Date: Sun, 29 Sep 2013 16:11:01 -0700 (PDT) From: Dave Krenshaw Subject: The Taking of Son Billy's Cherry: Installment 5 The Taking of Son Billy's Cherry: Installment 5 by davekrenshaw@yahoo.com This story may contain content of a sexually graphic nature which may not be legal for the jurisdiction in which you reside. If you are a minor, meaning you have not attained the age of majority, i.e.: "legal age", for the jurisdiction in which you reside, or material of this nature is illegal in the same, please close the window in which you are reading this disclaimer or as necessary, the computer browser you are using, immediately. This story is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents portrayed in such work are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, that you yourself have knowledge of is entirely coincidental. All comments as to this story in general or any installment of the same posted are greatly appreciated: Please send the same to me at: davekrenshaw@yahoo.com (Please put the title of this story in the subject line of your email, so that I will know that your email is not any type of commercial solicitation); and please be sure to state in your email if a reply from me is welcome. Please, if possible, donate to Nifty via the following: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html . My name is Billy; and up till now you have been learning all about me from the perspective of my handsome lusty dad, also known as "Uncle Davey" in the surburb of Charleston where I was proudly born and raised in. Well, you are now going to hear about what exactly has been going on, as told from my very own perspective: I am presently in my third year of college, attending Arlington-Richardson Memorial State University. I have been dating these girls off and on, though for the most part there hasn't really been too much in the way of sparks with any of them. The truth is that, though my dad made all of these presumptions about me, I have always considered myself to be straight. Anyway, as you may recall, I am here on a swimming scholarship. All has, for the most part, been fine with that; and I have enjoyed competing on the university swim team. However, it is as dull as doorknobs in many ways; and, for one thing, there isn't a whole lot to do in the nearest urban area. I am somewhat bored with the malls, though I admit I completely get why several of my friends here are drawn to hanging out there. I have been really studying hard, doing my best to live up to my dad's expectations. I am looking forward to spring break, which is coming up real soon. I feel compelled to clarify as best I can a thing or two about Coach Thorneheart: Yes, it is true that I had been having these recurrent sexual fantasies about him; and a lot of it had to do with the fact that my hormones at that time were one could say raging, as well as the fact that for me this understated sexy quality that this man that I admired greatly for his athletic prowess had was and perhaps still is a big turnon for me. Nevertheless, I frankly found that whenever he was involved with coaching the team, he never seemed to pay any attention to me whatsoever. In fact, his gruff manner was often intimidatingly scary to me. I have often wondered if he as rumored really showered with any of those male track team members; and, if so, whether all of that just involved showering together and nothing else happening. Needless to say, it was stupid on my part to record all of my fantasies in a journal and keep that journal at home. Then, Dad ended up having this sexual relationship with me: All right, I enjoyed a lot of that, especially the attention and the sexual intimacy and cuddling and even bonding. It is true that in many ways one cannot just escape from one's past. So, anyhow, it is nighttime here; and I am curled up in bed in my dormitory room with one of my favorite automobile manufacturer magazines, enjoying scanning the hot luxury cars debuting in 2014. Suddenly, there is a knock at my door. Thinking that it is this dude from two doors away returning the remainder of a bottle of shampoo I earlier in the day had lent him, I get up and swing open the door without even asking who is there first: I am squinting a bit, my eyes adjusting to the darned light virtually beaming into my eyes from the hallway and almost like from an alien's laser; and, then, eventually, I see this tall bear-like man teetering about in my doorway and wearing a black tuxedo but in a noticeably disheveled state. I am guessing that he just must have simply knocked on the wrong dorm door; and about to direct him to the downstairs security guard, the nine-times-out-of-ten snoozing slouch hopefully soon on his way out employment-wise, when he ultimately interjects: "Billy!" He stumbles into the room, I am recognizing the voice, plus there is only one person who has ever to date said my name in THAT tone. "Oh, my god, I don't believe it. Preston?!" "Yep.," he replied, grinning sheepishly like a young mischievous tyke whose hand had just been caught dipped in the cookie jar. "Listen, before you say anything, I have to tell you that I almost made a terrible mistake this afternoon, this frigid young lady I met a year ago, I almost married her