The following contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts between consenting teenage boys. It is a work of pure fiction and has no basis in the real world. Any similarities between people and places is just simple and plain coincidence. Do not read this story if you are under 18 or the legal age in your area; or, if it is just down right illegal to read this material where you live. And, don't go any further if you don't want to read about gay/bisexuals falling in love and having sex.
The author of this story retains copyright to this story and its characters. Reproducing this story for distribution without the author's explicit permission is a violation of that copyright.
Life is crazy sometimes. For almost the past year, a lot has been going on outside the borders of the world inside this almost equally crazy tale. I sincerely apologize to all those who have been loyal following the goings on in this series and promise that I'm back to work on it and will be bringing you final chapters of Strangers on a Train.
Please, feel free to email me with your comments, questions, or just general thoughts for this story at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Strangers on a Train
by. J. A. Adkins
Part 17-Max and Me
"What are you doing?" Max asked me from the top of his front porch.
I stopped walking in mid-stride. Suddenly I was aware of my surroundings-or at least that they were different from where I normally would go every other afternoon-and who had spoken. I held my breath, rewinding the last several minutes in my head until I came to the shocking, obvious conclusion. I had followed Max Aralia home.
"Are you following me?" Max asked.
I looked up at him again, my face pale and my hands shaking at my sides. "What?" All the nerve I had built up, all the confidence I was able to muster while walking along the sidewalk behind him suddenly vanished. "Umm...I..."
"It's a yes or no question." He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the post at the top of the stairs. "Answer truthfully," he said with the slightest hint of a grin on his face.
I blinked away the nausea and dizziness. The swirls of vertigo spinning the world unnaturally retreated away from my vision and I found my footing on the driveway. I looked away, then up at him again. His eyes locked with mine and he wasn't letting go. Those pale, icy green eyes stole my soul right at that moment. I felt it happen. I let it happen. And Max was all too aware of it.
"Yes," I finally said.
His slight grin grew more defined. He stood up straight. "Good."
That was all he said. His drill-like gaze never broke away from my eyes until he turned around and went inside. I took a single step closer to the porch, then another until I was finally standing on the bottom of the step. I had followed him this far without much hesitation. Yet, I couldn't urge myself closer to his front door any faster. I looked up quickly, watching him pass by the thin, metal-framed screen door. "Hurry up, if you're coming in. My Aunt will be home in a few hours."
I don't know how it happened. I don't know where I ever got the strength or speed. I don't remember anything about my own thoughts. I existed so much in the moment after that. My brain was left on that bottom step, leaving my body responsible for its own actions. Time didn't slow down. It sped up instead. In a flash I was in the dusty, dimly lit house. The front door was closed and locked somewhere behind me. My heartbeat seemed thunderous in the silence. It reverberated from my chest with swift, rapid beats, driving the tempo of our motions.
In seconds, it seemed, we were in his room. Horrible flashes of a sunny, summer afternoon crowded my vision until I felt Max's lips on mine. In an instant I was receiving his kiss then kissing him back and leading us backwards to his bed. We fell together onto the mattress. His fingers grazed my navel before hovering above the waistline of my jeans. He stopped his motions. I looked at him, realizing he was trying to let me lead. He wanted to know what was safe and out of bounds. With the purest lust in my eyes, blood, and muscles I pushed his fingers into my pants.
Then they were off. In the craziness of a rapid, wheel-spin flash of time I was naked then covered by his own amazing body. His lips massaged my neck. His hands caressed my hair. His teeth and tongue teased my nipples. I was moaning with each new sensation. But all I remember hearing were my heartbeats. His tongue was hurrying down my stomach, turning my skin to gooseflesh. Then I felt it. His fingers tickled my balls, leading the way for that seductive tongue. I looked down, breathless, at the moment he engulfed my rock hard and mad-pulsing five inch cock.
My orgasm that followed seemed to last a thousand years and melt into the next one. This time it would be while he fucked me. He started slow but it wouldn't be long before he was ravaging my sensitive anal canal with his smooth, seven inch member. I felt the stirrings of this orgasm in my toes until I exploded across his bed and then again later on the shower wall. Max sucked and fucked me everyday that week. I can't remember what day we did what, now. Each day was earth-shattering and left my body tired, weak, and desperate for even more. I measured time by each orgasm, or how long it was until the next one. This was while I still could measure time by any accurate degree. The slow fading afternoon sunlight I saw out the screen door or through his bedroom window would be the last time I clearly remembered it for a long period to come.
