GAY MALE; 'LIFE WITH JOEY: High School Reunion #2: Finch and Joey' {}
( MM, bd/reluctant ) [ 2 ! ? ]

Date: 7/29/2001

WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidencidental. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man sex, abusive/offensive language. Do not read if you are underage or it is prohibited according to the laws governing the geographical location wherein you dwell. There is sex between males, it will sometimes get rough, but that will not always be the case as I plan on playing with several genres, not just authoritarian situations. I am still in the early stages of developing these characters, and this is my first attempt at writing for an audience. These factors will not always be present, and I will warn you when such things do exist. Enjoy!

Copyright 2001 by Chet English. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished, or reposted on another website without written permission from the author.

Note: Some readers may be wondering about episode #1's intent. Joey's reluctance is not with the sex, just with his feelings about his partner(s). Finch and the others enjoyed messing with Joey's head while they were in school. The assault that occured last episode was meant to start out menacing then turn toward reluctance on the part of some of the characters which then became willing participation. I never intended to imply that Joey was not consenting. It did begin as a forceful situation, but Joey's confusion with his own feelings added with his confusion as to the intent of his partners (who are equally confused about themselves) leads to the events about to unfold. This story is about coming to grips with the past and moving on, perhaps with one or two surprises.

Joey doesn't know what Finch is really thinking. There is a lot of bad history between them, and it is this issue which causes Joey's angst.



Hi, I’m Joey. Remember me? I'm 27 and gay and recounting the story of my tenth high school reunion. (Don't worry, it isn't all as brutal as it started out to be.) I'll give you the basics and then move on . . . . I'm 5' 11" tall with dark blond hair, bleached lighter, cut in a spike. My eyes are a very pale blue, but I wear green contact lenses. I weigh 175 pounds and work out to keep everything cut. I'm going to graduate school, but I'm an exotic dancer to make ends meet. Now, back to the story. . . .

WHAT WENT ON BEFORE . . . . Finch looked down at me. His eyes had a mesmerizing effect on me, like the eyes of a serpent that can hypnotize its prey; I knew that if I looked him in the eyes that I would be at his mercy; and he is so cock-sure of himself that he gives me that smirk again. Why is he so sexy? Why do I give him this power over me? I was so caught up in a brain feaver that I hadn’t heard him. I refused to look anywhere but at his entrancing red pubic bush. He gently pushed my head back further. The head of his cock pulled out of my mouth with a resounding pop. I stared blankly, mouth open, focusing on that one place in the universe that I belonged, that intensely hot, perfect, cylinder of flesh and blood that is Finch’s penis.

He forced me to make eye contact and asked, “How badly do you want me to fuck you, . . . Joey?”

My mind was fighting the fog. A part of me knew I couldn't trust Finch, but the other part, the sex-driven animal side, cried out for his cock. When he looked at me that way, his brown eyes staring deeply into mine, I felt the old twinge pulling at me. I have wanted to be Finch's sex slave since I can remember. My teenage years were filled with masterbation fantasies of Finch and his jock buddies "forcing" me to alleviate their sexual needs. Now that it had happened and was continuing to happen, my mind was bleary and I couldn't form a rational thought. I was left reeling from the earlier events and was even more muddled by the change in tone and actions on Finch's part. He was being more gentle now. He had finally called me Joey. And, against my better judgement, I found myself falling for him.

His hand frimly gripping my chin, I was pulled out of my haze.

"Come on," he coaxed me while his thumb slowly teased my lips, "tell me how much you want my cock. Tell me that you want my dick deep inside you."

I stared mutely at this man. I felt strangely disembodied, as if my perceptions had altered entirely and I had never seen Finch before. My eyes drank in his body. I could see his muscled chest rise and fall with his breathing. I was enthralled with the way his red pubic hair caught the light. And, I was drawn by the pulsing of his excited penis. His need was evident; how much he needed sex. There was a steady stream of pre-cum dripping down his cock, mingled with my saliva. My senses swelled with his smell. My tongue ached to taste him again. Slowly, I returned to my body, pulled back by my own overpowering drives.

