Date: Tue, 16 Nov 2004 19:55:19 +0000
From: Moore
Subject: When The Time Is Right - Part 4

WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT
BY:  MOORE

PART 4

Chapter 15

The school doors opened at eight.  I was there at seven looking for
a way inside.  I went around back and snuck in through an open
window.  If I got caught I'd be in trouble, but no worse than the
trouble I was already in.  I didn't really expect to find my posing
strap and naked pictures as I made my way through the silent
hallways to the locker room. I wasn't disappointed, I didn't.

I looked all over, in every open locker, underneath and on top.  I
found a pair of old sneakers and a couple of jock straps, a torn
picture of Marilyn Monroe and a book report on the Grapes of Wrath
from 1959, but not what I was looking for.  I was close to tears
when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"School's not open yet, sonny.  You shouldn't be in here." Max, the
custodian, a nice old guy.

"I was looking for some things I left here yesterday.  Very very
important things."

"You boys are always losing things. I'm always finding stuff when
sweeping up each day. What'd you lose? Your homework?

"No, not my homework, a red...never mind."  What could I tell him?
That I was looking for a red posing strap with COCKSUCKER printed on
the pouch?  And potentially humiliating photographs that proved I
was a fag? "Thanks anyway, Max."

Where could I go?  What could I do?  Far away from here was first.
I felt like I was suffocating. If Mitch, if anybody had my stuff I
was dead meat.  The whole school was sure to find out, the word
would spread like wildfire among the students.  "Did you hear the
latest?  Steven Ryan's a homo, he's a fag."  Maybe the word was out
already.

I raced out of the locker room, down the hallway and out a side door
which led to the school yard and freedom.  The bright June sun
blinded me for a moment and I tripped over a ball.  I skinned my
knees on the pavement and looked up, dazed, as a hand reach out to
help me up.

"Hey, Ryan, you okay."

Holy shit, Mitch!  The last person in the world I wanted to see.

"You're bleeding.  Let me help you to the nurse."

"No, no.  It's okay.  I'll be okay," I protested even though my
bloody knees were throbbing.

"Hey, Mitch," came a shout from the basketball court.  "Whatdya
doing?  We're in the middle of a game."

"Play without me,"  Mitch called back as he palmed the basketball I
had tripped over and tossed it towards the court. "I gotta take care
of Steven."

Put your arm around my shoulder," Mitch said to me when he saw my
legs trembling under my weight. "I'll walk you to the nurse."

He didn't say a word, not one word about yesterday as we made our
way slowly into the building. I wasn't going to bring it up, or ask
if he had my stuff.  I sat down outside the nurse's office, glad to
take the weight off my knees, and thanked him for his help.

He smiled down at me and said, "Hey, what are friends for? You take
care of me, Ryan, I'll take care of you."  Then he leaned down and
whispered in my ear.  "And Ryan, I know you're going to take very
special care of me."

I was still shaken, in your dreams, Mitch, stuck in my throat, when
the nurse called me in to tend to my knees. Turned out it was only
bad scrapes that she disinfected and covered with bandages. She kept
me there through first period because I was flushed and sweating,
then sent me to my next class with instructions to stay off my knees
and to keep them covered for a day or two.  I mumbled a thank you
and joined the crowd of kids in the hallway hurrying to class.

I was a complete wreck all morning, worrying that every whispered
conversation or note passed when the teacher's back was turned,
every guy's laugh or girl's giggle...was about me.  I feared that
the word was getting around, passed from student to student. "Did
you hear the news? Steven Ryan's a homo...pass it on. Steven Ryan's
a fag.  I heard that he sucks dick."

Maybe I was imagining things, but every head seemed to turn my way
when I walked into the lunchroom.  Mark was at our usual table. He
was staring at me too.

"What happened to your knees?"  He said when I sat down.  The whole
school's talking about you.  Rumor has it that you were in a fight,
the assholes in the park beat you up.  Is it true?"

The weight of the world lifted off my shoulders. "Tripped over a
basketball in the school yard this morning," I said with a sigh of
relief.  "Nobody beat me up."

Was it possible that nobody had found my stuff in the locker room?
Could I get so lucky?  Maybe Max had swept it away with all the
other garbage.  Maybe I had nothing to worry about after all...
except Mitch.  I looked over to the table where Mitch was sitting
with his friends and felt an unexpected stirring in my shorts.

"Your mother called my house this morning."

I looked at Mark for a moment, "She did?  Why?" Then back to Mitch.

"To talk to my father.  See how he was feeling.  She's going to
visit him this afternoon. And get this, Steven, she's making soup
for him. Chicken soup.  You know what that means?"

"Nooo," I said, more interested in watching Mitch scratch his nuts
under the table.

"It means that she wont be home this afternoon.  It means that a
couple of cocksuckers got a place to go."

"Sounds good to me," I said tearing my eyes away from Mitch.

"I brought the camera," Mark said with a laugh. "The way you kept
looking in the mirror yesterday? When you were blowing me? I was
doing it too.  I thought you might like a picture with my dick in
your mouth. A souvenir."

"Yeah, I would,"  I said sheepishly.  "Is that sick or what?  It's
just so...so hot, such a turn on, watching myself..." The bell rang
in the middle of my explanation..."suck cock." I finished to an
empty table.  Mark had rushed off to class.

~~~~

"Where's my jock strap? I can't find my jock strap. Hey, Steven,
have you seen my jock?"

Because of my knees, Mr. Vertig had excused me from participating in
the day's activities, but not from changing and joining the class on
the field.  Mitch's question, innocently asked, made me wary.  "No,"
I said without turning to face him.  Just being in the locker room
with him was putting stress on my Fruits. I had a boner.

"Damn.  They ought to make these things in colors so they'd stand
out from the rest of this gym shit."

"Colors, Mitch?"

"Yeah, Stuart, colors. Green, blue, black...red.  It'd be neat.
Whatdya think, Steven?" He said with a laugh. "Would you wear a red
jock strap?"

Another subtle barb about yesterday and no way to know if he had my
stuff. Stuart Kaminsky, Mitch's best friend and basketball teammate,
let out a whoop which covered up my silence. "A red jock strap!" He
shouted.  "Who'd wear a red jock strap?"

"We know who, don't we, Steven?" Mitch whispered in my ear while the
other boys were busy watching Stuart. "A fag would wear a red jock
strap."

I stayed by myself out on the field waiting for Mr. Vertig to start
the class. He motioned me over to where he and Mitch were standing.

"It's either in my office or I dropped it somewhere along the way,"
he was sayong to Mitch.  "Here's the key to the field side door."

"Vertig's whistle,"  Mitch said when I asked what we were looking
for.  "Let's check his office first."

Vertig's whistle was on top of his desk.  I picked it up and fumbled
it when I heard the lock snap into place behind me.  "How are your
knees, Steven?"

I whirled around.  Mitch was standing by the door, his gym shorts
and shirt on the floor next to him.  "Mitch, I..."

"Save it.  We don't have much time.  Sit over there."

When I didn't move right away he said, "Did you ever make a Xerox
copy of a photograph?  Not as good as the original of course, but
good enough."

"You have my..."

"I couldn't leave it all there for somebody else to find. I did you
a favor, cocksucker. You were so busy jerking off that you'd never
remember. The whole school would know what you are, instead of just
me, oh, and Levine.  We can keep it that way or...it's up to you,
faggot."

Forgetting my injury, I went down to my knees and winced in pain.
Mitch helped me up like he had this morning and sat me down in the
chair in front of Mr. Vertig's desk.  A beautifully framed picture
of Mrs. Vertig and her three children seemed to be staring at me...
an audience, witnesses to what I was about to do.

Mitch wasted no time. He peeled down his jock and stepped forward
into my face.  "What are you waiting for, fag?  Suck my dick!"

I was waiting for my heart to stop racing, holding back to avoid the
appearance of being too eager.  I knew I was going to do it. Even
without the threat of being exposed as a homosexual I was going down
on Mitch. The smell of his crotch, his balls, an inch from my nose
was irresistible. Staring at his erection I felt an inner glow, a
sense of well being a person gets when you know you're doing
something right. A feeling that while it lasts defines who you are
and what you are.

"Please, Mitch," I said, slowly bringing the head of his cock closer
to my lips as if I didn't want to do this.

I really wanted to bury my face in his crotch; smell him, lick him,
take his hairy balls in my mouth. I wanted to kiss the tip of his
cock then run my tongue up and down the shaft. I wanted to make his
precum flow, taste it and rub it all over my face. I wanted to feel
his dick pass between my lips, to feel his warm semen ejaculating
into my mouth. I wanted to be Mitch's fag, his faggot cocksucker. I
wanted his dick in my mouth more than I wanted to breathe, but I
didn't want him to think I wanted it.

No doubt, this was the defining moment of my fifteen years on god's
green earth.  I knew exactly who I was, what I was and what I
wanted.

"Please Mitch," I sighed, unable to resist the long dormant forces
that now controlled my being, and took him into my mouth.

All too quickly the blow job was over.  I had Mitch's cum in my
mouth, a hardon in my shorts and Mr. Vertig's whistle in my hand as
we walked back to the field.  Mitch rejoined the class while I sat
on the sidelines and watched my classmates practice the events for
field day.  Which ones would you suck, I thought to myself. I had
six boys picked out when Mr. Vertig blew his whistle signaling the
end of class.

Chapter 16

The two weeks before graduation flew by what with final exams,
finding a date for the prom and sex.  I aced my exams, made a date
with Kathy Conners, got together several times with Mark for mutual
blow jobs and waited anxiously for Mitch to want me, or rather my
cocksucker mouth again. Four days after the blow job in Mr. Vertig's
office Mitch came over to me while we were changing for gym.

"My house at four," he said quietly. "And don't be late."

I was sitting on his front steps when he came down the block with
Stuart Kaminsky.  The two of them were tossing a basketball back and
forth.  I don't like Stuart much. He's mean and spiteful, and I
especially hate the way he puts people down; like he's got to prove
that he's better than anyone else. Mitch isn't at all like that so
it's surprising that they're friends. Stuart was laughing as he
crossed the street to where his mother was waiting in her car.

"C'mon, Mitch, what's Steven really doing here?" He called out from
the window as the car sped away.

Mitch turned to me and said with a laugh. "I told Stuart you were
here to suck my cock.  Don't think he believed me though. Let's go
inside."

Mitch's bedroom was on the third floor of his rambling old house,
the late June sun was streaming through the windows. I felt a drop
of perspiration trickle down my face as I pretended to examine the
trophies and pennants and posters which decorated the overheated
space, all the while wondering, worrying, if he had really told
Stuart my secret.

"I think this belongs to you," he said behind my back.  "Got your
name on it."

The red posing strap came sailing over my head, landing on his desk
cocksucker side up. I picked it up and turned around to face Mitch
who was laying back on his bed.  "My mom comes home at six. What
time do you have to be home, cocksucker?"

Despite the heat, I shivered in anticipation.  "Five thirty."

"Good," Mitch said, sliding off his pants and boxer shorts and
spreading his legs wide. "Plenty of time for a nice slow blow job.
I haven't jerked off for a couple of days so I got a big load of cum
for your fag mouth."

I quickly crawled between his legs and breathed in his warm scent.
A fragrant mix of soap, powder and a hint of musky sweat filled my
nose.  I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and paused,
wondering again if he had really told Stuart that I was a fag.  I
was about to ask when a tiny drop of precum caught my attention. I
licked at it with the tip of my tongue and gently squeezed the shaft
for more of the tasty stuff. Two more drops of shiny precum  on my
tongue and I forgot all about Stuart.

Mitch got off twice in my mouth that afternoon. Lots of thick,
creamy sperm that I eagerly swallowed and totally enjoyed. All
pretense was gone. We both knew the truth which was as plain as the
cum on my chin and the throbbing erection between my legs.

I was a faggot, a cum loving cocksucking faggot who was crazy for
his dick. In between blow jobs I licked Mitch's hairy balls, sucked
them, until his crotch and my face were sloppy with saliva and
sweat.  I took a few inches of his wonderful, meaty dick in my mouth
and held it in me while I played with his nuts until he grew hard
for the third time.

"It's almost five thirty," he told me when I began to bob my head on
his new erection, hungry for another load of cum. "You better go."

"One more load, Mitch, please," I begged when he pushed me away and
got off the bed.  "Let me suck you off once more before I go.
Please."  I scrambled to my knees between his legs, captured the
head of his dick in my mouth and looked up hopefully. Mitch laughed
so hard that tears came to his eyes.

"You're unfucking real, Ryan, a total queer.  The way you go for
dick, you should've been a girl. You'd be the most popular girl in
school. Guys'd be lined up for a shot at your mouth if you were a
girl."

He was wrong I thought as I left Mitch's house and made my way home.
Guys could still line up for a turn in my mouth.  So what if I was
a boy?  I was a faggot and according to Mark, and he'd know with the
years of experience he's had, faggots like us were far better at
cocksucking than girls.  One quick blow job in the locker room and
Mitch had come back for more of the same in my fag mouth.  The boys
would line up alright and after one blow job, after cumming once in
my fag mouth, they'd be back again and again.

A party in my cocksucker mouth was how Mark had put it the other
day. I had brushed off his comment, but he was right. I was a fag
and if a group of boys wanted to get off in my mouth, have a party
in my cocksucker mouth, I'd be happy to service all of them.

I was surprised to see Mark sitting on the front steps when I got to
my house. "Is everything okay?" I asked.  We hadn't gotten a letter
from Terrence in over a week and mom was concerned that something
was wrong.

"Did you forget?  My dad's taking us all to dinner to celebrate our
graduation on Monday."

"Oops.  I forgot.  I'll hurry and get ready."

"You got time. They're inside talking and having cocktails. Hey, I
saw you running out of the building after school. Where'd you rush
off to?"

I sat down next to Mark and decided it was time to tell him the
truth. "Mitch Greer's house," I said slowly, "He wanted to see me."

Suddenly I was afraid that Mark would be upset or angry. It's not
like we were married, I wasn't the only boy he'd had sex with, but
I was worried all the same.  I looked away, up the block where a
group of young kids were playing stickball in the street.

Mark inched closer so that our legs were touching.  I froze when he
put his lips to my ear and whispered, "Does Mitch have a big dick?"

The truth, I reminded myself, fighting off the urge to lie and say
how would I know. "Yeah, its big," I said, the heat rising to my
face.

Mark said nothing for a long moment and then, "Did you suck it?"

"Yes."

"Did he cum?"

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"Twice."

"In your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Did you swallow?"

"Yes."

"Did you like it?"

"Oh, Mark, I'm sorry.  Please don't be mad."

"Mad?  I'm not mad, Steven...I'm jealous.  Mitch Greer is a hairy
hunk. I'd get on my knees for him...I'd suck his dick anytime, any
place he'd let me.  Does he cum a lot?"

"Six spurts," I said with a sigh of relief.  "Huge spurts of cum,
right in my mouth.  I almost cho...hey, how did you know?"

"Know what, cocksucker?  That you went down on Mitch Greer? Gave him
head? Let him cum in your mouth?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Mark laughed.  "Because you smell like a used scumbag, Steven. And
you know what else?"

"What?"

"I'll bet you had his hairy nuts in your mouth too...you got a few
curlies stuck in your teeth."

The front door opened before I could say a word.  Mr. Levine,
martini glass in hand, said we had ten minutes before we had to
leave for our dinner reservations. We followed him into the house.

A quick wave to my mother and I raced upstairs to brush the smell of
Mitch's semen from my mouth and pick his pubic hairs out of my
teeth.

Chapter 17

Graduation day dawned bright and full of promise.  I was young and
gay, looking forward to a fun filled summer. I rolled out of bed
tired and smelly, but happy, and followed my morning woody into the
bathroom. A long hot shower took care of the dried sperm balls in my
hair and the grass stains on my knees. Toothpaste took care of the
spermy crude on my tongue and teeth, mouthwash the last of the smell
and taste.  No amount of flossing could dislodge the last of the
pubic hairs in my teeth.  This one was stuck way back between my
molars. I couldn't see the hair, just feel it grazing the side of my
tongue, a reminder of last night's fun. I wondered which one them
had left the little curly behind.  I hoped it was Mitch.

Back in my room I laid out clean socks and a fresh white shirt. My
good navy pants, the ones I'd worn last night, were lying in a heap
on the floor. A little creased, but clean.  Good thing Mitch had me
strip naked or they would have been ruined. I picked them up and a
small white envelope fell out of the pocket, I WON'T BE NEEDING
THESE, WILL I? -- M., was printed across the back in big capital
letters.  He must have slipped it into my pants last night.

No you won't, Mitch, I thought, hiding the sealed envelope in the
dresser drawer where I keep my Fruit of the Looms and the posing
strap he had returned earlier.  Mitch didn't need the strap or the
pictures of me wearing it to get my full cooperation, not after last
night.  I slipped into the strap, Mark and I had agreed to wear them
to the graduation exercises, and stepped in front of the mirror.

COCKSUCKER was only a bit faded, while the strap itself, what little
there was of it, was more pink than red. My Fruits too, a few pair
were sort of light pink instead of white.  I guess I should have
listened to my mother about washing white things and colored things
separately.  No matter, pink underwear was a better color for a gay
boy.

I'd been to heaven last night, fag heaven.  I'd gotten high on cock
and cum and piss.  Yeah, Mitch and his cousin Jeff had pissed on me
last night and watched as I pissed on myself.

