Date: Mon, 05 Nov 2001 22:24:29 -0500
From: Captain Chlorophyll <CapnChlorophyll@netscape.net>
Subject: "Halloween Treat" 1/1 (m/m, anal, con, HS)

WARNING: This is an erotic fiction story intended to be read by individuals
who have reached the age of majority (18 or 21 years in most places).  If
you do not wish to read about love or homosexual acts between males,
proceed no farther.

DISCLAIMER: This short story is a fantasy of my own creation.  The
characters are completely original and not based on any real person.  Any
resemblance to someone living or dead is completely coincidental.

=====

"Halloween Treat"
by Captain Chlorophyll

It wasn't any colder than average this Halloween, but that didn't matter.
Scotty and I were so heated up that we would have done it in a snowbank if
we had to.  I suppose I should start before the sex, though, so it will be
easier for you to follow.  I apologize, but after you read about the sex we
had that night, you'll understand while I'm still thinking about the
climax.

Scotty and I are boyfriends, but this isn't one of those stories about us
growing up as best friends then making love as our relationship deepened.
I didn't even know him until last year.  His family moved into our town (my
development actually) during the summer before our sophomore year, so I
immediately noticed him, the new kid, on the first day of driver's ed.

I've always felt sorry for the underdog, so I tried to befriend the new kid
in town.  I wasn't sexually attracted to him then, so I didn't push things
along.  We walked to and from school together, talking about the dreams we
had of driving, griping about our teachers -- all the usual teenage boy
topics except girls.  I eventually picked up on that, and he did too.

Our Driver's Ed. class was last period.  It was the only class we had
together.  At the end of the marking period, when Driver's Ed. stopped and
gym class took its place, I'd be eligible for my license, having had my
birthday in early October.  I preferred gym class because it meant I could
see dozens of guys in nothing but their underwear.  Our locker room has
showers, but we aren't made to use them, so I never see anyone naked.  I
didn't even get to see Scott in his underwear.  Owing to the curse of
alphabetical order, he wasn't even in the same row of lockers.  On the
other hand, I was lucky enough to be next to one of the guys on the
wrestling team, so I had something to keep me entertained.  Each day, the
first thing I'd do when I got home from school was beat off, thinking about
that wrestler's body.  Later, as Scotty and I became friends and went to
each other's houses after school, I would have to delay my ritual, but I
never missed a day shooting my load over that guy.

Scotty came up with the odd idea that winter to shovel each other's
driveways.  The very idea of walking through the snow to shovel a house a
couple blocks away, leaving your own unattended, seemed downright stupid at
first.  However, you still get the satisfaction of completing your chores,
your driveway is shoveled by the time you get home, and you didn't even
have to be the one to do it!  And, God help me, I thought it was romantic
in a way.  Last Christmas, Scotty gave me a shirt, and I gave him a cheap
necklace.  When he called me that evening to thank me for the gift, we
decided to be boyfriends.

We couldn't be out at school.  It amazes me to read stories about guys who
aren't harassed, bullied, or even beaten up because they are out to their
classmates.  If we tried that in our school, we would be hounded off the
grounds at the very least.  Fortunately, we only had that gym class
together, and we don't have any classes together this year, so we can't be
caught giving each other "goo-goo eyes" in school.  Plus, each of us will
probably ask a girl to the junior prom this year, to maintain the image
school requires of us.

Scotty's house has a pool in the backyard, and that's where we had planned
to spend our summer.  My mom, however, made me get a job, and Scotty had to
keep his house clean.  His dad works for a stockbroker, and his mom is an
RN, so it was his responsibility to do the chores.  My mom is a housewife,
and she does the cooking and cleaning, but it's up to me to help my dad in
the yard.  Scotty and I did get some time in the pool each day (usually
with my bratty little sister in tow), but we were rarely alone.

The first time we changed in his room after swimming was the first time we
had seen each other with our pants off, let alone naked.  Before that, we
had to settle for shirts vs. skins games in gym.  I had to take my sister
home, so all we had time for was getting ourselves hard for each other.  On
most days, we barely had time to cop a feel before parting.

Scotty's parents took him on a three week trip to England that summer.  (I
don't know how his mom was allowed that much time away from the hospital.)
They gave me the key and alarm code, so I could get the mail, water the
plants, mow the yard, and clean the pool.  Each time I was there, I lay on
his bed and jerked off, thinking about him.

