Date: Thu, 25 Nov 2004 16:03:15 EST
From: Badgod69@aol.com
Subject: RICHIE THE RETARD, Part 3

I mentioned before that I fucked around with Richie the Retard for about 4
years, beginning when we were 12 and 19 respectively, and ending when I was
16 and Richie was 23.

All during those 4 fantastically fun years I had been curious about what it
would feel like to have Richie's big uncut dick up my untapped boy-ass.  I
wanted to know what it felt like to get fucked.  I knew I had a
good-looking butt - small, round, high and tight.  I had seen girls and the
occasional guy checking out my ass when I wore tight cut-offs during the
warmer months.  I liked it when people checked out my ass cuz it made me
feel grown-up and powerful.

I was totally used to being superior and in control with Richie but part of
me wanted to know what it felt like to be on the receiving end.  I had a
feeling I would like the physical sensation of having my guts full of hard
dick but the idea of having anything that huge inside me just seemed
impossibly scary.  So I didn't allow it to happen until I was 16.  And the
only reason it happened then was that I had just recently let my new
skinhead buddy from high school fuck me when we were stoned and supposedly
doing homework.  He had a huge dick, too.  And by then, my ass looked even
finer than it had when I was 12.  Slightly fuzzy and just asking to be
mauled.

Once I knew that my ass could accommodate horse-cock, I figured there
wasn't any reason to be apprehensive about letting Richie plow me with his
massive monster.

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself, so I'll back up and explain the
sequence of events that led to it.

During the first 2 years I used Richie for my sex fantasies I learned lots
of mean tricks and had tons of fun tormenting and torturing the retard.
All of our games involved my manipulating Richie into doing nasty things.
I loved humiliating and abusing him and then majorly messing with his
brain-damaged head afterwards, making him believe that I was his good
friend and that everything we did together was all in good fun.

Richie was the perfect foil for these games of mine.  With the body of a
man and the mind of a very stupid, immature 8 or 9 year-old kid, it was
simple to manipulate him into doing anything I wanted.  Besides that fact,
his chief selling point was that he had one of the biggest dicks I have
ever seen.  Physically, pretty much everything about Richie turned me on --
his tall, pale, skinny body; the stink of his sweaty armpits, always ripe
and skunky; his homely-cute, scruffy face with that light brown floppy hair
falling into his blank, pale blue eyes; the full, red lips, just right for
dicksucking.  But the fact that he was brain-damaged made me want to hurt
him in perverted and mean-spirited ways.  I didn't think of him as being
fully human.  I couldn't have cared less about his feelings or well-being.
All I wanted was his body and that awesome dick and fuckhole attached to
it.

Truthfully, I could easily have accidentally-on-purpose killed him during
our games and I wouldn't have lost a moment's sleep over it.  The only
thing that truly prevented me from snuffing him was the worry that I'd get
in trouble if anyone ever found out.  I could have offed him many, many
times, but I always held back out of that old, nagging worry.

Anyway, one summer afternoon when I was still 12 years old and Richie was
19, we were playing soldiers in my backyard.  I had been messing around
with Richie for about 4 months by then.  My parents had gone somewhere, I
forget exactly where, but I had the house to myself for much of the day.
Richie was by now allowed to hang out with me whenever I invited him over.
His parents had grown to trust me with him and they were glad, I think,
that Richie had finally made a friend in the neighborhood that was kind and
caring towards him.  I was a good actor even back then, and I could
convince most everyone that I was just a nice, harmless kid, the
quintessential all-American boy-next-door type.

Even though our games always ended up in abusive sexplay, the lead-up to
the sex was fun for me, too.  At 12, I was just beginning to put away my
toys and make-believe games but playtime with Richie still captured some of
that innocent fantasy from earlier years.  We would whoop it up and chase
each other around my backyard, hiding from each other, jumping out
unexpectedly with our fingers pointed at each other like rifles, making
forts and other make-believe games.  It was fun to play like a kid again,
and Richie loved every moment of it.  That's the sort of stuff we'd do
while my parents were around.  As soon as they'd take off somewhere I'd
start morphing the game into sexy stuff.

On this particular day we were pretending that we were having a major
battle between our respective armies, Richie leading the U.S. soldiers and
myself leading the Nazi troops.  I always made Richie play the good-guy
American while I would always play the Nazi.  Richie was obsessed with
Nazis, but the idea of them terrified him.  I had always thought the Nazis
were sexy and cool, like many young boys.  I could do whatever I wanted to
Richie and chalk it up to my pretending to be an SS man.  That way I didn't
have to explain my cruelties and sadistic sense of fun.  Richie just took
it, even when my antics would hurt or make him cry.  I made Richie cry a
lot.  I thought it was hilarious.

My favorite game to play with him when we'd finally get down to doing the
nasty stuff was Nazis-and-Jews.  I would make him say and do things that
were humiliating while I beat off or did nasty shit to him.  I had even
made armbands for us to wear out of old felt scraps I found in a box in our
garage, left over from some unfinished craft project years before.  I made
Richie wear a black one with a yellow Star of David on it, and I wore a
Nazi armband, red field with a white circle and a black swastika.  I had
run elastic around the armbands because there wasn't anything to pin them
to when we were naked.  Mostly they were for the Polaroids I took during
our games, but the sight of Richie, groveling at my feet or smeared with
shit or tied up and gagged while he wore that fucking cum-stained yellow
star cracked me up and gave me one helluva hard-on.  I had a wicked sense
of humor even then.

I remember that in 5th grade some kid had brought in some genuine Nazi
memorabilia for show-and-tell, stuff a relative had brought home from the
war, I guess.  One item captured my fancy and I wanted it bad.  It was a
small enameled medallion of a swastika, black and white and red.  After
school that day I waited up for the kid and offered to trade him the
medallion for some porno mags I kept in my backpack.  At first he said he
couldn't because his dad would get mad at him, but I threatened him with a
good beating while I showed him some of the nastier pages from one of the
well-thumbed magazines.  His eyes were popping out of his head and I could
tell he wanted the porno mags more than he cared about his dad yelling at
him, and certainly more than he wanted my fists smashing into his face.

I wore the medallion strung on a chain around my neck concealed under my
t-shirt. It looked fucking awesome and I wore it for years.  I loved that
thing, but several years later I gave it to my skinhead buddy for a
birthday present.  But now I loved letting it show plainly against my naked
chest whenever Richie and I played together.  I liked how it looked, and
the shameless "fuck you" attitude it provoked in me whenever I got to
display it openly gave me a sexual thrill.

