Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2015 23:17:41 +0100
From: Steve Marsh <steve.marsh@gmx.co.uk>
Subject: Young Cocksucker Part 2

(This story is purely a work of fiction)

YOUNG COCKSUCKER

Part Two

After I left Mike's apartment on Friday night and headed home I started
to feel bad, very bad. I guess I was in shock. After all, I was a 13
year old virgin. I had never had a date with a girl or even kissed one,
but now, the reality was I had sucked off a man's cock.

I started to get paranoid. The 'sex education' classes we received at
Junior High had warned us about sexually transmitted diseases. I began
to imagine I might have got gonorrhea or something (this was before
AIDs arrived). As I got off the bus near where I lived I started
spitting as much as I could when I thought no one could see me. I
wanted to get every trace of that bit of sperm that went in my mouth
out of my system.

When I got home I managed to put on an act that everything was normal.
My parents didn't seem to have any suspicions although looking back I
now realize they were probably wrapped up in their own subterfuge and
dilemmas. They were both cheating on each other at the same time as I
found out years later.

That night after dinner, alone in my room I was so confused. Did I
really enjoy having Mike's penis my mouth or was it the overwhelming
experience of doing something so dirty and dangerous that it had
caused me to ejaculate prematurely? Or was it both? I honestly had no
idea.

Mike's final words to me as I left his apartment kept ringing in my
ears. "Make that dirty phone call Steve." he said as he quietly closed
the door. I had the number he wrote down on the scrap of paper, should
I call it or not?

In the end, I couldn't help myself. I decided to make the phone call
because I had to see Mike again. I had to suck his cock again, to see
whether I really did enjoy it or not. Also I really, REALLY wanted to
see the movie Deep Throat. What a 'carrot on a stick' that was for a
horny, inexperienced teenage boy like me.

On Monday after school I found a phone booth somewhere I hoped no one
I knew would see me and I dialed the number as my heart began to beat
faster. No answer. He's probably still at work I thought. I went out
later that evening on the pretense of getting some candy and called
again. Still nothing. I dialed the number yet again making sure every
digit was correct. The phone rang for ages. I tried one last time but
no one picked up.

I repeated the exercise the next day, except I now made 5 separate
attempts, all at different phone booths with at least 2 calls in each
one.

I lay awake that night thinking, where is he? The trepidation of meeting
him again was now turning into trepidation that I wouldn't meet him
again. I started to think maybe he had someone else, like a girlfriend.
That sure made me feel weird. Then I wondered if he might have written
his number down wrong. Then I realized I didn't even know what his
address was! I could probably find the general location of his apartment
block but there was a whole bunch of those buildings and they all looked
the same.

Then the idea crept into my mind that he might have been arrested. That
'undercover cop' I saw in the car opposite the cinema might have tailed
us back to Mike's place.

But then I had the worst thought of all. If his apartment was rented as
I first thought, he might have just upped and left town. Oh shit. I
started to feel bad for not calling him back the very next day, Saturday,
instead of leaving it until Monday. I didn't get to sleep that night
until at least 3 in the morning.

Wednesday I was out of school like the Road Runner straight to the
nearest phone booth. To my relief he picked up after the third ring.

"Hello."

"Hi Mike, it's me." I said eagerly.

"Oh hi Steve, how are ya?"

"I'm fine Mike. Er... how are you?"

"Fine."

There was a brief silence between us then he said "So what can I do for
you?"

"Umm ... I was thinking about that movie you said you could get me into."

"Sure, when?"

"When do you think would be best?"

"How about right now?"

"Now?" I said surprised by quickly this was moving.

"What's wrong with now?"

"Well ... I've just left school and I need to go home first."

"So go home first. How fast can you get here?"

I tried to calculate how long it take and said "By about 5."

"That long? See if you can make it sooner Steve."

"Ok."

Then I remembered I didn't know his exact address.

"Mike! What's your address?" I blurted out.

He told me and then said "Hurry up." and hung up without saying goodbye.

I fumbled like mad to find a pen in my school bag so I could write the
address down on my hand.

I got home as quickly as I could without running, I didn't want to be all
out of breath and sweaty walking through the door. As I let myself in I
called out for my mother but there was no answer. She was probably at one
of her nearby friend's houses. I looked at the clock and realized I was
never home this early. I usually held back after school and dawdled for
ages talking to a friend or two. This is good I thought.

I scribbled Mom a quick note saying 'Gone out with friends, see you later,
Steve.' on it.

Had a quick wash, ran up to my room, changed into a non-school type shirt,
put on a lightweight jacket and made like hell for the bus stop.

I got to the bus stop just as one arrived. That was lucky. I should get
there by 4:30 now, maybe sooner. The thought hit me that I didn't know
what the precise time was because I wasn't wearing a watch. But then
again I didn't own a watch one so why would I be wearing one? I now
understood the importance of time so I resolved to buy a watch as soon as
I could. Oh yeah, my birthday was coming up next month so maybe I could
drop a few hints.

I got to Mike's place and pushed the buzzer and he said "Stay there, I'm
on my way down."

As he came out the door he handed me a baseball cap. "Put this on."

I guessed it was a disguise.

"This way." he said and off we went. Another adventure.

"Mike, I'm sorry I left it so late to call you. I did call lots of times
on Monday and Tuesday."

Mike looked sideways at me "Ha ha, shit man. I forgot to tell ya. I do
shift work. 12 hour days, three days in a row."

"Really? Wow, that sounds like a bum deal."

"It has its advantages. After 3 days on I get 3 days off. Which is why I
was home when you just called."

"Oh right. So, what do you do then?"

"That's none of your beeswax kiddo."

"Sorry." I said. I told myself not to pry in future.

After about 10 minutes we stopped. Mike looked around and I followed him
down a narrow alley. We got to a bit where there was this smell of Chinese
cooking and Mike started examining the garbage cans. After he rocked a few
of them back and forth he said under his breath "This one should do." and
moved it under some windows.

"Keep back in this corner and wait for me to open that window." he said
pointing up.

With that he was gone. I guess it must have been about 5 minutes later I
when saw someone at the window. I couldn't tell who it was because it had
that glass with a lumpy pattern that distorts everything. After about a
minute the window started to open and it was Mike.

"C'mon." he said holding out his arm.

I climbed on the garbage can and he helped pull me in.

"Quietly." He urged as I was clambering over the sill.

I was now in a smelly toilet cubicle and I could make out 'sex sounds'
coming from the auditorium. Mike closed the window as quietly as he could
(it kept sticking) and then took a little screwdriver out of his pocket
and began screwing the window back down.

"Doesn't that mean I'm trapped?"

"We'll leave by the front."

He adjusted my cap for me and said "Count to 30 slowly then come in and
sit 2 seats away from me. Ok?"

"Ok" I said and then he disappeared.

So I started counting. Whatever was showing wasn't in english. "Oooooh
yah yah yah." some guy was going. German? Swedish? I had no idea. Shit!
I'm supposed to be counting, where was I?

Um, Ok, here we go, and I left the cubicle and headed past the sinks
and mirrors for the door.

As I walked into the auditorium and saw what was on the screen I just
stopped and stared. Some broad with huge tits was on all fours with a guy
behind banging her. Those huge knockers of hers were swinging backwards
and forwards with every thrust and withdrawal, like pendulums. Then it
cut to behind the guy. I could clearly see her beaver but the guy's dick
wasn't in it. He was fucking her up the ass. Holy shit!

I vaguely heard the sound of a seat being flipped up and down. I looked
over and saw it was Mike flipping the empty seat in front of him with his
foot. His face was pointing at the screen but his eyes were on me. Oh
right, I was supposed to sit 2 seats from him, not stand there out in the
open like an idiot. I made my way down the row where he was sitting and
took my seat.

