and I do.”
“You mean this morning?” I didn't have to elaborate. We both knew what I was alluding to.
“Hey Allie. Do you think we're boozed yet?” Blaine said as he gulped from his bottle.
“How the fuck can you tell?” he asked, slurring his words until he was nearly incoherent. I laughed and kicked sand over his legs. “Well fuck you. Are we boozed up or what?”
“I know from seeing the shearers. After they finish the job at Brindajari, they have a get together at night. They drink lots more than a couple of bottles. Like a dozen at least before they get drunk,” I explained. “This is only my third bottle.”
“Fourth, Ace,” Blaine corrected. “Remember we cadged those two bottles earlier, after By shut down that boofhead. These three make five, I figure.”
“So you think we're drunk as fucking monkeys?” I asked. My words sounded right. It was a crazy notion. I was eleven years old.
“Not yet. But I reckon we're bloody getting there. Maybe I ought to make a line in the sand and see if you can walk it.”
I clambered to my feet and swayed unsteadily. It was all part of the game. I staggered from side to side, making a circle before collapsing again. We rolled on the sand.
“We're going to be pissed if we drink a couple more,” Blaine announced as he pulled of the metal cap.
“Full as boots,” I agreed.
Blaine tried to chug-a-lug, but ended up spilling the best part of a mouthful of the precious amber. We giggled.
“Stop beating around the bush, Allie.”
“What's it like, Blaine?” I asked shyly. His silence confirmed the direction of my question.
“Fucking a chick?”
I managed a shrug. It was easy to tell when Blaine was pretending.
“You're asking the wrong guy,” he joked. We both took drinks.
“Ask By, because he's the one doing the fucking.” Blaine laughed, almost cruelly.
“What's it like?” I repeated patiently.
Blaine stared at me, his eyes glistening in the dark. Absently, he licked his lips, then lifted the stubby beer bottle to take yet another drink.
“Okay.” He sighed. “You really want to know huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He hesitated, turning to look at the dark ocean. “It's hard to describe, Allie.... It feels like you're going to burst, or explode, or something.” He took another drink and then held the bottle upside down. “Dead soldier!”
I waited, running my fingers through the sand, feeling uncomfortable and not understanding why.
“Not because it's so big. I mean he is big, you've seen his donger, but,... well it doesn't feel all that big after a while. Mostly It's because there are these really incredible feelings inside.”
“It's hard to describe. When it goes in you feel so full you can barely breath, and then, when it comes back out, you're so empty you feel like there's nothing left inside you.”
“You like him doing it?” I asked shyly.
Blaine sighed again. “You think I'm sick, don't you?”
“I don't know what I think,” I answered honestly.
“You hate me?”
“Why would I hate you?”
“Geez. For doing what poofters do, what else.”
“You're not a poof,” I countered instantly.
“What if I am?”
“But if I was?”
“Streuth! Let it go, Blaine.”
“You're jealous of Byron and me aren't you?” he asked boldly.
“No. Actually, if you must know, I don't give a rat's crap. It's no big deal what you do with By, or anyone else for that matter. It's none of my business.”
“You don't give a shit if I'm a poof?” he challenged.
I shrugged ambivalently and wished it was true.
Blaine blew out beer-inflated air, making a fart sound. “I asked you a question.”
“I don't know what to say.”
“Your best friend is getting rooted by his uncle a couple of times a day and you've got nothing to say. Is that the biggest load of shit or what.”
“I suppose,... there's nothing wrong with liking it.... I mean,... I don't know what I think.” I shook my head wearily. “You like doing it, don't you?”
“What's not to fucking like,” Blaine said huffily. “It's so much fun that I can't wait till the next time when he sticks it up my bum.”
It was supposed to sound sarcastic. Instead, it was the truth.
“Allie, if I tell you something,... well, it's not something I thought I'd ever tell you. I really don't want you to be peed at me,” he added quietly.
“You know how we're always telling jokes about poofs?”
“I think I'm one.”
I was still in denial. I shook my head. Blaine ignored me.
“I started last summer, doing it with By I mean,... Bruce and me,... I,... we,... we mess around too, you know at night and stuff or when Mum and Dad are out for a while, but it's different with him,.... It's not even close to being the same. I really like what By and I do together. I can't help it.” He avoided me, gazing out towards the waves.
“I don't want to. Hey Allie, you want to hear something I've never told anyone?”
“What?” I settled back on the sand, my legs brushing his. I stared up at the cloudless dark sky and waited.
“You remember that time when we were at Dee Why. Dad took us to watch Bruce surf?”
It was almost a year ago. It was late January or early February when it was almost too hot to breath. Sweat poured out of us. We drank Fanta non stop.
“I had to make a trip to the dunny to take a leak, remember.”
“There was this weird guy in there.”
“Yeah, some Kiwi surfer. This guy, he was about By's age, maybe older by a few years, Allie. He was a flasher. He pulled his jocks down and showed me his dick while I was trying to pee. You should have seen his nuggets. They were way bigger than By's. He wanted me to show him mine.”
“That's when I knew.”
“Geez. What do you think?” Blaine avoided my gaze. Suddenly, he seemed anxious.
“I don't know.”
“I was gone for a long while, remember?”
“You should have left and gone back and told your dad.”
Leave immediately and tell a grown-up was standard operating procedure when a boy came in contact with a stranger who was acting weird. It was drummed into us from an early age. The only problem was that no one bother to tell us what was involved in a man being 'weird'. It was left to our fertile imaginations.
“Why didn't you?” I persisted.
“He wanted me to touch his.”
“Yuk. That's disgusting. So you choofed off, right?”
Blaine shook his head. “Man, for a smart arse, you're as dumb as a fucking rock sometimes.”
“Why didn't you leave?” I said bitterly.
“Because I didn't want to,” Blaine admitted.
“You didn't want to?” I repeated.
“I wanted to touch it.”
I swallowed nervously. Suddenly, it wasn't just what he did with Byron that bothered me.
“You mucked around with him?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah. For a bit. He wanted me to go in the stall with him.”
“He wanted to see me in the nick.”
“No.” Blaine exhaled loudly. “I wish I hadn't chickened out.”
“Now you're acting weird,” I complained.
“You could have gotten sprung, you dopey bugger, ” I said flatly.
Despite my immediate reaction, I needed time to think. Had it really happened? Sometimes, he made things up to impress me. Maybe it wasn't true. It was unlike Blaine to keep something like that to himself, yet over the last few days I was discovering things about him than I never thought possible.
“Maybe. No one came in the whole time I was in there. The thing is Allie,.... see I really wanted to.”
“Geez, I really don't know. I mean he kind of looked like By and, well I guess I liked him.”
“You didn't know him from Adam.”
“He was funny as well.” He winced as he smiled. “It was more than I wanted to. I,... I had to. I shouldn't expect you to understand that I liked doing it.”
I winced. I wanted to say that I understood. “You make it sound as if it's the same as us,” I said quietly.
Blaine looked up quickly, still not looking at me, instead focusing ion the blaze of light further up the beach. “So?”
“We're best friends.” I reminded him. “It's different. It has to be.”
“You like doing stuff with me, don't you?”
“I love you.” The three most important words I could ever say were out of my mouth before I realised I was saying them.
Blaine's head swivelled back. He studied me, fiddling with his nearly empty beer bottle. He squeezed the first half of his finger into the narrow opening, wriggling it around. It reminded me of what Bruce did to my bottom, what Byron had done that very morning.
“I know,... and I love By,” he said distinctly
My surprise was evident. I had not expected him to say that. The words sank in slowly. All of a sudden it seemed like there was nothing more for either of us to say.
“This morning,.... um, while you and Bruce were messing around in bed, By told me something sort of weird. It was about you,...”
“He said,...” Blaine took a deep breath. “You're just the same as him.”
“You like boys too. By said,...”
“What?” I demanded, then cutting him off before he repeated the words that I never wanted to say loud. “No way.”
“Man, he's right. So you really have got it bad. You've got a thing for me, haven't you?” He sounded secure, even bold.
The panic was unforgettable. “Uh,...” My mouth stayed open.
Blaine grinned in the darkness. “You do, don't you?” He sounded arrogant, triumphant even.
“Let me spell it out for you.” He licked his lips, smacking them. “Allan Harding likes,....”
“Allan Harding has a crush on me,... “
“It's true isn't it? That's why you said you love me just now.”
“I didn't mean it like that,” I countered quickly.
“Yes, you did.” Blaine smirked. “I dare you to look me in the eye and say you don't love me. I bet you want to,... fuck me.”
“I don't,...” I couldn't say the rest of it.
“Say it,” Blaine insisted.
“I don't want to, okay.”
“What? Say you love me,... or fuck me in the bum?”
I shrugged ambiguously.
“You do, don't you?” Blaine was persistent. He could be a real pain without really trying.
“No! Geez, Blaine. Why are you acting like a drongo all of a sudden?”
Blaine laughed. “Me? I can't believe it. You think I'm the drongo around here? Christ, everyone knows you're a dopey bugger at the best of times.”