~~~~

Last night's prom party in the gym, my date with Kathy Conners had
been a bust. My theory about girls wanting sex as much as boys,
maybe my technique was at fault, hadn't quite worked out the way I
expected.  Kathy slapped me when I put my hand inside her dress and
squeezed her breast.  I said I was sorry, but she called me a beast
and wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the night.  What happened
later though, when the prom was over, made it the most memorable
night of my life.

I wasn't expecting to suck any cock at the prom so it came as a
total surprise when Mitch came over to me after Kathy had left in a
huff with two of her girlfriends.  He didn't exactly say that he
wanted a blow job, but why else would he call me his fag and tell me
to wait for him on the field by Mr. Vertig's office.

I kept looking at my watch, pacing nervously in the moonlight,
growing more frustrated with each passing minute.  From time to time
I heard the sounds of people, disembodied voices drifting across the
field, carried by the late June breeze. After waiting for more than
an hour, I figured he had changed his mind and he wasn't going to
show up for the blow job I was anxious to give him.

My spirits soared, along with my dick, when a moment later I saw
Mitch coming towards me from across the field...and crashed when I
saw that he wasn't alone.  Stuart Kaminsky and someone else, a tall
boy I didn't recognize, were with him.

Maybe he wasn't coming for a blow job after all.  Yeah sure, and
maybe the pope was jewish. I was his fag and he'd want head alright,
but why were the two other boys with him?  It didn't make sense
unless...Oh my god, I said to myself, horrified, as the three of
them approached. Mitch was going to let them watch!  Two boys were
going to watch me suck his dick.  And when Mitch was done with me,
they'd want blow jobs too, both of them. Two more dicks in my mouth,
two more loads of cum; two more boys who'd know I was a homosexual,
a fag, a cocksucker...and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

"My cousin Jeff Greer," Mitch said by way of introduction. "He's
here for the party...Stuart too."

Stuart giggled knowingly when I asked a question that I pretty much
knew the answer to. "What party?  Where?"

Mitch fished a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to Mr.
Vertig's office.  "In here, Steven," Mitch said casually over his
shoulder as he followed the others into the dark office. He turned
back to me and whispered, "In your mouth, cocksucker."

I hesitated on the threshold until Mitch turned on the light and
said, "Aren't you coming to the party?"

Nobody forced me into that office.  I maybe could have walked away
and dealt with Mitch on another day, alone, sucked him off...kissed
his ass if he wanted me to, pleaded with him, begged him to keep my
homosexuality a secret. In all likelihood, though, from the grin on
Stuart's face and the way his cousin Jeff was rubbing his crotch, it
was too late for that.  Mitch had told them, I was sure of it.

They already knew what I was and why I was here. I shuddered to
think how many others he had told, how many of the boys at school
knew I was a fag.

Shutting the door behind me, I went to the center of Mr. Vertig's
office. I glanced quickly at Jeff and Stuart and sank to my knees in
front of Mitch. "Okay," I said, trembling slightly with fear and
excitement, "Let's party."

Mitch unzipped and hauled out his still soft penis.  Before I could
wrap my wet lips fully around the big head, suck him to erection,
Stuart called out, "Holy shit, he is a queer!  Just like you said,
Mitch.  Outrageous!  Steven Ryan, a homo, a faggot cocksucker.  Hey,
I know, make him take off all his clothes. Whatdya say, huh? It'll
be fun to see him naked, uh, I mean, see if he bones up with a prick
in his faggot cocksucker mouth."

"It's okay by me if the cocksucker's naked," Jeff volunteered. "The
fag in my dorm at college always strips down before he starts a suck
session.  I suppose it's a fag thing, but he likes to be naked when
he sucks cock.  He likes to jerk off, cum with a dick in his mouth
too."

Mitch took a step back and told me to strip. I did so, reluctantly,
still self-conscious over the small size of my prick and my blond,
almost non-existent, pubic hair. Almost sixteen and cursed with the
penis of a twelve year old boy. The baby dick from boy scout camp
was still with me, as was the memory of those weeks in hell. The
forced nudity at boy scout camp had left me cautious about taking
off my clothes in front of strangers, fearful of being stranded
someplace naked. Stuart was the only one to react when I slid off my
Fruits, exposing myself to their scrutiny.

"Lookit, the fag's got a hardon already," he said, pointing to my
five inch boner.  "If you call that little thing a hardon.  Shit, my
kid brother's only ten and he's got a bigger prick."

"You queer or something, Stuart?  Who cares about the size of his
prick?  How big is his mouth?  Can he swallow all the jizz without
making a mess?  How good does Steven suck dick?  That's what's
important."  Jeff opened his pants and let them fall to his feet.
"Can he handle eight inches?"

"Steven will take whatever you got, cuz.  Go for it."

No way could I take an eight inch cock in my mouth, and Mitch knew
it.  Best I could do was three inches before my gag reflex kicked in
and I had to back off or choke to death.

"We'll see about that," Jeff said, waving his very ample penis in my
direction.

Once more I went to my knees, naked this time, in front of Jeff. I
parted my quivering lips to receive his stiffening cock.  He pushed
in slowly until the flared pulsing head was through my lips,
pressing down firmly on my tongue, and then withdrew, repeating the
insertion several times more; each time feeding a little more of his
fat dick deeper into my wet hungry mouth.

Wow! Jeff really knew how to use a cocksucker to stretch out,
maximize the pleasure of a blow job.

I can't even begin to describe the effect his hard meaty cock
sliding between my lips, the head grazing the roof of my mouth, the
taste of his precum, was having on me.

"He's very good," Jeff said, patting my head like a puppy while I
licked his shaft, swirled my tongue around the silky smooth head of
his dick and played with his nuts.  "Where did you find him?"

"In the locker room at school last month, sucking another boy's dick
during lunch.  All the years we've been in school together and I
never suspected he was queer.  Man, you just never know who'll turn
out to be a fag."

"Who was he sucking?"  Stuart wanted to know.

"Mark Levine, if you can believe it."

Mitch and Stuart traded jokes about Mark while Jeff turned his
attention back to me. "How ya doing down there, Steven? I guess you
like my big dick stuffed in your fag mouth."