Anyway, we were throwing dirt clods at each other and soon it escalated
into throwing small rocks.  I had a whole arsenal of improvised weapons and
accouterments on my side of the yard and I put them to brilliant use.  The
best was a simple contraption that let me hurl flaming gravel at Richie
from a distance of several yards.  I even got the sexual charge of setting
him on fire, something I didn't think I'd be able to pull off.

All I did was get a metal lid from a jar, fill it with pea gravel and douse
it with lighter fluid and paint thinner.  I'd set a match to it, let it
burst into flame, and then catapult the flaming gravel at him.  At first
all it did was leave little black burn marks on his clothes but that didn't
satisfy me because it wasn't hurting him.

Since the coast was clear, I told Richie that we were going to play for
real now and so we had to strip naked, like usual.  Then we resumed the
great battle.  Now, the burning gravel was stinging him and making him yelp
every time it touched him.  I was leaking so much precum there was a
perpetual string of it dripping from my dick.  I noticed that Richie's cock
was still soft.  That cracked me up.  I kept hurling those firey gravel
bombs at him but finally I realized they weren't going to do the trick as I
had imagined it in my cruel, clinical imagination.  There was gravel
everywhere it shouldn't be and I knew I'd have to clean it up before my
parents got home.  So, being a logical, pragmatic kid, I switched tactics.

I called a truce and told Richie I had a big special effect planned and he
was going to be the star of it.  He looked at me with a stupid, confused
expression and I just laughed at him and told him to get ready.  He stood
there and let me douse him with lighter fluid.  The only thing he said was
that it sure felt cold as I squeezed the contents of the entire bottle all
over his body (except for his head) making sure he was saturated with it.
He smelt so strongly of the stuff that it was making us gag.  Then I pulled
our garden hose closer to where we were, got the camera ready, struck a
match, and tossed it at Richie. He immediately burst into flames and I
snapped a Polaroid of him as he ran around shrieking and waving his hands
back and forth.  I grabbed the hose and quickly extinguished the flames.
Richie wasn't hurt at all because he'd only been on fire long enough to
burn off the lighter fluid.  The flames never really touched his flesh at
all.  But it did singe his pubes some.  I knew that photo would look
awesome and sure enough, when I showed it to him, it looked like the retard
was the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four comic books.  It took a bit of
convincing to get to him to think the whole thing had been cool, but as
always, I did it.  I jacked off to that photo I don't know how many times.

When I was 13 and Richie was 20, I played an even better prank on him but
it freaked him out so badly I didn't try it again.

My dad had built a tall wooden cabinet, about 7' high, to store garden
implements in.  It was pretty damn large, tall enough to stand up straight
in and a perfect hiding place.  One corner of it was filled with a shovel,
a hoe, various rakes, all the long-handled tools my family owned.  There
were also sacks of fertilizer and potting soil in there, stuff like that.
Daddy long-leg spiders loved that cabinet and there were quite a few of
them in there.

Things had continued pretty much as usual over the past year except that I
smoked now and was even more of a bully.  We had been playing our usual
American vs. Nazi soldier games and I, as usual, had captured Richie.  I
marched him around the back yard and when we came to the cabinet I told him
to stand still.  I tied Richie up with old ropes I found in the garage and
then opened the cabinet and told him to get inside because it was the jail.
When he saw how dark it was in there he started saying that he didn't want
to play this game anymore.  I had a feeling that he was going to resist
this game because I knew that he didn't like dark, enclosed spaces.  That
was why I'd chosen it.  So I figured I would have to gag him to shut him
up.  I stuffed one of my foul sweat socks in his mouth and slapped a piece
of tape over it so he couldn't spit it out.

Once I had him gagged I pushed him into the cabinet, hoisted his arms up
and tied his wrists to a hook I had earlier that morning screwed into the
top of the cabinet.  Then I tied his ankles to hooks I had secured to the
floor.  He looked great, arms hoisted up and tied together at the wrists,
stinking hairy armpits slick with potent terror sweat, tape over his mouth
with the stiff, dirty corner of my sock bouncing on his scruffy chin, hairy
legs tied tight so he couldn't really move much.  His pale blue eyes were
wide in fear and he was whimpering or muttering or something.  I told him
if he made any racket I would shoot him in the face and kill his family.
He looked awesome.  The perfect victim.  Then I gave him the Nazi salute
and shut the cabinet door and locked it with my own padlock.

It was early afternoon right then, probably like 1 o'clock.  I went inside
the house, made lunch and watched some TV for awhile.  The phone rang and
it was my buddy Larry who lived a few blocks away and asked me what I was
doing.  I told him nothing much and he invited me over to hang out for a
while and I went.  Larry was a really cute Irish kid that I thought was
good-looking and sort of had a crush on.  He and I had jerked off together
a couple of times and I had taught him about hot-dogging, which he loved.

But I had to move carefully with Larry because I could tell that doing
stuff with guys freaked him out more than it did the other 3 boys in our
gang that we messed around with on increasingly rare occasions.  We didn't
do anything except listen to music and talk about girls and then go to the
local mall for a couple of hours that day.  I was watching the clock
because I knew my parents would be getting back around 5 p.m. and I wanted
to leave time to have fun with whatever I was going to find when I opened
that cabinet door.

By the time I left Larry's house it was almost 4 o'clock.  Richie had been
in the cabinet for almost 3 hours.  I sprang a huge boner whenever I
thought about him while I had been hanging out with Larry.  Now, as I ran
barefoot the few blocks back to my house, I could feel my hard cock
brushing against my thigh and by the time I got home there was a definite
wet spot on the front of my shorts and a thin, shiny string of precum
beading in the hair on my thigh.

I raced through the gate leading into my backyard and stopped still when I
was a few yards away from the cabinet.  Everything looked OK and I couldn't
hear any noise at all coming from the big box.  I pulled the padlock key
out of my pocket, slipped it into the keyhole, got it opened and stepped
back as I prepared to open the cabinet doors, Polaroid camera poised to
capture that first, priceless shot.

I flung the doors open and when I saw Richie I thought he was passed out at
first.  His head hung down and there was piss all over the floor of the
cabinet.  He had pissed himself.  I started chuckling, snapping one photo
after another, wondering if he had smothered inside the cabinet.  I noticed
it sure was hot in there.  Maybe he was dead.  If so, I had to think fast.

But Richie raised his head and looked at me with the most woebegone eyes I
had ever seen.  Tears had streaked his face and he had drooled so much from
the sock stuffed in his mouth that there was saliva dripping from his chin.
I flicked his soft dick and squeezed his big, heavy nuts a bunch of times,
laughing at him, telling him he was supposed to be dead but he might as
well come out now.