Normally, we would have started wrestling at that point. Calling someone a dopey bugger was a sure fire invitation to a fight, even if it was in fun.
“Bloody hell! I don't want to,....” I stopped. The truth was that at that moment, I wanted physical contact with Blaine more than ever before.
“Don't want to what?”
“What were you going to say?”
I shook my head. “You probably want to do it to me because Byron's always doing it to you,” I snapped.
Blaine was surprised by my outburst. I was surprised as well.
“What By and I do has got nothing to do with it. You've got the hots for me, and we both know it. Hell, everyone knows it!”
I grimaced. Byron! Damn him! I wanted to tell Blaine to shut up, that none of it was true.
“Don't get all pissy and pretend you don't have a thing for me.” Blaine smirked.
“You know you want to bum me, Allie.”
“I don't want to talk about it,” I grumped.
“Hey, keep your knickers on. I really don't mind if you do. Being bum-fucked,... Hell, it's no big deal, and I ought to know.”
He kept smirking. There was a funny side to it because unlike me he really did know, yet I wanted to wipe the smirk of his face. It pained me to see him like that, so bold and arrogant, because he was right.
“Fuck off!” I said cruelly.
“You want to, so why not admit it?”
“No way! I'm not a poof like you.”
Blaine laughed again. “You might think you aren't but that's not what everyone else thinks.”
“What?” I demanded angrily. “You mean By and Bruce? It doesn't matter what they think”
Blaine shrugged nonchalantly, as if nothing I said was important. “You are, you know.”
“I'm not.” My face burned.
“There's only one way to prove it.” He was becoming increasingly confident.
“Okay. How?” I growled.
“You stuff your dick up a bum and see if you like it,” Blaine snickered.
I stared, not believing that my best friend would suggest such a thing. Besides, the only person whose bum I wanted to do that to was sitting next to me. Blaine smirked almost as if he knew what I was thinking.
“I'll make you a deal, okay Allan,” he added strangely.
“You can do it to me if you want,” he offered slyly.
Immediately, I realized there was a catch. There always was when Blaine offered me a deal where I got what I wanted.
“Huh?” I muttered.
“Stop with the huhs, will you. Do you or don't you?”
“Get off the dunny!” I exclaimed.
“I'm not joking,” Blaine said calmly. “I know you want to.”
“You're bloody wrong about that, mate,” I said angrily.
My heart hammered inside my chest even as the words left my mouth. Anyone who has been in the position of having their dreams come true would understand. The sense of euphoria, overwhelming excitement, the sheer joy of satisfying the most important need of all, of showing love for another person. The problem was that it was too good to be true so I didn't dare voice what I wanted to say. Instead, I somehow found the breath to say what what I was supposed to say.
“Sure?” Blaine asked teasingly, except he wasn't teasing.
“You're crazy!” I retorted.
“Am I?” he said in a soft seductive tone.
He even smiled. I felt my resolve crumbling. He was sitting so close to me that I could easily reach out and touch him. His face was so dark I could barely make out his features, but I didn't have to see him to know he was so good looking that he took my breath away. One look at his face in the light of day would have been enough to convince me that he wasn't mad, or teasing me. He knew what I wanted to do to him. Most of my fear came from being afraid of people finding out. I tried to reason with myself, that inhibited conscience that my grandmother and mother worked so hard to control.
“There's no way I'm doing that. I'm not a poof.”
There, I said it. I should have felt relieved. Instead, it hurt inside, in the place where I wanted to love Blaine more than I could stand. I wanted him to love me back, and yes, I wanted to have sex with him. It took several seconds before Blaine responded.
“Maybe I'm a poof. Who the hell knows? But I do know one thing, at least I'm pretty sure of it. You are too.”
I choked back my words. What was the point of denying something that I believed to be true.
“I,...” I tried to shrug it off. I exhaled from deep in my chest. It was all so easy for Blaine. “What's the rest of the deal?” I asked cautiously.
“If you want to,.... you have to let Bruce do it to you,” Blaine answered hesitantly.
“Put his dick in your bum.”
“Forget it.” I was shocked even though the thought had already occupied a considerable amount of mental effort on my part over the last few days.
“He really wants to.”
“It's up to you.”
I glared at Blaine in the darkness. The offer was clear. If you want to fuck me, you have to let my brother fuck you.
“When?” I asked.
He smirked and raised his eyebrows, pretending that he was surprised, but at the same time indicating that he knew all along what my answer was going to be. He was mocking me, although he had no reason to. I never made fun of what he did with Byron.
“Tonight,” he said smugly. “When we get back to By's place. Assuming you're up for it of course.”
I was going to get what I wanted, and his brother was getting what he wanted.
“Why wouldn't I be?”
He shrugged. “You don't want to falling asleep the first time someone bums you,” he chided.
“Why would I do that?”
“You're probably going to be worn out after you do it to me.”
He winked and a thrill ran through me. Would I really be tired afterwards? Byron always had a lethargic look when he came out of the bedroom. For that matter, so did Blaine. Having watched them in action that very morning, it seemed to make sense.
“What if I am?”
“Then right when you wake up, I reckon.”
Of course, I had a mental image of that. Waking up next to Bruce, watching the gloom fade into light, the first rays of sunshine, the sound of the surf outside. Cuddling with Bruce under the blanket, his strong warm body overpowering me, taking control, just as he had done since the first morning I awoke in the shack. If I was going to do it with Bruce, that was how I wanted to do it. To an eleven year old boy, it was very romantic, almost as romantic as sitting on a nearly deserted beach at night with his best friend, with the moon rising on the horizon and possibility of having sex with him drawing nearer and nearer. I couldn't think of a more perfect place to do it.
“Um,...” I stalled.
“So is it a deal?”
I tried to appear less than enthusiastic, however my penis was standing up. It was as hard as it had ever been. I pushed at it absently. Holding it down was a waste of time. I crossed my legs. It poked up into my shorts. Blaine giggled.
“You know you want to,” he said suggestively. “So does your dick too by the look of it.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked cynically.
“Why?” I was becoming increasingly exasperated, largely because Blaine understood more about me than I did. He knew what I was thinking, what I wanted to do more than anything else.
“We're best friends, Allie.”
He didn't need to remind me of something like that. “So?”
“We've done everything else, why not?”
Given my limited knowledge about sex, that much was true. What was left after masturbating and oral sex? Still, it didn't make a lot of sense. I had to know why Bruce was part of the deal.
“Why do you want me to do it with him?” I blurted out.
Blaine looked down, avoiding me. “He wants to, isn't that enough?”
“Okay. He's already told me that, but I don't get why you want me to do it with him?”
“It's hard to explain.”
“He likes you a lot, Allie. He just has a funny way of showing it. I know he's always teasing you, and he acts like a fucking idiot sometimes, but it's only because he loves you.”
“He loves me. He loves me?” I repeated. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.
“Yeah. Go figure!” Blaine shook his head, then he smiled at what must have been a private joke.
I glanced around, mostly to where the bonfire lit up the night. Bruce was back there. I liked Bruce a lot. Maybe I even loved him, but I didn't love him in the same way that I loved Blaine, at least not yet.
“He really wants to do it to you. It'll be like a Christmas present sort of, “ Blaine joked. “It's what he wants more than anything else and you can give it to him.”
“Yeah, right. Do I have to wrap myself up too?” I said caustically.
“It'll be like a Christmas present for me as well, Allie. See, I really want you to do it to me. Even if it's just once.”
“You want me to do that,... to you?” I asked uncertainly.
“Geez. I told you that. I've wanted to do it for a while now. I think you want to do it too. Let's stop fucking around,” he said softly.
With that, Blaine rolled over onto his belly, lifting his belly up off the sand and bringing his knees up under him so that he was crouching. Neither of us spoke. My heart began to pound rapidly as soon as I appreciated why he was in that position. Head down, bottom up. It wasn't the first time that he crouched before me like that. The last time was when we were playing in his bedroom a week or so earlier. Then, it meant nothing more to me than a way to drape myself over him and pretend I was riding the 'horsey', but suddenly it took on an entirely different meaning. My penis was erect then too. Looking back many years later, I wondered whether perhaps Blaine knew exactly what it was that I desired more than anything else. I worried that he was taunting me, or trying to see how far I would go if I was given the opportunity. At the time, Blaine was far more sexually aware than I was. He had been having anal sex for a year by then. I just didn't know it.
The difficulty I faced was sheer embarrassment. I was in love with a boy and I was scared stiff. During the entire time we'd been away I couldn't stop thinking about Blaine. Increasingly, I was aware that Blaine was my life, the reason for my existence. Needless to say my unrequited love was made much worse by what I witnessed in the bedroom only that morning. I was bitterly jealous of Byron. I envied him from my very soul. I wanted to be in Byron's place. I wanted to be joined with Blaine like that. The reality finally came home. My life would be forever tormented. I was in love with a boy and I wanted to have sex with him. It was persistent, unavoidable, and very, very unsettling. My jealousy came from a lot more than simply watching them have sex. The events of the last few days nagged at some part of me. My innocence was fading rapidly while desire grew stronger inside me. And there was Blaine crouching down again only a few feet away from me. He was sun-tanned, slender, and so very sexy that the image was seared into my mind. He looked up at me, smiled knowingly at me, and then he lowered his head. He was offering me the chance of a lifetime, if only I was brave enough to take it.