"Tell me how badly you've wanted this to happen, Joey."

Finch punctuated his sentence by pressing his leaking knob against my lips. My resistances melted away with the searing heat of him entering my mouth again. I was allowed to slowly pull his cock into my mouth. Agonizingly slow, I was kept from going down quickly by Finch's controlling hands. He was in charge. He would direct my actions as he chose. I found myself belonging to him. I guess he sensed my relinquishment; my giving over to his authority. I had hoped that if he did, he would let me finish my decent on his heated flesh. But, I was wrong again. He pressed against my forehead and chin and withdrew his cock from my mouth once more.

"Okay, Joey, no more horseshit. You're going to beg me now, or I'm leaving."

What was I hearing? Finch wanted sex! I know this much. But, what was I hearing here? My mind raced for an answer. All I could come up with was that somehow Finch needed me to need him. Could that be it? Had Finch thought about me as much as I had thought about him over the years? Had he secretly wanted to do this with me ever since that day in the locker room when we were fourteen?

"Alright, Finch, you win." I began. "I need you to fuck me. Please, fuck me, Finch. I've wanted you to fuck me for so long."

His hand never left my chin as I begged. I noticed his cock throb while I pleaded; the begging turned him on. A slight grin—the sexy, devilish one that always preceded his cruelty to me—spread across his face. "Keep going . . . ."

Alarms may have gone off at the old signal, but I either didn't hear them or was ignoring them.

"I need you to spear me with your dick, Finch. I've wanted you to give it to me since we were kids. Ever since I caught you stealing that jockstrap from the equipment room. Please, Finch, please, I need you to deep-dick me."

He growled with excitement as he pushed me to my back then nearly jumped on top of me. His breath was hot in my ear as he whispered throatily, "Yeah, come on, beg me for it! Beg for this hot, juicy rod of mine to ream you out good."

He was pinching my tits with his hands as he ground our bodies together. I found his tongue in my mouth, probing deeply. His hands left my chest and slid down to my thighs. My legs bent; my knees found their proper place around his hips. I could feel the angry heat from the head of his dick as he masterfully manuvered it toward my ass without using his hands. He pulled up off of me slightly and I opened my eyes. In that instant, our eyes locked and his sexy grin etched across his face once more. I wrapped my arms around his strong back and tried to pull him to me. Without breaking his gaze, he poked repeatedly at my exposed orifice, inflaming my desire.

"Please, Finch," I sobbed, "I need you inside me. . . . I can't wait any longer . . . . You've gotten me so hot . . . ."

"Ohhhhh . . . ." we exhaled into each other as he entered me. A mere fraction of space splitting us, the moisture of our gasping, warm between us, filled my open mouth as his cock slowly slid into me, filling me completely. It was intensely electric, erotic. Our eyes never waivered as he plumbed deeper into me until I could feel his pubic hair gently scratching the shaved region beneath my balls.

We stayed in this position for what seemed like hours. We looked into one another's faces, exploring the edges and lines time had made in the last ten years. Finch's long, red bangs were hanging down, occasionally dropping into my eyes. His grin had returned the moment he hit bottom.

I looked up in confusion then asked, "What's the matter? Why have you stopped?"

Finch's grin never left his face as he said, "The question isn't why have I stopped, but why have you?"

It took me a minute to think through what he was telling me. Did he mean for me to somehow fuck myself on his dick? In this position, it didn't seem likely. That quickly lead me to my next conclusion. Finch wants me to keep begging him.

"Ugh, I've got to get fucked!" I moaned. "Finch, please, stop messing with me and just fuck me."

"Not good enough," came Finch's reply, and he refused to move a muscle.

"Please! I need you to fuck me."

"Nope," he grinned down in his saddistic way. "I'm not gonna fuck you until you show me that you really need it."

I was in agony. I needed Finch to fuck me. Finch knows how he gets to me. I don't know how he knows it, but he does. It seems like he has always known it. Now, I was stuck trying to figure out what it is that gets to Finch in order to get him to fuck me. I tried to squirm against him, but he kept me pinned. He just stared down at me, grinning. He would occationally throb his cock within me as a prod to keep me guessing.

