Date: Sat, 7 Jan 2023 16:01:28 +0100 From: roby bobby Subject: midnight-express-to-neverland-05 This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males under 18: if material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states, the law may have forbidden you from reading this story. Please understand this is a work of FICTION. The actions described in the story are neither real nor encouraged or condoned in real life. It's just fiction, folks. Please be sure to support Nifty and keep it going with your donations at https://donate.nifty.org/ Feedbacks welcome at de182tg@gmail.com. I'm not native English speaker, so please be kind to me! Thank you! *** Midnight Express to Neverland - Part 5 *** It goes without saying that people being shot, or dying of drug or alcohol abuse, was nothing new at The Gardens. After a week or so, Malcolm's unfortunate death was something no one spoke about anymore. Gone and forgotten. I met regularly with the Bandits after school, and have my happy time with Andy and Ty whenever possible, all the while trying to survive my father's toxic behavior. For example, my father constantly reproached my mother for spending too much money. And she was the one who earned it, working two shifts a day as a cleaner at a nearby hospital, mind it. At times, she rebuked most of HER money went to HIS drink, HIS friends and HIS car. Yes, his car, or rather "The Car"... a 1970 Camaro 396 in deep sky-blue color, with white stripes on the hood, roof and trunk, was surely the thing my father loved more than anything else, except himself of course. He was totally captivated by her, enslaved by her, addicted to her. He polished her almost every other day. There was no other Camaro in the neighborhood. In any case, there was no unemployed person with Camaro 396, granted. Some drug dealer, like Ty's friend Borjz, had better cars perhaps, but they weren't exactly unemployed, were they? At that time, I had no idea what was happening to my father, why he was constantly making real scenes or beating us. Only later, after I started talking about him with my mother, I got a grip on it. Gradually, I began to realize he just couldn't make it: every time he wanted to rise and shine, and every time he fell with his ass on the ground, hitting it harder than the last time. His father had despised him for it. My grandfather Henry had big plans for my father. If he hadn't known my mother, a Native American Chippewa with deep dark eyes and beautiful long black hair, big boobs and an ass to die for (or so my father said...), he would have had his own farm by now, and inherited the typography when the right time would have come. He, a young and promising WASP, was still learning the ropes when he met my mother. She became pregnant with us twins, he terminated his apprenticeship and married her. At some point he must have come to the conclusion that my mother, sister and I were responsible for his miserable situation. Of all his dreams, all he had left was the Camaro and a couple of braggart friends. At one point my father found a job. Not a job that satisfied him, but a job where he earned enough money for his drinks and The Car. So in the afternoon, both parents at work, I stayed at home with my sister. In Andy, the red haired Bandit with a dog, and Ty I had found real "friends with benefits": with Andy I felt happy, with Ty I felt safe and, in a way, loved. Sometimes, we locked my sis at home (for her own safety), and out we went, looking for something "adventurous", or have some fun together down in the basement, where Ty and I had sex the first time. I loved to be "tag teamed" by my two friends, and give their beautiful cocks all the love I could. We also tried something called "DP", but their cocks were too big to fit in my little ass together. "Just a matter of time and training" sentenced Ty after the last unsuccessful try. I thought we'd need those poppers Ty had, but they were depleted and buying new ones required some money we didn't have. Meanwhile I had turned ten at the end of summer break and I needed a little money to go out with my friends and have "adventures". And maybe buy that "poppers" thing. Parents rarely gave us money at home, so I started cheating a bit: I made money by returning the empty beers my father drunk to the store and get the money back from the deposit. He never noticed and I easily made a few bucks per week. I also started stealing. I used to steal from supermarkets, or the shops at the nearest mall. Just things I couldn't have otherwise. Especially sweets. Most of the children would eat sweets and I could easily resell some to them. I didn't eat swees a lot because my father used to say that sugar makes bad teeth. I loved my teeth white and healthy, and I managed to get no cavities so far. Unfortunately, one day the mall security caught me stealing a bag of candy. Being a 10-year-old, almost white boy who stole just a $5.75 bag of processed and colored sugar, they didn't call the police. Worst, much worst than that, they called my father. At work. He was not pissed off. No, absolutely not: he was batshit crazy and borderline to become a child murderer. He didn't say a word during the trip back home with The Car. When we reached home, he removed his belt and started chasing me around the house to "beat some common sense into my empty head", as he put it. I finally run to my room, trying to lock him out. Not fast enough. My father grabbed me and threw me into bed, hitting me with the belt. My mother was standing at the door, crying, but I couldn't see her at all. I only saw mom when she threw herself between my enraged father and me. She uselessly beat my father with her small fists, crying. At that point he was completely out of his mind. He turned to my mother and suddenly I was more afraid for my mother than for myself. Mom tried to escape to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. But