“You're joking,” I mumbled.
“Nope.” His voice was muffled against his arm.
“I don't know,...” I took a deep breath. “What do I do?”
He looked up again. “Geez, Allie, it's not like it's brain surgery or something. You stick your dick in my bum and fuck me.”
He was trying to be funny, but it didn't help. I wasn't in a laughing mood. Nothing was as serious as proving your love to someone. Did it really matter that the someone was your best friend and not a girl? I swallowed and tried to breath. Blaine nodded his head slowly, encouragingly. Years later, I would recall being extremely nervous, even frightened on my very first time, but it wasn't enough to make my penis wilt. At the time, it seemed as if I was barely aware of what was happening. My heart was squeezed, throbbing inside my chest in a way that was almost painful in the frantic, anxious moments that followed. I knew Blaine was talking about us having real sex, about anal penetration, about me doing what poofters did to him. And if I did that to him, then his brother would surely do the same thing to me. That was the deal. My body tensed and I found myself quivering from the sheer thrill of what was about to occur. At that moment, I wasn't worried about being hurt when my turn came. A boy doesn't fall off a galloping 15-hand horse, immediately get back on, and worry about getting hurt. Life was full of situations where you hurt for a while.
“You can't do it from there, Allie.” His eyes met mine. His voice was authoritative, taking control, raspy with excitement. I envied him his confidence.
“Get behind me.”
Awkwardly, I moved into position. Our knees collided.
“Pull your shorts down.”
Obediently, I fumbled at my waist, unfastening the cord of my board shorts. I shoved them down with the kind of urgency that can appreciated only by a person who has been in the same position. I was afraid he would change his mind if I delayed as much as a second. Unfortunately, I was shaking so much by then that I had difficulty getting my shorts down. Before me, Blaine was doing much the same thing. Suddenly, in the dim light I saw the paler skin of two rounded cheeks. Blaine's bottom was exposed in all of its glory. His shorts, like mine were clumped at his knees. He pulled his tee shirt higher, dragging it along his back until it was gathered near his shoulders. He was as naked as he could be and still be able to put his clothes back on in a hurry if someone wandered along the beach. I did the same, copying his partial nudity.
All of a sudden, Blaine's cool hands touched my warm thighs, drawing me closer. My bare front touched his bare back. It was soft, warm, thrilling, so different to all the other times when our naked bodies came into contact. Maybe it was being there on the beach, exposed for anyone to see if they came close enough. Maybe it was the cans of beer finally taking effect, maybe it was because of what we were about to do, but both of us were trembling. We certainly weren't cold.
Then, as if he was tired of waiting for me to do something, his bottom squeezed back, pushing insistently into my groin. My penis, as hard as steel by that point, poked into his crack. Until then, I had no idea it was still erect. His heat made me quake. I pushed harder, squashing my penis into the gap between his cheeks. It was snug. Reassuring. Instinct took over. I began to move, rubbing it back and forth. Was it really this easy?
“Put some spit on it,” Blaine instructed huskily.
“It makes it slippery.”
I backed away and began drooling beer-tainted spit onto my fingers. Clumsily, I smeared it over my penis. It was slippery and hot between my fingers. It felt more like a metal spike than anything human. I panted from the effort. I was anxious, excited, wondering whether it was all part of a cruel joke, imagining that he would stop me as soon as I tried to insert it.
“If you want to put it in you have to be closer,” Blaine said breathily.
Again, his bottom pushed back as I leaned forward, bringing my front firmly onto his back. This time was different. His buttocks were spread apart and my penis danced along the opened crack with very little restriction. Unlike before, he was slippery too. The sensation was enough to make me groan.
“What are you doing?” Blaine whispered urgently.
“Can't you find the hole?”
“Uh,.. I'm looking.”
Blaine giggled. “You're sticking it in my balls. It's higher up. Bloody hell. Here, I'll show you.”
His hand grasped my penis from underneath and levered it up, then down. Suddenly, the tip was buried in melted marshmallow, or at least that was how it felt to me. Soft, warm, spongy flesh enclosed the knob of my penis. It was nothing like what I expected from touching my own anus. Mine felt like a little wrinkled knot. Blaine's opening seemed to embrace my penis and welcome it. Instantly, my world changed. I had the distinct feeling that it belonged there. Instinct took over again. Shaking with excitement, I squeezed up against him with the single-minded goal of getting it further inside him. The warmth and pressure increased. The sense of enclosure, of being part of Blaine's body slowly crept up the length of my penis. It was going in. Inch by inch, tighter, deeper, until it was hot and throbbing. It took several long seconds before I realised that my penis was actually inside my best friend's body. That was why it was so hot and tight. It was a wonderful realisation. It was all the way inside Blaine and it wasn't coming out any time soon, not if I had anything to do about it. Only when my pubis was firmly seated against his buttocks, did my forward motion end. I knew what came next even though I had never done it before, but instead of launching the thrusts that I so desperately wanted to make, I stopped to catch my breath.
In the interval Blaine's body tightened around me and I groaned loudly. It felt like my penis was going to be squeezed off if he kept on doing it. He released the pressure after a few moments. Then, as I gasped, he giggled. I felt his giggle pulsate through me, the insides of bis body pulling, clamping against my penis. I was inside him, joined to him in a way that I had never imagined possible.
I didn't move. I didn't dare think, let alone say what I was feeling. It was too wonderful to be true. Blaine's heat suffused through me, making me glow with happiness. Slowly, I grasped the significance of what we were doing. I was barely eleven years old and I was making love to the boy I loved.
“See, I told you it was fun .”
I nodded slightly, remotely aware of what I was doing by my moving my hips gently. His body tensed. His bowels rippled against my extended penis. I barely managed to suppress a groan.
In truth I was not really conscious of what I was agreeing to. I had no idea that what Blaine was feeling was even better than what I was feeling. I was part of Blaine and I was as happy as any could be.
“Okay,... Now, it's in properly, you can move it around a bit more,” Blaine instructed patiently.
How could he remain so calm while my body was trembling, while my heart was thumping in my chest. The act of breathing required a constant conscious effort.
“You want to fuck me, don't you?”
The word surged out of me. His opening tightened. I gasped. My penis throbbed relentlessly. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“Then fuck me, for God's sake.”
Was he serious? His voice was becoming querulous,
“Fuck me. Go in and out,” he said impatiently.
“I am,” I gasped, rocking against him, feeling his bowels opening, then tightening. It was too good to be true.
“Harder. You're on top so you have to do most of the work.”
“What do I do?”
“Push it in as hard as you can, and then pull it out. Not all the way though.”
“Like this?” I gave a careful but feeble thrust, forcing my penis deeper.
“Hm,... Harder still. Do it the way you saw By doing it this morning.”
There was something in Blaine's tone of voice that scared me. It was more than excitement. We both felt that, but as he spoke, his voice sent shivers through me. Intensity, eagerness, a shameless desire to be fucked senseless. At the time it scared me, but a lot of boys were like that. However, I wasn't sure what was going on. It was raw lust, overpowering arousal, but all I knew was that I could not interrupt what I was doing. I had to do it harder, much harder. I gave a tentative thrust and tried to pull back in the same way, using my thigh muscles. Blaine's body seemed to drag back against mine almost as if he didn't my my penis pulled back out for even a moment.
“Harder,” he growled.
“I don't want to hurt you.” I stopped moving. The sensations were more than I could stand for longer than a few seconds.
“You won't,” Blaine said reassuringly. “Your dick isn't that big.”
“Very fucking funny.”
“Sorry. Kind of pump it in and out, like you just did, but harder.”
“Do it with jerks.”
Blaine huffed as I pushed up against his uplifted bottom as hard and fast as I could. Twice, maybe three times. I was breathless by then and my mind was in chaos. A shudder ran through both of us. What had previously been wonderful, instantly became 'fucking incredible'. There was no other way to describe it.
“Better, but you have to do it faster. Here, I'll show you,” Blaine muttered.
He shoved back, slamming his bottom hard into my groin. It must have hurt because he grunted. A moment later, he did it again. Then again. His thrusts were like jerks, not leisurely or planned, but sudden. After that, his backward thrusts came fast and erratically, slapping our flesh loudly. All I had to do was hold myself so I wasn't pushed back far enough that I would lose my balance. There was nothing I could do, or needed to do. My life was perfect. I let him do it. He slowed. Instinctively, I placed my hands on his hips and jerked against him at the same time.
“Yeah,” Blaine gasped. “Like that, okay?”