Stuffed was right.  I had less than half of his prick in my mouth;
if it was any fatter my lips were going to crack, breathing was
becoming a problem, but I wanted more. Remembering something I had
read in one of Mark's porno mags, I put both hands behind my back,
a sign of submission and trust, and looked up into Jeff's sparkling
green eyes.

Jeff looked down at me and chuckled, "You want it all, don't you?"

Yes! I wanted to shout.  More dick!  Please, more dick!  Ram it down
my throat, please!

"I can see it in your eyes, same look the dorm fag gets in his eyes
when we feed him dick at school.  You'd like to swallow my dick,
right? Bury your nose in my pubes?  Feel my nuts snugged up against
your chin?"

I nodded slightly and looked away, ashamed of what I was thinking
and embarrassed that he could so easily read what was going on in my
mind and my mouth. I caught sight of Stuart, mouth agape, eyes wide
open, staring at me in awe.  I could almost see my reflection in his
glassy eyes. To my left, Mitch was watching me suck cock too while
stroking his cock, patiently waiting for his turn. He gave me the
high sign, no doubt pleased with his decision to share me...share my
mouth with his cousin Jeff and Stuart.

"No can do," Jeff said, rocking his hips forward and back in an easy
unhurried motion.  "Much as I'd like to ram my cock down your
throat, use your mouth like a pussy, you'll never be able to take it
all sucking dick from your knees, Steven. Not a big prick like mine
anyway.  The dorm fag can't even do it from his knees and that queer
freshman's had a lot of practice on big college cocks this past
year.

"See, the angle is all wrong from your knees.  You have to line up
your throat and the prick, get'em both going in the same direction.

"Hey Jeff," Mitch interrupted, "You almost done with him?  I'd like
to get off a couple of times in his mouth before the sun comes up."

"Same for me," Stuart piped up.  "I wanna cum in the fag's mouth
too.  And on his face.  Be a kick see'n my jizz all over his face."

I grabbed hold of his hip with one hand, cupped his balls with the
other, to avoid being knocked over when Jeff speeded up the pace of
his measured thrusts into my mouth.  Bobbing my head to meet each
thrust, I felt his nutsack tightening, orgasm building and readied
my mouth for what I hoped would be a huge load of semen.

He came like a geyser.  Forceful spurts of rich warm cream spewed
into my mouth over several incredible minutes. Not a flood of sperm
in quick successive spurts like Mitch does, Mark too, when cumming
in my mouth. Jeff controlled his ejaculation, timed his spurts,
spaced them out, so I was able to really taste his thick sperm: the
spicy, salty, tangy taste, and swallow, before he released the next
spurt into me. Incredible is the only way to describe his orgasm.

"Hey, cuz," Jeff panted, casually wiping his cock on my upturned
face. "You know why dick is like a bag of potato chips to a fag?"

Mitch joined his cousin in front of me.  "No, why?" He gasped as I
pulled his rock hard penis away from his hairy stomach and brought
it to my lips.  Paul Sweet from Boys Town had been so right. One
dick, one load of cum was not enough...not when another beauty was
there to fill the temporary void in my mouth.

"How about you, Stuart?  C'mom, take a guess."

"I don't know."

"Because I can't eat just one," I cried out in frustration, and
crawled after Mitch who had jumped back, startled by my outburst.
Laughter filled the room as he kept walking backwards and I kept
crawling after him.  Their laughter didn't bother me one bit. Well,
maybe a little when it continued on far longer than I thought the
joke was worth.  They wanted blow jobs and I wanted to suck. I
wanted another dick in my mouth.  I don't even like potato chips.

I finally backed Mitch into a corner, but he scooted away before I
could claim my prize. I whirled around, "C'mon, Mitch, stop kidding
around. Stand still and let me suck."

Grinning from ear to ear, he kind of shrugged his shoulders.

"Please," I said, choking back a sob.  "Please let me suck your
cock."

Even Stuart stopped laughing when I said that.  "Did the fag just
say please?"

"Okay Steven, you can suck my cock, but do my balls first."

Mitch has great balls. I love the way they smell and the way the
hair tickles my tongue when I roll them around in my mouth. I had
them both stuffed in my mouth when he called out, "Hey Jeff, your
fag at school suck balls?"

"Balls?  Sure he sucks balls.  Assholes too, cuz."

"You hear that, fag?  Assholes. Maybe, ah shit. Quick, get my dick
in your mouth, Steven. I'm gonna cum any second."

Mitch blasted off in my mouth with his usual six furious squirts of
sperm, three previous blow jobs and I was a pro at taking his cum.
I swallowed his load, gulped it down, then milked his cock and
licked away the tiny beads as they ooze out of the pee slit.  I
wouldn't have thought it possible a few weeks ago, but while I was
licking up the last of it I realized that I was beginning to really
enjoy the unusual taste of semen. I also realized that cocksucking
was hard work. Back to back blow jobs and I was out of breath. My
mouth was tired from all the sucking...my knees hurt too.

"Where are you going, fag?"  Stuart said when I stood up to stretch
my legs.  Get back on your knees. There's another big dick for your
cocksucker mouth."

"Stuart, give me a second to catch my breath, okay?"

"Your second is up, fag. Get back on your knees and suck my dick.
Oh, and don't forget to say please before you put it in your mouth,
cocksucker."

Stuart had an ugly penis.  He was circumcised, but the head was
shaped funny and the shaft, rather than being straight, kind of bent
in the middle.  His crotch didn't smell so good either, sweat and
English Leather don't mix well.  There were pimples on the inside of
his thighs, acne, like he had on his face.  I sucked him off anyway.
Ugly or not it was still a cock. There was a load of sperm waiting
for me to suck out of his lumpy balls.

Once I got him in my mouth, yeah, I said please like he wanted, I
got lost in the pleasure of the blow job. "You like that dick?" He
kept saying over and over.  "Suck it, fag. Suck it all."

"Take it easy, don't choke him to death," Mitch said when Stuart
grabbed my head and tried to force all of his penis into me. I
gagged and sputtered, panic set in, until he backed off and I was
able to breathe again.

"Who gives a shit if he chokes to death," Stuart responded with a
laugh. "He's only a fag, a cocksucking fag."

"Yeah, that's true. Steven's just a fag, but he's my fag...he's my
cocksucker. You know any other fags, anybody else that sucks dick?
Your girl friend, Candy Watters, does she suck your cock?  Ruth
Steinway, Claire Hodges, Lisa Marie Petrone...any of the girls from
school gonna get on her knees and suck cock like Steven?"

Stuart thrust into my mouth a couple of times before answering, "Fat
chance. Candy won't open her mouth to french kiss when we make out
at the movies. Claire let me sort of touch her tit inside her blouse
one time when we were alone at her house, man that was so hot. I
opened my fly, asked her to rub my boner a little...she called me a
pig and told me to get out. Jerked off twice when I got home."

"See what I mean, Stuart? You wanna jerk off all summer or...get
sucked off every day by our fag friend Steven?  We can even take him
with us to Washington Baths in case we get horny watching all the
girls in bikinis."

"Hmmmm.  A blow job every day...Hey, why'd you stop, fag?"

I'd stopped sucking Stuart to consider what Mitch had said.  Mark
and I had plans to go to Times Square at least twice a week, Sebbe's
place was due to open on the fourth of July. And there were places
in Greenwich Village that Mark wanted to show me, gay guys he wanted
me to meet...Lorraine had invited us to a party at her apartment on
Bleeker Street.  How could I suck off Mitch every day, Stuart too?

Get up early, I figured, blow them both before we took the subway to
Manhattan.  Mark would go nuts from the smell of cum on my breath.
Washington Baths, the beach club near Coney Island. I'd been there
once with my family years ago.  Great big pool and the beach and
rows of little cabanas to change your clothes.  Too expensive, I
remember dad saying, when I asked if we could join.

"Get back on my dick, cocksucker. Suck me fag!"  Stuart demanded.
"Weekends too, Mitch?"

"Don't see why not.

"Suck me fag," Stuart said more kindly than before. "Don't choke on
my cock though, we got a long summer in front of us."

Stuart didn't spurt like Jeff or Mitch, rather his load of sperm
sort of oozed into my mouth; really thick stuff and lots of it.
There was no need to swallow such a load quickly so I held it in my
mouth after Stuart had gone soft and gave some thought to erection.

I'd been too embarrassed to touch myself while blowing them; what
would they think of me, jerking off...cumming, with a dick in my
mouth?  But the ache in my testicles was getting worse. I couldn't
wait much longer. I had to masturbate now with Stuart's sperm fresh
in my mouth.

The space behind Mr. Vertig's desk offered the only private spot in
the room. I crawled there quietly and flipped over onto my back.
Stuart's chatter masked the sound of the deep sigh that escaped from
my cum slick mouth when I grasped my painfully erect prick.

"Oh man that was outrageous. What a blow job.  Steven Ryan a queer,
a cocksucking cum swallowing faggot.  Man, I still can't believe it.
The guys at school won't believe us Mitch, when we tell..."

"I wouldn't tell if I were you."

"Why not, Jeff?"

"Yeah, Jeff, why shouldn't we tell all the guys at school that
Steven's a fag?"

I felt sick to my stomach, and not from the three loads of cum in my
belly.

"Economics 1.1, supply and demand.  Listen up you two and learn
something from an experienced college man.  First off, how many
cocksuckers do you know? Boy or girl, doesn't matter. One, right?
One faggot to supply the demand for blow jobs. Second. How many boys
in your school?  Just the ninth graders, the graduating class. About
a hundred?"

"One hundred and seven boys," Mitch said.

"And one fag," Stuart added with a laugh.

"Third.  What is the demand?  In other words, how many of the
hundred and seven do you think would like a blow job?"

"All of them," Mitch and Stuart shouted out with one voice. "That's
all we talk about when we're not talking about sports or cars,"
Mitch continued. "Sex and making out, hand jobs, blow jobs and
getting laid."

"So the demand for blow jobs is high and the supply of cocksuckers
is low. One cocksucker to be exact. One fag cocksucker to service
one hundred and seven horny teenage boys."

Not one cocksucker, two cocksuckers, if you counted Mark Levine, I
almost said without thinking. Thanks to me though, nobody knew that
Mark was one. Thanks to Mitch and Stuart, everybody was going to
know, oh god, everybody was going to know that I was a fag.  How was
I going to deal with that and what's more, how was I going to suck
off one hundred and seven boys?

"And that's just for starters.  Once the word gets out, and make no
mistake about it, the word will get out, Steven's going to feel
like, uh, like he was born on his knees with a dick in his mouth.
Guys'll be lined up for blow jobs."

"How's he gonna suck off one hundred and seven boys?  It'll take
days...a whole week maybe. Shit, I found him.  Steven's my fag. I'm
not waiting a week between blow jobs from my own cocksucker."

"That's my point exactly, cuz.  Don't tell, keep the cocksucker for
yourself. How many people already know that Steven is a fag?"

"You and me and Stuart, just the three of us as far as I know.  Oh,
and Mark Levine, the boy he was sucking when I found him in the
locker room. I haven't told anyone else."

"Keep it that way through the summer.  Things'll change once you
start high school in September."

Listen to your cousin, Mitch, I prayed silently.

"What'll change?  We won't want blow jobs in high school?"

"That's not what I mean, Stuart.  Remember supply and demand?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there'll be more supply in high school to meet the demand."

"You're kidding, right? More boys are gonna become cocksuckers? You
hear that, Mitch? Some boys, maybe boys we know, are gonna turn into
faggots like Steven."

"No, no, no. Not boys, Stuart, girls.  You won't need to use faggots
like Steven to suck your dick anymore because the girls will be
ready for sex. The ugly girls, the girls nobody will go out with.
The girls so desperate for a guy's attention...they'll be ready for
sex when they get to high school.  Don't expect to score with the
pretty girls though.  Like the catholics, they won't give up their
panties until senior year. Some not 'til college."