You're probably wondering when I'm going to get to the juicy (literally)
part.  Well, Mrs. Williams, my English teacher, says that all good stories
have a generous exposition before reaching the climax and denouement.  I
like to think that "denouement" is a French word for a post-coital
cigarette.  I'm almost there, so unzip yourself (if you haven't already)
and make yourself comfortable.

Our sexual relationship naturally progressed from masturbating to sucking
to sixty-nining and fingering.  The first time we fucked, I took his
cherry.  I thought I had hurt him; he was grunting and writhing beneath me.
He told me he was enjoying it.  His grunts became moans then shouts.  His
bucking, I kid you not, actually became vibrating twice.  He was a natural
bottom.  I nearly got off just from the power of causing another human
being that much pleasure.  What pulled my trigger, though, was when his
entire body seized up: his jaw, his arms, his legs, and especially his ass.
He clamped down on my dick so hard, I had no choice but to empty my balls
into him.

When we pulled apart, I saw that his sheets could barely absorb the load he
had shot.  If he had enjoyed himself that much, how much liquid had I
pumped into him?  I was surprised that he didn't run for the bathroom to
empty himself, but he merely reclined with a satisfied look on his face.

We held off on him doing me until a later date.  I enjoyed having him in
me, but it didn't give me a mind-blowing orgasm like it had him.  In fact,
he had to jerk me off while sucking his slime out of my hole.  Of course,
he then licked my load off me.  We realized then that he was a bottom and I
was a top.  On occasion, he'll mount me, like this Halloween, but that's
rare.

Our high school always throws a "safe and sober" Halloween dance.  All the
students go in costume, and most go stag.  At this year's dance, I ended up
dancing with my friend Jeanne a lot, and Scotty spent much of the evening
with Marcy, so we ended up being kind of their unofficial dates for the
dance.  I think I'll suggest to Scotty that we use them as our "cover"
girlfriends.  Anyway, we walked them to their parents' cars after the dance
before heading home ourselves.

You'd think that, with autumn well underway, my mom would have let me drive
to the dance, especially since our costumes weren't too warm, but she had
two reasons against it.  First, we were close enough to walk to school.
Second, she didn't want us driving on a night known for partying and
drinking, in case someone didn't bother to sober up before leaving their
party.  Her only advice was "just wear a warm coat, so you don't catch your
death."

I went as Pinocchio.  I wore a white shirt, red bow tie, navy blue shorts,
blue dress socks pulled up to my knees, and black shoes.  Sure, it was all
my own clothes (except for the bow tie, which I borrowed from my dad), but
shorts aren't the best costume for the day before November!  At least the
guy who went as a flasher had a nice, long, warm coat over his shorts all
night.  My only problem was finding a fake nose.  I did end up finding a
lightweight, wooden one that fit on my head with elastic.  I topped it off
with a dippy little hat.

I teased Scotty that he should go as a gay vampire, with cum trickling out
of his mouth.  What followed was him stalking me around his house, calling
out, "I vahnt... to suck... your cock!" and I played the helpless virgin
who eventually succumbed and let the vampire drink his essence.  Okay, so I
didn't struggle all that much once he pinned me down.  He eventually
settled for making a toga out of a sheet.  His parents might be rich, but
they wouldn't give him the money to buy a Roman centurion costume like
Russell Crowe's in "Gladiator".

After we said good night to the girls, Scotty asked me to walk behind the
school to one of the practice fields.  He had wanted some time alone with
me before we went home, so he had told our parents that the dance ended at
eleven instead of ten.  Even though it was a full moon, no one could see us
because we wore our black trench coats over our costumes.

Don't get me wrong when you read "black trench coats"; we're not freaks
threatening to gun down our classmates.  Scotty had one because he often
had to accompany his parents to formal parties thrown by someone in his
dad's brokerage firm.  I had one because my grandmother died last January,
and I had to buy it to wear over my suit.  Anyway, the black coats kept us
obscured until we took them off on the practice field.

We held hands on the way, pretty sure that no one else would go behind the
school after the dance.  It felt nice.  All of a sudden, I imagined us as
college room mates and poster boys for the campus gay community.  I hope
whatever school we go to is more tolerant than here.  I thought that was
really romantic, and I stopped walking and pulled him to me.  I kissed him,
and I would have slipped him my tongue, but he warned me to wait until we
were out of the rear parking lot and safely on the field.