I unhitched his wrists from the hook and then removed the ropes from his
ankles.  I had to help him step out of the cabinet and when I got him out
he collapsed on the flagstones.  As I worked on getting the rest of the
ropes off him I kept telling him not to be a pussy and not to make a
racket.  Richie was whimpering the whole time.

I finally ripped the tape off his mouth and he spit my rank sock out onto
the ground.  I was getting pissed off at him because I didn't want to waste
the rest of our time together by having to calm him down and talking him
into the climax of the game.

"Hey, retard, stop fucking whining!  It's just a fucking game, you
asshole," I said to him, my teeth clenched and my voice tight and
impatient.

Richie wailed and said the spiders had scared him so bad he peed himself
and now he wanted to go home.  I just laughed at him and told him he was a
baby and that he wasn't going anywhere.  He screwed up his face and I could
tell he was going to start bawling again.  I hauled him up to his feet and
told him to come inside and I'd make him a sandwich.  That seemed to quiet
him down some, and already my mind was racing with mean, nasty thoughts
about what I would do next.

When we got inside I told him to sit on the kitchen table and lean back on
the table top.  Richie looked like a little kid at the doctor's office,
nervously waiting for the doc to examine him.  I got a jar of peanut butter
down from the shelf and stuck my finger in the jar and scooped up a big
glob of the stuff.  I told him to suck it off my finger and while he did it
I stuck a finger on my other hand back into the jar and scooped out another
glob.  While Richie sucked on my finger I wiped the peanut butter on my
other finger all over his dick and worked it down to his asshole.  I pushed
inside him and he squealed a bit but he was used to me invading his asshole
with all sorts of objects by now, so he didn't put up any fight at all.

Richie giggled a bit as I smeared the stuff all over his crotch and
shithole.  I told him to leave it there and not to touch himself while I
made him a sandwich.  When I had it made and Richie was happily munching
away I bent down and started mouthing his huge dick, tasting the creamy
richness of the peanut butter warmed by his body heat and mingled with his
sweat and funky crotch tastes.  Every once in a while Richie would stroke
my head and squeeze my shoulder so I knew it must have felt good to him.
He devoured the sandwich fast and I asked him if he wanted another one.  He
nodded and grinned at me like an idiot.

By the time I made him another sandwich Richie's dick was stiff and
throbbing.  So was mine.  While Richie tore into his second sandwich I got
down between his legs, spread them, and licked the peanut butter from
around his asshole and even slipped my tongue inside it to see if I could
taste the stuff inside him.  I could, and it made me fucking laugh my ass
off while my brain seethed with ever nastier imaginings.

Then I told him, "Geez, look at how dirty my feet are!"

I had been barefoot most of the day and it had been 2 days since I'd last
showered.  My soles were black with street grime and when he was through
with his sandwich I made Richie switch places with me on the table and then
get down on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor.  I ran my dirty feet
all over his head and then shoved them in his face.

"Smell how nasty my dirty feet stink, Veg.  Lick 'em, faggot, get 'em nice
and clean!"  He just continued that foolish giggle and lapped away at my
stinky feet.  His spit and breath felt awesome, cool and warm all at the
same time.

I needed to take a piss and I asked him if he was thirsty.  He nodded and I
told him I was gonna give him a nice, long drink of my hot piss.  He
giggled and said, "Eww."  I just smiled at him and grabbed his hand and led
him into the bathroom.  I told him to lie down in the tub and when he did
he started shivering and said it felt cold on his naked skin.

I spit on him and told him my piss would feel good then, it'd warm him up.
I grunted and sent a hot yellow shower of urine cascading over him.  I
barked at him to open his mouth but he wouldn't at first.

I went into Nazi/Jew-game mode and barked at him to open his dirty Jew
mouth and drink my hot Nazi piss.  Whenever I said stuff like that to him
he got a weird gleam in his eyes and treated me like a real Nazi, like he
was in awe and terror of me.  That was one of the major reasons why I liked
this game so much.

He opened his mouth and squeezed his eyes tight shut while I aimed my piss
stream square at his face, making sure to try to get some into his eyes
because I knew it would sting like hell.  He kept letting his mouth fill up
and then spill out down his chest.

"I said drink it, you dirty fucking jew pig!  Say 'I want to drink your hot
Nazi piss!'"

"I want to drink your hot Nazi piss," he repeated as I filled his mouth and
told him to swallow it.

"Say, 'I love Hitler', you fucking retarded piece of shit!"

Richie giggled out of terror and said, "I love Hitler."

The fact that I was making him say things I knew were socially forbidden,
the malicious audacity of it all, just made me all the hornier.

I hauled him out of the tub and told him to get his ass out into the garage
and to get into the back of the van parked inside.

I kept shoving him and trying to push my finger up his ass as we walked
through the house.  Richie was half-giggling, half-whimpering.

When we got into the van I pushed him down onto his back and squatted over
his face.  I barked at him to sniff my Nazi shithole and then lick it out
good or I would kill his mother and father and then what would happen to
him?  Richie was scared and confused so I stepped it up a notch.  I grabbed
his hair in my hand and tugged his head up so I could smack him hard a few
times before I spit in his face.

"I'll fucking kill you.  Say, "Please, Mein Commandant, can I lick your
Nazi asshole, Sir?"

Richie started crying from the sting of the face smacks, so I smiled down
at him and quietly told him I'd strangle him if he didn't say it.  The fact
that I was smiling and speaking softly to him made him smile back at me and
he nodded and said, "OK, Dan," and stuck his fat pink tongue out as proof
that he was ready to lick my asshole.

I spit in his face again and, still speaking softly, told him he had to say
what I'd told him.

After repeating it three more times so he could remember it, he finally
said, "Please, Mein Commandant, can I lick your Nazi asshole, Sir?"

"Permission granted, Pvt. Retard Jew.  Heil Hitler."  I was mixing my games
up but I didn't give a damn.  My mind was reeling anyway.

I sat on his face and made him smell my butt a while before I told him to
stick his tongue up my ass.

When he did, it felt so good I had to fight the physical urge to shoot my
load right then and there.  I reached down his body and started jacking him
off with one hand while I did myself with the other.  My ass was bouncing
up and down on his face, feeling his tongue fuck my sweaty shithole.

I was torn between wanting to rape his ass like usual or sliding his
foreskin over the head of my dick and jacking us off together 'til we
spewed.  I went for the latter.

I told Richie to get up on his knees as I got up onto mine facing him.  We
were so close together all I had to do was lean my face forward and I'd
have my nose buried in his pit.  I grabbed his hard horse cock in my hand
and pulled him the few inches towards me so our dick heads would be
touching.  When I felt the soft, wet, heat of his fat mushroom cockhead
touch mine I shivered and gasped with 13 year-old boy sexlust.

I slid his foreskin over both our heads and started twiddling with it,
slipping it back and forth slowly but firmly.  I was getting close fast
from all the messing around we had already been doing, and I could tell
that Richie was getting close, too.

I could feel and hear our combined precum slicking our heads together with
a warm, wet, squishing sound and that pushed me over the edge.  I reached
up and pulled his face down to mine and shoved my tongue into his slack,
panting mouth.  Richie instinctively kissed me back, forcing his muscular
tongue back against mine, whimpering and grunting into my mouth.  I could
smell our hot, panting breaths as we huffed into each other's lungs.
Richie's mouth and breath tasted and smelled like ass and peanut butter
combined.  It reminded me of an over-sexed, filthy-minded little boy,
self-debased and hungry for degrading animal sex.

All of a sudden Richie yelled into my mouth and I felt a hot, forceful
blast of something hot and thick and wet slam against my dickhead and when
I felt it I unleashed a molten jet right back.  Richie's cum was filling
and flooding his foreskin squeezed tight over our dickheads and when I
relaxed the tension I held it in place with I could feel his cum shooting
against my balls and stomach and drenching my pubes.

I let go of him and he slumped back onto his haunches, still pumping out a
few jets of his nut, eyes closed, a pained expression on his face, bangs
glued to his pimply forehead.  I stayed up on my knees, eyeing his entire
body and feeling selfish pride that I commanded such a fucking fantastic
sex toy.

When we were done emptying our nuts I pushed his head down onto my crotch
and told him to lick his load up but not to swallow it.  When he was
through, I bent down and lapped mine up from his pubes and stomach.  I came
back up and pulled him into me again, giving him another good, long french
kiss.  We swirled our cum around in each other's mouths and we were both
humming and sighing from the overheated condition of our bodies and the
thrill of consuming each other's masculinity.  I doubt that's how Richie
would have explained it, but I know he got a similar charge, nonetheless.

I couldn't believe how wildly nasty and horny I was still feeling.  Messing
around with Richie the Retard was like doing dirty stuff with a little kid
with a man's huge dick and balls, swollen with hot, smelly cum.  It was
that combination and contradiction that excited me beyond anything I had
ever felt before.  To my mind, it was no wonder that I had an occasional
urge to kill him. He was a monstrosity.  But one I couldn't get enough of.

As the years passed and I grew up, I spent less time with Richie.  By the
time I was 15 I only saw him maybe twice a month, but those times were even
more brutal and usually lasted the whole day.  I was more interested in
girls and hanging out with my buddies than I was in fucking around with
Richie.  My urges towards cruelty and violence were taking different forms
now, much of it in engaging in petty crimes like theft and vandalism or
getting off on the sexual thrill of brawling.  I was good at not getting
caught for the most part, but a couple of times I did get busted.  The
counselors at my school, along with my parents, were concerned and wanted
to put me in therapy, so I went.  I thought it was hilarious.

The therapy didn't last long, only 3 sessions.  It was supposed to be
ongoing, but my therapist was an old Jewish guy.  I was careful about what
I'd tell him.  I forget exactly what he said to me that pissed me off
during our last session together, but in retaliation I told him about the
Nazis-and-Jews sex games that I played with "a friend."  The expression on
the therapist's face was fucking priceless, a look of revulsion and horror
like I'd only seen on people's faces in movies before.  I remember that I
laughed right in his face when I was done giving him the details.  After
that, he coldly told me that he couldn't continue our sessions anymore and
that I needed to find a new therapist.  I threatened to hurt him bad if he
told my parents about what I'd told him, and that besides, I had made it
all up.  He was wise to me though, and told me that he knew I hadn't made
it up and that I needed help.  I told him to get fucked and again warned
him that if he told my parents anything I would say that he had molested me
in his office.  He never said a word to anyone about anything I'd told him.

I was so sick or having adults tell me that I needed help.  I knew that
there wasn't anything bothering me at home or at school, there wasn't
anything wrong with my head, I didn't have any thought disorders - I simply
liked violence and it just felt good to be cruel.  To my mind, I was part
of a select group of strong-willed, rational, unsentimental people, willing
to take what they wanted, actions that weak-willed, conventional people
were not strong enough to take.  My personal motto was a quote by Benito
Mussolini I had read in some book or other I had checked out of the
library: "We must learn to hate more and rejoice in being hated."  That
said it all to me.  That was my strength and I reveled in it.  Fuck the
weaklings.  I figured they were there to be used and managed.

Things quieted down for about 4 months and I didn't get in any more
trouble.  It's not that I stopped acting on my impulses, I just didn't get
caught.  Towards the end of those 4 months I met my best buddy in high
school, a new kid from the East Coast, a skinhead nicknamed Choke.  I had
just recently turned 16.

>From that point onwards he and I were virtually inseparable.  After he had
fucked me for my first time, I knew that I wanted Richie to finally do it
to me, too.  So I started planning the how and when of it.

I decided to invite Richie to spend the night one week-end.  I knew I was
going to have to come up with some well-reasoned plan that would derail any
suspicions my parents might have.  I figured they'd probably wonder why
their 16 year-old son wanted a brain-damaged 23 year-old man to spend the
night, much less share the same bed.  As it turned out, my parents didn't
even ask any questions, just looked at me for a few seconds and then said,
"Sure."  I suppose they had gotten accustomed to my 'friendship' with
Richie and just figured we got along well and I was just being nice.  They
also knew how stunted Richie was emotionally.  Most people in the
neighborhood thought of Richie as a child and treated him like he was a kid
instead of a fully-grown man.  My parents were no exception.

Richie's parents were fine with the idea.  They believed that I was the
best thing that had happened to Richie since they'd moved into the house
across the street 4 years previously.  And of course Richie thought the
idea was better than Christmas.  He told me he couldn't wait for Saturday
and I know he drove his parents crazy during the week, asking them daily if
it was the week-end yet.

All I cared about was getting Richie into my bed for some under-the-covers
fun.  I knew it wouldn't be hard to get him to do it; he had asked me a few
times over the years if he could stick his wiener up my butt after I'd been
stuffing his ass with my hard dick countless times.  I always told him he
couldn't because the General hadn't specified it in his instructions to us,
and that always shut him up.  So I knew that he was willing and curious and
would probably get annoyingly excited when I told him he could, at long
last, fuck me up the ass.