Time leaped to the next week. We tried something new. Max wanted me to pleasure him. But that wasn't all. He wanted to get high first. I hesitated until I looked into his eyes. By the time my consciousness kicked back in, his room smelled of weed and I was thrusting wildly in and out of his ass, holding on to the edge of climax and trying not to end my fun too quickly. Most of the week had already passed by. The taint of hash and Max's cum was constantly on my tongue, driving me crazy during the school day. I was addicted to the taste of him and the thrill of him inside of me. I was excited by anything he wanted to try or do to me or with me. Eventually we even stopped going to the cafeteria. We made out in the bathroom before Max found a way into the basement of the theater building one day. The rest of the school day would float past my post-orgasmic and pot-mellowed senses.
The first three months of school passed between each afternoon at Max's house. My parents thought I had finally made some new friends, keeping them at bay for the most part. My surprisingly un-hindered grades helped protect my new hobby as well. My life was perfect, I had thought. Everything was as it should be. On Halloween of that year, however, things took another shift and the fading light outside my eyes grew a little darker.
Max invited me to go to a party with him. There were mostly upperclassmen there nursing plastic cups of various mixed drinks. They mingled and laughed from behind their make-up and masks. I found Jessie there. She was going out with a junior basketball player. I introduced her to Max as casually as I could. I remember being suddenly shy around her. I hadn't told her anything about the last few months. My absence from the lunch table and disenchantment with reality during classes had put a gap between us. While she and I talked, Max let me drink enough to get a soothing buzz. I watched him on the other side of the room talking pleasantly with a skeleton.
Near the end of the party, Jessie left with her boyfriend and I waited for mine. The house emptied completely of party-goers before Max made his presence known again. He said we would be staying the night here. I phoned an excuse to my parents, barely just getting permission. When I hung up the phone, another party was starting. The host of the first one was hosting this one as well. The mysterious skeleton shook my hand. His fingers held in mine for an extra second. Suddenly, I knew.
I waited for the hash to appear, feeling the buzz of the weakened alcohol disappearing into the fading hours of the night. Instead of our usual weed, Max revealed something new he wanted to use. "Crystal meth...." are words that I can barely remember coming with his voice in echoing spurts strangely through my mind.
Time and space played tricks with my senses. It seemed in a split second, Max and I were naked and kissing madly. Then, the skeleton was there. No longer a skeleton but instead the senior football captain and class president naked and horny as all hell. His pre-cum-dripping nine inches of healthy boy-meat was in my hungry mouth in a flash. I remember being on my knees, then on my back. My ass was full with Max's hard seven inches hammering in and out so hungrily while at the same time my mouth was being fucked by the host of our new little party.
I don't know if it was the drugs or just the moment itself, but suddenly I remember finding myself back by the creek. The black-lit living room with the warm, soft carpeting was replaced by the tepid ground on that sunny afternoon. The image was spurring me on. Those boys were there, at the edges of my teary vision. I heard them laughing above the moans in the living room. I could feel their hot flesh tearing into mine, making me their own; trying to destroy me while they got off. But as I felt the warm gushes of Max's seed roping around my prostate, I realized I wouldn't let those boys win. The blonde devils who tore into me would not torture me anymore. I would use each fuck, each ejaculation to get further from. To be better than them. I would prove they didn't hurt me; but instead only set me free.
By the time I awoke to the harsh, gray light of the next day naked and soar at every orifice, the three of us had filled each other up no less than four times each. I stood at the front window, dizzy. The outside world looked so alien then. I knew I was changing. I could feel something strange, even dark un-curling and taking over deep within me. And, I was suddenly aware, then, that I was no longer the only one who knew this. From the front lawn, Jessie stared motionlessly back at me. My naked form was in full view of her, but she was only looking at my face. She was searching for the boy she had met so many years ago at a pool party. Both of us knew, though, that he no longer existed.
"Why didn't you tell me?" came Jessie's voice like the sudden screeching of brakes on a dark, rainy night out of nowhere.
It was the middle of the week now. Somewhere in the distance of my mind, the craziness of that late Halloween night and the sight of Jessie the following morning standing outside the window hung heavily on my numbed consciousness.