Once we got there, he spread his overcoat on the ground and asked me to do
the same.  When I had, he grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to face
him.  "Jase," he said, "I think we did pretty well tonight, but I couldn't
keep my eyes off of you.  I'm glad I had this baggy sheet covering me; I
was like this most of the night."

He lifted the front of his toga, displaying his hard-on encased in white
Calvin Klein briefs.  I briefly wondered (no pun intended) if he wore those
to gym class.  Probably not -- he could have tried using the "lifestyles of
the rich and famous" excuse, but wearing brand name underwear (or even
colored briefs) in the locker room would have branded him as a fag.  (I
told you our school was close-minded.)

Scotty stepped forward, and I caressed his bulge.  He moaned into my mouth
as our lips met.  Damn, his Calvin's were soft, a heck of a lot softer than
the three-packs my mom always buys me!  Maybe they were worth the extra
money.  Thoughts soon fled as lust took control.

When he finally pulled away, he had started leaking, his hands had found
their way into the back of my shorts, and we were panting as if we had just
finished running a mile in gym class.  "Jase, I want to....  I'm going to
ask you to do something... different tonight, different than what we've
done so far."

I pictured myself as a sultan who, instead of a harem, had Scotty as his
sex partner.  Our cocks would bulge obscenely in those billowy pants.  We'd
fuck each other silly, leaving "snail tracks" of cum all over the cushions
and pillows beneath us.

If one use of the word "different" let me conjure that image, I didn't
think I would turn down his request.  My body was on autopilot, and its
charted course was the island of teen-boy sex.  Did he actually think I was
going to say no to whatever he was thinking?  "Tell me."

He sat down Indian-style on his coat and pulled me down next to him.  "I
couldn't keep my eyes off of you.  The few inches of leg between your
shorts and socks were kind of a thrill, and your nose reminded me of
your... fabulous shaft.  This probably sounds kinky, but it kind
of... turned me on."

Scotty had never had a problem telling me what he wanted before.  Then
again, we usually didn't talk, too eager to get each other off.  In his
defense, we are each other's only partners, and we're still in high school,
so we hadn't done much sexually.  Over time, I expect us to be less
"vanilla".  That's another one of the things I fantasize about when I think
of going off to college.

Scotty leaned across me and fumbled in my coat.  I tilted my head and
sniffed his aftershave then kissed him behind his ear.  He sat back up,
holding the balsa wood nose I had stuffed in my pocket after Jeanne's and
Marcy's dads had asked to see my costume.  I stifled a laugh as I realized
what he was seeking.  "Is that a nose in your pocket, or are you just happy
to see me?" I thought to myself.  I still had on the goofy hat.  It was
secured under my chin with an elastic band, so it was easier to carry that
way.

He lightly toyed with the artificial proboscis as he continued speaking.
"So firm, so straight, sticking out from your body, is it any wonder I
couldn't keep my mind off you?"  I had softened to half-hardness by this
time, but he was probably still completely erect.  "Jase, I want you
to...."

He gulped audibly.  I had never heard anyone do that outside of a cartoon,
and I nearly laughed again.  What was wrong with me?  He was turned on, and
I was cracking jokes to myself.

He had lost track of his voice.  He merely stared at the fake nose, which
he was stroking almost lovingly.  He looked at it, not me, when he
continued.  "I want you to... fuck me with this, Jase."  Only then did his
eyes meet mine.

I may have gotten soft, but the look in his eyes reminded me of where my
auto-pilot was steering us.  I stiffened again as I nodded my response to
his lust-filled eyes.  "Anything for you, Scotty," and I kissed him to show
I meant it.

We fell back on our coats and Frenched a little while.  I stopped kissing
to suckle his exposed nipple, blow on it, and watch it stiffen in the
chilling night air, and then rub my false nose against it.  He moaned in
delight; this really did turn him on.  I wonder what other sort of things
my bottom-boy would introduce me to.  "My pocket," he gasped.

I dropped the nose onto his stomach and rummaged beneath his legs.  He
picked it up and caressed it some more as I searched.  In his coat pocket
were condoms and lube.  Until that point, we had never used condoms because
we were each other's first and only sex partners.  It dawned on me then
that he had been aroused by the costume appendage long before the dance,
since the day a couple of weeks ago when I modeled my costume.  I mentally
shrugged my shoulders and unrolled one of the condoms onto the wooden shaft
which he held up for me.