The guy on the screen pulled his cock out of the big boobed woman's
asshole and then jizzed all over her back whilst going "WHooOOOAAaaAAA!"
then the broad flipped over and ... the screen went blank. No 'The End'
or anything.

The house lights came on. I whispered to Mike "Was that Deep Throat?"
worried we had missed it.

"No, the featurette." he whispered back while still facing the blank
screen.

Featurette? As I pondered that I turned around to look at who was in this
place. Mike flipped the seat in front again to catch my attention and he
motioned for me to slouch down in my seat like he was. I was sitting bolt
upright. I slunk down into my seat as instructed. Oh yeah, I gotta be
inconspicuous, what's wrong with me?

Mike put a cigarette and his lighter on the armrest of one of the seats
between us. Good idea, a smoke would while away some time. I coughed a
few times not being used to smoking a whole one to myself.

A few minutes passed.

Whoah! The lights were now going down. The movie starts. There's this woman
driving a car along side some river where boats are moored. Then the title
of the movie comes up one letter at a time. D-E-E-P T-H-R-O-A-T. Alright I
think to myself. This is IT!

With that Mike gets up and makes for the aisle on his side. Where the hell
is he going? The movie had just begun. Should I follow him? Mike hadn't
given me any instructions so I decided I had better stay put.

So this woman keeps driving around whilst more credits come up. About 4
minutes later she's still driving around and credits are still coming up.
Is this movie ever going to get started I thought?

Mike comes back with 2 buckets of popcorn and 2 cola drinks. Great, my
mouth was so dry after that cigarette. Ah, now I get it. He's seen this
movie before.

I'm not going to waste anyone's time by describing Deep Throat. I'm sure
everyone knows what it's all about by now. What I will say is that it
BLEW MY MIND. Especially seeing Linda Lovelace take a whole, huge, hard
boner all the way down the back of her throat. Right up to his balls.
Hoe-leee shit! How did she do that?

I had a boner right the way through it, once it got going that is. I glanced
over at Mike from time to time. Sometimes he had his hand on his crotch,
kneading it. Sometimes he was just using a finger to lightly trace the
outline of his cock. Other times he wasn't touching himself at all.

Down near the front there was some guy who was obviously jacking himself off.
Did they even allow that in here? During one of the boring bits I looked over
my right shoulder. There were 2 guys sitting right next to each other who
looked like they were holding each others dicks. I couldn't see their dicks
obviously but I could see where their arms were going. I guess that sort of
thing was allowed.

Later on, during another boring bit, I looked over my left shoulder. Right at
the back there were 3 people. A man, a woman, and another man. The woman
looked a bit exotic like part negro or something. She had deep red lipstick
on her big lips and large eyelashes (most likely false). Her eyes appeared
half shut like she was about to fall asleep. One of the guys appeared to have
his hand between her legs. Was she being finger fucked? I had heard about that
from some guy at school who went to a summer camp. He met a girl from Oshawa
but didn't want to risk getting her pregnant by putting his wiener in so he
finger fucked her, or so he said.

Almost an hour passes and up on the screen Linda is giving another guy deep
throat when Mike gets up and proceeds to exit past me and says "Time to leave.
It's almost over. Stay close to me."

As we got near to the exit I caught a glimpse of the 'exotic woman'. She WAS
being fingered and the other guy was groping one of her tits now.

As we hit the foyer and headed for the front doors Mike sped up using long
strides. I struggled to keep up at first. After exiting we turned sharp left
and just kept on going.

I suddenly realized I still had a boner. First I put my hand over it then
thought that would look a bit stupid so I put my hands in my pockets to try
to cover it up.

Mike noticed this and chuckled. "So Steve, what excuse did you give your
parents for rushing out so quickly?"

My parents! That did the trick. My boner was now quickly deflating. "There was
nobody home so I didn't have to give one." I replied.

We walked briskly back to his place and when we arrived he unlocked the door
and I went in ahead of him and headed straight up the stairs. I was eager to
get inside his apartment so we could discuss the movie in privacy.

As he shut the door he said "What's the time?" and looked over at a clock.
"Quarter past 6, still early. What time do you have to be home by Steve?"

"Well, I'm usually expected to be home by 7:30."

"Guess we haven't got much time before you have to leave then."

Oh shit I thought. "Well, I could call them and tell them I'll be a little late."

"There's the phone." and he pointed to it.

I started towards it then stopped. For some reason I didn't want to use his
phone to call my parents but I wasn't sure what to say. It seemed like a bit
of an insult.

He seemed to sense my dilemma. "Rather use a call booth?"

"Yeah. So it sounds realistic, like outside, that I'm not in someone's place."

"Turn right when you get out of the building, there's one down the side." he
said showing no offence at all.

"Great!" I hurried out, made the call and told mom I was going to be an hour late
which would give us just over an hour for our fun. Mike buzzed me back in.

"Wanna drink? I haven't got anymore wine, I finished that off myself. A beer?"

"No, I don't like beer."

"Why not?"

So I told him about the near barf-bucket incident 3 years ago and he convinced to
take a sip of his beer and surprise, surprise, it seemed I could handle it now.
He cracked open a new one for himself and lit up a smoke, gesturing to the pack
to help myself.

I mentioned to Mike about the 'exotic woman' I saw between two men getting
fingered and felt up.

"Oh her. She's one of the local whores. A crazy nigger whore. Name is Sabrina, or
at least that's the name she goes by."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. I see her around her from time to time. She's totally nuts. Most whores
don't like sex with johns but she's a bit different. Probably a nympho I'd guess.
Likes her drugs as well from what I've heard."

Mike took another drag then said "Don't tell you're interested in her? She would
fucking eat you alive Steve. I'm telling you, bitches like that are nothing but
bad news."

"No way Mike. I'm not interested in her .. I was just curious, that's all."

"Hmmm yeah. Well, never mind that whore-bag, what did you think of the movie
Steve?"

"It was like, just un-believe-able. Like, just fucking wow. It must be the
greatest movie ever. Well ... apart from the dialog ... and the acting, and the
music was shit too."

He laughed. "Reckon you'll be able to deep throat me like Linda Lovelace Steve?"

That caught me off guard. "Well ... I'm not sure." I stuttered.

But, that was what I was really here for. To see if I actually did get off on
sucking his cock. It was already dawning on me that the answer to that question
was yes.

"But I want to try though." I said with enthusiasm in response to Mike's original
question.

"Ok, let's get to it."

He looked at me with that 'look' in his eyes and started to unbuckle his belt
and pull it through the loops.

I stripped as fast as I could and in less than 10 seconds I was naked before him.

"Good idea Steve. I don't want to have to clean up your clothes again."

As he said that it hit me that I hadn't stripped off for that reason. Keeping his
sperm off my clothes was the last thing on my mind. I guess I wanted to be naked
before my man, like an act of submission.

Mike continued to strip off, but, in his own good time. With each item or two of
clothing that came off he would take another drag on his cigarette or take
another drink of beer as he walked around this nervous but eager 13 year old who
was waiting to go down on him. I'm not sure if he was doing this on purpose, but
it seemed like he really knew how to build suspense.

Finally he took a cushion off of an armchair, threw it down on the floor and
pointed to it. There I was, back on my knees again and very quickly Mike's
hardening tool was in front of me, just a few inches from my mouth.

I eagerly got back to work, like this was an extension of last Friday. Nothing
that happened between then and now seemed to matter. I tried to use everything
I had just seen in Deep Throat to please Mike. I licked, kissed, caressed,
kneaded, rubbed, sucked and slobbered all over his hot, pulsating rod.