"Finch, I don't know what it is you want! How can I show you that I really need to get fucked any better than having your dick in my ass?" I was totally frustrated. I still didn't get him.

He chuckled at my frustration as much as my words. It was, in part, true afterall. However, he still refused to move.

"You must not really need fucked if you're giving up so easily," He gloated.

That was it! I had had enough of this self-centered bastard. He was always so smug, so secure in his power over me. Well, I was finished. Fuck or no fuck, I was done with Finch. I started to buck and strain against his weight on me. All the while, Finch's grin never left his face. I realized too late that this was partly what he had wanted. He had maintained his body well since high school. Where I had used weights and workouts to trim and sculpt my body, Finch had continued with a healthy regimen and strength building regime. I was out of my league. He could hold me down until I was completely exhausted and I couldn't do anything against it. However, while I was resisting him, he did begin to move in me. There was pleasure for us both while it lasted, but I couldn't keep up the energy needed to resist him until we both came. So, the gears began to spin once more. My physical resistance was a step in the right direction; my verbal pleas were inadequate; so, where did that get me? Still flat on my back with Finch inside and on top of me but not moving. How the hell could I resist him and beg him at the same time? That's when it hit me. Finch had been a wrestler since middle school. He must really dig the full-body contact and the struggle for physical dominance. If I mix pleading with struggling, I just might get Finch to fuck me. I wouldn't have to keep up the struggle the whole time, just stagger it a bit and see if that didn't do the trick. It was time to see if I had the key that unlocked Finch.

"Fuck me, Finch!" I said, not really begging, but very raw and needy.

I moved my feet flat on the floor and began pushing upward against Finch's weight. This pulled Finch's cock a few inches out of me. His expression changed from his grin to one of concentration the moment I nearly bucked him off of me. That was all it took to get him started. He grabbed my right leg and tried to force it back around his hip. He didn't think that my legs would be so strong, and to be honest, neither did I. However, my dancing did serve to make my legs tight and sturdy. We struggled and Finch began to push against me, making slow, furtive thrusts into me. It was a beginning for sure. I decided to get a little forceful myself.

"Yeah, not so tough, now; are you?" I said as I grunted against him. I moved up and thrust my tongue in his mouth, which got him further off balance. He began to respond with his tongue, which I sucked into my eager mouth. At the same time, I thrust up with my hips again, using my feet for leverage. Finch adjusted his weight and began trying to push me back down while continuing to kiss me. This was working.

"Ugh," I broke the kiss, "that's it, fuck me!" I breathed into his ear and bit his lobe. He used this opportunity to catch me off guard and finally pulled my right leg up over his hip. I lost my leverage, but had won the battle just the same. I continued to struggle as best I could with my left leg, but it was no use. I couldn't get the proper leverage I needed to work against Finch's dominant position. He gripped my right leg tightly as if he wouldn't let it go if the building caught fire. He was fucking me in ernest now. I tensed my right leg to test his hold. He responded by grabbing my left ankle. I wasn't prepared for his next move. He both pulled my left ankle up and rocked me further on my back. In this position, he extended my leg and placed it on his shoulder. Once he had my left leg there, he began the rocking motion again, which forced his dick to prod my prostate.

"Ohhhh," I moaned, "you're hitting the sweet spot."

Finch gave me that knowing grin and grunted as he rocked into me, "Uhhhnn, . . . told . . . you . . . I . . . would . . . Joey."

As the rocking fuck went on, Finch pulled my right leg up to join my left on his shoulders. In this position, I was forced up on my neck and shoulders and upper back, supporting our weight. Finch had managed to get himself up on his feet and was pounding deeply into me. Our breathing was ragged and I was nearly ready to cum all over myself when there was a loud jaring crack from off to my left. Finch and I were both startled as our heads jerked toward the noise. From my vantage point, all I could see was a pair of shiny black shoes and pale blue trousers. Finch didn't stop fucking me until the moment we heard "Freeze!"

Should I continue this or let it go?
Questions, comments, flames, blah, blah, blah.... Email: