By Max H.

If it's illegal for you to read this story, please move on.

This work is copyright by the author.  No reposting is allowed without the author's consent.

In this story the characters don't practice safe sex.  But this is merely a fantasy.  In the world we all live in, safe sex is the only sane way to go.  Please be careful.

Chapter 6


"Wow," Scott exclaimed as the boys drove home in Hank's truck, "that was intense."

"Oh yeah!" Hank was acutely aware that his cock, still hard, was leaking into his shorts. Though he didn't say anything, he was made even hornier because Scott was rubbing his own boner with one hand and playing with a nipple through his shirt with the other.  

When they pulled into the Waverlys' driveway, Scott said, "It's still early.  You wanna come in?"

"I don't think so, dude."

"Come on, Hank.  I know you're goin' home and whack off."

Hank could see him grinning in the light from the dashboard.

"If you don't, you're gonna explode!"

"Yeah, but that's pretty private."

Scott heaved an exasperated sigh.  "Dammit, Bevans, what's with you?  We've just rimmed each other.  Saturday we fucked each other.  And you're worried about jackin' off with me?  Hell, we even did that a few times back when we were in seventh grade."

"I don't understand you," Hank said.  "I never thought you were gay.  Now you want me to come up to your room and have sex."

"I didn't say anything about having sex.  I just thought you might want to come up and relieve all that pressure with me."  He grinned.  "On the other hand - "

"Don't go there!  I'll pick you up at the regular time tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, okay.  No harm in asking."  He grabbed the door handle.  "We are still friends after all this, aren't we bud?"

"Yeah, dude.  This shit just has my head fucked up.  We're cool."

"Oh, by the way," Scott said, grinning.


"Your 'nads must be interfering with your brains.  This is Saturday.  No school tomorrow.  I'll call you."

Scott bopped him on the shoulder and got out of the car.

When he got home, Hank said hello and goodnight to his parents, who were surprised to see him home so early on a Saturday night.  They didn't know he was currently without a girlfriend.  He went to his bedroom, kicked off his Birks, pulled off his shirt and flopped into his computer chair.  Reconsidering, he stood and dropped his jeans.  His cock had subsided a little, but it was still at least half hard, making a nice bulge in his boxers.  

He turned on the computer and went online.  A few minutes of using Google produced websites featuring pictures of guys rimming and guys finger fucking.  'God,' he thought.  'I never knew things like that happened.  And if I had they'd have made me sick.  Now look at me!  I'm a real pervert.  I fucking loved it when Scott rimmed me, and I liked rimming him almost as much.'

He had to try several different search terms before he got the next site he wanted.  It turned out he needed to look for "sex toys." He was given lists of places where, if he'd had a credit card, he could have bought dildoes, butt plugs, warming lube, and things he'd never imagined.  A bit more experimentation took him to sites that showed guys using dildoes, licking them, playing with them, fucking themselves with them.

He groaned.  That's what he needed.  He remembered the vibrating butt plug the swim team guys had used on him the previous Saturday.  He'd thought at the time he was being tortured.  Now he wanted something like that in the worst way.  He needed something up his ass.  Trying to ignore the realization that what he really wanted up there was a cock, preferably Scott's, he wondered what he might use.

Further browsing brought him to a site where guys were fucking themselves with fruit and veggies: bananas, zucchini, cucumbers, and carrots.  Remembering the pain he'd felt when Jamey had fucked him, he thought everything except the carrots looked too big. Could he sneak a carrot from the fridge?  Probably.  He pulled on his shirt and jeans and padded downstairs.

"Just getting' a snack," he called out to his parents, who were watching something on the television in the family room.  To cover his tracks, he got a glass of milk and some cookies.  He looked in the crisper drawer of the fridge where he found a package of finger-sized carrots but no full-sized ones.  There was a cucumber, but it was much too big.  Frustrated and disappointed, he took the milk and cookies to his room and consumed them as he did some more browsing.

Looking at the pictures, remembering the events of the previous weekend and of that very evening, he became aroused once more. He turned off the computer, brushed his teeth, stripped, and got into bed, making sure his bottle of lube, a product he'd discovered a year or so earlier and kept on hand ever since, was on the night stand.