"Wait," he said as I reached for the lube.  He began kissing and licking
and sucking the phallic object.  I recognized the way his face looked as
performed the same action on me numerous times.  The nose wasn't wide
enough to fill the sheath, so Scotty held the end tightly, but that didn't
stop him from taking nearly half of the penis substitute into his mouth.
"Here," he said, thrusting the object at me after popping it out from
between his lips.

I took it, and he lifted his hips to peel off his briefs.  I caught a
glimpse of his cock in the moonlight before the toga draped over it again.
Scotty rolled over and got up on his hands and knees.  "Now fuck me with
it."

I lubed it quickly but slid it into his pucker slowly.  He moaned loudly as
it went in, and I leaked into my briefs.  He pushed back for more, but I
was afraid of putting it in too deep and injuring him.  I wrapped my fist
around the rim of the rubber and held as tightly as I could to the
slickened surface.

As I began wiggling it inside his hungry hole, he chanted, "Yeah, yeah,
yeah."  I knew I had rubbed his prostate when his head shot back and he
hissed.  I kept varying the pace and direction but returned to his prostate
frequently.

Within minutes, he began bucking his hips.  A strangled cry escaped his
throat, and I couldn't move the fake nose any more; he hand clenched in
orgasm.  I couldn't see his cockhead, but I knew it was spewing mightily
into the sheet wrapped around him.

"Now you," he gasped.  I dropped the makeshift dildo and wasted no time
shoving my shorts and briefs down to my knees and mounting him in one
thrust.  His ass was still lubed from the nose, and his cock-hungry hole
swallowed me at once.

I couldn't hold back.  I pounded him savagely.  His display had warmed me
up, and I was ready to boil over.  I let go of his hips, leaned down on his
back, and supported my weight on my arms.  I jabbed him repeatedly, quick
jabs limited in movement but not intensity.  I could have sworn I growled
as I planted my seed in his furrow, but it also could have been the sound
of blood pounding in my ears.

Gasping for breath, I rolled off him and onto the ground.  I weakly reached
down to untangle my legs from my shorts and underwear.  It was probably
below 50 degrees by then, but neither of us felt the cold.  I also gave no
thought to how ridiculous I probably looked: still wearing my shirt, socks,
and shoes but buck naked between them, not to mention the cummy, slimy,
spent prick drooling onto my own pelvis.

Scotty didn't seem to care; he was still hard and hot to come again.  He
grabbed the lube and lifted my legs.  Seconds later, he was balls deep in
my back passage, and I was gasping in pain.  My penis had shriveled in
response.  We rarely coupled this way, and he hadn't taken time to prepare
me.  I hurt bad, but I could sense the need and managed to derive a bit of
pleasure from the realization that I was satisfying him.

For the next minute or so, he didn't thrust at all.  First, he hooked his
toga around my raised feet, so I could hold it away from our conjoined
pelvises.  Then, he fumbled around for my costume nose and tried balancing
it on my chest.  I was still breathing hard, so it fell over each time.  He
gave up and let it lie on my chest as he reached for the lube.  Scotty
reslicked the condom and wrapped my fingers around the wooden member.
"Fuck me with it as I fuck you."

The position was awkward, not to mention I couldn't see what I was doing,
so I had several near misses trying to find his hole.  When I finally hit
the spot, he nodded and said, "That's it."  I pushed, he opened up, and the
makeshift dildo slid inside.  Scotty shut his eyes and hissed through his
teeth.  "Oh, baby, you don't know how good this feels."

For him maybe, but my sphincter was still adjusting to his presence.  He
started sliding slowly in and out.  Finally, my ass was ready to accept its
invader and loosened its grip -- not much, but enough that Scotty took it
as a signal to go faster.  Meanwhile, I wiggled my costume nose as he
bounced back and forth.

After a few tries, I found the right angle to rub his prostate, and Scotty
bucked his hips faster.  It was about damn time; my arm was starting to
burn, and I think I was getting a cramp in my leg.

"Oh, Jase, this is great.  Thank you.  You're the best.  I'm ready to....
I'm going to...."  Again, he seized up, and he let out a wail -- really
loud.  I prayed that there really was no one around who would come and
investigate.  The wail softened and turned into a grunt as he collapsed on
my chest -- or maybe it was me that grunted from the impact.

I dropped my legs, which twitched for a while as the muscles relaxed, and
my right arm fell, a dead weight, to the ground.  Scotty withdrew, started
to move back on his knees, and belatedly remembered to remove the fake nose
from his ass.  He stripped off the condom and flung it away in the
darkness.  I wondered if one of the football teams would find it tomorrow
during practice, and for the third time that night, I felt like laughing.

