GENERIC STORY -- by The Flying Gecko I'll never forget it (but you didn't think I would, did you?). It was in the summer, between sessions at school, and I was lounging around home like a lizard. My parents were away, and my brother was out in the woods burying the dog. When suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Knock knock knock," it said. I got up to answer it. Then I answered it. And stared right into the brown eyes of my brother's best blond friend. "Hmmmm," I thought. "What can I do to you?" But that's not what I said. In fact, I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just stood there blushing sexily and smiling like an idiot. I must explain. My brother's best friend was named Stud (pronounced "Stood"), but everybody called him Steve, which is my name, so I called him Kevin, which is the dog's name, or was before he died. (We have another dog named Fru-fru.) Kevin was 5'10", two inches taller than me (let's see, that makes me 5'10" - 2" [mod 12] = 5'8") and two years different in age. He looked to be 170 pounds of solid rock muscle. (I'm not so bad myself, being slim but stocky, with well-defined, bulging muscles.) Kevin had finely chiseled features, perfect teeth, attractive contact lenses, and clean fingernails. Actually, except for his long hair, leather jacket, and the chain around his neck, he looked like a Jehovah's Witness. I must explain. Kevin had been dishonorably discharged from the service last year for his dishonorable discharges. I don't know the details, but he supposedly fathered 3 children in 2 years. My brother says it was all a misunderstanding, he was just a little careless. And there he stood. I was wearing a pair of cut-offs, a smile, and nothing else. He returned the smile and said, "Oh, Steve, Hi. Long time no see." "Hmm," I thought, but decided to keep this thought to myself. "Hi," I said. "Kevin. Nice to see you. You look uncomfortable in those clothes. Why don't you come in and slip into somebody more comfortable." He grinned, pushed his way through the door, and stood so close to me I could smell the faint trace of garlic on his breath. I love Italians! "Time is running out," he said. "Oh no," I said. "There won't be anyone back for hours." He frowned and pushed some paper under my face. "Read this. It'll explain everything." My heart sank, followed by my cock. It was The Watchtower. "Uh, sure." I couldn't help it; I patted him on the chest. "Why don't you come in for a drink?" We went into the kitchen. "It sure is hot," he said. "Why don't you turn on the air conditioner?" "Literary convenience," I said. He frowned again, but removed his leather jacket and shirt, revealing perfect pectorals, bulging biceps, a stupendous stomach, and far-our forearms. He leaned back against the counter. My cock crept toward the top of my cut-offs, and I thought his basket was getting more bulgy. "D'you know what I want?" he said. I could hardly imagine, so I said imaginatively, "What?" "I'd like to hog tie you to the bed and rape you to within an inch of your life." I began to suspect at this point that he was not unambiguously uninterested. He must have suspected something too, for my cock had poked above the top of my cut-offs, and was looking around to see what was going on. But, what the hell. You only go around once in life. You gotta grab for all the gusto you can. He laughed and nodded at the can on the table. "You still drinking that weak, soapy beer?" I walked over to him, undid his pants, and slide them down to his ankles. Holy shit! "Just a second," I said. I ran into the next room and came back with a ruler. 9.26 inches of solid manmeat, at least! Gee, I was only 8 1/2 inches myself. But I was thicker. "Yeah," he smiled, "wait'll it gets hard." He picked me up like a simile, and carried me into the bedroom. I sucked on his tit, but that was just for show. "Oh, yeah, suck that tit," he said, but I suspected that he said that just for show, too. . (N. B.: Story trifurcates. Columns separated thus: 1 // 2 // 3. Follow one column only.) . He lay me gently on // He tossed me on // He dumped me roughly on . the bed, his throbbing maleness towering over me as he . stroked // slapped // mutilated . my face. He bent forward, jutting out his lips with . his tongue // determination // a cigarette lighter . and . kissed // bit // burnt . me . gently // hard // viciously. . My cock was so hard, I could hardly see straight. Then he . lay on top of me // tied me to the bed // got me really scared . and then . he sucked me // I sucked him // he pissed on me . and then . we sucked each other // . we sucked each other // . he jumped up and down on my stomach . until great gobs of white jism came shooting out of both our adjective manhoods so powerfully that they broke the window. Then we lay together sweating . delicately // profusely // like pigs . "Kevin," I murmured, "did you really father three children?" "Well, there was a misunderstanding." He thought for a moment. "That! was a real dog." I had a nasty feeling , but decided not to follow it up, that he wasn't speaking metaphorically. "Kevin, when can we . . ." "Steve, do me a favor." "Yeah, sure." (I thought I just did him one.) "Don't call me Kevin. Call me Fru-fru." . . . . End of the Story. . Effluvia: . . Unused purple words: rod, tool, spurting, hung, balls, appendectomy. . . This story is in the pubic domain. The Flying Gecko would appreciate credit for, and detailed descriptions of your sexual experiences occasioned by this story.