Scott had been playing with one of his own tits in the truck on the way home.  Hank remembered wondering what it would be like to suck on those beefy pecs with their pink nipples.  He put the tips of two fingers and a thumb to his tongue and got them wet. Then he began to rub and squeeze his left tit.  It had felt better when he was being sucked on at the cabin, but this was pretty good. He wet the fingers of the other hand and began playing with both nipples, imagining it was Scott and Jamey sucking them.

That recollection led to a vivid memory of what followed, that he'd begged to be fucked in order to achieve release.  The shaming experience of asking to be cornholed in front of the swim team and Scott was followed by the pain of the fact, of having Jamey's big cock up his ass.  But the pain subsided quickly, and he was left with the humiliation - and a full feeling.  Yet when the big tool in his ass hit something, his prostate, he'd had this most amazing feeling of euphoria.  Then when Jamey's cock was replaced by that of his best friend Scotty, he'd never felt anything like it.  It was indescribable.  Despite the scary implications, he'd longed to feel Scott inside him again ever since.  

He rolled onto one side, put some lube on his fingers, and worked it up his ass.  Then he did it again.  Making sure his fingers were well coated, he began to work them into his chute.  He didn't like the position so he returned to lying on his back.  He reached down and began slowly frigging his ass with his right hand while he rubbed the copious amounts of precum over his cock.  Soon he was jacking himself with one hand and finger-fucking himself with the other.  Amazing!  Not as good as actually being fucked by Scott, but better than any jerk-off he'd ever had.  So good!  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning.  Mustn't let the parents hear.

God, yes!  Scott!  Yes!  Yes!  Cumming!  Ahhh!  Scott!

He lay there afterward, his abs and chest covered with ropes of cum.  

How could he have gone into the Waverlys' as Scott had suggested?  He couldn't be alone with a naked Scott, Scott showing wood, without begging to be fucked again.  It was bad enough being naked with him when Booker and Dixon were there, but at least there was the nervousness, the tension, the humiliation to keep him from actually saying how much he needed Scott.

But he wasn't gay.  He couldn't be gay.  All this was just something brought on by what the swim team bastards had done to them. If he didn't think about it, thought about women, avoided being alone with Scott, then he could get back to normal.  Normal.  That was it.

When Scott phoned the next day, Hank lied to his friend, saying he had an upset stomach.

"Sorry, man.  Want me to come over.  Feel like watching an NFL game?"

"Nah, not really, dude, but thanks.  I just need to sack out this afternoon.  Then I'll be good to pick you up tomorrow like usual."

"I can get a ride with my mom if you decide to stay home."

"I'm pretty sure I'll be okay by tomorrow.  Count on it unless you hear from me before bedtime tonight."

"Okay.  Feel better soon, bud."

Hank spent the afternoon watching a Falcons game with his dad, who seemed surprised but happy to have him around.  After supper he did some homework and then went online.  He had seen a link to something called the Nifty Archive and he wanted to check it out.  The number and variety of the stories he found there amazed him.  He spent the evening reading, fascinated.

Monday morning at school was one of the worst he'd ever had.  All four of the gay swim team members managed to grope his butt or his package at least once, ostensibly checking to see if he was wearing underwear.  Some of them "checked" him several times. As a result, he was painfully, embarrassingly hard all morning.

When Jamey surreptitiously stuck his thumb in Hank's crack on the way to the cafeteria, Hank jumped.  He almost slugged the smaller guy, but he caught himself in time.

"Jesus Christ, Dixon, haven't you got anything better to do?  I've been walking around all morning holding books in front of me to hide the boner I've got.  And you bastards just won't let it go down."

Jamey smirked.  "Well, Henry, we have to make sure you didn't sneak into a restroom and put on some briefs.  Can't have that, you know."

"As if!  But so help me, if you keep this up I'm gonna have a wet spot on the front of my pants."

"That'd be a real shame, wouldn't it?  Too bad your boyfriend can't give you a blowjob and relieve the tension.  Have you guys fucked yet?"

"No, we haven't fucked.  We're not gonna fuck.  Despite what you keep saying, we're not gay."

"Don't worry about the labels, man.  You two kiss like you can't get enough of each other's tongues.  You've rimmed each other, and you got hard doing it.  You've fucked each other even.  Seriously, Hank, I don't see why you guys just don't admit what you feel for each other and get with the program.  You could be having a lot of fun."