He showed up at my house early that Saturday evening, carrying a small
Superman duffel bag with a change of clothes and his toothbrush.  I taught
him how to play Go Fish but it was just to kill time.  Then I let him watch
television with me and my parents for the rest of the evening until
bedtime.  Richie thought it was incredibly fun and exciting.  I have to say
my parents were really good with him.  My mom treated him better than his
own mom I bet, serving him snacks and asking him how his day had gone, even
ruffling his messy hair at one point when she walked past him.  My dad was
gentle and kind with him, too.  The irony of the situation was clear to me
even then at 16.  I was laughing behind my hand the whole time.

Around 10:30 I told my parents that I was ready to go to bed and watch my
own TV before Richie and I went to sleep.  Richie followed me like a dog
into my bedroom and changed into his pajamas as I stripped out of my jeans
and t-shirt and pulled on a pair of old sweatpants.  I told Richie I was
going to brush my teeth and take a piss and he said he wanted to do that,
too.  So I rolled my eyes and let him follow me into the bathroom.

When we were through and back behind the closed door of my bedroom I turned
the TV on and climbed into bed.  Richie was giggling and his excitement
over experiencing his first sleep-over was contagious.  But mine had a
different motive.  At first I wouldn't allow him onto my bed and told him
he had to sleep on the floor.  His face dropped like a ton of bricks and
then screwed up into that expression that made him look like a whipped dog.
He said, "OK, Dan," and sat on the floor while I kicked back against the
headboard and crossed my arms behind my head.  I let him stay there for
about 15 minutes, saying nothing, just watching the TV, and then I pulled
off my sweats and stinky socks and tossed them over the side of the bed
onto Richie.  A few seconds later I heard him start to giggle.  That got me
going and I started laughing my ass off, too.  It was like he knew what was
coming and that this was all part of it.  I guess he did, from all the
years I had been abusing and fucking around with him.  He liked it in some
warped way now, and he was waiting for it to begin.

I told him he could get in bed with me if he wanted.  He peered over the
edge of the mattress and squinted at me in the dim, blue light of the
television.  He looked helluv sexy to me, I remember, because he looked so
stupid and pliable and innocent.  Like a big over-grown boy.  His messy
hair needed washing and his bangs were glued to his forehead because of the
ratty, old baseball cap he perpetually wore.  His heavy, dark brows were
furrowed from his squinting at me and he was wrinkling up his nose like he
couldn't see very well.  I think he probably needed glasses, but it made
him look cute when he squinched up his nose.  Pimples dotted his forehead
and scruffy cheeks and chin, but it only added to his youthfulness.  But it
was his mouth that was really getting me hard.  Richie had full, red lips
and healthy, white teeth and his mouth was usually part way open.  Rather
than making him look stupid, at that moment it looked sexy, sort of
lascivious.

Anyway, the sight of his goofy face made my dick twitch.  I patted the bed
and he stood up, towering over me, smiling like a clown, then flopped down
next to me.  I was rubbing my dick and worked up a perfect, rock-hard boner
in less than 30 seconds.  Richie giggled that retard laugh of his and just
reached over and wrapped his hand around my cock and stroked me like I had
told him I liked it, swirling his fist around the head on the upstroke
before traveling back down the shaft.  Richie knew how to jack me off just
right.  I didn't even have to tell him anymore.  He knew the routine and
had initiated fooling around several times over the past year.  I just lay
there, arms still crossed behind my head, watching TV.  Without even
looking at him, I told him to take his PJs top off but to leave the bottoms
on, and then to get under the covers.  He had a bit of trouble with the
buttons but soon he was bare-chested.

Finally, half naked and smelling strongly of stale sweat, Richie climbed
into my bed at the same time as I got under the covers with him.  I snapped
the remote and the TV blinked off.  The only light was now extinguished and
it took a few minutes for our eyes to adjust to the darkness.  A faint
ribbon of outdoor lamplight shone through the space between my window and
the window shade, giving just enough light to distinguish his face.  I knew
I'd have enough light to see the rest of him in a few minutes.  But first I
had my own work ahead of me.

I yawned and stretched and Richie did the same.  I could smell the
powerful, masculine stink of our sweat-soaked hairy pits as we stretched.
I didn't say a word and I could sense Richie's confusion as to why I wasn't
saying or doing anything to him.  I was actually waiting to hear my
parents' bedroom door close before I launched into the night's revelries.
After about 15 minutes I could hear Richie's breathing slow and deepen and
I knew he had fallen asleep.  About the same time I heard my parents close
their bedroom door and again I waited for another 10 or 15 minutes before I
made a move.

I wasn't even touching myself but my dick was rock hard and throbbing from
the prospect of feeling my guts fill up with Richie's massive prick.  I
could barely wait to feel his narrow hips slam against my ass as he plunged
in and out of my tight hole, balls bouncing against mine, sweaty limbs
wrapped around me.  I wondered if he'd naturally know what to do or if I'd
have to explain it to him.  I wondered if he'd be any good.

I shoved him and told him to roll over onto his side.  He murmured
something I couldn't make out as he rolled over with his back towards me.
I let him settle before I scooted closer to him, also turning onto my side.
I was going to fuck the shit out of him before I let him rape my ass.  I
had purposely not jacked off over the past 2 days and I was so horny that
I'd had a hard time not grabbing him earlier when we'd been in the bathroom
brushing our teeth.  Now I was ready to cram his ass full of my hard 16
year-old cock.  My dick was now just about full-grown, a beautiful 7 3/4
inches of powerful, relentless meat with a sack of balls dusted with silky,
dark brown hair.

I hovered just an inch or so away from his body.  I could feel his heat
radiate against my naked skin and it felt incredible.  The pungent stink of
skunk and onions coming from his pits amped me up like the odor of a
lover's favorite perfume.  I scooted closer and nuzzled my nose into the
warm, moist crevice between Richie's armpit and his side.  Richie sighed
and made more unintelligible sounds as I flicked my tongue into his pit and
felt the coarse hairs press against my lips and chin.  As I sniffed and
licked the sharp, acrid tang, my hands were busy teasing Richie's body to
full attention.

One hand reached around and fiddled with his nipples while the other
stroked his PJs-covered thigh.  I moved my hand down from his nipples,
stroking the thick glory trail on his stomach before I shoved it under the
elastic waistbands of his PJs and tighty whities and ran my fingers through
his matted pubes.  His fat, uncut dick was pulsing with life when I wrapped
my fist around it and slowly jacked it with a firm hand.

Richie was wide awake by now and he giggled softly as he tried to turn
towards me.  I hissed at him to stay still and not to make any noise.
Again I scooted my body closer to his, and this time my stiff dick made
contact with the warm flannel of his PJs.  I pressed against his ass and
slowly bucked against it, feeling precum leave a warm, wet streak on the
fabric.  I let go of his cock and started shoving his clothes down his
thighs, exposing his hairy ass to my body.  I heard his horse cock slap
thickly against his belly and my dick spasmed with the lust for body
contact.  When I slid my dick between his ass cheeks Richie whimpered
softly and asked me if I was going to fuck him.  I laughed at how
well-trained Richie was.  I had even succeeded in getting Richie to talk
dirty when we were playing together.  He said all sorts of swear words now,
and it gave me a hugely perverted thrill to hear him let loose with a
stream of filthy talk in that slow, Beavis-and-Butthead voice.

I didn't tell him what I had planned, I just shushed him and savored the
silence between us, the stillness unbroken except for the rustling of the
blankets and the occasional grunting moans of our labored breathing.

I hot-dogged his butt a little while longer, varying the speed and
pressure, the way I knew Richie liked it.  The hair that lined his crack
was thick enough to form little greasy-looking whorls and it felt like
sliding over an animal.  I surprised myself by how gentle and normal I was
treating him.  It wasn't because I felt any less malicious towards him; I
just wasn't willing to waste time on him.  I was letting the pleasure I was
getting wash over me, completely selfish and uncaring about anything except
myself.

I pulled back a bit and worked 2 fingers up his ass.  He felt nearly
feverish inside, so warm and wet and slick to my touch.  Richie was
squirming and writhing around a bit as I finger-fucked him hard and brutal.
I clamped my other hand over his mouth because I was afraid he would cry
out like usual from the force of the sensations I was sending crashing
through his stinking body.  When I pulled my fingers out of his ass they
made a soft plopping sound and I grinned to myself like a devil.  I loved
that sound.  As I scooted back into him, getting ready to shove my cock up
his ass, I sniffed my fingers fresh from his shithole.  They smelled
awesome, earthy and rancid, sweet and poisonous.  The smell of Richie's ass
had always been a major turn-on for me and it was no different now.  In
fact it seemed like I had never smelled anything so fucking sexy before.

I spit in my hand and lubed my aching dick.  I pressed it against his hairy
asshole and told him to push out so I could slide in easier.  As he opened
to me I brought my slimy fingers up to his face and told him to smell how
good his asshole stank.  He breathed in deeply and then giggled again as I
wiped my fingers on his pillow.  His laugh turned abruptly to a sharp gasp
as I stuck my cock up his ass and shoved hard.  As soon as I was in to the
hilt, my pubes scratching his butt cheeks, I bucked back and then slammed
fast and hard back into him.  Richie let out a high-pitched whine, full of
pain and pleasure as I fucked him so hard and fast that my bed started
squeaking.  I slowed down just enough to stop the springs from creaking and
then settled into a rhythm of pure animal fuck lust.  I was all over him
now.  I bit the back of his neck so hard I left a bruise on it as I hooked
my hairy, muscular leg over his furry thigh, pajamas bunched up around his
calves.  I licked his back and shoulders; I clenched his hair in my teeth
and gave a sharp tug, a few hairs ripping out of his scalp and wedging
between my teeth; I pinched his nipples so hard he whimpered and convulsed.
He was mine, my slave, my property, and I could have torn him apart with my
bare hands.

His hair smelled slightly dank and sour, the way sweaty, unwashed boys
smell after playing hard in the sun all day long.  The stink of good,
strong, butt-fucking filled my nostrils like a thick, warm fog.  I breathed
in all these aromas, losing myself in the total abandon of our grunting,
grinding sex act.  I could feel my balls expand and roil with the massive
load of jizz I had been storing up for this moment.  When I knew I was
going to blow soon, I half-climbed on top of him, clutching his body tight
against me as I fucked into the home-stretch.

With a few, final thrusts I roared into his dirty hair and felt the first
searing wave of hot cum burst out of my cock and straight into his guts.
Blast after blast of my liquid identity erupted into him and the sound of
his juicy, squishing, cum-filled ass soothed the pounding in my ears.
Drenched in cooling sweat, my body went limp as I pumped out the final
bursts deep in his bowels.  I withdrew and turned away from him, trying to
disengage myself from the mess of tangled blankets.  It felt like the bed
was on fire.

I heard Richie groan and then let out a deep sigh.  Laughing with how good
and drained I felt, I turned my face towards him and saw him roll onto his
back and look at me.  I think he was confused by my not being cruel to him
while I had fucked him.

The feel of my dick, fresh from Richie's ass, was amazing.  Slippery and
sticky with ass juice and cum, as soon as I touched myself I started
getting hard again.  I laughed and sat up as I got ready to straddle his
chest.  He didn't say anything as I clambered over him, leaning forward so
that my half-hard, dirty cock was resting on the crown of Richie's head.  I
grabbed his hair on either side of my dick and used it to wipe the slime
off.

When I was through cleaning most of the stink off my dick, I slid down some
so I could wipe what remained all over his face.  I smiled evilly at him
and told him I had a surprise as I lay back down beside him.  Unconsciously
licking his lips where I had just wiped my cock, he propped himself up on
his elbow and looked at me expectantly.

"I got a call from the General today.  He said you need to fuck me."

Richie just stared at me, not fully comprehending what I had just said.

"You get to fuck my ass, retard," I whispered.

"I do?"  He was totally flummoxed by this news.

"Yeah, you do.  You want to, don't you?"

"OK, Dan," was all he said.  I got the feeling that the idea was almost
scary to him.

"Then get those fucking clothes off and stick it in me, Veg!"  I was hoping
that he wasn't going to freeze or start crying or something.  I wanted him
to take charge for a change.

"OK," he whispered conspiratorially.  But I could hear the fear in his
voice.

Richie kicked his PJ bottoms off and then just lay there staring at me with
a smile on his empty face.  I leaned over him and took his already hard
dick in my fist, sucking on his ample foreskin like a tit and flicking his
piss slit with the tip of my tongue.  I could smell strong ball-sweat
wafting up from between his hairy legs and I sucked on that horse cock like
it was a lollipop.  I nosed down under his balls and forced his legs wide
open.  The singular, unmistakable aroma of freshly fucked asshole mingled
with cum filled my head.  The impulse to slaughter him hit me like a ton of
bricks once again.  I could barely contain myself.