And of course I tried to deep throat him as well. Unfortunately it turned out to
be a lot harder than just telling yourself to relax your throat muscles and
swallow. Not only was my gag reflex strong but I noticed I just didn't seem to
have the capacity to get it past the back of my tongue. My esophagus or whatever
the hell it's called seemed to be too narrow. I kept gagging.

I stopped and asked Mike if we could change positions. He went over and sat down
on the couch and spread his legs. That wasn't the position I was thinking of but
it still looked good to me. I picked up my cushion, put it down between his legs
and continued with my suck fest.

More gagging as I tried in vain to take him all down. I reckoned I needed to get
in what I now thought of as the 'Linda Lovelace position'. That was lying down
beside him in reverse, but not on top like the 69 position. I thought that way,
the angle of his cock might make it easier because it would follow the curve of
my throat.

"Can we lie down?" I asked.

"Sure."

Mike stood up and took the 3 cushions from his sofa and threw them down to form
a makeshift bed for him and I put my cushion next to his ones. Then I got down
beside him for my new angle of attack.

It felt great to have more body contact with part of my stomach and chest on
top of his body but still no success at performing deep throat. I had gagged so
many times at this point I lost count.

I gave it one last big push, gagged again, and nearly threw up. I sat up and
clamped my hand over my mouth fearing the worst but managed to regain control
and suppress an 'accident'.

"Steve, Steve, take it easy. You're trying too hard. Just go back to what you
did last time."

Mike stood up and I wrapped my hand around his shaft and used that as my buffer
like before. Back on my knees once more, a good position to be in when you've
got a guy like Mike in front of you.

Now that I'd temporarily given up on the deep throat thing I got back to
enjoying the whole cock sucking experience again. I arched my tongue and pushed
up to make sure the head of his shaft was rubbing nicely up against the roof
of my saliva lubricated mouth.

After a few minutes of that he signaled his eruption was on the way.

"Hmmm, hmmm. Oh yeah, oh yeah. Here it comes, get ready baby, here it comes."

He withdrew his shaft from my mouth and began whacking off for the final
countdown.

I closed my mouth and turned my head slightly to one side.

Spurt, spurt, spurt, spurt. In my hair, on the side of my forehead, on my cheek
and some on my chin, almost like last time.

"Oooh Jeeeesus!" Mike said and nearly collapsed down beside me.

I stretched my legs from out under me and leaned back on my hands, half of my
face was covered with his hot seed, a little bit was now starting to drip on to
my chest.

After a few seconds he propped himself up and looked at my face. I could see his
eyes looking into my eyes, then at his own sperm. Then he got up and straddled me,
sitting on my upper thighs.

He was staring at his jizz on my face. He put out a finger and began wiping his
baby batter off my cheek like a car's window wiper collects rain drops. He wiped
up enough sperm that he had to extend a second finger to catch what was had
accumulated on his first.

He pointed his two sperm covered digits at my mouth. I knew what I had to do. I
opened my mouth.

Now I need to tell you a few days previously I had started to test out the taste
of my own semen. At first it tasted really yucky, but then I found I could tolerate
it. I guess it was because I knew subconsciously that this moment would arrive.

His fingers entered my mouth. I closed my lips around his fingers and I wormed my
tongue around them to get as much of his goo off as I could.

He withdrew his fingers, lingering at the end as my lips closed around a single
finger tip. He wiggled that finger tip around in a small circle before finally
pulling it out.

It was strange but it now seemed to me that Mike's sperm tasted better than mine.
I didn't know why. Was a guy's own sperm supposed to taste bad to him for some
sort of evolutionary reason?

He quickly proceeded to 'window wiper' the rest of his goo off my face and chest
so he could feed me a second dose.

This time, after he put his two fingers in my mouth I went "MmmMmmmm." to show
him how much I appreciated it.

Mike liked that.

"Good boy Steve, good boy." He said.