He grinned and groped Hank's ass again.  "Besides, after you guys have finally shed your hang-ups and gotten it on, I think we'd be willing to back off some."

When they got to the lunchroom Jamey went to say hello to some friends.  Hank got in the line and tried to stand so that the throng of eating, talking, laughing students didn't see his woodie.

He chose a place away from other students, relieved to sit, thus hiding his tent.  A few minutes later he saw Scott come into the room, blushing and sporting his own tent.  Scott went through the line and brought his tray to where Hank was sitting.

"Dude, you still feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks, bro."

Scott smiled.  "I figured you must be, or else you'd have gotten something besides pizza for lunch."

They ate for a couple of minutes in silence.  Then Hank said, "I see the guys have been checking you for underwear, too."

The blond, fair-skinned football player blushed.  "Like all the time.  I couldn't get from one class to the next without being groped a couple of times.  I thought Torrance was gonna jack me off right there in the hall."

"Did anybody see?"

"I don't think so.  They managed to do it when we were in crowds.  If anybody had looked down they would have seen for sure, but everybody was talking or else just interested in not being late for class."

"Getting into and out of class has been hard, too, hasn't it?"

Scott grinned.  "You could say that."

By the time he and Scott got into his truck to go home that afternoon, Hank and his friend did have wet spots in the front of their khakis.  Hank had untucked his shirt just after lunch in hopes that it would help hide both the tent and the spot.

The next couple of days were pretty much carbon copies, though by Wednesday it did seem that Carlos, Doug, Jamey, and Torrance had lost some of their enthusiasm for feeling up Scott and Hank.  They added a new twist on Wednesday afternoon, however, when both guys were escorted separately by at least two or three of the swimmers to a little-used restroom and made to drop their trousers.  

"Since you're all boned up anyway," Doug said to Hank, "why don't you just jerk off?  I'm sure you'd feel better."

"Aw, come on you guys, don't make me do this."

"Hell, you've been fucked, you've sucked guys off, you've fucked your buddy Scott, and I hear you and he even rimmed each other with an audience.  Now you're getting all shy and squeamish about jacking off?  I don't think so.  Get with it.  And hurry, we've all got class coming up in a few minutes."

Since he'd been kept at a high state of arousal all day anyway, it didn't take Hank long to shoot a big load into his hand.  He was made to swallow it and lick his hand clean.  After the three guys had left, he washed his hands, but he had the taste of cum in his mouth the rest of the day.

When he met Scott at the truck after school, neither of them had a tent in his pants.  When they got in the car, Scott grinned and said, "Hi, cum breath."  Hank leaned over and sniffed.  "Pot calling the kettle black.  They made you whack off, too, huh?"

"Yup.  And you know what, man?  I was ready!"

"Not the time or the place I'd have chosen, and certainly not the company, but I was too."

"Oh?  And what company would you have chosen?  Not me, from the way you acted after we got back from Jamey's Saturday night."

Hank was embarrassed.  "Oh, that was just, what, an expression?  Man, I really don't like jacking off in front of anybody."

"Wonder what they'll make us do tomorrow?"

"Good question."

It was a good question.  No one checked them for underwear on Thursday.  Hank had pretty well gotten used to the feel of his khakis rubbing against his dick and balls and ass.  And he got through the day with only one hardon, and that was when he noticed a guy in his civics class with a hardon.  He really worried when his own cock chubbed up in response.  'Man,' he thought, 'I'm so fucked up.'

As he hurried toward the exit closest to the student parking lot that afternoon, he was headed off by Carlos and Doug.  "You're coming with us, big guy," Carlos said.

"But I've got to meet Scott at my car."

"No, you don't.  He'll be where we're going."

Hank had no idea where they were taking him.  It was into an area of the building he'd seldom been in.  Finally they stopped by a door, on which Doug tapped three times.  It was opened from the inside by Torrance.  "Ah," he said, "the co-star of this afternoon's little drama."  He grinned at Hank, who realized they were in the backstage area of the school theater.

They made their way through semi-darkness around what looked like household furniture to the stage itself, where there was a sofa on a large oriental type rug.  The whole thing was lighted by a shadeless floor lamp with a dim bulb.  Jamey was there standing in front of a seated Scott, who was taking off his shoes and socks.