I decided I would just get into position and see what happened, without any
commands or instructions from me.  Maybe fucking was instinctual and he'd
know what to do.  I had been thinking about how I wanted him to do it and
for some reason the idea of doing it to me the way I had just done it to
him seemed the most exciting.  I turned my back to him and pushed my ass
towards him, hoping he'd pick up on the visual cue.  He did.

I heard Richie breathing heavily as he scooted close to me.  I could feel
the heat of his horse prick beating against my ass and upper thighs.

"You know how to do this?"

"OK, Dan."

"OK, you know how, or OK, you don't know how?"  I was starting to get
irritated and I wanted to hurt him.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked me quietly.

I sighed in frustration.  "Fuck me, you stupid fucking freak!"

"OK, Dan."

I lay there, waiting for something to happen.  Nothing.

"What are you waiting for, Veg?"  I was getting more and more pissed off.

He didn't say anything for a second but I felt him press his hard, wet cock
between my butt cheeks.  I let out a quiet "ahhhhhh..."

He didn't move at all but it felt awesome anyway, just having that fat
fucking dick-log wedged in my crack.

"C'mon, retard!"  I was impatient and filled with furious anticipation.

After a pause he told me he was afraid it might hurt me, like it had hurt
him the first time I fucked him.  I laughed scornfully at him and told him
I had been fucked lots of times and not to worry about it.  This was a lie,
of course, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him know he was more
experienced at something than I was.

Then he started in on me.  I couldn't believe what he was doing.  It made
me doubt my own senses for a moment, wondering if I had misjudged him.

Richie's hot breath blew up and down my spine, sending chills through my
body.  I shivered and he giggled.  I gasped out loud when he started
kissing and licking my neck and head and shoulders.  He leaned over me,
licking me all over my face.  It felt so fucking sleazy and nasty.  I could
smell the mess on his face and my tongue lashed out trying to make contact
with his.  All of a sudden Richie was forcing his fat tongue deep into my
throat, spit dripping out of his mouth and dribbling down our chins.

I was panting with lust by now, rasping out inarticulate noises.  I could
feel the enormous head of his cock pushing against my asshole and I had to
remind myself to relax and push out so he could get it inside me without
ripping me in half.

He reached around me and wrapped his arm around my chest, hugging me to him
so tight that I thought he was going to break my ribs.  I pushed my whole
body backwards into his, and his cockhead disappeared into my tight, sweaty
hole.  It felt like I had been shocked with a million volts of electricity.
I actually saw stars when I squeezed my eyes tight shut.  It hurt like a
motherfucker.  I wasn't sure I could take it.

I was just about to tell him to pull out when he surged his hips forward
and his shaft roared smoothly up my guts.  I nearly screamed and held my
breath so long that I almost passed out.  I felt like I was being killed.
Richie was oblivious to me.  He was breathing hard and grunting and hissing
out his breath like he was taking a rough shit.  It sounded hot.  He tried
repositioning me onto my stomach but I didn't want to be laid out flat.  I
resisted but he surprised me by forcing me to roll over anyway.  He laid
his whole weight on top of me and pounded my ass so hard the bed started
thumping.  I was trying to get him to roll off me and be quieter but he
didn't even hear me, I don't think.  Finally I got his attention by
slapping his ass from behind me.  He stopped fucking and I told him to get
the hell off me and lay on his back.  He did it and I sat on him, guiding
his huge cock slowly up my ass.  When I had it all in I started bouncing up
and down on his prick, now in control of the force and speed of the action.
It felt incredible.

But Richie wasn't liking it.  I was staring at his face and he frowned and
then whined a bit and finally looked like he was going to cry over the
frustration his body was experiencing in not being in control of the
thrusting.  It was like the primitive, animal part of his brain took over
during sex and what it needed to get off was the prime objective.  He
actually lifted me up and got me off him and then got me on my hands and
knees.

He grunted and mumbled something deep in his throat as he pushed his dick
into me and started banging away.  The bed started squeaking again and I
had to stop him and tell him we had to get on the floor.  Richie was so
lost in the sensations he didn't understand what I meant so I got up and
pulled him off the bed onto the floor.  When I'd moved and his cock slipped
out of my hole he started grunting in fast, short bursts, like a mindless,
angry hog.

As soon as we hit the floor I got back into doggy position and Richie
slammed back into me.  He draped his body over mine and I felt like an
animal getting fucked.  The stink of his sweat was driving me crazy and I
know mine only added to the insanity of the moment.  I could smell hot ass
stinking up the room.  I wanted more smells bad so I hissed at him to reach
around and grab his underpants off the bed.  When he handed them to me I
ran them over my face, savoring the heady smell of his shithole.  There
must have been skids in his tighty whities because I could smell assfunk
strongly in the back of his ratty briefs.  I bit down on them as Richie
increased his pace.  He was mumbling and talking to himself while he
fucked, and I remember thinking that was hot.  I couldn't tell what he was
saying, but whatever it was it seemed to get him more and more excited.  I
spotted his foul socks lying close by so I reached out and grabbed them to
me.  They were stiff with sweat and stank to high heaven, just the thing I
needed to get me off even better.

Richie was snorting and grunting like a fucking animal, still muttering to
himself.  All of a sudden he stopped thrusting and pulled his dick out
fast.  I gasped from the shock and he pulled me up by my shoulder.  When we
were both standing he roughly spun me around to face him and wrapping his
arms around my sides he lifted me up and impaled me on his huge, stiff
meat-pole.  I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my
head in his shoulder.  This was crazy.

He held my legs up in his arms and I wrapped them around his waist as he
continued fucking into my aching asshole.  Needing more leverage, he walked
us over to the wall so he could press me against it and pound me even
harder.  I felt like I was going to explode or shit or scream or all three
at once.

Richie started panting hard and his grunts were getting so loud I was
afraid my parents would hear him.  I clapped my hand over his mouth and he
tried to turn his head away from it, so I slapped him hard across the face
and told him to shut up as I replaced my hand.  It seemed to piss him off
and he threw his whole body into fucking me with a fury that I wouldn't
have expected from him.  Truthfully, I hadn't expected him to be anywhere
near this good at screwing.

The best part was that he was doing it the way I liked it - rough,
unromantic, fully masculine, more animal than human.  His wildness made me
wilder, too, and I hocked a huge wad of spit right between his eyes.  It
didn't faze him in the least.  He just shook his head once, trying to fling
off the saliva dripping down his face.  I clapped my hand back over his
mouth and told him he was making the General proud.  I don't know why I
even bothered talking to him because he clearly wasn't capable of hearing
anything I was saying.