And so Allan Harding learned how to fuck a boy. Blaine liked it hard and fast and as deep as possible, but he was used to having sex with Byron. For myself, I had no idea that anything could feel so good. Within seconds, I was utterly possessed. The sensations were intoxicating to an already intoxicated boy. I was breathless within a minute, less from the effort of thrusting as from the incredible excitement that raced through me. I would never be the same.
I lasted a couple of minutes, although at the time I completely lost track of time. Blaine gasped and groaned and I panted and shuddered and tried to maintain the furious pace, not really believing what was happening. I could hear a wet sound, sucking, squishy, both of us making our bodies smack together. At the time, I realised that it wasn't only saliva making the sound, but where it came from, I had no idea. I didn't know that some Byron's semen usually stayed inside Blaine until the next time he defecated.
“Faster,.... oh God! Do it faster,” Blaine rasped.
He sounded almost angry at me, demanding more than I could provide. I couldn't do it any faster if I tried. Instead, I gripped his hips and pounded against him, using my thighs to slam into him the same that he had done to show me how to do it. His right elbow smacked repeatedly against my right hand. He was masturbating, wanking, himself. Going faster and faster. What happened next startled me.
His body tensed up. I felt his muscles as he strained down, pushing back at me and, forcing my penis in deeply. His rectum seemed to tighten up, so much so that I had difficulty moving it back and forth.
“Yeah! Oh fuck! OH!”
His frenzied bucking and frantic moaning at the end was something I would never forget. He slammed back against me, his bowels cramping, squeezing on my penis. For a few moments I was frightened by the sheer panic of his orgasm, because that was what happened. I could tell by the fact that his jerking was out of control, even more so that when his penis was in my mouth. Then, Blaine's shoulders dropped down onto the sand as if he was deflated. He gasped, still shaking, not moving. He was totally exhausted. After a few seconds, he eased away with a long sigh. As he did so, my penis was yanked out of his rectum. For a while I tried to reinsert my penis again, but Blaine's lying down like that made it next to impossible. I was cheated of my orgasm. Of all the times I've had anal sex with a boy, it was the only time that happened. As much as I I wanted to keep going, I realised that it was over for me as well. It took a while before it sank in. I had fucked my first boy but there was more to it than that. I loved Blaine and the evidence was inescapable.
It was a minute or more before either of us spoke. Both of us recognised that our relationship changed that night. We were still best friends, but it was more than friendship that bound us together.
“Yeah, ace,” I replied quietly.
Blaine straightened out on the sand, turning onto his back and gazing into the dark sky. He sighed again, tired and happy, as much for my benefit as his own.
“You still worried about being a poof?” he asked softly.
“Are you still worried,...”
“I heard you.” I didn't mean to cut him off. “Hell, I don't know.”
“You know what By said to me the first time I did it, Allan?”
I shrugged absently, not at all sure that I wanted to talk about it any more. There was an ache inside me, an absence of something, the presence of something else. I wanted to touch my penis. Only a minute earlier it had been all the way inside Blaine's body. It felt as if it was different somehow. Maybe Blaine's poop was on it. I made a cursory examination but I couldn't see shit in the dark.
“He asked me if I was any different to what I was a few minutes earlier. I wasn't.”
“So?” I replied moodily.
“I realised was still the same person inside. Doing it with him, it didn't mean anything other than I had sex. That's why it's no big deal.”
“Yeah, like there's nothing wrong about having it off with a guy?” I said morosely. “Bloody hell!”
“Nothing. I feel like shit, that's all.”
“Does it really bug you that much?”
Suddenly, I was swamped with jealousy. “It's easy for you,” I retorted. “You have By and Bruce.”
“So do you. Is case you haven't realised Bruce is in love with you and By isn't far behind him.”
I glanced at him. He was telling the truth. “By?”
Blaine nodded curtly. It hurt him to do so. “It's true, Allie. I wouldn't bull shit you.”
I avoided the obvious. I closed my eyes and blotted out the night. Part of me wanted to forget, to go back to Sydney. There was still time to go up to Brindajari and have Christmas with my mother and grandmother.
“What's it like,... with By I mean?” I asked awkwardly.
“When he fucks me?” Blaine finished with a giggle. “It's good, Allie. It really truly is. It's kind of hard to describe. It starts out strange at first. When you feeling it sliding in, it hurts a bit too, but then it feels mostly weird. Like you're getting filled up. It's always like that until he starts moving it back and forth. Then it's like, oh wow!”
I managed a weak smile. 'Oh wow' was exactly how I felt when my penis was sliding into Blaine. Hot, tight, slick, agonisingly sensitive. Oh wow! At the time, even now, I couldn't believe that I'd actually done that. I yawned, absently wondering whether I was so intoxicated that I'd forget everything by the next morning. Sometimes the shearers were like that, what my grandmother called 'drunk as a sailor'. The next morning they complained about headaches and had no recollection of their pissing contests on the grass and crude stories.
“The first time I was scared, mostly because I couldn't stop shaking,” Blaine continued. “By was really gentle so getting it in barely hurt at all.”
“Will Bruce be gentle?”
“Yeah, I expect he will. Sometimes he can be a bit of a bull in a China shop, but he really likes you a lot. It probably won't hurt more than a bit at the start.”
I nodded, grimly denying that it wouldn't hurt. It stood to reason that it would hurt. I was not looking forward to taking my turn with Bruce.
“A deal's a deal,” Blaine reminded me.
“I know,” I returned.
“We better be heading back before much longer or By'll take off without us.”
Blaine scrambled to his feet. His hand extended to find mine. He leaned back, dragging me up from the sand. Other than our faint impressions left in the sand there was no way of telling what had happened there, and when the tide came in, even that would be gone.
The trees were gaunt shadows in the night, lonely meagre skeletons of trunks and branches. Other than the infrequent white mileposts appearing suddenly out of the darkness, it was impossible to know where we were once we were out of the town of Coff's Harbour. Somewhere, out in the gloom was the track to McIntyre Beach. Byron jammed on the brakes at the last moment and the station wagon swerved to a crawl.
“Nearly fucking missed it even with the spots on,” he cursed. “I should have had you up here instead of Sleeping Beauty, Bruce.”
“Not my idea,” Bruce answered.
“Yeah, well,at least you could help me look for the turnoff instead of cuddling back there with your cute little sex pot. Is he still awake?”
“Yeah. I'm awake,” I answered for myself. “And we're not cuddling.”
Bruce snorted. I heard him say 'yet'. Had Blaine told him about our deal? I stifled a yawn. I was too tired to care.
“Talk about a long fucking day,” Byron growled as he shifted to low gear and started to drive down the bumpy track. “Bloody hell! It's worse than ever.”
It was likely that the road had more bumps and potholes than before because of the rain. The car lurched and bucked as we crept long.
“At this rate it'll be midnight before we get back,” Bruce said quietly.
“No shit! Damn, there's a fucking tree on the road.”
I sat up and stared through the windscreen.
“You want us to drag it off?”
“Nah. Fat fucking chance. We'll come back and drag it off when it's light. I'll go around.”
Yard by yard crept by as we skirted the fallen tree. I stole a glance at Bruce. He was sitting up, watching. His head turned slowly, becoming aware that I was looking at him. He smiled.
I shrugged, but I was unable to avoid yawning. Bruce smiled again.
“You can take a nap if you want mate.”
“Old Blainey's dead to world up here,” Byron said over his shoulder. “You'd have to whack the little fucker in the balls with a cricket bat to wake him up.”
I smiled tiredly. I had fucked Blaine. I had fucked my best friend. If I thought about it, I could still feel his anus clamped around my penis, the squeezing pressure and the intense heat inside him. I nearly said 'I know why he's so tired.' Instead I slumped back into the seat, wedging myself close to the door so I wouldn't be shoved from side to side.
“The last time you sat like that, Blainey gave you a blow job,” Bruce joked.
“So?” I asked argumentatively.
“I'm willing if you're able, or is it I'm able if you're willing?”
“Hah hah,” I replied. I poked my tongue out.
“Come on, Bunny.” Bruce licked his lips, then smacked them together wetly.
I glanced up, meeting Byron's eyes in the rear vision mirror. I wasn't surprised. He was always looking at me.
“Hey, don't worry about me, Cuddlepie,” Byron said from the front of the car. “With this fucking excuse for a road, I'm keeping my eyes on the driving, and if I get bored, I'll have my hands full with Blainey.”
Bruce nodded encouragingly. I smiled. What eleven-year-old boy would have been able to resist an offer to get his dick sucked? Not me. Not after what I'd been through since leaving Sydney. His lips opened and formed a circle, driving the message home. Just the blatantly crude expression on his face was enough to raise my interest to a new level. My imagination did the rest. My penis responded in a rush. I barely nodded before Bruce slid across the seat and took up position over the transmission hump.
“Let me undo 'em,” Bruce breathed. He glanced at me, smirking.