"Ah, now we can get on with our porn scene.  Strip, Bevans."

"Guys, someone could come in here any minute.  Isn't the drama club rehearsing for a play?'

"Not today.  I know because I'm in the play, and Mrs. Tertzoff cancelled rehearsals for today," Jamey said.  "The door you came through can be locked from this side, so no one will come in that way.  This will be a private show.  Just you two and the four of us.  Now, get your clothes off."

Hank worried for a minute that the stage curtain might open and there'd be an audience.  Then he realized that Jamey and the others wouldn't expose themselves to that sort of thing. 'Expose.  Yeah, they'd all be exposed all right!'

Soon Scott and Hank were standing hairless and naked before the four swim team guys.

"Now, we're going to use this wonderful Madame Recamier sofa."

"Geez, babe," Torrance said, "sometimes you are so gay!"Get on html

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jamey asked, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"I thought that was called a 'fainting couch.'"

"I thought it was just a goddamned sofa," Doug said.

"Silence, all of you," Jamey said.  "Scott, lie back on the sofa."

Scott stretched out on the sofa, both legs together, arms at his sides.

"Geez, it's not a coffin!" Jamey exclaimed.  "Here, put your right foot on the floor, and your left arm above your head, resting on the raised end of the sofa."  He fiddled with Scott's arm until he got it the way he wanted it.

"Now, here's what's gonna happen.  We're not gonna film this.  We're just all gonna have fun.  You two will be the actors, I'll be the director, and the other guys will be the audience."

Hank rolled his eyes, but fortunately no one saw him.

"Scott, you're lying there waiting for your lover.  He's going to come into the room looking for you.  When you see him, you hold your arms out to him."

"Jeez!" Scott said.

"Yeah, I know, it's pretty cheesy, isn't it?  Now, Hank, when you get to the sofa where your lover is, you sink to your knees.  Then we want to see a long kiss.  But before we start, we want you both hard.  So play with yourselves.  Or do we have a volunteer fluffer?"

"Fluffer?" Carlos asked.

"Man," Torrance exclaimed, "you don't know what a fluffer is?"


"A fluffer is a guy who hangs around where they're making porn flicks.  His job is to suck the guys to help keep them hard."

"Oh.  Well, don't look at me."

"I'll bet you could do a great job," Torrance said, grinning.

"Word!" Doug said.

Carlos scowled at Doug.  Jamey and Torrance laughed.  

Meanwhile, Hank had been standing there staring at Scott.  He wasn't going to need a fluffer.  As he looked at his muscular friend lying there in the provocative pose Jamey had dreamed up, his cock began to harden.  Scott's beautiful pale skin covered his taut muscles.  His cock lay on his left thigh.  His beefy pecs sported erect nipples.  And his blue eyes were on Hank, not the other guys who were standing there joking around.

When Scott saw Hank's tool lengthening and thickening, his, too began to swell.

"Okay, you guys are turning each other on.  You two remember what I've told you so far?"

Hank and Scott nodded without taking their eyes off each other.

"All right then.  Action."

Jamey dramatically clapped his hands together.

Hank moved slowly toward Scott, looking him in the eye.  His hardening cock waggled and bobbed as he walked.  Following instructions, Scott held his arms out to Hank.  It didn't seem theatrical.  Instead, it seemed spontaneous, honest.

"Great," Jamey said.  "Now, Hank, kneel and kiss him.  Make it long and juicy with lots of tongue.  You know what to do.  You've done it before.  Just go with your feelings."

Hank was so focused on Scott that he was barely aware of Jamey's directions.  He sank to his knees, being enfolded in Scott's arms as he did.  They kissed.  When he and Scott had kissed before it had always been with an audience of swim team members. This time the audience was again comprised of swimmers.  This time, though, Hank wasn't numb with fear and embarrassment.  He was fully aware of what he was doing.  He knew he could blame what he was doing on being ordered to do it by guys who were blackmailing him.  But he also knew that he really wanted this kiss.  So he made the most of the situation.  And Scott responded with equal enthusiasm - and skill.  Hank was impressed that his Scotty was such a great kisser.

He became aware that the onlookers were talking to each other.  They were exclaiming over what they were watching.

"Fuck, those two are hot.  And they thought they were straight?"  Doug, his arm around Carlos's waist, licked his friend's ear.  "You can't fake that.  They're really into each other, aren't they?"