If Jeff was right then my theory about girls and sex was right. My
mistake was being a few months early and Kathy Conners was too
pretty and very catholic.  I sure hoped he was wrong about high
school boys though. Other than Mark, who was I going to suck if
Mitch and Stuart no longer needed me for blow jobs?  Who'd cum in my
mouth?  Just when I was beginning to really enjoy the taste of sperm
too.

"Pick out an ugly one the very first day of school. Be nice to her,
make her feel pretty and before long she will do anything you want.
Trust me on this, guys, a little kindness and you'll have that ugly
girl eating out of your hand."

"It's not my hand I'll want her eating out of," Mitch said with a
laugh.

"Play your cards right with an ugly girl, Mitch, and your cock will
be very well taken care of. Maybe not right away, and you may be
disappointed the first time she goes down on you. Fag boys, like
your cocksucker Steven, suck dick better than girls. But be patient
because she will get better with all the practice you'll be giving
her.  And anyway, your main objective isn't her mouth...it's her
pussy.  Ugly girls got tits and cunts same as pretty girls.  Firm
tits with pretty pink nipples that get hard, drives them crazy, when
you suck the nipples."

Stuart, closest to the desk, mumbled something about boys having
tits too.

"And just like pretty girls, ugly girls have smooth bodies to rub
against and soft hands to stroke your cock and tickle your balls,
and legs that are going to spread wide open for the first guy who
treats her nice.  Do what I'm telling you when school starts after
Labor Day and she'll be on her back giving you her cherry before
Thanksgiving."

"Where's Steven?  All this talk is giving me a hardon.  Anybody else
up for another blow job from our favorite cocksucker?"

I crawled out slowly from behind the desk to find the three of them
sporting erections. "Who's first?" I said eagerly, unable to keep
the excitement out of my voice...a dick out of my mouth.

Jeff whispered something to Stuart and Mitch which made them both
smile and nod their heads. One dick in my mouth and one in each
hand. Not the perfect solution, but it kept them hard and happy, and
it sure kept the precum flowing. They switched off so much that I
gave up trying to keep track of whose dick was where and just
concentrated on sucking whosever turn it was in my mouth.  My jaw
was still sore from the first round of blow jobs, but Stuart's cum
was long gone from my mouth...I wanted more.

"You do this a lot with your fag at college, Jeff?"  Mitch wanted to
know.  "It's kind of fun taking turns in his mouth. He must be
getting tired though, he's not sucking as good as before."

"Not much. There's twelve of us on the floor and the fag can't
handle more than three dicks, well, four actually, but I think I'll
save that for another time. There's lots of other fun stuff we do
with our fag. Once in a while, just for laughs, we lock him out his
room naked or have him jog around the track in his jock. There's no
women on campus so it's no big deal. When we're really bored, like
in the winter when the weather's bad and we can't drive over to the
women's college, we put him together with the other campus queer,
watch the two of them go at each other, and take bets on which fag
will cum first.  Oh, and each semester, after finals, we do
something special just for him. It's a sacrifice for us, but it's
something the cocksucker really likes."

"What's that, Jeff?"

"A bunch of us assemble by the field house with the cocksucker, we
do it outside because it gets kind of messy, and then, one at a
time, we jerk off into the fag's mouth.  We do all the work and the
fag gets all the reward...about a dozen loads of cum."

The dick in my mouth, Stuart's dick as it turned out, swelled like
he was going to cum. "Let's do that," he said, pulling out with a
pop.  "Let's all jerk off into Steven's mouth."

~~~~

The soft grass was a welcome relief for my knees after the hard
floor of Mr. Vertig's office.  It was pitch black outside, the full
moon hidden for the moment behind a passing cloud. Mitch left the
office door open a crack so they could see what they were doing.  A
thin shaft of light illuminated my face and the three erections less
than a foot away. I felt somewhat foolish at first, kneeling in the
grass with my mouth hanging open, waiting for them to jerk off and
cum in my mouth. Foolish or not I had goose bumps. My lips were
quivering, my whole body was trembling with excitement at this new
experience.

Then, as they began to masturbate in front of me I began to feel odd
and my mind began to wander. I was a child again, waking up before
dawn on Christmas mornings past, my two brothers asleep in their
beds next to mine. My parents in their room down the hall. I felt
safe and protected and at peace. I saw myself as a child, kneeling
by the tree in my pajamas on Christmas mornings past, eyes wide,
waiting impatiently, eager to open my gifts. A child, bursting with
giddy anticipation.

"Move in close when you're ready," Jeff advised.  "Like an inch away
or less. Shoot between his lips, aim for the back of his tongue. The
idea is to fill the fag's mouth with...ahhhhhh, cuuummm."

Each spurt of warm sperm was like a mini explosion.  Wherever it
landed, tongue, lips, nose, cheek, was like the pinprick of a sharp
needle. The indescribable rush that followed, the inner warmth that
began in and around my mouth, spread slowly throughout my body...
invaded my soul.

I felt like my mind was expanding its reach, spaced out, yet mellow
and feeling like I didn't have a care in the world.  Reality was
fantasy and fantasy...there was no fantasy, everything was real,
anything was possible.  I could walk on water and soar like a bird
...see things nobody else could see.

"Jesus Christ..."

Heaven, I thought, an angel was calling out for Jesus.

"...what a mess.  You creamed all over his face."

Not one, two...no, three angels.  Three beautiful angels with halos
of moonlight, so close I could touch them. And cherubs, naked
cherubs dancing before my eyes under a million stars, anointing my
head with holy oil, so fragrant, so sweet...

"Your aim's a little off too, Mitch. That's why we do this outside."

And unicorns, playfully poking and prodding my face, teasing my lips
and tongue with their velvety, dew covered horns...

"Nice way to clean the scum off your dick and underneath your balls,
huh?"

And Jesus himself, the son of god, towering above my supplicant
form. Proud, yet humble too in all his naked glory. The garland of
wild flowers adorning his magnificent phallus beckoned. I rejoiced
in this field and below, savoring the aroma and taste of his
essence. The father and the holy ghost, bare too of all earthly
cover, and awesome in their presence. Graciously offering of
themselves to my worship. Unselfishly drawing forth scant drops of
silken seed from their loins.

"And this is how we clean off the fag."

My worship complete, I lay back, deep in contemplation, and shut my
eyes as Jesus' golden tears rained down upon me, washing away my
sins.  I was on a journey, a beautiful trip I hoped and prayed would
never end.  Soaring higher and higher, my penis growing to enormous
length in my hand as I sought, and finally achieved salvation.

It may have been an hour or a minute, but when I cracked open my
eyes Jesus was gone. The angels and unicorns and cherubs...gone. In
their place, Mitch, standing over me, Stuart and Jeff at his side.

"You okay, Steven?  You sort of passed out for a minute."

I just lay there in the wet grass, dazed and confused. The smell of
semen and urine brought me back down to earth.  "What happened," I
managed to say after swallowing the lump in my throat.

"What do you remember?"

I swallowed again and smiled as the taste of sperm cleared away the
remaining cobwebs.  "I was sucking, no wait, that was before.  You
were, the three of you, jerking off...cumming...in my mouth.  Sperm
was flying and then...then the angels came, and Jesus wept, and...."

They didn't believe me, not a word. They just laughed and continued
to pull on their clothes while I excitedly described the unicorns
and the cherubs and the beauty of heaven.  I was still talking when
Mitch told the others to go on ahead, he'd meet them at Jeff's car.

"Cherubs, Steven?  Naked cherubs with little dicks like in the
pictures at church?"

"I saw them, Mitch.  I really did, naked angels too...in heaven."

Mitch shrugged his shoulders and walked away.  He was halfway across
the field when he turned around and shouted back at me. "They don't
allow fags in heaven, cocksucker."

"Who said that?"  Someone shouted from the direction of the park
across the street from the school.

"Where's the fag?  Another voice answered back.  "I could use a blow
job right about now.  C'mon, Sal, Tony. Let's take a look, see if we
can find us a fag."

The park was dangerous at night, a place to be avoided. Tough guys,
high school dropouts and worse hung out there after dark.  The park
was always littered in the morning with empty beer cans, cigarette
butts and used condoms.  I wasn't about to wait around for Sal and
Tony to come looking for me. It was definitely time to grab my
clothes and scram.

Locked!  The door to Mr. Vertig's office was locked and all my
clothes were inside.  There was no place to run, no place to hide.
Mitch had left me here, in the middle of the field, naked.  Boy
scout camp all over again...and three boys, maybe more, were out
looking for a fag.

"Hey, Steven?"

Holy shit, they even knew my name.  Did they already know I was a
fag too?  A cocksucker?  If they found me out here naked...how many
more dicks were going to party, cum in my mouth tonight?

"Steven?"

"Where the hell is that cocksucker?"

"Where are you, faggot?  We haven't got all night."

The voices, two of them now...getting closer and more impatient
sounding.  These were tough guys, bullies. They beat up on people
for no reason at all.  No telling what they might do to me if I made
them angry. "Over here," I said in a timid voice, scared silly.

Fearing the worst and hoping for the best, I stepped away from the
shadow of the building. "Please don't hurt me," I said, falling to
my knees.  "I'm the fag, the cocksucker. Please don't hurt me.  I'll
suck your cocks, lick your balls...piss on me...I'll do anything you
want."

Laughter was the last thing I expected to hear. Mitch and Jeff the
last people I expected to see when I opened my eyes.

"Here's your clothes, faggot," Jeff said, tossing the bundle at me.
"Stuart wanted to leave you out here, make you walk home through the
streets naked. Get dressed.  Unless you want me and Mitch to piss on
you first."

Relief washed over me like an ocean wave.  I clutched the bundle of
clothes to my bare breast and then put them down again.  "Go ahead,
do it.  Piss on me. I want you to piss on me."

~~~~

The telegram was waiting for us when we got home from graduation
exercises.  In less than a year, seven months to be exact, my father
first and now my brother, a New York City policeman and a soldier in
Viet Nam, both killed in the line of duty.

My mother's faith in god was tested yet again, and yet again held
fast.  She went to early mass every morning, urging me to join her,
but I had better things to do with my time.  Mr. Levine came by
often.  He made her laugh, which was good, and he made her leave the
house, which was even better. No sooner would the car pull away from
the curb before Mark and I had our clothes off and our hard dicks
buried in each others mouths. Mark would light up a joint and we'd
plan our day's activities.  He was smoking a lot of pot and I think
he was popping pills too.

The days and weeks passed by; Terrence was dead and our lives slowly
resumed at least the appearance of normalcy.  My mother found
happiness in the company of Mr. Levine.  As for me, well, the long
hot days and sultry nights of the summer of 1964 melted away the
last vestiges of innocent youth. I looked for happiness with little
regard for the consequences, and found it too; often times naked and
usually with a dick in my mouth.







PART 5

Chapter 18

I'm not sorry about what I did a week after the memorial service for
Terrence.  Watching that innocent little boy walk out of Father
Peter's office with his hair mussed and his fly half open made me
hornier than I was before I got to the church. I was there for a
grief counseling session, against my will, but I had agreed to meet
with Father Peter to make my mother happy, get her off my back.

I was dealing okay with the death of my brother, less well with the
fact that Mitch hadn't called me since the night of the prom, and
not at all well with the daily amount of cock I was getting.  One
cock, one dick to suck was frustrating.  One or two loads from Mark
barely satisfied my newly discovered, almost insatiable craving for
cum.

Mark understood when I told him how I was feeling one night on the
way home from Manhattan.  The subway was stifling, stuck in a dark
tunnel and the lights had gone out barely a minute after leaving the
Bleeker Street station.  There wasn't a breath of air coming through
the open windows.