today. I want you back, Billy, I want us to try...for there to be an US." I am staring at Preston, in a state of disbelief. I then quickly close the door and lock it, afraid that passersby might take in what is unfolding. "Preston, you're drunk, you don't know what you are saying." "OK, it is true, I got a bit stewed on the way over here, just very, very nervous about coming here out of the blue and seeing you after all of this time. Yet, even so, Billy, I know what I want; and what I want is you." He is swaying about; and then he attempts to grasp my right wrist but misses it as he stumbles. "Wait!, but you never said anything to be about your feelings before now, I don't think I really understand." "I was afraid, afraid of my feelings back then, I also did not think I could handle it, the rejection, if you said you did not feel that way about me. Plus, I thought maybe you might be in love with your dad." "I am not in love with Dad." "Listen, if you say you feel nothing, I will just leave." With that last statement, Preston saunters over to me and kisses me firmly on the lips with a great deal of passion, much more than I have ever witnessed or felt from him before. Reflexively, my mouth opens midway during the kiss; and our tongues intertwine, they are dancing together as one. I feel so caught up in desire, in everything, the heat of the moment, not to mention the heat of Preston's breath against my cheek. I begin to help Preston take off his jacket; and he virtually rips open his shirt, exposing a manly chest with a treasure trail of hair extending to at least his belt; and branches of hair, not very thick but yet most enticing, extending over his ample, firm pecs. I am very aroused by the masculinity and his Tarzan-like display of the same, I cannot help but marvel at how he has truly grown into one of the sexiest studs. Preston strips off the remainder of his clothing till he is full nude. I am just staring at him, still a bit dazed and, arguably, even more mesmerized than dazed. He pushes me onto the bed, repositioning me into the center of the bed so that I am face-up; and then he lies on top of me and begins to kiss me again as he is unbuttoning the top and unsnapping the fly of the bottoms of my sky-blue cotton pajama shorts set. Everything is happening in a natural way that really feels right on many levels, though I am experiencing each moment as if I am in a dreamlike state. "I wanna do all of the seventeen positions with you, Billy, I wanna show you how I really feel, I wanna make love to you over and over and over." I am now looking intently into Preston's eyes: I am noticing now, as if for the very first time, that they are this bright shade of brown; and they have this warm quality. I feel so happy, as I am lying flat on my back under this massive bear-like hunk of a man with a hot muscular body and broad shoulders. I feel the warmth of his nine-and-a-half-inch cock and his majestic low-hangers pressing against my pubes. He is alternately licking and kissing me from my shoulders all the way down the center of my chest; and then he starts to suck on my right nipple and follows that by sucking on my left nipple, I am greatly enjoying the eroticism and sensuality of this; and I am now rock-hard and ripe. All of these feelings within me have been resurrected, everything within me is flowing like the sea; and all feels so simple and beautiful and real. I am like clay in Preston's hands as he tosses my legs over my shoulders. My thoughts drift back to the day I first encountered him in the high school lockerroom, in my mind I relive through vivid imagery wrestling with him there, his repeated humping of me there, and his manly chest heaving against me then amid our moans and our heated fully body contact. He begins to gently press the head of his cock, now slick with dripping precum, between my plush buttocks and against my hole. "Take me! Oh, yes! I wanna be yours, Preston!" "Truly?" He looked at me, as I nodded yes; and smiled. I had never seen Preston ever, ever smile like that before, not even when he was honored by our school for the heroic touchdown he made in my senior year and while he was one of the most popular members of the football team at our school. I am hurting just a tad as he pushes in deeper and deeper, but, once he is about halfway in, I feel my cavern adjusting to his rod: He is a pretty perfect me for me, anatomically speaking, actually in all other ways as well. He begins to thrust; and I eagerly anticipate him releasing his voluminous outpouring of thick man seed as deep inside me as possible. The next morn, I awaken cradled in Preston's loving arms. We are cuddling together, with me positioned facing the doorway; and Preston whispers to me in my ear: "I love you, Billy, I always will." Suddenly, about hearing Preston's sincere expression of love and about to reply in return, I remembered this: Dad promising me right before I went away to college that he will not do anything to ruin any chances I have for long-term happiness. I hoped and prayed that whatever he was involved with back home, he was staying out of trouble; and, even more importantly, that, as to my future, he would still honor his vow to not interfere with my long-term happiness.