my father was way faster and stronger, and grabbed her by the hair. The bathtub was full of water, because she planned to relax in a hot, bubble bath. My father stuck my mother's head in the tub, keeping her underwater. At one point she managed to get her head out of the soapy water and breathe deeply. I don't know if it was my father who let her go or if she broke free by herself. My father froze in place, wet, astonished, then disappeared into the living room, white as a corpse. My mother went to the coat rack and put on her coat. Without saying a word she left the house, her hair still dripping water over the floor. It was one of the most terrible moments of my life, when my mother, without saying a word, left the house and left us alone with our monster of a father. The next day nobody woke us up and we didn't go to school. At some point in the morning my mother came back. She hardly said a word to anyone. My father came home later, just as my sister and I were in the bathtub. He came to us in the bathroom and looking completely normal, as if nothing had happened, he said to us: "Why did she leave? There was absolutely no reason to". Throughout the evening my father acted as if my mother wasn't there at all. She too ate her food as if we were not there at all. He didn't say a word to us anymore. In a way this was worse than the beating. He never hit us again. But what he was doing now, acting like he was no longer a part of us, was terrible. He was somehow no longer our father now, although he still lived with us in our tiny apartment. Then, again, something bad happened to Ajax, my Great Dane: he got a stomach ulcer and soon died. There was no one to console me, I even felt my sis gradually turn to herself. I felt very lonely and wanted a new dog, but you need money to buy one: stray dogs were not my thing, as they more often than not were loaded with diseases or too wild to be taken home. And that's when Ty had the bright idea to introduce me to his friend Borjz, the "chief" dealer of any type of drug or smut at The Gardens, its immediate surroundings and parks. You'd imagine a tattooed guy with the iconic "BOSS" thick gold chain around his neck, lots of bracelets and rings, a couple of golden teeth, driving an exotic BMW? Right? Wrong. Borjz was impressive for his physique, chiseled by hours spent at the gym, not for his appearance. He drove a non-descriptive gray Toyota SUV. Immaculate, yet at least ten years old. No gold chains or rings or teeth. Just a normal Casio watch and a small ring on the left thumb, a memory of when he was playing football at Uni. Before the accident that, five years ago, crushed both his legs and his high hopes for a brighter future. Rumors were the Russian Mafia did the job after he cheated on them. Anyway, no one was asking questions, and his strange name was the closest link to anything Russian you'd think of. Ty told me all this as we sat outside F Block, waiting for Borjz to come home from whatever business had taken him away that freezing, early December afternoon. After a while the gray Toyota arrived. When Borjz got out he saw Ty and waved at us, gesturing to join him in the car, surely much warmer than outside. We hurried, careful not to slip on the snow-covered sidewalk. Introductions were quickly made, Ty explained him how I was a close friend of him, and how "close" I had been to Malcolm as well. He told him something about my abusive father, and the death of my beloved dog. And that I was in need of some cash, to put it simple. "So, little one, what's your name?", he asked me in a deep, manly voice. "I'm Jerry, but Ty calls me Mixy because I am a half blood Native." I answered. "And I am not little... I am already 11!" Ty laughed loudly. "Come on Mixy, yo's ten since last September, how it comes yo's now eleven after only three months?" "Well, I completed my tenth and started my eleventh year three months ago... I'm well into my eleventh... so, almost eleven, no?" Borjz smiled warmly at my ridiculous explanation but kept an otherwise straight face. "Ok, not-so-little 11-year-old Mixy. So... you need some easy money to buy a dog, uh?" "Yes, sir" "Drop the sir, call me Rjz, or fam like Ty does. So... what are you willing to do to get that money?" "Anything, sir... ehm... Rjz" "Uhm... `anything' is a little too wide, no? What are you you good at?" I looked at Ty. He smiled and winked at me. So I bluntly answered "I am good at fucking. And sucking dicks! And I love big ones!!" Of course he already knew that, Ty had spoken to him in advance. Nevertheless, he smiled at my bluntness, caressed his thick beard and answered "That's good, that's really good... but...That's something I need to check by myself before I recommend you to my friends for any... work. Follow me home, kids". The implications of what Borjz just said didn't escape me. I understood I was going to be thoroughly used by this black giant for his own pleasure, and I was down to it. My traitor dick was already hard in my pants. I just hoped he was not too big... and I also wanted him to be really big!!! I was a confused, little gay slut... My hopes were crushed once we all got naked in his bedroom and I had an eyeful of his body. Imagine a big, no, a HUGE dick, still soft, uncut, thicker than my arm, surrounded by a muscular black man, almost 7 foot tall, shaved head but with a thick beard, with bulging pecs and guns, a rippled six-pack and (I learned the term only later) a V-belt pointing at his slightly hairy crotch. All that goodness, planted on two muscular and slightly hairy legs, still showing the scars from the post-accident operations around the knees. "He's big, uh?" I heard Ty saying to no one in particular. Borjz laughed. "You should see my father's... Honestly, it doesn't get a lot bigger when it's hard. I'm a shower, you know..." I had them explaining to me the meaning of what he just said. So