He looked down at my nipples and began to trace around the areolas with both
fingers which were still damp with my saliva and his cum. It felt good.

Then I noticed for the first time that he was wearing a watch and I twisted my
head a bit to see which make it was.

"It's just gone 7." he said, thinking I wanted to know the time.

"No, I just wanted to see what make it was. I need to get one myself."

"It's a Timex." he replied. Then added "Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin."
That was the slogan they used to use on the TV ads where they did things like
strap the watch to an outboard motor propeller and spin it underwater.

That seemed to have given him an idea. He opened his mouth a little and did a
licking motion with his tongue, then got up.

"I know something we can try. You're gonna love it."

"What?"

"All in good time Steve. I need a smoke first. Go clean yourself up."

After I came out of the bathroom I saw Mike was busy at the kitchen sink, making
preparations of some kind with various things. He went over to his kitchen table
and put the chairs to one side.

"Help me with this." he said as he put two hands under one side a lifted the
legs up. We moved it under the ceiling light for some reason.

Mike went into the bathroom and came back out with a bunch of towels, a roll of
toilet paper and a flannel. He spread out the towels on top of the table.

"Get up on the table. All fours."

I did as instructed and Mike went over to the sink and came back with a jar of
Vaseline.

"What are you going to do?" I asked getting more and more nervous.

"Quiet."

He was behind me now. I heard him unscrewing the Vaseline jar. Then a greasy
finger tip began probing my rectum. He's going to finger fuck me I thought!
He worked his slippery digit slowly into my anus. Because I was nervous and
because it was someone else putting their finger up me I tightened up and it
hurt.

Mike paused and then said "Just relax Steve."

I made a conscious effort to relax as he continued to work his finger in
deeper. When it was all the way in he began to slowly rotate it. I let out
a deep breath. It was starting to feel nice. Carefully he withdrew. I heard
him tear off some toilet paper. I guessed he was wiping his finger for the
obvious reason.

Then it began again, only this time it was a different finger, a bigger one.
Probably his 'up yours' finger. That went in without too much trouble. After
another toilet paper wipe I heard him pick up the Vaseline again. He now
began trying to insert two fingers.

"Owwwww! That hurts."

"Ok, Ok. That's enough of that. I think you're lubricated enough."

He walked over to the sink and ran the hot water tap for a while. Then he
put some hot water into a large plastic measuring jug which was already half
full of what looked like soapy water. He put his finger in and then added a
little more hot water.

Then he picked up what looked like a hot water bottle, stuck a funnel in it,
and filled it up with the soapy water. He proceeded to screw in the stopper
but it had this strange looking tube coming out of it, with something else
at the end. Then he picked up both ends and came over to me.

"What are you going to do?"

"Lay down on the table Steve. You're going to get an enema. It'll make you
all nice and clean inside."

"An enema!" I exclaimed.

"These are great. Just relax. Trust me."

As I lay down I found I had to readjust my cock and balls. I pushed them down
between the empty space between my legs. I craned my neck to see what he was
doing. He'd gotten a chair, stood up on in and was hanging the rubber device
from the ceiling light fixture with a piece of coat hanger wire.

Mike took hold of my legs and moved them about 2 feet apart. He then reached
over and ran a finger over my cock and balls.

"Here we go. I'm putting the nozzle in."

I felt the lubed up rubber nozzle probing into me. It was getting bigger the
deeper in it went. Just as I thought it was starting to hurt, it popped in.

"There ya go." Mike said cheerfully. "I'm gonna let the soapy water in now" and
he did something to the nozzle.

My insides began to feel warm. After a few minutes I began to feel full up.

"When can I get up Mike?"

"Just give it a few more minutes, Ok?"

Mike went off to get another beer and smoke. He walked around the table a few
times, smoking his cigarette and drinking his beer and looking at me. After a
while he reached up and squeezed the bag.

"Just getting the last of it out."