I nodded slightly, easily giving in. There was no reason that I could think of why he should not. His hand came forward in slow motion, began awkwardly unfastening the button at the front of my shorts. Time slowed. I watched, feeling uncertain, knowing he would probably want to do more than suck my penis, not wanting to stop him. His fingers caressed my hardness, playfully squeezing on the tip where it was most sensitive. I quivered, tensing as he began work on the zipper. The car lurched and bumped along, throwing us closer together.
“Lift your bum up,” he instructed hoarsely.
I lifted up, letting Byron tug my shorts down my hips. Why try to stop him? So what if he had sex with me? It was no big deal. There was nothing for me to be ashamed about. Blaine had sex with Byron. Why shouldn't I have sex with Bruce. There was nothing wrong with two guys doing it. It didn't mean I was a poofter. Nothing mattered. Maybe I was too drunk to care. It was dark, exciting. I wanted to be naked.
“Your undies too, okay?” Bruce muttered. “No point in leaving your undies on, is there?”
I didn't answer. I stayed there, bracing myself against the back of the seat. His hands pulled on my underpants, dragging them down. I wasn't embarrassed. Except when we donned board shorts to go surfing, Bruce had seen me naked continuously since we arrived, but that night was the first time that he undressed me. Even as sleepy as I was, it was still exciting, feeling his hands on my body, drawing my clothes down until my penis was exposed. I eased back down into the vinyl seat, my shorts and underpants bunched a few inches above my knees. He stared, breathing deeply.
“Let me take everything off, okay mate?” he whispered.
“Huh? Why everything?”
“You're going to get naked anyway when we get to the shack so why not? It's not like I haven't seen you bare before.” His voice was raw, nervous with excitement.
I thought about it, about how wonderful it was to be naked, to be free of the constriction of clothes, to not have to worry about what my mother and grandmother would say. His hands came forward again. I stayed motionless as his hands took hold of my shorts and underpants and pulled them past my knees. He pushed them down my legs. I felt his breath on my bare thighs when he leaned over me.
“Lift your legs.”
I lifted my feet up. His hands pushed the shorts past my feet.
“That's better....” He took a few seconds for a deep breath. “Oh man, you're so fucking beautiful.”
I could barely make out his face in the darkness. He couldn't see anything. Still, it made me feel good inside.
“Okay. Now the rest. Lift your arms,” he commanded.
Obediently, my arms moved to above my head. His fingers brushed my skin sending a tremble through me. My shirt lifted up. He pulled it over my head and down my arms, leaving me completely nude.
“You're getting cold, aren't you?”
“No. I'm fine”
“I can warm you up,” he offered.
He licked his lips with a loud slurp. His cheek brushed my belly. Warm, soft, reassuring contact of skin against skin. I closed my eyes. There were noticeably coarser bristles at his chin, like sandpaper as he scraped against my hard penis. Then, his lips. Wet. Hot. Kissing. Licking. I groaned and gave myself to him. My legs moved apart, leaving my penis standing alone and exposed, wanting a lot more but unable to say so. His lips suddenly plunged downward, his tongue slipping and sliding, covering my erection with saliva, before sucking back.
“Oh shit,” I sighed.
“Your dick is so fucking hard,” Bruce growled.
His mouth was hungry after that momentary break. His lips sank down to my pubis as his tongue swirled around and around. I trembled under him as the car bucked and pitched down the track.
“Hey guess who's finally waking up? Hi ya, sleepy head,” Byron said from the front seat.
“Yuh,... Um,...” Blaine grumbled. He yawned. “Where the fuck are we?”
“About halfway to Bullamakanka, I'd say. Hey, look back there and tell me what your brother's doing to Allan, will you?”
Blaine turned, looking between the two front seats. He looked right at me, showing a flash of white teeth as he smirked.
“I can't see anything except his fucking head,” Blaine announced. “What's he doing to you, Allie?”
“Nothing!” I retorted.
Bruce had his teeth clamped around the tender domed head of my penis. Nipping into the groove, pulling back with a careful scraping motion that made my penis twitch while his tongue swirled back and forth over the tip. It felt a bit like the end of my cock was being gnawed on, yet it was so tantalizing that it was all I could do to sit still.
“Nothing, my arse. Old Brucie's sucking his dick,” Byron joked.
“Lucky Allan,” Blaine snickered. “Having fun are we?” he asked me.
I mouthed 'fuck off'.
“Scoot your beautiful little bum over here so we can cuddle,” Byron ordered. “I'm feeling left out sitting here with a stiff dick while they're back there there having fun.”
“What's the time?” Blaine grouched as he moved across the seat.
“Way past your bed time, spunk boy.”
Um,... must be about 11.30 by now I reckon. We didn't leave Coff's until just before 11.00. Why?”
“No wonder I'm fucking tired,” Blaine yawned.
“ I was wondering about the way you were dragging your tootsies when you can back from the beach, I figured you did more than go for a walk,” Byron said. 'So what did you guys get up to?”
“Fuck off, By,” Blaine muttered under his breath.
Byron bounced up and down with mirth. “Hm,... No way! You didn't bum each other did you?”
I wanted to hit Blaine. I was angry, of course, but I wasn't surprised. Bruce gulped down on my penis, all the way down, and sucking hard enough to make me tense up and try to resist the inevitable sensations. My penis was throbbing between his lips. He pulled up, only leaving the tip between his lips, licking across the head. I quivered, wanting more. A lot more. He pushed down again, sliding all the way, taking my penis full depth into his mouth, then slobbering around the base until my crotch was soaked with spit. His fingers felt under me, squirming around between my buttocks. Of course, I realized what he was doing, what he wanted to do. It was everything I wanted. I held my breath, willing his finger to push inside me.
“Maybe huh? I wonder what that means? Maybe? You wouldn't be pulling my leg, would you, surfer boy?”
“ Nope.” Blaine giggled.
“Maybe? Hm,.... Let me think about it. Knowing you,... hm,... Did you fuck him, mate?”
“I'm not saying. It's none of your business,” Blaine snickered in reply.
“Fuck! Okay, I get it. He bummed you. He did, didn't he? Christ all fucking mighty. He did you right there on the beach? You kids are batty, you know that?”
“Hey man, I'm not saying a word, By,... but only because he'll be pissed off if I tell you,” Blaine taunted. He all but choked on laughter.
“Jesus! I better go to the source on this one. Hey Cuddlepie, what did you and him get up to tonight?” Byron joked. “Or should I say, did you enjoy getting it up him tonight?”
I didn't answer. I was beyond caring by that point. Bruce suctioned my penis until it ached. His lips were closed tight, like a rubber band, like Blaine's anus had been when my penis was inside him. Blaine giggled. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing.
“He did okay, if you must know,” Blaine offered with a mocking tone. “Actually, he went berko at the end, just like you do, By.”
“Oh man! You were gone so long he must have really worn you out,” Byron laughed. “Hey Brucey, it sounds like our little bum-virgin took one step closer to sitting on it. Hey, I reckon you might be needing this before much longer. Maybe tonight's your lucky night. ”
I had no idea what was passed through the gap between the two bucket seats up front. My mind was on something else. Bruce's head was moving slowly up and down. He seemed to be so focused on what he was doing that he may not have heard what Byron said. Maybe he did. His left hand left the inside of my thigh where it had been resting. I heard a click, a snap, a sound not unlike that of a lid being lifted off a jar. He resumed sucking in earnest. Somehow it felt different, far more intense as he licked and kissed and sucked on my short hard penis. All too quickly, I began to twitch, lifting up, writhing, absorbing every wonderful second because I knew what would happen sooner or later. The approach of orgasm, even though it was dry and bordering on painful at times, was already very familiar to me. There was no other feeling even remotely comparable. I tensed, wanting that final awesome pleasure while I tried my best to hold it back.
Bruce's fingers scooped up my testicles, fondling them. Suddenly I realized that they were slippery with spit. He rubbed, tugged, rolled, and squeezed them until I was uncomfortable, but it was in a good way. Even the jolts and bumps from the rough road were enjoyable. With the windows down, the heat inside the slow moving car began to increase, yet I didn't mind. I existed only for a single purpose. The rest of the world faded into obscure darkness until only Bruce's mouth and fingers remained. My knees moved further and further apart until my legs were spread as far as they could go against the seat. There I sat, no longer breathing deeply but in short erratic gasps. The sensations were overpowering, infinitely delightful, agonizing in those final moments. Then, Bruce stopped sucking.
His spit-slicked fingers, his whole hand, managed to slide under my bottom, all but lifting me up from the seat. I groaned as his lips began to move higher, depositing kisses on my belly, my chest, going from one nipple to other in a game whose sole purpose seemed to be tormenting me. It made me tremble with joy. At the same time, one of his fingers searched expertly along my crack. My arms locked around his head and neck, hugging with all my might to increase the contact of our bodies, to keep his lips from leaving. I wondered whether he would kiss me on the lips. I wanted to do that again. As his lips grazed mine, his left hand grasped my hard penis and began to massage it mercilessly.