"Oh, yeah," Carlos said, though it wasn't clear whether he was agreeing with Doug or reacting to having his ear licked.

"Hank."  "Hank!"  "Bevans!!!"

Hank reluctantly pulled away, though he continued to look into Scott's half-open blue eyes.  "What?"

"Everybody else in the room would like to be sucking on those big tits of Scott's.  But you get the honors.  Work 'em over for a while.  Oh, and enjoy!"  He chuckled.

Hank's groan was echoed by Torrance's.  Torrance stood behind Jamey and put his arms around him, feeling both of his nipples. He began to lick Jamey's ear while simultaneously humping his hard cock against Jamey's crack.

"Ohhh, god, this is soo hot!" Torrance said.  "Baby, you're a genius."

Hank heard but ignored the comments as he moved his mouth from Scott's mouth to his pecs.  The left one was closest, so first he nuzzled it, slowly rubbing the tip of his nose over the erect nub.  Scott groaned and ran his hands over Hank's shoulders and upper back.  

Encouraged by Scott's reaction, Hank began to lick the nipple, first with the flat of his tongue, then with teasing little jabs of the tip.  Scott began to whimper.

"Jamey, babe," Torrance said, "you were soo right about these two."

"Well, there's a theory that guys who are bigtime homophobes are really closet gays.  It seemed pretty likely with these two, since they were always together.  It was worth a try."

"Yeah, man," Doug said.  "You were right.  And look at 'em.  I don't think they even hear us talking."

Hank heard them.  He knew he'd have to think later about what Jamey had said, but at the moment he was enjoying sucking on Scott's tit.  He'd been wanting to do that, and here was his chance to do it without guilt.  He was being made to, after all.

He moved to the other pec and began to work on it as Scott's moans became more intense.  

A few minutes later, Jamey said, "Okay, guys.  Enough of that.  Now you're going to experience frottage."

Hank raised his head and looked at Jamey, a puzzled expression on his face.

"It's simple.  Get up on the sofa and put your knees on either side of Scott's legs.  Then stretch out over him, arms on either side. That way you two can kiss and press your cocks against each other's bellies, but you won't be resting all your weight on him.  Go ahead.  Try it."

Hank could feel the wetness of Scott's cock as it pressed against his lower abs.  He knew his own tool was leaking all over Scott as well.

"Oohh," Jamey groaned.  "That's great.  Now just hump each other and do whatever else comes naturally."

Hank looked down into Scott's eyes, which were now wide open and staring back at him, blue eyes at brown eyes.  Scott smiled and licked his lips.  "Come on, stud," he said.

They kissed again as they humped each other.  All of the precum made them both slippery, and the feeling of their hot, hard tools sliding around together was unlike anything else Hank had ever experienced.  He wasn't rational enough to decide how it compared to having his dick in Scott or having Scott's dick in him.  All he knew was that this was pretty damn fine, and he wasn't gonna be hung up on labels anymore.  He had to have more of this.  More of Scott.

Two horny eighteen year olds can only hold back so long.  Hank didn't want to cum.  He wanted this to go on forever.  But nature can't be denied, and soon he and Scott blasted loads of cum on themselves and each other.  

Hank was dizzy, glad he wasn't standing.  He slumped onto Scott, who wrapped him in his arms and began kissing him again.

Eventually, Hank became aware that there'd been no comment for a while from the onlookers.  He and Scott looked over to see that all four swimmers, still paired off, had dropped their pants and underpants and were kissing, arms around each other, humping each other.

Hank looked at Scott, who grinned back at him.  They didn't have anything to clean the cum off themselves, so they took turns licking it off each other.  Then they dressed.  As they were walking quietly toward the stage door, Jamey disengaged from Torrance long enough to say,  "Thanks guys.  See you tomorrow.  You can wear underwear if you want to.  But, look, it's about time you admitted to each other how you feel.  Think about all you're missing if you don't."

With that he turned back to kissing and humping Torrance.

Scott and Hank closed the stage door quietly behind them and went to Hank's truck.

To be concluded.

If you'd like to write me about this chapter, please do at lilperv76 (at) yahoo (dot) com.  Be sure to put the title of the story in the subject line so I'll know it's not spam.  Thanks.  --Max