"How many cocks did you suck this afternoon at Lorraine's place?"
Mark asked.  "Four?  Five?"

We were alone at our end of the subway car, it was dark too, so I
let my hand wander from Mark's knee to his thigh before answering.
"Six," I said. "No wait, eight.  Six cocks in her apartment and two
cocks in the hallway, the colored boys who made the delivery. They
were cute so I followed them out and offered to blow them."

Mark laughed.  "Doing your part for the civil rights movement, huh?

"That's me alright, an equal opportunity cocksucker. What was in the
package anyway?"

"Greenies.  You want one?"

I had sort of promised Terrence to stay away from drugs.  "Not for
me, Mark, and you should cut it out too.  Pot and pills, what's
next, heroin?  I'm worried about you getting addicted to that shit."

"Be cool.  I got it under control.  You're the one that should be
worried."

"About what?"

Mark laughed softly, moving my hand from his thigh to his crotch.
"Eight blow jobs, huh?  All eight cum in your mouth, Steven?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course."  One of the colored boys had pissed in my
mouth too, but I decided to keep that fact to myself.

"Was that the only sperm you ate at Lorraine's?"

The temperature in the car seemed to be rising by the minute. I gave
Mark's cock a playful squeeze and nipped at his earlobe. "How did
you know?"

"Lorraine saw you between fucks, picking them up as each guy tossed
the used rubber on the floor.  She told me what you did when we were
leaving."

"They were just laying there, Mark, filled with sperm and going to
waste.  There was nobody left at the party to suck off, all the guys
were screwing Lorraine, and I wanted more cum. I wonder why the guys
were using rubbers?"

"Did you ever stop to consider that maybe you're the one who's got
a problem?"  Mark said as the lights came back on and the train
began to move.  "Six, no eight blow jobs and...how many scum bags
did you empty into your mouth?"

"Eight."

"Sixteen loads of cum!  Sounds to me like you're addicted to the
stuff."