My heart stopped for a moment when his finger prodded at my anus. It slipped inside me, not far, but far enough that I could feel it burrowing deeper. The spit on his finger must have made it slippery because it seemed to go in very easily. Maybe it wasn't spit? Then, I caught a whiff of the same thing that I'd smelled that morning. I tensed momentarily, pulling my mouth away from Bruce's. His lips immediately moved to my cheek, licking me as well as kissing. He moaned, muttering incoherently, something about me being so sexy, how he couldn't stand it any longer.
That masculine, perfumed smell was the moment of truth. I responded by closing my anus tightly, not wanting Bruce to put Brylcream inside me, because that was what it was. It was the very same greasy goo that he had used on my penis to make it slippery. His finger kept pushing up into my anus, driving further and further into me, his knuckle forcing against the seat until I was no longer sitting on it. Then, in a awful rush, his finger plunged deeper, all the way inside my bowels. I groaned and shuddered and tried to wriggle free. I even tried to lift myself off, but my thighs were stretched so far apart that there was nothing I could do. I sat on his finger, closing my eyes and clenching. It hurt, but it didn't hurt. I couldn't decide. My brain faltered, much like it did when a teacher asked a question and I hadn't been paying attention in class. Bruce's finger began to move around inside me, exploring the void. I couldn't feel much of anything except the tightness where his finger entered. After a few cautious back and forward movements it became almost enjoyable, yet instinctively, I realized that this was nothing compared to how his penis would feel.
Minutes rushed by as the station wagon crept along the deeply rutted road. There was a time when low hanging branches scraped the roof, but eventually they were left behind as the trees made way for the scrub that pocked the top of the ridge. I slouched against the door, my legs spread wide apart, eyes closed, not really believing it was happening. At some point the pressure inside my bowels faded to a dull awareness that something was inside me, moving around. There were times when Bruce's finger rubbed against something inside me, and, like before, I shuddered and gasped, breaking our nearly constant kisses as I panted and writhed. Then, as soon as the spasms passed, I strained downward again, wanting the sensation to continue. His finger moved easily, rhythmically stroking, or flexing, or vibrating. It was very apparent that my hole was getting bigger and bigger, and desensitized as well. The longer and deeper he did it, the more I wanted him to do it harder and faster.
When the upward climb ended, Byron stopped the car. The engine was turned off. Except for the indistinct endless roar of the surf far below, silence descended. I dared to open my eyes. I could barely make out Blaine. He was naked as well, although I had no idea when or where he had taken off his clothes. He was lounging against Byron, his uncle's hand cupping his penis, his head turned to the side. I assumed they were kissing from the smooching sound of tongues dueling and the wet smack of lips.
“You two love birdies want to give up the back seat for a while?” Byron said quietly. “Me and Blainey want to stretch out.”
“Speak for yourself,” Blaine interjected. “I just want a good long fuck.”
Byron laughed and Blaine shrieked, his hands jerking down to protect his exposed groin.
“You'll have trouble sitting when I'm done with you, mate. What about it Bruce? You care if I root your little brother as hard as I used to do you?”
“You can fuck the little bludger all night as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, I was thinking of taking Allie for a walk,” Bruce muttered.
His finger rotated, bending inside me, pushing right into the place that made me tremble. I groaned.
“Yeah, assuming he can still walk after what you've been doing to him for the last ten minutes,” Blaine snickered.
“Where have you got in mind, mate?” Byron asked.
“Um,... Probably out to the point.”
Bruce sounded nervous. Excited too. His finger pulled back, slipping easily out of my anus. Suddenly, it felt very empty inside me.
“Good idea, Bruce. Might as well keep the tradition going,” Byron laughed.
“Don't forget the Brylcream. A little dab will do ya',” Blaine giggled.
“Stop acting the goat, Blaine!”
Bruce reached past me and opened the car door. “Out you get, Bunny.”
“What about my duds?” I asked.
“She'll be apples. No one's around to see you in the raw. There isn't a soul for miles.”
I got out of the car. A moment later Bruce joined me.
“Go easy on him, Bruce,” Byron warned from inside the car. “Slowly, okay? He's probably as ready as he'll ever be, but don't rush it .”
Yeah, I know. Use lots of it too,” Bruce answered calmly. He patted my shoulder. His other hand held the jar of Brylcream.
“Bob's your uncle,” Byron called out. He was trying to squeeze between the two bucket seats. There wasn't a lot of room.
“Bloody hell!” Blaine shouted out. Then, he laughed. “Bugger off. There's no fucking way, By.”
'Trust me. I know the signs. He's going to come back drooling spunk.”
“So! Cripes,... put it in slowly, By. Okay, that's better,... ”
“Yeah, I know what you like. You little beauty,” Byron growled menacingly . “You're going to have trouble sitting and shitting when I'm through with you.”
I couldn't see what was happening inside the car, but it sounded like fun. Then, the door closed from inside, almost slamming.
Bruce smiled down at me. “Let's go, sexy.”
He took my hand, leading me forward. Within a couple of paces I discovered that we were walking along a narrow track not unlike a sheep path. There were low wizened bushes either side so we went single file. I followed obediently. The night closed around us like a shroud of secrecy, but Bruce seemed to know the way. Walking felt strange. It was oily and loose between my buttocks. Even the inside of my thighs were slippery. Inside me, there was an ever-present awareness of something I had never known before. It was the feeling of being empty, of needing something big, hot, and thick to be inside me. It was disconcerting to say the least.
“Where are we going?” I asked after we'd gone a few hundred yards.
“We're nearly there.”
We were rapidly approaching the end of the headland, there were rocky cliffs on the southern and seaward sides. To the north, the side that overlooked our beach, there was a steep, grassy hill spotted with stunted banksia trees. Below, the surf rolled ashore or crashed onto the rocks at the base of the cliffs. It was romantic and lonely. Bruce stopped, reaching back for my hand. He drew me closer, pulling my naked body against his. It felt good.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he whispered.
“Yeah, that's me all right. Don't be a dingbat,” I replied awkwardly.
“Whatever happens,... Bunny,... it'll be our secret, right?” Bruce asked. He had a foolish look on his face. “You can't tell your mum, you know, or anyone else either. I don't mean By and Blaine,...” He sounded more nervous than I was.
I nodded slightly. I was overwhelmed by the majesty of the night time view. Blaine and I had climbed the hill the day after we arrived. The spectacular coastline stretched as far as the eye could see. In the darkness, the hills were barely distinguishable silhouettes, the breakers, faint, nearly parallel lines. Bruce's hand was reassuring. He seemed to understand what I was thinking.
“Fucking awesome, isn't it?”
“By brought me here my first time. It was dark like this too. We'd been surfing all day and after dinner, well,... we went for a walk and we ended up here. Man, I was also afraid. We'd played around a lot, but we still hadn't gone all the way,...”
I gazed around me, ignoring Bruce, trying to convince myself to be brave.
“Will it hurt?” I murmured.
“Yeah, but only for a minute or two. There's an even-stevens you'll bleed a bit too.”
“There's blood?” I asked, not that blood bothered me.
“Um,... There might be some, but it stops pretty quickly,” Bruce added hastily.
“Blainey didn't bleed at all.”
Bruce laughed, playfully cuffing my bare shoulder. “You drip. Blaine's had By's dick up his bum more times than he can count.” He flicked at my penis with his free hand. “Anyway, even if it was his first time, this little fella is no where near big enough to hurt him.”
“By said it'll be big when I grow up,” I countered defensively.
“Well, that's true, but not yet it isn't. It's perfect as far as I'm concerned. If what By says about you is true, you're lucky as a fly on shit.”
“You like boys, don't you?” Bruce asked in a sly tone. I didn't answer. “Well, one day your dick's going to be long enough to make a boy really happy, that's for sure. Not that it matters much right now because what I've got in mind for you tonight doesn't include you fucking Blainey's bum.”
He grinned. He tugged on my hand, drawing me down onto the prickly grass and coarse sand. There were bits of gravel everywhere. I knelt, facing Bruce. He gazed at me, still holding my hand, reaching up to my face with his other hand.
“God, you're really the cat's whiskers, aren't you? You're more beautiful than any fucking sheila.”
I didn't say a word. His fingers stroked my cheek, sending a shiver through me. I would have given anything to be kneeling there with Blaine. Instead, it was Bruce. Despite his intensity, all of my thoughts were of what happened only a hour or so earlier. I remembered Blaine kneeling in the sand, bending over so that he was crouched before me, opening his bottom by pulling on his buttocks. I waddled closer, my shorts bunched at my knees, realizing that my penis belonged inside my best-friend's body in a way that I'd never imagined possible. For those few all-too-short minutes, we were joined together. It wasn't the terrible thing that other boys said it was. It was so wonderful that I would remember forever the night when Blaine and I made love for the first time. I was still the same person, yet I would never be the same again. Now, Bruce was going to do the same thing to me.
“Man, I'm as thick as a fucking brick. We should have bought a fucking blanket with us,” Bruce complained. He sounded breathless.