He held me so tight to his stinking body that I was able to rub my cock
against his hairy stomach as he plowed my ass.  I was getting close to
shooting another hot load and the image of all that cum gluing our bodies
together while he dumped his load deep in my guts made me crazy.

I could feel the sweat pouring off him and his body started feeling
slippery.  Suddenly he started whimpering fast and loud under my hand and I
knew he was about to cum.  The sound pushed me over the edge and I could
feel my load get ready to erupt.  I took my hand away from his mouth and
kissed him hard as we both got ready to spew.  Kissing probably isn't quite
the right word, but I don't know what else to call it.  It was more like
eating, all teeth and tongues and biting and spit.  My lips felt like they
were bruised and swollen and I know I chomped down hard several times on
his lips and cheeks and chin.  I was tearing at his hair and digging and
dragging my fingernails all over his head and back and shoulders.

The hardest thing was keeping quiet, because both of us instinctively
wanted to howl and bray with the ferocity of being caught up in such brutal
lust.

I started panting words into his mouth, frenzied beyond belief.

"C'mon, motherfucker, shoot your fucking load up my ass!  Retarded piece of
shit, I'm gonna kill you, oh my god, fuck the shit out of me, you
cocksuckin' faggot, I'm gonna bash your fucking retarded brains in..."

Stuff like that.

Richie kept whimpering louder and louder, eyes rolled back in his face, his
head thrashing backwards one moment, then crashing forward into my face.

I couldn't hold back any longer and I bit my lip hard as my dick swelled
and belched out thick ropes of cum against his stomach.  I must have shot
fucking hard because I could feel sticky wetness all over his nipples and
chest, too.

He threw his whole weight against me and the wall and for a second I
thought he was going to crush me to death.  He bucked into my ass another
half-dozen times or so and then he started shuddering as he screamed into
my mouth and pounded out his load.  I could feel hotness blasting inside me
and he kept thrusting over and over, emptying his balls of all that juice.
My ass felt like it did when I was a little kid and my mom had to give me
an enema.  Each thrust sounded more and more wet and I could feel cum
squirting out the edges of my shithole and dripping onto Richie's thighs.

At last the incredible torture was over and he relaxed as he leaned his
dripping head against the wall.  He banged his forehead into it a few times
as the final cum bursts went shooting inside me.  We stayed like that for a
few moments, panting and trying to catch our breath, trembling and
shivering from the over-stimulation.

I scrambled out of his hold and got to my feet, then told him to lie down
on the bed.  Richie stumbled like he was drunk the few paces to the bed and
flopped down on his back, horse cock still twitching and glistening in the
dim light.  I stood up on the bed and straddled him until I was standing
right above his fucked-up head.  I squatted a bit and then bore down like I
was going to take a shit.  I knew what would happen as soon as I relaxed my
sphincter, and it did.

Squirts of his cum, fresh from my ass, splatted down onto his face and
hair.  I could smell that aphrodisiac odor, a warm, sickly-sweet
combination of cum and asshole.  Like a dirty gas station toilet.  I
squatted down a little farther so my asshole stretched open even more and
let loose with the rest of whatever I had in my bowels.  I heard long, wet
farts and soft plopping sounds and my cock started to come to life again.
When I had squeezed out the last of it I lay down beside him and surveyed
the damage.

A nice little puddle of recycled ass-cum shone on his chest.  I smeared it
all over his tits and stomach and then absently drew a swastika in it with
my finger.  When I glanced up at him he was still flat on his back, face
pointed to the ceiling, mouth open and a vapid smile on his goofy lips.  I
sat up and leaned against the headboard and ran my fingers through the mess
on his face, making sure to force my fingers in his mouth as I told him to
suck on them.  When his face was slippery with the filthy mess I ran my
hand through his hair and felt great wet globs of it as I massaged it all
over his head.

Richie smelled fucking nasty and he said, "I don't smell so good, Dan."

"Just leave it alone, Veg," I told him, "You can't wash it off 'til
tomorrow.  That's how real soldiers do it."

We both just lay there, spent and stinking of hot male-on-male sex.  My
room stank bad and I knew I'd have to air it out in the morning before I
opened the bedroom door.  But for now the stench was keeping me horny and
hard.  But I was too wiped-out to do anything about it.  Richie was tired
and ready to go to sleep.

Then he asked me if he'd done it OK.  I laughed and told him fucking was
the only thing he was good for.  He smiled and said, "Oh, good."  That
cracked me up.  He was such a fucking retard.

I got up and found my stiff, nasty sweat socks on the floor and pulled them
back on.  Richie was watching me and I tossed his foul socks at him and
told him to put his back on, too.  He took a long time doing it, so I
helped him because I was so impatient.  As I pulled the socks over his big,
smelly feet my cock lurched up and to the side and I was hard again in
seconds.

I brought his foot up to my face as I inhaled the rank aroma of his raunchy
socks, rubbing my face and head all over the stiff, damp fabric, covering
myself with his stink.  With a few deft motions, I had positioned us so we
were lying head-to-toe.  I shoved my nasty socks in his face and kicked him
lightly in the head, whispering to him to suck on my feet.  After years of
playing with me, Richie knew the routine and hungrily lapped and sucked and
bit on my dirty sock-covered feet.

I guess we both fell asleep pretty fast, cuz when I woke up we were still
in the same position.  I felt cold and moved quickly so I could get under
the covers.  Richie moved in his sleep as I changed positions, still softly
snoring away.  When I was covered up I slid next to him and let his body
heat warm me more thoroughly.  He smelled really nasty, sour and shitty and
bleachy.  I almost gagged but my dick won out, hardening again from the
swampy stink of sex.

In the morning, just as dawn was breaking, I woke up enough to realize I
had a boner that needed attention.  Richie was conveniently lying on his
side so I slowly maneuvered my cock into his asshole.  He moaned and whined
a bit but his snoring kept going as I pushed slowly all the way in.  It
felt so good on my dick, warm and soft and moist.  I fell asleep again, my
prick buried deep inside Richie's bowels.  Every once in a while I would
buck back and forth a few times before sleep overtook my senses and I
lapsed back into oblivion.

I made Richie spend the next day with me.  By the time it was over, I knew
he'd never willingly want to 'play' with me again.  All pretending about
what I did to him being a game was lost and forgotten.  The brutality I
inflicted on his fucked-up body and mind passed swiftly from tormenting
sexplay into true, sadistic, damaging torture.  Richie would never be the
same.  Neither would I.

I was better than ever.