"You think I'm addicted...addicted to sperm?" I said as the train
jerked its way into the station.  Mark shrugged his shoulders as the
doors opened and the car filled up with people.  His greenie must
have kicked in because we rode the rest of the home in silence. We
didn't even make plans to meet the next day, after my appointment
with Father Peter.

~~~~

Father Peter talked for about twenty minutes on life and death and
god and heaven. I pretended to listen, thinking all the while about
how to seduce him into making a move on me.

"Can I ask you a question, Father?" I asked when he'd finished.
"It's kind of personal, guy stuff I can't ask my mother about."

"Certainly, my son," he said solemnly.  "You can ask me anything."

Looking him right in the eye I stood up and said, "It's about my
penis.  It gets stiff all the time, like right now, and I don't know
what to do.  Let me show you what I mean."

Before he finished saying, oh my god; my shorts and Fruit of the
Looms were in a heap atop my sneakers and my five inch boner was
standing tall.  "See what I mean?"

He nearly tripped getting out of his chair when I reach down as if
to pull up my clothes.

"Wait a moment, son," he said, taking my hands in his own. "Do you,
ah, how often do you masturbate?"

Fortunately, he was fixated on my erection or he might have seen the
smile that crossed my face. "Only once a week, father, I swear it,"
I said with all the sincerity I could muster. "I'm sorry, I know
it's a sin to play with my penis." I pulled my hands free to cover
my face in shame.  "What else can I do?"

Father Peter, hypocrite that he was actually recited a prayer in
Latin and made the sign of the cross, just like in church, before he
got on his knees and kissed the tip of my penis.

"God will provide," he said, extending his arms and taking my boner
all the way into his mouth. He didn't suck right away, just kept his
lips tight around the base, his nose pressed into my sparse pubic
hair and murmured softly.  When he put his hands on my hips and
guided me back and forth, in and out between his lips, sucking me
gently, I understood why the cub scouts and altar boys kept coming
back for more.  Father Peter was a righteous cocksucker.

"Follow in the path of the lord, Steven,"  he said in his Sunday
sermon voice, a drop of my sperm clinging to his chin.  "Kneel and
worship at the holy altar of the almighty and drink of god's
goodness. Follow the teachings of Jesus Christ, do as Jesus did, and
the kingdom of heaven shall embrace your forever."

Father Peter made a blow job sound like a religious experience. A
mouthful of sperm like a sip of sacramental wine. He made Jesus
Christ sound like a homosexual.  I'd been to fag heaven a week ago
and I was ready to return. I got rid of all my clothes and fell to
my knees.  "Teach me."

"You're a fast learner, Steven...and very devoted.  You and I must,
oh my god, do this again, ahhhh, pray together more often."

Father Peter was red faced and sweating heavily as I swabbed around
the inside of his foreskin with the tip of my tongue. His foreskin,
the first one I'd seen up close, had surprised me. I figured out how
it worked though, and the smell when I slid it back, the taste of
the gunk, was awesome. The poor man, totally unprepared for what I
had done to his uncut meaty cock and low hanging nuts, ejaculated
quickly. Thick sperm had flowed into my mouth only a minute or two
after I started to suck.

In my most innocent, altar boy voice I asked, "Did I do okay,
Father?"

"Steven, my boy, your, ah, worship service was most satisfactory.
Perhaps my nephew Paul will join us in prayer next time we meet."

"When?"  I asked, excited at the prospect of going down on Paul.

"Not until mid-August, I'm sorry to say. When he and I return from
Rome.  The Holy Father himself will be ordaining Paul into the
priesthood.  We leave for Vatican City tomorrow afternoon."

"What if I come by in the morning?  Will Paul be here?  We could all
sort of pray together before you leave for the airport."

I felt a whole lot better leaving the church then I did going in.
Father Peter had called Paul while I was getting dressed. "Steven
Ryan," he said into the phone. "The boy who helps out with the cub
scouts.  He's joined the program and he wants to pray with us. Yes,
both ways. The rectory is best I think, tomorrow at nine o'clock."

My feet hardly touched the sidewalk as I skipped away from the
church. A prayer date with Father Peter and Paul, two cocks to suck
tomorrow, and there in the schoolyard, Mitch Greer shooting hoops,
bare chested and alone.

"I'm sorry about your brother, Steven," he said when I walked over
to the court. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," I said, trying to keep my eyes above his waist. I boned up
anyway looking at his bare chest and the trail of hair that led from
his nipples down into his shorts. "Your cousin still in town?"

"Jeff?  No.  He just came for graduation."

"That was some party, huh, Mitch?  I mean afterwards, you know, the
party in my mouth.  We could...I'd like to...party again, if you
want to, whenever you want."  I knew I was running off at the mouth,
making a fool of myself but I couldn't help it.  "I found all the
pictures you put in my pants pocket by the way. I really appreciate
your not showing them around, Mitch, not telling everyone at school
that I'm, you know...a fag."

Mitch laughed and went back to taking shots, making most of them. He
ended his workout with ten in a row from the free throw line, then
came over to where I was kneeling on the sideline.

"In the john, faggot, last stall. You can show me your appreciation
from your knees."

I didn't have to wait long, maybe five minutes, before Mitch came in
for his blow job. His jock strap was soaked with sweat, which made
it harder and a lot more fun to peel over his dick and down his
hairy legs.

"Make it quick one, cocksucker" he said when I began to lick all
around his crotch and balls. "I gotta meet Stuart at the subway."

Forty minutes and a subway ride later found me in the company of
Mitch and Stuart at the entrance to Washington Baths.  The two of
them were members, sharing a cabana for the summer.  Stuart sort of
invited me when I walked Mitch to the subway station after sucking
him off in the park bathroom.

"How ya doing, faggot?  I hardly recognize you with your clothes on
and without a dick in your cocksucker mouth."

"I'm okay, Stuart."

"Suck any big ones lately?" He said, grabbing my hand and rubbing it
against his crotch.

I hated this guy yet I still got a boner.  He would have left me on
the ball field completely naked on prom night, my worst fear, and I
still felt the urge to get on my knees for him.  I hated him and I
wanted him.  I hated him and I still wanted to suck his dick and
have him cum in my mouth.

"Steven just blew me in the park bathroom not five minutes ago,"
Mitch said as a train roared into the station.

"No shit," Stuart said as he hustled me through the turnstile and
onto the train. "You'll suck my cock at the club," he said, and that
was all the invitation I needed.

Washington Baths was just as I remembered. Great big pool and the
beach, tennis, basketball and handball courts. A giant playground.
The place was crowded with moms and little kids, not too many dads
on this weekday.  Loads of teenagers too, boys and girls, and the
sounds of people having a good time.  I followed Mitch and Stuart to
the men's side where the rows of cabanas, like a big outdoor locker
room, were located.

Mitch and Stuart fiddled with the combination lock on cabana #247
while I watched a gorgeous guy come out of cabana #251. He was
wearing a WB Lifeguard T-shirt that stopped well above his belly
button and a skin tight bathing suit which was little more than a
jock strap, a well filled jock strap, and yellow flip-flops. Jet
black pubic hair spilled out from the top and sides of the suit,
blending with the hair on his well defined stomach and muscular
thighs.  What a hunk I thought, staring at his ass as he walked away
towards the pool.

"Would you get on your knees for him?"  That's what Mark would ask
if he were here; our private joke about guys that turned us on, guys
that deserved to be sucked off by fags like Mark and myself. Any
time and as many times as he wanted, would have been my answer.  On
my knees, on my back...standing on my head if that's what it took to
get that lifeguard's big dick in my mouth.

Mitch finally got the cabana open. Stuart wasted no time pushing me
inside and ordering me to strip naked as he closed the door behind
us. I hung my clothes on the last empty hook, the others occupied
with an assortment of bathing suits, jock straps and towels.  The
rectangular cabana was made out of plywood, with a clear plastic
roof to let in the light. There were benches along the two short
walls and a big mirror on the back wall, opposite the door.  I sat
down on one of the benches to remove my sneakers, but Stuart stopped
me.

"Keep 'em on, faggot. Without your clothes they'll makes you look
like a jerk, a total queer."

Leslie Goldstein had worn his sneakers and nothing else when he
cruised around at Boy Scout camp looking for guys to suck and it did
look pretty dumb.  Naked outside at camp was bad enough as far as I
was concerned.  Wearing clunky hi-top keds like I had on would make
it worse.

Stuart stripped off his own clothes and laughed when I automatically
went to my knees between his legs.  He shook his head no as I
reached out to bring his semi-hard cock to my mouth. And then I
remembered.  "Please."

"Please what, fag?"

I hated Stuart, hated the games he made me play and how he never
missed an opportunity to call me fag and cocksucker.  Like he had to
keep putting me down, keep reminding himself, reminding me that I
was different from him. Like he was normal and I was queer. Well, he
was different too in some ways. His penis was crooked and he smelled
and...oh god, who was I fooling. My dick was hard and throbbing,
dripping precum just looking at his dick, knowing how good it was
going to feel between my lips and in my mouth...how good his salty
spunk was going to taste when he shot off in my mouth.

"Please may I suck your cock, Stuart?"

"Why?"

"Why what?" I said, aroused by his cock and confused by his
question.

"Why do you want to suck my cock, faggot?"

Good question, one that had been floating around in my head since
Mitch had caught me on my knees in the locker room with Mark and
turned me into a cocksucker less than a month ago.  Why was I naked
now and submissively on my knees in front of this boy who treated me
like shit?  Why was my penis erect and throbbing and drippy with
precum in anticipation of taking his sex organ, taking his prick
into my mouth to be sucked?

Why did a penis, a tube of male flesh feel so darn good sliding
between my lips, feel so darn good as it swelled to erection in my
mouth and pulsed with life on my tongue?  And semen, why did I
suddenly crave it so much?  Why did I tingle all over when millions
of microscopic sperm cells from a boy's testicles were ejaculated
into my mouth?  I didn't have the answer, nor did Mark, but I knew
what Stuart wanted to hear and what I wanted desperately to do.

"Because I'm a fag, Stuart.  "A faggot cum eating cocksucking queer.
"I was born to suck dick. Please Stuart, please let me suck your big
cock."

"Kiss it first, cocksucker, on the tip. Use your tongue on my nuts
and...."

My spirits soared the moment my lips made contact with the spongy
head of his prick.  I kissed the tip loudly several times, smacking
my lips each time. An hour ago Mitch had cum in my mouth, Father
Peter before him. Another mouthful of cum would be heaven.

"....maybe I'll cum on your face today.  How would you like that
pretty boy?  We can both watch in the mirror as I splatter your
faggot face with cum."

Stuart was breathing heavily and his legs were starting to tremble.
His balls drawing up in their wrinkled sack sent me quickly back to
his shaft. My mind flashed back to the night of the prom as my lips
spread around the engorged head of his dick and a drop of precum
settled on my tongue. I bobbed my head back and forth, sucking all
the while.  No way was I giving up his cock until every last drop of
cum had oozed into my mouth.

"Next time, fag, I'm cumming on your face," Stuart said as I
swallowed his load.  "You hear me, cocksucker?"

I heard nothing except the sound of music. Saw nothing except the
stars. Sensed nothing except the cock and cum that had set me free
to soar above the earth, to fly among the angels.

"Jeez, it stinks in here."

"You can blame the fag for the smell, Mitch.  That's his jizz all
over the mirror.  The cocksucker blew with my dick in his mouth.
Man, Steven's so queer, I don't think he even touched his own cock."

I thought it smelled wonderful, like heaven.  I could have stayed
where I was watching myself watching the long strings of my cum dry
on the mirror if Stuart hadn't slapped the back of my head and told
me to lick it up.

"Cum loving faggot queer," Stuart muttered as I went to work with my
tongue.  "C'mon, Mitch, let's hit the pool.  Maybe a burger and
fries first.  Getting a blow job has made me hungry."

It was only after Mitch had relocked the cabana that I realized that
all of my clothes were inside.  They had put on bathing suits,
laughing when I crawled over to Mitch, nuzzled his crotch and asked
if he wanted another blow job, then shoved me out into the bright
sunshine with nothing on except my sneakers.

"Do you have a bathing suit for me?" I asked.

"Think we should give him a suit?"

"Nah.  Leave him the way he is. Nobody'll even notice unless...
jeez, lookit Mitch, the fag's getting a hardon."

There was no place to hide and no way to hide the fact that I had an
erection.  "Please, guys," I whispered, trailing after them until
they turned a corner and the pool came into view.  Another step or
two and I'd have been on the pool deck in all my glory.

"Please don't leave me here..."

"See ya later, faggot," Stuart said into my face.

"...naked."

This was worse than boy scout camp where at least everybody was
naked. Here, the people passing by were dressed, bathing suits or
shorts.  I stood out like a sore thumb.  For the first time in my
life I was glad that I had a small penis. At five inches, my boner
was far less obvious than it might have been.

Close to tears, I wandered aimlessly around the cabana area until I
found myself back in front of #247, still locked up with all my
clothes inside.  Just down the row I noticed that #251 had no lock
on it.  The door was shut, but no lock.  The hunk of a lifeguard had
come out of #251 earlier, maybe he'd left a bathing suit or a towel
that I could sort of borrow for a while.  I waited until the coast
was clear before opening the door just wide enough to slip inside.

The cabana was a mess, bathing suits, T-shirts, jock straps, strewn
all over the floor and hanging from every hook. And it smelled like
guys.  The male trinity of sweat, urine and sperm; the smell of
heaven to me.  I picked up a well worn jock, stained and stretched
out, the initials S.R. inked in the waistband.  The meshy fabric was
soft and comforting against my cheek. I took another to wipe off the
head of my boner, adding a small contribution of precum to the
stained pouch. I could jerk off in here, spray all over the place,
add my sperm to the mix, and nobody would notice.

"Looks like fun.  Mind if I join you?"

I must have jumped three feet, startled, but the voice was friendly,
unthreatening, warm and soft.  The big hands that gently circled my
waist were also warm and soft.  With his mouth almost touching my
ear he said, "Name's Sandy Richardson, that's my jock strap your
sniffing."

I sagged back, close to falling, but he held me up easily and let me
lean against his body.  I started to apologize, but he stopped me by
taking my hand that held the jock and bringing it back to my face.
I let out a small sigh as the warm musky smell filled my nose and
recharged my penis.

"Whew, that one is ripe.  Bet the smell could stop an elephant in
its tracks.  I never wash my jocks, just throw them away and buy new
ones every year. That's a real old one.  Maybe you'd like to have
it?"

He didn't wait for answer...just spun me around while suggesting I
try it on.  I turned red, closing my eyes in shame when my boner
grazed his bare thigh, then thumped against my stomach.  Instead of
shoving me away or worse, he chuckled softly.  "Who are you," he
asked. "Didn't I see you before with Greer and Kaminsky?"

Sandy, the lifeguard I had drooled over earlier, reminded me of my
brother George. Natural and easy going...a really cool guy.  A
minute after introducing myself, he pointed out that we shared the
same initials, we were talking together, laughing like old friends.
I almost forgot that I was naked, except when I dared to peek at the
bulge in his crotch or when his hand casually touched my shoulder
and my penis jumped.

"Greer's not a bad guy,"  Sandy said when I told him how I had come
to be at Washington Baths, in his cabana with nothing on. An edited
version, omitting the part about blowing Mitch in the park bathroom
and Stuart in the cabana.  He didn't need to know I was a fag.

"Kaminsky's a jerk, a total prick.  Was he the one that took your
clothes and locked you out of the cabana?"

"Mitch had a hand it in too," I admitted. "He's also a part of the
problem."

"Speaking of which, it looks like you got a little problem apart
from Mitch Greer and Stuart Kaminsky."

Yeah, I thought, licking my lips, and his name is Sandy Richardson.
A long string of precum was dangling from the tip of my penis. I
started to shiver when Sandy put his hand on my knee.  "Ask you a
question, Steven?"

I nodded, afraid to open my mouth and make a bigger fool of myself.

"Are you gay?"

Reasonably happy was the first response that came to mind; one of
the many I had thought up in anticipation of such a question being
asked of me someday. Sandy was the first to come right out and ask.
No one had needed to ask before today.  Mitch had caught me with a
dick in front of my mouth.  Stuart and Jeff had watched me going
down on Mitch.  They had their answer without asking the question.

Sandy was asking and why should I play games with him?  Why lie? I
would do anything this macho hunk of a guy wanted me to do. Suck his
cock, his balls, kiss his ass...anything. But was he asking because
he was horny and he wanted to use me to get his rocks off or because
he wanted to beat up on a fag?

Here goes nothing, I thought, taking a deep breath and praying it
was a blow job he wanted.  "Yes, Sandy, I'm gay."

"That's great, Steven.  So am I."

Chapter 19

I stared at Sandy's handsome face for a moment and then I kissed
him.  Kissed him fully on the lips with a passion fueled by relief
and surprise that he was gay.  He took me in his arms and kissed me
back; darting his tongue between my lips, running his hands all over
my body, until I was a quivering mass of over excited flesh.

I tore at his T-shirt, anxious to see his body...be naked, the two
of us...naked together. Feel his bare skin. Touch him, smell him,
taste him.  "Let me do it," I said when he stood up to remove the
jock-like bathing suit that was losing the battle with his fast
growing erection.

When he was free, when his beautiful erect penis was in my face, his
big hand on my cheek, I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, "I
need your cock, Sandy, in me, in my mouth. I want...I need to suck
you."

He eased me to my back and straddled my body.  "Let's suck each
other."

Sandy's head was between my legs, his lips wrapped around my penis
before you could say sixty nine.  We sucked beautifully together,
urgently yet patiently, like boys who'd been sucking each other for
years. Sandy was a much better cocksucker than Mark, more skillful
with his tongue and lips, and his big hands were doing things to my
body that made my toes curl and sent chills up and down my spine. I
felt a climax building long before I wanted to cum. But cum I did,
uncontrollably, with my penis deep in his mouth.

Sandy filled my eager mouth with his wonderful sperm a moment later.
Huge spurts of warm sperm, thick and rich, ejaculated with great
force into my sucking mouth.  Sperm that was salty and spicy. Sperm
that clung to my gums and excited my tongue. Sperm that slid easily
down my throat like the cup of warm buttermilk my mother gave me
each day when was I was little.

"Don't," I whimpered when he withdrew his softening penis from my
sperm infused mouth and reached for his bathing suit. "Stay naked
with me, Sandy. I want to suck you again, from my knees this time.
Hold you, feel you grow hard in my mouth."

"I'd love to, Steven but I have to get back to work.  Do you really
want to suck more cock?"

"Lots more," I said honestly and without shame.

Sandy nodded knowingly and said, "Wait here, Steven, I'll send my
pal Jack in to see you.  He's a lifeguard too."

"Is he, you know, like us?"

Sandy leaned over and kissed me on the nose. "All the lifeguards are
gay at Washington Baths. The guys on staff too. The owner, Max
Klingenstern, he only hires gay college guys because we don't hit on
all the girls and he likes to watch us get in on with each other.
Max is cool for a man in his seventies.  He calls us his fehgalahs."

"What?"

"Fehgalah.  It means fag in Jewish.  You mind being called a fag?"

"Depends on who's doing the calling.  My gay friend Mark and I call
each other fag, and faggot all the time...and cocksucker.  When a
prick like Stuart calls me a fag or a cocksucker, well, you know,
it's different. He says it to put me down."

"Hey, I really got to run.  Wait here for Jack, I'll send him in for
a blow job and whoever else I can find for you to suck off.  Come to
the pool when you're done, meet the rest of the guys."

I spent the next hour happily on my knees in cabana #251. Jack was
followed by Walt who was followed in succession by David, Roger,
Nick and Bruce.  Good looking guys who appreciated an enthusiastic
blow job and understood my need to suck dick. Guys who got off in my
mouth and respected me afterwards.

I politely declined each friendly offer to blow me in return. I
didn't want to cum...just suck. Suck dick and savor the feeling as
each guy unloaded in my mouth.  Ten blow jobs since Father Peter
this morning, ten times my mouth had been filled with sperm and I
was disappointed when Bruce said there was nobody else waiting.

Suitably attired in a pair of slightly too big shorts that Bruce
helped me find and my hi-top keds, I made my way to the pool. Mitch
and Stuart were on the basketball court showing off in front of a
group of bikini clad girls.  Shirtless, Mitch's body still made me
tingle with desire. Stuart was a prick.  Mitch had a prick, a prick
that deserved to be sucked.

"Hey, you made it.  Welcome to Washington Baths."

"Sandy! Hi. Yeah, I made it.  Oh, and thanks."

"For what?"

"For the shorts I'm wearing, they're yours, and thanks also for," I
grinned sheepishly, "for Jack...and Walt, David, Roger, Nick and
Bruce. They were great, every one of them."

"They told me you were great too, Steven, great head. They also told
me that you wouldn't let them return the favor.  What gives? Don't
you like a blow job?"

"I just felt like sucking."

"Well, they all feel like they owe you one."

The fact that six college guys wanted to blow me was enough to make
my head spin and my penis stiffen.

"You must be thirsty after all that...." Sandy paused to let a woman
and her young son pass by..."salty semen.  C'mon, let's get a coke."

"Sounds good.  Hold up, Sandy, I have to get these sneakers off.
They're making my feet too darn hot."

Sandy laughed when my bare feet touched the sun baked concrete and
I ran to plunge my burning feet into the pool, howling in pain all
the way.  "Sorry," he said, "I forgot to warn you about how hot the
deck can get.  Here, take my sandals, I'll get another pair."

Like his shorts, Sandy's bright yellow flip-flops were a little big,
but felt just right when I put them on my feet.  His shorts, his
sandals, I'd even tried on his jock strap.  Wearing Sandy's stuff
was fun.  "Hey, same color," I said when he returned wearing
identical yellow flip-flops.

"Max gets them for us, the white T-shirts and skimpy bathing suits
too. His own design, so he can check out our bodies. If this wasn't
a family place, Steven, I swear Max'd have us boys naked all the
time, not just after closing."

Sandy exchanged greetings with nearly everyone as we walked over to
the refreshment stand. Not just the lifeguards, but all the guys on
staff wore white T-shirts and jock-like bathing suits I noticed,
even the good looking Puerto Rican fellow who served us our drinks.
All but a few of the staff guys wore yellow flip-flops too, like
Sandy and I had on.  We got our cokes and sat in a quiet spot under
a tree.  Sandy put his arm around my shoulder when I asked about the
yellow flip-flops.

"So Max can tell us apart," Sandy said, tweaking my nipple. "The
gays from the few straights on the staff. His boys, Max's fehgalahs
all wear yellow flip-flops."

Fehgalahs? I thought, and then I remembered...fags.

"Max would like to meet you, Steven.  I told him about you and he'd
like to see you in his office at two o'clock.  Okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, without thinking.  My mind was elsewhere, on
my feet and the yellow flip-flops that identified me as one of Max's
fags.  All the people at the pool, a hundred or more, had seen me
wearing them.  What if....I was almost afraid to ask.  What if they
all knew what yellow flip-flops meant?

"Do people, the club's members I mean, do they know about the guys
who wear yellow flip-flops?" I said hesitantly, looking at my feet.
"I mean, all the members who saw me, do they think I'm one of Max's
fags?"

Sandy put his hand on my cheek and turned my face towards his.
"Would that bother you, Steven, if everyone out there knew you were
a homosexual?  No, don't answer right away.  I have to take care of
some things, stay here, have another coke. Think about it until I
get back."

I did think about it, much as I had thought about coming out of the
closet, or being forced out, a few times before. The initial horror
of prom night when Mitch had exposed me as a cocksucker to Stuart
and his cousin Jeff was but a distant memory. The thought of being
outed to everyone at school, labeled a fag, was both frightening and
exciting. Looking at my feet, I made a mental list of all the people
who already knew I was a fag.

All the guys I'd sucked off, most whose names I couldn't remember or
never knew. The lesbians and the straight guys at Lorraine's place,
watching me suck and...I stopped counting when I got past fifty
people who definitely knew I was a cocksucker.  The closet I was in
had doors made of glass.

I was still undecided when Sandy returned an hour later. Undecided,
but I followed him just the same. Followed him to Max Klingenstern's
office, flip flopping at his side in my yellow flip-flops.

Chapter 20

According to Sandy, Washington Baths, a Coney Island institution
since 1910, had been owned and operated by the Wasserman family
until Max Klingenstern, a retired apparel manufacturer, purchased
the business in 1961. Max, his wife Mildred and their daughter Sarah
had been members for years, continuing the membership after Sarah's
marriage in 1955. Max's decision to purchase the club shortly after
Mildred's death was motivated partly by his love for the old place
and mostly by his infatuation with good looking young men. Max was
a homosexual.

With his wife dead and Sarah living in California, Max could relax
and safely surround himself with the good looking college boys he
employed at the club. Gay boys mostly, fehgalahs as he called them,
boys who turned his fantasies into reality.

At 74 years of age and slightly hard of hearing, Max desired ever
younger boys to spur his waning sex drive. Not so young that the boy
couldn't ejaculate, fill his mouth with warm sperm when he lovingly
sucked the boy to climax. But not so old that the boy had lost his
boyish charm and youthful innocence. Blond boys were his favorites,
15 to 16 years old, with smooth bodies and little or no hair on
their arms and legs or around the tiny pink anal rosebud which Max
loved to tease with his fingers and tongue. Age had robbed Max of an
erection stiff enough to penetrate a boy's anus, but he could still
make a boy squirm and squeal in delight, beg to climax, as his
practiced tongue probed and pushed its way inside.

One active sexual encounter a week with a beautiful young boy was
all his old heart could take.  On the other days Max was content to
look at his employees.  Watch them at work, all but naked in the
skimpy bathing suits he had made for them, and after work when the
suits came off, watch his gay college boys at play.

Such a boy, me, was coming to Max's office today, his first young
boy in more than two weeks.  Sandy, his head lifeguard, was bringing
me over at two o'clock.  Never the young son of a club member
though, Washington Baths, unlike the other bath house Max owned in
the city, was a family place.  Max wouldn't touch a member's son, or
a son's member, as his former business partner and fellow boy lover
used to joke before he died.

Member's sons were off limits to Max and off limits to his gay
employees, even if the youngster displayed signs of homosexuality
and a willingness to act on it. No, the blond boy Sandy was bringing
was not a member's son and Max was aroused as he removed the baggy
trunks he wore. He settled into the chair behind his desk, naked,
save the yellow flip-flops on his feet, in anticipation of a most
delightful afternoon.