“There must be some grass around here, besides bloody bindy-eyes,” I suggested, picking out a small grass thorn from my knee.
“Yeah, there is somewhere around here, but it's so bloody dark. Fuck! I should have brought a torch too. Better, I reckon we should have stayed in the car and made By use the front seat,” Bruce laughed. “That way all four of us could have stunk up the car. Um, I know,...”
“I'll take my shirt off and you can lie on it. How about it?”
Before me, Bruce stripped off his shirt hurriedly. Perhaps he sensed that any delay might cause me to lose interest. I could barely make our his darkly tanned chest. His nipples were hard little nubs. He straightened out the shirt on the ground beside me, barely able to hold back from laughing.
“Ripper. Crap on my shirt and I'll never forgive you.”
I thought he was being serious until he grinned at me.
“What's up, mate, besides my dick that is?”
I shook my head dully. “Nothing. I must have drunk too much earlier.”
“No shit! I kind of noticed you were tipsy back in Coff's. I should have stopped you after a couple of tinnies.”
“I'm not drunk.”
“Of course you're not. Anyway, it wouldn't matter much if you were.”
“You won't feel it as much going in. Judging by your dong, you're horny enough.”
I saw Bruce's teeth when he smirked. I glanced down. My penis was straight and pointing upward.
“Okay, lie on my shirt, you little larrikin so we can get the hard part over with.”
There wasn't much room left after I moved into place. I brought my knees up so that my feet were on the bottom of Bruce's shirt. There was nowhere left for Bruce to lie down. Even if we laid side by side, one of us would be in the gravel. I gazed up at the sky, a seamless black velvet stretching from horizon to horizon that was pinpricked with brilliant stars. Except for the surf and gentle breeze, it was just like lying in the grass at Brindajari at night.
“I've got to put a bunch more of this stuff up your bum first,” Bruce said hoarsely. “The more I can get inside you the better it'll be for both of us. Lift your legs up, Bunny.”
Obediently, I lifted my legs but he guided them even higher until my knees were close to my shoulders. His fingers felt between my buttocks, worming into my crack. There was grease on his fingers, cool, relaxing, perfumed Brylcream. There was a lot more of it than I expected. My rear felt like it was covered with it. By then, his fingers were slipping and sliding over my nether opening. Back and forth, not really digging in, but making circles, repetitively stroking the one part of my body that I'd never given any thought to until the last few days. A minute or two passed. I wriggled around because I couldn't get comfortable.
“Just relax,” Bruce crooned. “That's all you have to do. Relax and enjoy, and let me do all the work. See, it feels nice, doesn't it?”
He was squatting next it me, his hand cupping my cheek, his fingers embedded between my buttocks with one finger extended slightly, barely entering. I couldn't help squeezing against it even though I wanted it deeper. I suppose I was used to it by then. I knew what felt good and what didn't. I nodded once. Bruce smiled and pressed gently. His finger inched forward. I felt the tip pass through. It wriggled slightly, proving it was inside me. I sighed in relief, resting my head in the sand. Bruce seemed to tower over me, blocking out the sky.
“Does it hurt?”
“You like it?”
“It isn't so bad, but it's not your dick, is it?”
Bruce giggled, sounding very much like Blaine. He inched closer.
“I'm going to put it in,...” he breathed. “You're already pretty loose after what we did in the car. Just don't try to fight it and it should be okay. It helps if you push out.”
At first it just felt nice and warm, a reassuring pressure bulging between my cheeks. It was centred right over my anus. I closed my eyes, pretending it wasn't Bruce, but Blaine. Would Blaine ever do it to me? My intuition said that it would be a lot of fun having Blaine's penis inside me. If he wanted to, I would agree in an instant. Even more, I wanted to do it again with my penis inside him.
Bruce pushed forward, firmly, resolutely, demanding entrance. I tensed up, closing him out.
“Not like that,...” Bruce huffed. “Just relax and let it happen. Go with the flow, man.”
“Stop if it hurts, promise?”
“Yeah, I will. I promise, mate. But it always hurts a bit.”
“Eh, what did you expect... You're doing great. You're so fucking tight, I might even spunk before I get it in you. Push out when I push. Like you're taking a shit. That usually helps.”
I tried. God, I tried. He pushed harder. All of a sudden it started to hurt.
“Stop!” I squeaked.
Bruce stopped. “You want me to take it out?”
“No. I need to get used to it, that's all. How far?
“Just the tip. It's barely in your hole.”
“Oh. Shit.” It felt like two inches.
Bruce sighed. “Man oh man. You're so fucking tight,” he muttered. “It feels like it's squeezing the top of my cock off.”
“So? It's not my fault,” I whined. “Stop complaining. It's hurting me more.”
He eased back, no longer forcing himself against me. It felt better almost instantly, even though Bruce's penis was still there. Blaine said the hole stretched. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. There was only one way to find out.
I took a deep breath, readying myself for more pain. “Give it a burl, but go real slow.”
“You sure?” Bruce sounded less sure of himself. “I don't want to rupture you. Your bung hole is tiny compared to Blaine's.”
I nodded, realising what needed to happen. It was just like a big turd going through.
“I think I'm okay now. You can have another go, if you want, but go slowly, okay.”
“Bully for you.”
Bruce leaned forward, pushing steadily harder. Right away I could tell he was going to force it in. So much for promises. I took a deep breath. I wasn't going to cry. No way. Pushing down wasn't as easy as it sounded, not when it hurt. His penis was much too big. I couldn't do it despite my promise to Blaine. Suddenly, there was burning soreness where his penis was. I groaned and shook my head bitterly, shoving at his shoulders, not realising that the worst was over.
“It's in,” Bruce grunted. “Oh man,... it's fucking inside your bum, Allie. I love you so much.”
Amidst the agony of my first penetration came a growing awareness of a huge lump inside me. Was it possible? The pain dulled sufficiently for me to appreciate that inflated sensation that every boy experiences when he has sex with a man. My anus was slowly but surely giving way, not ripping open the way that I worried about, but dilating just as nature intended. The pain dissipated even as I became increasingly aware that the bloated head of Bruce's penis was actually inside me.
“Hurts is the fucking understatement of the year,” I gasped.
“Takes a while,...” Bruce breathed in my ear. “You're so fucking tight. Oh man. I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm going to spunk any fucking second now.”
His hips shoved against my bottom, slowly, powerfully driving his man-sized penis deeper. I groaned. I felt it going in, taking possession, stretching my anus even wider because his penis became thicker in the middle. I hated it. It felt like I was being forced apart, like something was filling me up more and more until I would surely explode. Then, he stopped. Later he would tell me that it wasn't much more than halfway in, At the time, it felt like I was sitting on a cricket bat handle. My bowels tried to push it out. It was impossible. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. He breathed in, shaking slightly.
“Oh fuck. Jesus. I can't hold it. I'm sorry, Allie,... Fuck.”
He slammed against me. I wasn't ready for that. I yelped. He pulled back. He thrust again. His penis slid through my bowels and stabbed into me. It had to be deep inside my belly. I shrieked, expecting pain. Instead, it barely hurt. Not the agony I imagined, but something else. Pleasure? No, not that. It was an awesome, overpowering sensation that made my entire body shudder uncontrollably. He did it again and I groaned from deep inside. Long before I was ready, his penis jerked back. He lunged again. I felt the wind being forced out of me. His penis seemed to swell up even more, becoming so large that it no longer slid back and forth, but dragged me with it.
He stopped again, straining. His penis was jerking of its own accord deep inside me. It felt burning hot. I could feel it throbbing. Even in the darkness, Bruce's face was contorted in the grimace of ecstasy. It made me happy to see him like that.
“Yes,...” He spasmed violently. “Oh God.” Another spasm. It pulsed through me, exploding heat into my core. “I love you... Oh, Allie... Fuck,...”
The remaining spasms lasted only seconds, like an eternity. He discharged his thick manly seed into my immature body while I pretended it was Blaine's watery ejaculation instead. Then, he slumped down, crushing me into the ground. It was a long while before I could stop crying.
Finally, Bruce eased away, using one arm to hold him himself up. He stroked my face, rubbed my nose, tickled behind my ears, caressed my lips with a feathery touch of his fingertips.
“God, you're so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
“Stop saying that,” I muttered.
“I'm sorry I hurt you.”
“It's okay now.” I sniffed, rubbing one cheek against my shoulder, the other against the back of my hand.
“I'll take it out, okay” Bruce offered nervously.
He pulled it back slowly until only the head remained inside me. With a little tug it plopped out. Again, the empty feeling returned. It was no different to when he used his finger. I breathed out in relief.
“Oh man. I can't believe it. I really fucked you, didn't I Bunny?” Bruce proclaimed. “I keep thinking it was a dream, but I really did it. Oh man,” he said anxiously. “I fucked you.”
I lay there. There was an ache inside my belly, lower, deeper. There was a feeling that I was much bigger there now. That something was taken from me, but something had been put back to replace it. Bruce's semen, his spunk was inside me. It wasn't an awful feeling at all. If anything it was satisfying. Part of Bruce would always be inside me, yet I still felt empty.