Scotty, meanwhile, was feeling my abdomen.  "Oh, baby," he said as he found
no evidence of my orgasm, "you didn't come, did you?  Not to worry; I'll
fix that."

He started rubbing my prick, trying to get me up again.  My ass had
clenched a few times after he pulled out, and my dick twitched as those
muscles contracted.  I began swelling in his hand.  He streamed some lube
onto my rod and spread it around.  My shaft glistened faintly in the
moonlight, and the pain in my ass was forgotten.

His task accomplished, Scotty straddled me and sat down on my cock.  I had
expected a handjob, but damn if Scotty wasn't still raring to go!  He
adjusted his toga around us and pulled my hand under it, to his crotch.  He
was still hard, ready for a third orgasm.

I was hoping for a long, slow ride, but Scotty wasn't having any of that.
I grabbed his hips to slow his bouncing, but he pulled my hands away and
stuffed the lubricant into one of my hands.

Even when he was topping me other times, I still had some control.  This
time, Scotty was completely in charge.  The discomfort in my mind, however,
went the same way as the throbbing ache of my asshole.  I slicked up
Scotty's cock as he wanted, and he went to town, bucking and writhing and
twisting as he rode my shaft and I jerked him off.

Scotty told me afterwards that, when the toga rubbed against his glans, the
sensation was almost unbearable.  I guess that accounts for him panting so
much, panting that turned into a strangled cry as he came.

His cockhead belched out into the confines of the toga what probably was a
very small load, it being his third and all.  Actually, "dribbled" would
probably be a better word, despite the strong pulses I felt.  My mind,
distracted by my own orgasm, filed away for later the feeling of his
erupting rod, harder than I've ever felt it before, red hot, and moving
with a life of its own.

In the meantime, I was more interested in what was going on between my
thighs.  Despite having been reluctant to participate before, I was now a
willing accomplice to our first sex game, which I hoped would be followed
by many more.  My balls burned as they sent ammunition to the cannon up my
boyfriend's ass, firing salvo after salvo inside him.  The shaft itself,
saturated with blood, pressed against the walls of Scotty's rectum, which
was clenched around it, compressing my cock as fiercely as I expanded
inside him.  Heightening my climax but not fully registering were the
sounds of the lube on our boners and the last smack of skin as he sat on my
pelvis, accepting me completely inside him.

Scotty collapsed full-length atop me.  I removed my hand from his
(finally!) softening dick, extricated it from the sheet twisted around him,
and hugged him even tighter to me as we cooled down, panting in each
other's ears.  My limp member slid out of his anus, and Scotty shivered
against me, I guess from an orgasmic aftershock.  Vaguely, I hoped that the
lube I was spreading as I caressed his bare shoulder blade and upper back
wouldn't be visible when he got home.

We were going to be home later than expected, but I figured our parents
wouldn't mind.  We dressed as neatly as we could and set off for home.  I
smiled as Scotty gave the costume nose a final kiss before slipping it into
my coat pocket.  We were walking kind of funny, and I was sure our faces
would still be flushed when we got home.  We worked up the story that we
danced so much we were hot, sweaty, and sore.  My parents bought it, and
Scotty told me his did, too.

I had to get up for school the next morning, so I hurried through a shower
before bed.  I slept very well that night after our exhausting sex bout.
My asshole throbbed tenderly as I tried to find a comfortable position.  I
thought of Scotty, who was probably a puddle of bliss on his bed, as I
drifted off to sleep.

-- THE END --

=====

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

1) I appreciate critiques of my work.  Please send your comments to
CapnChlorophyll@netscape.net.  If you didn't like it, why did you read this
far?

2) Permission to post this story and affilated notes has been granted to
the moderators of the Nifty archive, the ASSGM newsgroup, and ASSGM's
affiliated archive site.  Readers may download this story to their hard
drive, a floppy disk, or a single paper copy for their own enjoyment.
Other uses of this work must be approved by the author.

COPYRIGHT:  October 29, 2001

--
***********************************
* My name is Big Jimmy Fruithead, *
* and I control the horticulture  *
* in this town.  If'n you're      *
* a-planting any fruit trees in   *
* these here parts, you have to   *
* deal with me!                   *
*    -- Pinky and the Brain --    *
***********************************
*       Captain Chlorophyll       *
*   CapnChlorophyll@netscape.net  *
***********************************