"Answer me," she yelled. Her voice was sad. I felt her fingers wrap tightly around my arm, stopping my attempts to get away from her. She swung me around, a task that I now realize was much easier than it should have been. "Taylor! What the hell is going on?! What were you doing there?!"
I looked at her, dumbly at first. I couldn't think of what to say. As my surroundings came into focus, though, and my mind caught up to itself, I could feel myself getting annoyed. Anger bubbled wickedly in that swelling darkness inside of me. It was someplace growing and consuming me day by day. I wanted to get to Max's house. We hadn't been able to get together since that morning. He and the other boy...the senior football captain had played with me again that morning after Halloween. They played hard for hours, and I played harder. Each hot, pulsing thrust of their cocks into my boy-pussy sent icy, thrilling shivers through my body, electrifying my spine and senses. Each taste of cock, each feel of their skin on my own was numbing and exciting at the same time.
As the late autumn morning turned into afternoon, the smell of sweaty sex hung in the air of host's living room. It lingered on my tongue. I felt like I had more cum in me than blood. I reveled in it for it seemed to push the demons lurking at the edge of my conscience away. My reward for being such a good boy had been enough hash to last me for three days; as well as the hazy memories of what the three of us had done together.
"Taylor?!" Jessie yelled again. She was getting impatient. I hadn't answered her yet.
"You were there," I finally said. "You saw it. If you don't know what it's called, start watching more TV and spend a little less time spying on me!"
My voice had been colder than I intended. I watched each word slap her harshly in the face. What I said left her stunned and speechless. A spark of my life before Max, a ray of sunshine deep in the recesses of my mind came to the surface just then-long enough for me to realize what I had said and how I had said it. "Jessie...I..."
But she turned her back toward me, starting back up the sidewalk toward school. I didn't call after her or chase her down. It wouldn't be long before I would realize I didn't have to at all. Jessie already had her own plans in mind.
The confrontation on the sidewalk was only the first unsettling event of that day. When I had finally arrived at Max's house, I felt my heart skip a painful beat once the sight of a car in the driveway consumed my vision. His aunt wasn't supposed to be home yet. She never came home before seven. Then, my heart skipped again when Max emerged from the dim confines of the house with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a suitcase in his hand.
"Hey kid," he said with a grin on his face. He dropped his bags into the open trunk of the car then met me at the bottom of the driveway.
"Wha...What's going on?"
Max put an arm around my shoulder, his attitude and voice as casual as ever. "I've got to go out of town for a few days. Maybe a week or two. My parents are vacationing in Aspen and want to talk to me about some things. So I have to go and meet them there."
"Oh, wow." I said. "Sounds nice." Then, the reality of no sex, no drugs, no escape from the world I had once been so pleasantly apart of punched me in the stomach. I stopped walking, realizing that Max was also leading me down the sidewalk.
"So you're going to be gone for a week?"
"Maybe two," he added without sympathy.
"Oh," I said, my voice uneasy.
Max put both hands on my shoulders, turning me so that were nearly face to face. "But don't worry. I'll be back in time for my birthday. And you're going to help me celebrate." His grin grew devilish. Sparks of wicked, wet, and dirty imagery flashed excitingly by in my imagination. I felt my dick filling with blood and pressing against my boxer shorts. "In the meantime, I've arranged a way for you to help...pass the time."
Max had given me a list. A note card of names and phone numbers I took with trembling fingers. There were dates and times near each one...Appointments. The list stared at me from my desk in the moonlit darkness of my room. It was schedule of hungry dicks and wanting asses that needed to be played with. They were awaiting my call. They were awaiting my services and the pleasure that my body would bring them. To protect me, Max hadn't revealed my address or phone number to any of them. He said most I had seen around school. The rest were acquaintances from around the area.
I remember feeling my whole body suddenly shaking nervously. It was several more moments before I realized it was because I was standing outside in the cold. I had climbed down to the street from the small stoop outside my windows. I coughed, still able to smell the pot on my breath. I quietly whispered a thanks to my instinct to ration. Time slipped past me again, skulking around me dizzyingly, teasing me as it led me blindly to each new moment that would follow. I had seen the phone booth so many times before. This time it was set dead in my sights, holding my full attention. The moon's light seemed to be drawn only to it, holding the narrow glass case in a wide spotlight and isolating it from the rest of the world.