“You want to know something, Bunny/”
“ You're not a virgin any more.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
I couldn't help being argumentative. Truthfully, at the time it hurt, but less than a minute later I was convinced that it really didn't hurt. It was certainly nothing like what I'd been expecting. The worst part was feeling so full that bursting open was more than a remote possibility, then all too quickly, I felt very empty and as if I was completely drained of energy. That, and it was wet and slimy between my buttocks.
“So nothing? Losing your virginity, it's cool that's all.”
“Yeah, it's cool, except you're squashing me.”
“Sorry.... I'm really sorry if I hurt you,” Bruce murmured. He blinked.
“It's okay.” I didn't want him to cry. There was no reason for me to be cruel to him. Absently, I wiped my cheeks again, smearing away my own tears.
“Oh man. Allie, it was so incredible,” Bruce babbled in awe. “You don't mind if I call you Allie. I known that's what Blainey calls you,...”
“I really didn't want to hurt you, but I couldn't stop myself.”
“It's no big deal.” I relented a little. “it was going to happen sooner or later.”
Bruce winced. “Yeah I guess so,... Don't tell By, okay? I promised him I'd do it slowly until you got used to it. I'm pretty thick there, you know, and you're so small,... It must have been terrible for you,...” He sniffed. “Fuck, I'm sorry.”
I managed a weak shrug. Hesitantly, I inserted my hand between us, feeling my cheeks, the heat emanating from my crack, the wet slipperiness everywhere. My hole was distended. Two of my fingers easily pushed into the gaping hole where Bruce's penis had been. It was hot and oozing liquid, and very mushy. However, it really didn't hurt. If anything, it was numb.
“I kind of lost control see,” Bruce mumbled. “I wanted to fuck you so much I couldn't stop myself.” He shook his head in dismay. “Oh man, I'm such a bloody idiot. I could have hurt you arse hole so badly. I'll understand if you hate me, but,... well, what I said, I really meant it, you know.”
“At the end, when I said I love you Allie, I meant it. I love you so much it hurts inside,” he said simply.
I smiled. It was nice to hear because I worshipped Bruce McIntyre. I thought he was incredibly handsome, and he was probably the smartest person I'd ever met. He was destined to be the greatest surfer ever. I liked him more than anyone I knew, but I really didn't love him, not like I loved Blaine. Perhaps I should have remained silent. Instead, I sighed.
“I love Blaine,” I said quietly.
Bruce nodded. “Yeah, I know, okay. By told me. But it's only because he's a boy,” he added confidently.
I winced, but there was nothing I could do to change the truth. Bruce awkwardly clambered to his feet. He extended a hand down and took my hand easily lifting my limp body up.
“Yeah, I think so,” I muttered.
My legs felt weak. For the first time in my life I was very aware that there was a hole between my buttocks. I tottered, bowlegged, waiting while Bruce gathered up his clothes.
“There's no point in me getting dressed again,” he remarked. He took hold of my hand again and drew me close to him. His hand slipped behind me, pressing on my greasy bottom, bringing me closer. I tensed.
“Does it hurt?”
“It's okay,” I said evenly.
“The next time will be better,” Bruce said calmly.
I wanted to tell him that there wouldn't be a next time, but there would be. The pain was only bad at the start, just the way I'd been told it would be.
“I,... I didn't want to, but,....” I shivered nervously, ready to admit a little bit of the truth. “It really wasn't that bad.”
“Allie, I know why you did it with me. It's because you fucked Blainey on the beach tonight,” he said softly.
“I couldn't help it.”
Bruce shrugged. “I don't care if you do it with him. Blainey likes it in his bum a lot more than I ever did, but even if he didn't like it, you'd still want to do it to him.”
“Don't worry about it. See, you're just like Byron, Bunny,” Bruce concluded quietly.
He turned away. I caught up with him as we began to walk back to the car.
“You like boys, mate.”
Bruce affectionately patted me on the shoulder. I found it difficult to believe he was reassuring me about something that should have been disgusting. It was as good as calling me a pervert. With my mind on that, I stumbled in the dark, but he reached out and grabbed my arm before I fell.
“Stay close, okay. There's a bunch of rabbit holes around here. Of course, you're probably used to that at Brindajari, aren't you?”
I shrugged. The last thing I wanted to talk about was Brindajari. “What did you mean about me liking boys?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could under the circumstances.
“Nothing. That's just the way you are, Allie. When you look at By's boy magazines, you get really excited. Just like Byron does. I've seen him look at some of those magazines for hours.”
He chuckled. “He gets off with them too. That's why some of the pages are stuck together.”
“Oh? At least I can't be blamed for that.”
Bruce stopped. His free hand moved to my face, gently stroking my face.
“Man, you're one cool kid. You know By and I pretty much had you figured for something of a pansy, being a mummy's boy and all.”
My face inflamed instantly. If there was one thing I was not, it was a pansy. It was true that I wasn't as rough and tumble as some of the boys at school, but I was a long way from being girlish.
“No shit. Blaine never said you were, but you can't blame us, you know. You even sing like a bloody girl.”
“I can't help my voice,” I whined.
“Your skin is so soft and there's practically no hair on your body, just like a girl,” Bruce added.
“Huh? What's my skin got to do with it?” I grumbled.
“Hell, even my mum says you're too good looking.”
I brushed Bruce's hand away. Then, I ignored him by gazing past him, out to sea. The waves were getting bigger again as the tide turned. The sound of the surf was the same ever present if dull roar that I was so used to that it was only noticeable when it stopped.
“So nothing. It's just that you're different.”
I went on the attack. “How so? Am I all that different to Blaine?”
“You're nothing like Blaine.”
Bruce started walking again, leaving me standing alone.
“How?” I called out. I had to hurry to catch up.
“Well, let me put it like this. You know those magazines of By's? Blainey loves looking at the pictures of men's dicks. It turns him on.”
“Really. You get horny looking at boys.” He looked smug.
“I don't!” I was becoming increasingly exasperated.
Bruce's expression said otherwise. “Face it, mate. Boys turn you on. That's why your dick gets hard?”
“It does not!”
“As soon as you see a boy it's like steel, mate.”
Bruce shrugged. “You know those those cowboy magazines you like? I've seen you looking at them so I know what I'm talking about. The boys are much more interesting to look at than the guy who's supposed to be their father, aren't they?”
“Yes, so?” I muttered.
“See, it's boys who turn you on. Blainey likes men. That's why he does it with By.”
“What about you?” I asked boldly.
“Um,... I don't know. I used to do it with Byron a lot too, but not any longer. It's different when you're a kid.”
“Kids do stuff to find out what they like. Doing it with By, well it was fun and mostly I liked it, but I kind of lost interest after a while. I expect I'm bi.”
“It means you go both ways, mate. That's what Byron thinks I am, because I like girls. Anyway, see, I kind of enjoy looking at boys too, but it's nothing like how I think about girls,...”
“But I thought,....” I was confused. “You said,... You said you loved me.”
“The thing is,... well,... I really do love you, Allan, but it's mostly girls that interest me.”
“I don't get it. Why do you keep saying you love me?” I demanded.
“I do love you. See, the thing is, Allie, you're special. For a start you're the only guy I've ever been hot for.”
“Besides doing stuff with By when I was a kid, you're it man. Yeah, I've done some stuff with my one or two of my mates from school, every guy does, but it was years ago and it was only for fun. It didn't mean anything. It was pretty much just another way to wank.”
“What about Blaine then?” I blurted out.
There, it was said. All the intimations about them having sex were out in the open. There was no getting past that I envied Bruce being Blaine's brother. He spent almost his entire life with Blaine while I only saw him at school, or when we played after school. It simply wasn't fair, not when I loved Blaine far more than any brother.
“Okay, so I've done it with Blainey a couple of times, but it was only because By wasn't around to fuck him.” Bruce laughed. “Most of the time it was his idea.”
He stopped. The station wagon was now in sight. It felt strange, watching the darkened car, wondering whether Blaine and Byron still having sex, imagining what Blaine would be feeling if Byron's penis was inside him. I could still feel Bruce's penis inside me, fully engorged, straining, taking my virginity. I wanted to know if they really loved each other. Or was Blaine like his older brother? Doing stuff to find out what he liked?
“Hey, you want to know a secret?”
“What?” I glanced at Bruce.
“Byron's got a real bad case of the hot and hornies for you. I reckon he'll want to fuck you before much longer, Bunny.”
“No way,” I retorted.
“Don't worry. He isn't that big.”
“Very funny,” I growled.
“Hey before you say no, give it some thought. He's had a lot of practice so he knows what he's doing, mate. If you're going to be chasing after boys, I couldn't think of a better teacher for you.”
“Bloody hell,” I said angrily.
Bruce laughed. “Don't get your knickers in a knot. I reckon you'll enjoy it every bit as much as Blainey and I did when we were your age.”