With that I now felt extra full. I needed to hit the can soon and I started feel
panic rising. Mike eased the nozzle out and put a flannel on my butt. He took
one of my hands and placed it on the flannel.

"Hold this in place just in case. Off you go." he said pointing to the can.

When I came back I was a bit shocked to see he'd prepared a second enema. This
one seemed to have more water in it than the first. When I came back from the
crapper the second time it was a relief to see the disappearance of the enema
bag.

"Come on. All fours again." He said pointing to the table.

I obeyed wondering what the hell was going to happen next. Mike had another
clean flannel and the toilet roll was still there. He wiped my butt with both,
then brought a chair over and put two of the sofa cushions on it. Then he put
his hands on my thighs and pulled me back so my feet and shins were sticking
out over the table.

"What are you doing now?" I pleaded.

"Well Steve, you know that bit at the beginning of Deep Throat where the
guy was going down on Helen?"

"Yeah."

"That's called cunnilingus. That's Latin by the way."

He started licking my butt.

"This is called analingus."

And with that, he began putting his tongue up my bum.

Oh .. my .. God I thought. Analingus? I've never even heard that word before.

He did all sorts of maneuvers on my sensitive young butt-hole. In and out,
wormed it about, teased it, I just couldn't believe it. It felt good but ...
but, it just seemed so unbelievably dirty.

My cock had gone flaccid during the whole enema episode but now it was rock
hard again. Mike reached up and started masturbating me. That was it. After
about 20 strokes I shuddered and came.

"Uuuhhhhhh." I groaned.

Mike continued a little while longer, milking the last drops of sperm out
of my cock then got up and went to the kitchen sink. He opened a cupboard,
took out a bottle of Listerine, washed his mouth out and spat.

I eased myself down on to the table for a rest. I was overwhelmed.

"Take a little rest Steve but make it quick. I think it's time for you to
get going."

"What's the time?"

"Quarter past 8."

Oh shit I thought. I'm going to be late. Nothing I can do now.

After a few minutes I got up, collected my clothes and started to get
dressed.

Mike, who was now partially dressed, opened a window.

"Getting cold outside, winter will soon be here. Fucking Canadian winters."

I always liked the winter. Lots of fun for kids to get up to I thought. That
kind of reminded me that I was still a kid.

"I wish I had enough money to go to Florida for the winter." he said.

I looked at his clock and tried to calculate what time I would get home.
10 minutes walk to the bus stop. Wait maybe 5 or 10 minutes for a bus. 20
to 25 minutes bus ride. 15 minutes walk from the other bus stop to my home.
I made that about 9:25. Not that late but still not good.

"Ok Steve. Ready to go?"

Mike started to walk towards me then stopped. He had obviously thought of
something.

He smiled and said "How about something to keep you warm on the way home?"

Before I could answer he had turned and went into the bathroom and came
back with a tube of Colgate toothpaste.

What the in hell now I wondered?

"Drop your pants. Quickly!"

Perplexed, I did as I was told.

"Put your hands on the wall. Spread your legs a bit. Stick your butt out."

He put his middle finger in his mouth to get it wet, then goosed me.

"Mike! I've gotta go." I protested.

Then he moved around and put some toothpaste on his little finger making
sure I could see what he was doing. First he smeared a little around the
circumference just above the first joint, and finally put a small dollop
on top.

He smiled and said "A little dab'll do ya."

What? This was getting surreal.

He moved behind me, crouched down, spread my cheeks with his left hand and
eased the Colgate covered digit up my anus. He twisted it around a little
and withdrew, arching his finger as he did, presumably to leave the little
dollop inside me.

"Pull your pants up."

He went and opened the door before I'd finished.

"Off you go!"

With that he put his hand on my buns and gently but firmly pushed me out
and closed the door behind me without so much as a good bye.


TO BE CONTINUED...

(If you enjoyed or have any criticism of this story you can email
me at: steve.marsh@gmx.co.uk)