I had finished dialing the number at the top of the list of over fifteen names before I could stop myself from pressing the first digit on the greasy keypad. The phone on the other end of the call rang three times. I felt my heart rattling in my chest, beating with a steel hammer into my ribs. I wanted to hang up. I should have hung up. How differently my life might have turned out if only I had put that oily, black telephone back on its cradle; if I had just walked away from that booth before the end of the third ring.
But I didn't. I held it to my ear and listened as a voice still all too familiar answered tiredly. "Hello?" It was the senior football captain and president of his class.
My response, a simple "Hey, its Taylor..." echoed around and around me that chilly night in the brief minutes that came and went before the headlights of his Mustang blinded my eyes.
When I got in the car, there was no "Hello" or "Hey, what's up?" from him. He glanced over at me after I shut the door. Over the hum of his mile hungry engine, I heard him say simply, "Take your clothes off."
In an instant I had the clothes I had thrown on before leaving home in a pile on his floorboard. The warm air from his heater brushed my naked flesh. The leather of the seat was smooth against my hanging balls. I saw him look over and smile. Hardly another mile would pass under the tires of his car in the frozen darkness of that November night before I was massaging the towering erection pressing fiercely against the thin, cotton sweat pants he was wearing. It was the only thing he was wearing-besides a pair of flip-flops. While he drove, I continued working his leaky member to its stiffest length and sucked like a baby on his adorable dime-sized nipples.
A few minutes later, his sweat pants were off. His car was sitting silently off the highway somewhere, consumed by the looming shadows of towering trees. His clothes were with mine, lost in the front seat. His body was on top of my own as his lips massaged my own and his hands wandered anxiously up and down my body, groping the insides of my thighs and then my balls and throbbing penis. Our bodies wrestled in the tight space in step with our tongues until I was straddling him. His thick, uncut eight inches dug deep into my ass again and again as I mounted him excitedly. Harder and harder he bucked into me, raising his ass and the both of us off the seat again and again. Glistening trails of warm pre-cum slipping from the head of my hard dick stained his eight-pack abs where my cock bounced up and down on them.
The car and the world seemed to spin as I felt him getting closer. The trees seemed to turn into naked forms, watching expectantly in my eyes while the jock-boy erupted madly into my tightening hole. He moaned loudly, desperately as his dick expanded in my clasping ass. I wanted to cum right there, to splatter his chest with my boiling, white seed. But he wouldn't let me. Within moments I was on my back, gasping with the first sensations of his tongue tickling my cock-head. He sucked hard, expertly, and playfully so that it only took a few moaning minutes before my own orgasm flooded his mouth. He leaned forward, his lips finding mine again. I tried to greet his tongue but was supplied with the warmth of my own sperm slipping into my mouth.
I remember laying there in the back of his car, breathless with my heart pounding madly against my chest. I remember passing out, seeing the trees retreat back into the shadows before waking up naked in my own bed. I remember the nights that would come after that as I worked my way down the list. I remember things I wish I didn't; and can't remember things I wish I could. I tasted the sweat of so many different guys, and then many of the same. I swallowed so much dick and cum. I unleashed my load into tight asses belonging to human smudges: peach and olive-tinted stains on the passing haze of time.
I remember the parties at the end of each week. I remember being naked at the end of them, or sometimes even the middle or beginnings. I can't remember any words or conversations. Names aren't even worth the effort of trying to recall. I can't remember how much time went by, or what hours I snuck out of the house or how much noise I made trying to get back to my room and my own bed. Each new encounter, each appointment seemed like a dream. I began to think I would wake up and find them all in my room. It would be the orgy of a lifetime and I was only 15.
It hadn't been weeks, I eventually realized. Months had come and gone since Max's departure. Summer was fast approaching. On the last day of school, my parents met me at the bottom of the steps.
"You're going to your cousins' for the summer," they had said. The changes in my life had begun to show themselves. Too many times they had caught me sneaking out or sneaking back in. Their efforts to punish me, to set me straight-with little pun intended-had had little to no effect. So what they said next shouldn't have been as such a surprise as I had taken it to be.
"You're going to a private school in September. No more games."
Their hope was that I would get the discipline and structure at a private school that they just didn't know how to give themselves. Their good little son was long gone, lost in the dark shadows of youthful inhibition and adulterated passion and even obsession.
Things would work out to their liking for a time. But like all good things, even that would come to a devastating end.