I learned that he, a "shower", was almost the same size, soft (he said nine and a half inch by seven around) or hard (close to eleven inch by eight around), while Ty was a "grower", meaning his size soft (five inch by three around) was way smaller than when hard (almost nine inch by six). I was in awe, looking at the two beautiful black males, naked and available to me, their cocks slowly inflating with blood. "You guys jump on the bed and show me what you can do... I will join the fun later". That said, he sat in an armchair, slowly pulling on his ginormous tool. Ty and I lied on the bed, he on his back and me on top, and started kissing. I loved kissing him, I loved it more than anything else. Kissing gave me a sense of intimacy and love that nothing else could compare to. I wrapped my hand around Ty's now fully hardened cock, and slowly began to fondle it while kissing my way down to his brown nipples. "Come on, Mixy, no foreplay today, I'm horny as fuck... please suck me... I'm desperate for yo' mouth and ass, baby slut..." I happily obliged and turned in a 69, giving Ty ample access to my asshole to get it ready for the inevitable and much wanted fuck. I took Ty's cock head into my mouth, sucking very gently while swirling my little tongue all around the pinkish head. I could hear my lover moaning into my ass hole every time I pushed my tongue into his piss slit. I glanced at Rjz, he was smoking a joint, slowly fondling his huge cock, not yet fully hard. He smiled at me, then he took a little vial from the nightstand and trow it to me. Poppers! Yeah. "I'm sure you know how to use poppers, Mixy... give a nice puff and show me how much cock you can swallow in one go, no stops until your nose is smelling my fam's balls..." I stopped sucking on Ty's cock head just to say I didn't need no poppers to swallow my lover's dick. With a silly grin on my face, I just did what Rjz wanted to see: I put my mouth on Ty's cock head and then pushed myself down, all the way down and more, until my nose was deeply buried into Ty's nut sack, his 9-incher deeply shoved into my slimy throat. I stood still, teary and proud, breathing through my runny nose. Ty's balls musky smell invaded my lungs, upping my sex drive more than any popper could ever do. Ty had other programs. He turned and had me on my back, head toward Rjz, keeping me impaled on his hard cock. But now, with my head pressed onto the mattress, he could easily fuck my throat at his pleasure while still munching on my ass hole and fingering it with his lovely, long and smooth fingers. And that's exactly what he did: he pulled out almost completely, I could feel his cock head popping out of my throat, and then rammed his cock back in, deep inside me. In and out, fully, steady, deeply. I could only see the underside of his shaft, black and shining, covered with spit, going in and out, and feel his balls smacking into my face. The gurgling and slapping noises alone almost made me have a dry orgasm. A foamy mixture of spit, throat slime and tears drooled from my mouth and nose into my hair and then dripped on the floor. "Enough Mixy, yo ass is as ready as it'd be... I need to fuck you. Now" said Ty, pulling out and moving to my back. My head was almost hanging at the foot of the bed, my face dripping with tears and slime. I was looking at Rjz when Ty bent my legs over my chest and unceremoniously pushed his hard cock deep into my ass. "UUUURRGHHHhhh --- AAahhHHHHhhhh --- yeeeaaaahhhh... fuck my ass, Ty... fuck meeee..." Ty savagely trashed my ass while Rjz was still smoking a join. He got up and approached me, his still inflating cock dangling between his legs. He put the joint close to my mouth and said "Here, slut. Give it a try". I was so high already from all the sex and the strange situation I didn't give it a second though: I closed my lips and inhaled. Of course, I immediately started coughing violently. "Fuck, Miky! Every time you cough your ass squeezes my cock... keep coughing... keep trying!" cried Ty. And trying I did. Rjz lighted a second one and shared it with me and Ty. I soon got the gist of it and finally appreciated the effects. "Shit... I'm close, Mixy... I'm really close... open your mouth..." Ty pulled out and moved on my side, pointing his throbbing cock to my mouth. "Here it cuuuummmsssss... Shiiittt... ahhh...ahhhhhh!!... take it, bitch... take it all!" Most of it went straight into my mouth, but some was evenly sprayed on my face. Ty collapsed on his back, with a silly grin on his face "Shiiiit, guys... that was a lot of fun!!! I really needed that. Thank you, Mixy, yo's ass is lovely, my fam..." "Yeah, I've loved the show, kids. You are fucking good, honest. But now... now the professionals enter the game. Are you ready for a tougher game, Mixy?" I'm sure I was grinning like a stoned 10-years-old when I looked at the huge hard cock in front of me and vigorously nodded my head a big "YES". "Will it fit?" was the only thought I had. ******* My stories on Nifty: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/little-alex/ - The Mother of all my stories https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/little-alex-friends - A spin-off adventure among Alex's friends https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/incest/little-alex-jenny-and-the-machine - A Bisex variation with a little sister https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/a-romanian-in-paris/ - A dark fantasy packed with young, nasty boys.. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/the-devil-lives-in-paris/ - Remastered version of A Romanian in Paris, with a different twist https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/i-am-back - An hommage to fellow Author Norfolkandgood https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/midnight-express-to-neverland/ - A story in the suburbs of Chicago, inspired by the novel Christiane F.