~~~~

"Call me Max," the grey haired man said in accented English as Sandy
sat me down in front of the desk.  The way he spoke reminded me of
the kindly old Jewish man who owned the corner candy store in my
neighborhood.

"The fehgalah?" He asked Sandy with a smile on his face and a
twinkle in his eye.

Sandy put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Yes Max, this is
Steven, the boy I told you about.  What do you think?"

"I think you can go back to work while Steven and I get acquainted."

Max was a good listener, a lot like my grandfather.  I told him all
about myself and my family, school and friends, hobbies.  I talked,
he asked a few questions, nothing about sex until he leaned back in
his chair, smiled and asked me to stand up and take off my shorts.
A simple matter of sucking in my gut and letting them fall to my
feet.

"Do you shvitz?" He asked when I stood before him naked.

The Jewish word for suck I thought and quickly said yes. Max sprang
up from his chair and came around the desk to stand next to me. His
long penis swayed back and forth with his testicles when he walked,
and he didn't have a tan line.  I stood there quietly as he ran his
hands over my body; tweaked my nipples, sniffed under my arms and
gently fondled my erection.

"The tush now, boytchick," Max said, bending me over the chair and
spreading my cheeks open. "Very nice. Did Sandy or any of the other
boys fuck you this morning?"

"No sir," I gasped as a wet finger pressed against my hole. "Blow
jobs only.  I, I've never been fucked."

Mark hates to get fucked. He told me it hurt like hell the few times
he let a guy use his ass, make him pussy is how he put it. He won't
fuck me because he's afraid he'll hurt me.

"Well, we'll have to do something about that. Come, boytchick."

With a last look at my shorts, I let him take my hand and lead me
naked through the cabana area and up a flight of stairs to a large
sun filled space.  Four old men, four naked old men were playing
cards.  Two other naked men were stretched out on lounge chairs
soaking up the sun that streamed through the glass roof and
reflected off the mirror-like walls.  College dick in the morning,
senior citizens to suck in the afternoon.  A full day of
cocksucking. Max laughed softly when he noticed my mouth hanging
open and the sunlit drop of precum hanging from the tip of my erect
penis.

"Later, boytchick," he said, reading my mind like an open book.
"First we shvitz."

Shvitz meant sweat, not suck, I quickly discovered when I followed
Max into a small, intensely hot, steam filled room.  In less than a
minute I was sweating profusely from the heat and shivering from the
feel of Max's tongue on my nipples and his hand cupped under my
sweaty balls.

"Are you going to fuck me, Max, make me pussy?" I asked when his
finger probed around my hole.

"Would you like to get fucked, boytchik?  It might hurt."

"That's what my friend from school told me, but I think I want to
try it anyway."  I wrapped my hand around Max's long semi-erect
cock. "You see, Max, for the longest time I was afraid to suck a
dick and let a guy cum in my mouth. I really wanted to suck...I
dreamed about it, but I was afraid.  I waited a long time, far too
long, to suck my first dick, become a cocksucker. I don't want to
make the same mistake again.  I really want to try fucking, become
a pussy boy.  So will you fuck me Max? Please."

"I wish I could, boytchick, but that dick in your hand...that's as
hard as it gets."

"What if I suck it, Max?  I'm a good cocksucker."

"So I hear.  But you can suck my old dick for an hour and it will
never get hard enough to make it into your sweet hole."

Max was right of course.  His long cock was fun to suck though,
because since it never did get rock hard in my mouth, I could let it
slip into my throat without choking.  His cum was different too,
less salty than any I had tasted before.  The salty sweat when I
licked his cock and balls clean, more than made up for the lack of
salt in his cum.

"Sandy was right, boytchick, you're a fine cocksucker.  And now it's
my turn to enjoy.  Lay back on the bench lad, we'll see what we can
do about scratching the itch in your boy pussy."

The swirling clouds of steam began to take on shape, angels and
cherubs appeared before me as Max ran his tongue along the length of
my cock. The gates of heaven opened along with the cheeks of my ass
when he spread my legs as wide as they could go and took my balls,
both at once, into his warm wet mouth. I reached for my cock, but he
pushed my hands away and took it into his mouth. I came. A gusher of
sperm bathed his mouth impossibly stuffed with my five inch cock and
smooth hairless balls.

With surprising speed for a man his age, Max had my legs over his
shoulders, his face between my buns and his tongue poking at my
hole.  I didn't feel a thing except pure pleasure when he slipped a
finger into me. The second finger stretching my hole had me reaching
for my cock again.

"In my mouth," Max said. "Piss first if you need to, boytchick, then
more of your sweet boycum.  A sin to waste while I open your tight
boy pussy for my tongue and later, maybe for the hard cock of one of
my fehgalah studs."

Max was a man of his word.  He drank every drop of piss I had in me
and the small load of sperm that followed shortly after. My asshole
felt empty when he removed his fingers and had me squat on his face.
Max ate...no, he devoured my virgin ass. His hands split me open
like a juicy melon, exposing my hole to his lips and the tip of his
tongue.  Inches from my face, Max's long fleshy cock cushioned atop
his loose hairy balls looked to inviting to pass up.  Max started to
piss the moment I closed my lips around the large purple head. All
but tasteless, like his cum I thought, swallowing the uneven flow of
warm urine.

I didn't think it possible, but when Max replaced his tongue with a
long finger and began to root around inside my ass...I got hard
again. I moved my ass, sort of fucked myself on his finger, rubbed
my cock on his body and sucked Max's dick all at the same time. I
came when Max tickled my tight nuts with his tongue.

"You're a good boy," Max said, wiping his face with a towel as we
left the steam room together. "Putting up with an old queer like me.
An old fag who can't get it up anymore.  Would you like to get
fucked now?  I mean really fucked. A big dick, nice and hard, for
your sweet boy pussy?"

"Yes," I said, touching my tender hole. Wondering who he had in mind
to take my cherry and worrying how much it was going to hurt.

"Which one of my fehgalahs would you like to take your cherry?"

"Sandy," I said without hesitation or embarrassment, although my
penis was rising as we walked.  "Are we going back to your office,
Max?  I left my shorts there."

"Sandy is a good choice, he'll be gentle with you.  I know because
he's fucked me several times.  Good looking college boy with a big
cock, quite thick too, and he cums like a racehorse.  The women
would be all over him if he wasn't a fehgalah."

"My shorts, Max,"  I said again, growing more concerned as we got
closer to the pool. I heard voices, people talking...laughing.  Max
had a towel around his waist, I was naked.  Bare assed naked, a
hardon too, yet Max was leading me by the hand to the crowded pool.
My eyes were useless, blinded by the afternoon sun, when I felt the
heat of the pool deck through my sandals.

Dead silence.  Shock no doubt at the sight of a naked teenage boy
with a hardon no less, entering the pool area.  Women and children,
teenage girls and boys, including Mitch and Stuart...all staring at
my naked body and not making a sound. I expected gasps of shock and
disbelief followed by humiliating laughter and giggles. All I got
was silence for several long, extremely embarrassing minutes.

A voice, deep, booming and heavily accented, broke the silence.
"Max, Max, who's the naked boy?  Your new fehgalah?"

Unless another boy had decided to strip and stand next to Max,
everybody, all of the hundred or so people at Washington Baths now
knew for certain that I was a fag.  And just in case someone hadn't
been paying attention or didn't understand Jewish or maybe hadn't
noticed my little boner, another voice, louder than the first called
out, "Your new fag's got a baby dick, Max, not much pubic hair. He
hardly looks old enough to cum...much less suck your cock?"

Max put a possessive arm around his fag's shoulder, mine. "He cums
just fine I'll have you know, and suck,"  Max chuckled, "A mouth on
him like you wouldn't believe, a regular vacuum cleaner. He's a far
better cocksucker than any of you old queens." Max hugged me
possessively while driving the final nail into my coffin.

I wasn't thinking...straight, gay or clearly, or I surly would have
realized that something was amiss, something strange was going on.
I can hardly be faulted, two of my worst nightmares were coming true
right before my sun blinded tear filled eyes. Everyone at Washington
Baths could see that I was naked. Everyone now knew for certain that
I was a fag, Max's fag, a fag and a cocksucker.  What next...a
demonstration?  Why not go all the way and suck Max's cock, put on
a show in front of all these nice people?

I had dreamed about it often enough, my third nightmare; naked, on
my knees, a dick in my mouth and a live audience present to witness
my complete humiliation. It wasn't part of my dream, but maybe if
Mitch and Stuart were still here they could jerk off into my mouth
or cum on my face. Maybe my new friend Sandy could fuck me in public
too.

"That sun is blinding, too hot for an old man like me," Max said.
"Two minutes and I'm ready to plotz.  Come, boytchik, I have a table
in the shade.  We'll have a cold drink and I'll introduce you to the
old fags I call my friends.  Then you can go play, make nice with
the other fehgalahs."

Out of the sun my eyes cleared quickly.  Not that I wanted to see or
talk to anyone or suffer any more embarrassment. I stole a quick
peak at the pool and froze...shocked, not believing what I was
seeing.

EVERYBODY WAS NAKED!!

Max, sitting next to me, had let his towel fall open. He was naked.
The old men around the table...naked. The few guys around the pool,
the fellow on the diving board, Sandy walking towards me...naked. No
women and children, no teenage girls and boys, no Mitch and no
Stuart were poolside at Washington Baths.  I spotted Jack, Walt,
David, Roger, Nick and Bruce; the guys I had sucked off, and a few
other guys by the refreshment stand, they were naked too. The place
was deserted except for thirteen gorgeous and very suckable naked
guys, seven naked old men, and me.  All of us wearing nothing, not
a stitch, completely naked except for yellow flip-flops.

Max laughed when he saw my erect penis.  "Beautiful boys, aren't
they?  College boys only you should know, good boys, smart boys
...and every one a fehgalah like you."

"What happened?  I mean where did everybody else go?"

"Nathans for a hot dog, maybe," Max answered over the glass of iced
tea he was drinking.  "Home to make supper for their hard working
husbands.  We close at five during the week and see, the fun is
about to begin.  Go, boytchik, go play...make nice with the other
fags."

I almost knocked Sandy over in my haste to join the mass of naked
guys assembling on the nearby patch of grass.  Two guys were already
paired off in a hot looking sixty-nine. Two others were on their
backs, legs spread, their partners squirting what had to be lube in
and around their assholes.  A hard dick to suck, balls to lick and
a fresh mouthful of delicious semen was only steps away.

"Hey, slow down, buddy," Sandy said. "There's plenty of dick to go
around.  You'll get your share of cock and cum.  How did things go
with Max?"

"Max?  Fine," I said, grabbing hold of Sandy's hardon.  Quickly,
before I could change my mind, I said, "Would you fuck me, Sandy?
Please?  I want you to fuck my ass...make me a pussy boy."

Sandy laughed. "You've never been fucked, Steven?  You're a virgin?"

"Uh huh."

"Does Max know?"

"I told him and I would have let him fuck me, but..."

"Yeah, I know, his cock won't get hard enough.  Bend over Steven,
let me check out your hole.  Did Max get a finger in?"

"Two fingers, and it felt good. Now I want a cock, your cock, Sandy.
I want your dick inside me. I want you to cum inside me."

After poking around in my ass for a couple of minutes, Sandy gave me
the bad news.  "My dick is too big, too fat.  It'll rip you up. The
pain will be terrible."

"But I really want to get fucked, Sandy.  Like I told Max, I waited
a long time to suck my first cock and now that I'm a cocksucker I
want to be a pussy too."

"I understand what you're saying, Steven. I felt much the same way
when I was about fourteen and the leader of my boy scout troupe had
me suck his cock at summer camp."

"He made you do it?"

"Nah, I'd wanted to do it for more than a year, he was a hunk, but
I didn't know how to go about it. He caught me one night after
lights out, going down on the kitchen crew and he let me suck him
off too. Biggest cock I had ever sucked...too big for my virgin ass,
but I wanted him to make me pussy. He fucked me alright, right into
the infirmary with a torn asshole.  So I'll fuck you, Steven, but I
can't take your cherry.  We need to stretch your hole first and I
know just the guy to do it."

"Who?"

"Juan Santiago, the guy from the refreshment stand.  He's got a long
thin cock...you'll know you've been fucked and it won't be painless,
but his dick will stretch your hole without tearing the flesh like
mine would.  What do you say?"

How ironic, I thought, nodding my head.  The first boy Mark had
sucked off when he was seven years old, the boy who had made Mark a
cocksucker was named Juan Santiago.  Now, years later, a boy with
the same name was going to fuck me and make me a pussy.

Sandy stayed with me the whole time Juan was preparing my ass for
his dick.  Max and his cronies had front row seats to what was fast
becoming a group activity.  Everyone wanted to see my virgin pucker,
kiss it for luck, Sandy explained as I nursed on his cock to steady
my nerves.  Everyone also had an opinion as to the best lube to use
and the best way to position me for the initial penetration.

"Doggy style is best for breaking in a tight new pussy like this
one," Juan announced, cutting off the friendly debate.  "Once I open
him up with my dick, fill him up with jizz, you guys will be able to
fuck him anyway you want."

"It's entirely up to you," Sandy said when I asked if everybody was
going to fuck me after Juan got finished?  "The first time can be
tough, after that it's a breeze. Take it easy on him, Juan...use
plenty of lube.  Max'll be pissed at all of us if you hurt his new
fag."

I looked over at Max who, along with his friends, was watching as
Juan got into position between my legs.  Standing in a group to
their left was the rest of the staff also watching and probably
hoping that I'd let them fuck me too.  Why not, I thought. If I
liked Juan's cock in me and it didn't hurt too much.  We were all
gay boys, fags with nothing to hide from each other. Half of them
had already experienced my skills as a cocksucker so why not let
them all fuck me too.

Juan spread my cheeks and pressed his cock at my hole. A huge cheer
went up when he announced that the head was in. The initial pain of
penetration, the burning sensation brought tears to my eyes and made
me question my decision to give up my pussy. Where was it written
that a faggot cocksucker had to be a faggot pussy boy too?  Mark was
a fag and he wouldn't let anybody fuck him, not even me, his best
friend.

Sandy kissed away my tears.  "I know it hurts, but the worst part is
over.  Here, suck my cock, Steven, I'll get one of the guys to lick
your nuts, take your mind off the pain."

Sandy's meaty dick in my mouth, an unseen tongue on my balls...it
may have been a coincidence but the pain was gone.  Juan's dick in
my butt felt good.  No, better than good, great.  I felt my asshole
opening for Juan's dick much like Lorraine's cunt had opened for my
dick the time I fucked her at Mark's house.  Now I was being fucked,
up the ass doggy style like a bitch dog in heat. Now I was the pussy
servicing a stiff cock and it felt wonderful.

"This pussy is ready to party," Juan announced as he eased all the
way into me.  "Take a number, boys, because I'm not going to last
long."

Sandy was the last one to fuck me, but the first to have me on my
back like a girl, face to face with my legs over his shoulders. Max
had licked me clean, sucked the multiple loads of sperm out of my
ass before Sandy mounted me, leaving just enough cum behind to
lubricate Sandy's fat cock.  All around us guys were fucking and
sucking, pissing on each other...gay boys having one hell of a good
time. Laughter filled the air as Sandy fucked me to heaven, before
filling my bowels with powerful spurts of warm cum.

"You ever suck your own?" He said, rocking forward so that my knees
were by my ears and my rock hard cock was no more than an inch from
my lips. I opened my mouth to reply, Sandy flexed his dick which was
still hard in my ass, applied a bit more downward pressure and the
head was in. My rock hard cock, drippy with precum, was in my mouth.

The head at first and then half the shaft as Sandy began to fuck me
again. He was still thrusting into me when I blasted off like a
rocket, filling my mouth with heavy spurts of sperm from my own
balls.  I couldn't swallow fast enough and would have choked to
death on my own cum if he hadn't pulled out, quickly rolled me over
and slapped me on the back to dislodge the thick wad of cum that was
stuck in my throat.

"Is he okay?"  Max called out, concern evident in his voice.

"He's fine now, Max."

"Are you sure?  Maybe I should call a doctor."

Sandy chuckled and whispered in my ear.  "You want to explain what
happened to a doctor?"

"No way," I said and quickly rushed over to Max.  "No doctor, Max.
I'm okay...really.  I'll show you."  Fall off a horse, climb back
on.  Choke on a cock...

Max enjoyed the blow job I gave him and my offer to suck off his old
friends too.  Not one of them got hard enough to fuck me which was
a shame because guys were screwing all around us and my ass felt
empty without a cock.  Max must have seen me fingering my ass as I
sucked.  "The fehgalah needs a hard dick," he called out. "Who's
free to fuck him?"

The party continued until the sun went down and it got too dark to
see a dick in front of your face.  Max called it a night when even
I, the youngest fag in the group, couldn't get it up anymore.

Before they left, each of the old men gave me a five dollar bill.
Max gave me a membership card to Washington Baths and an invitation
to next week's party.  "Once a week is all this old heart can take,"
he said, patting me on the ass.

I took the money and the free membership, shrugging off the thought
that it was payment for sex.  Whores sold their bodies, got paid for
sex. I was a fag, sure, a cocksucker, but I wasn't a boy whore
selling blow jobs or, after today, peddling my ass for a few bucks.
The money was nice though, thirty bucks to suck off a few old men.

Six of us, carrying our clothes, piled naked into Sandy's car. I sat
in the middle between Sandy and Juan, stroking each of their cocks
and thinking how great it was to be a cocksucker, a pussy boy...how
great it was to be a fag.

The house was dark when Sandy parked at the curb which meant that my
mother was not at home.  A lucky break for me because it was almost
ten o'clock and I hadn't called to say I'd be late.

"Thanks for a great time, Sandy, and for the ride home," I said,
returning his unexpected but most welcome kiss, before ducking my
head under the steering wheel to really show my appreciation.

"Did Max invite you for next week?"

"Mmmm Mmmmm," was the only sound I could make as Sandy's cock just
sort of, kind of accidently on purpose found its way between my lips
and into my mouth after I kissed the head. I know it was a crazy
thing to do in front of my own house, but it had been a crazy day,
a wonderful day that had to end the way it had begun...end with a
dick in my cocksucker mouth.