Date: Sat, 7 Feb 2009 16:26:38 +0100 From: A.K. Subject: Skinhead Lovers 1/16 (rural) ---------------------------- SKINHEAD LOVERS by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on August 28, 1998 translated by the author English text kindly revised by The Australian ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "SKINHEAD LOVERS" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- CHAPTER 1- ENCOUNTER Everything started at the end of October 1991, that is a few days before Jeremy Hutchings' 19th birthday. Jeremy's father worked at the local MacDonald as a cook and his mother in a cleaning agency. Jeremy was their only child. His father wanted him to study even though Jeremy had no love affair with books, so he had enrolled his son in the local County College, in the Accountancy course. Jeremy really hated mathematics, but there was no space for discussion with his father, so he had to go to school. The only good thing was that he could enter the school's American Football Team and he loved the sport. Jeremy was an average boy in all. Average height, average intelligence, average behaviour... He wasn't handsome. He had a good body, mainly thanks to sports, but his face was nothing special: a nose just a little too big, a mouth slightly too large, eyes of a plain brown, perhaps a little bit too wide, ears lightly protruding, a mop of brown straight hair... Just when he was smiling his face became something handsome, because he had a disarmingly bright smile and his eyes acquired a special sparkle. That evening, quite late, the sky heavily clouded, providing little light, Jeremy was walking home after football training, his sports sack over his shoulders. He passed the front of the Mall and noticed a group of skinheads. The town had few skinheads. They were conspicuous for their attire in a place that was plainly middle class. Apart from two or three of them, who were really fascists, racists hoodlums, the others just enjoyed showing somewhat of a rough appearance, to seem engaged in hostile and violent activities, but were just kids wanting to emerge from the greyness of the local youths, or just wanted to rebel against their families' apparent respectability. They seemed to succeed in their collected plan, in fact they were somewhat feared, but also despised by the local community. The most awful thing they did, was to insult some black or Asian people, to shoplift, more as a way to defy the shopkeeper's watching abilities than to really steal valuables. They wrote obscenities on the walls without being caught by the sheriff, they ran up and down with their bikes making a hellish amount of a noise in the dead of the night. Just once or twice they were engaged in heavy clashes with neighbouring youths' bands. In some ways they were, apart from their current demeanour, more punks than real skinheads, even if they had chosen the skinhead aspect and apparent behaviour. Jeremy had already noticed one of them in particular. He was a blond with cropped hair all over and a little longer in the centre of the head. A boy just a little older than himself, that seemed as beautiful as a Greek statue. He had a belt with a big drake as a buckle. However, Jeremy noticed that this evening he was not with the group. Jeremy was a little troubled that night. It happened to him quite often. It was almost a year since he'd had any chance to have sex, and he missed it. After training, showering with all his teammates was torture. Often he had a hard-on. He didn't care so much, because they all were young and hard-ons were not so uncommon. However, he had to be careful not to be noticed admiring his fellow's exciting bodies, because the townsfolk were not at all kind to gay people. So he could only go to the toilet to wank, dreaming of impossible matings, trying to find a temporary relief. One year without any sex, besides wanking, was something weighing heavily on him and kept him in an almost constant state of arousal. He would have participated in sex with anybody, provided he was a male, even if he was a fat and old man. Sure, he would have preferred his teammates, or, for instance, even one of those bully skinheads. His last lover had been the young minister of the church his parents attended. When they first met, Donald, the minister, was twenty-five years old and Jeremy was sixteen. Jeremy was not new to male love. He already had three mates before him and he was sure, and had accepted, being gay. When the new minister came to their church, Jeremy at once had a crush on him. So he was often hanging around the young man, ready to help him, to do a lot of small chores, just for the pleasure of being near him. And of course he dreamed to have sex with him, but being Donald a married minister, he didn't really think about the possibilities. But one day, after he had mowed the church's lawn and done lot of other works, he decided to take a shower as he often did in other occasions, before going downtown so that he didn't have to go home and back. He was showering, when the door opened and Donald entered the room. "Oh, sorry! I didn't know you were here, I thought somebody had left the water flowing..." the young minister said but, instead of leaving, he just closed the door behind him and kept staring at the boy's body. "I was rinsing, I'm nearly finished showering." Jeremy said, feeling slightly troubled but excited by the man's stare. "Take your time, son, no hurry" the minister said, drawing nearer to him. "Thank you..." Jeremy said finishing up. "You know you are really well shaped?" the young man said making another step toward him, so that now just few inches separated them. Jerry was now starting to get a hard-on. "Do you think?" he asked half bashful, half pleased. Donald slightly brushed his chest: "Yes... you are beautiful..." he whispered looking the boy in his eyes and smiling at him. Jerry quivered and closed his eyes. "Are you feeling all right?" the man asked as his caresses become more physical. "More than good... Donald." he said. It was the first time he called him just by his name. The young man rightly understood what message the boy was sending him, so his caress became really sensual, and his hand rested at last on the boy's now fully erect, throbbing cock. "Do you like that?" the man asked in a husky voice. "Yes..." "Do you want me to stop?" "Oh, no." "Do you want... more?" "Please..." the boy murmured full of emotion. "Well, dry up then... there is nobody at home now. Would you like to come in my room?" "Yes, please." A few moments later, they were both naked, in the king size bed of the minister. The man was embracing, caressing, kissing him and the boy was in a dreamlike state, admiring the lean and muscled body of that magnificent male, and caressing his superb erection. "This is not your first time, is it?" the man asked. "No, but I've dreamed of being with you this way, Donald. So many times" "What would you like to do with me, Jeremy?" "Anything... everything." "Do you like to sixty nine?" "Very much." "And, will you accept me in that little nice ass of yours, my sweet Jeremy?" "With pleasure, Donald..." The man turned around and they started to suck each other. Jeremy was filled with joy, finally having that tasty piece of hard and hot meat between his lips, sliding in and out of his eager mouth, while the man was licking and sucking his already respectably sized manhood. And he was in frenzy when the man started to lap his tight balls then made his way, slowly, to his puckered ass-hole. "Ooohhh, Donald, yes..." the boy moaned when the man started to rim his small and warm hole. It was the first time someone had rimmed him, and he thought it was beyond wonder. He felt the tongue, now tickling, now lapping, now pushing inside the tight passage, and finally he received an expert and deep tongue fucking. He was trembling violently, darting over the wide bed under the ministrations of his young minister. He started again to suck at the young man's hot rod with intense passion and thinking that soon that meat column would change its place from his welcoming mouth to his willing ass, making him go wild. The young man parted from the boy and made him lie on his back and took his legs upon his shoulders, setting himself into the right position to penetrate his willing partner. Looking at him in his eyes with a winning smile, he asked the boy: "Are you ready, my handsome kid?" "Oh, yes... please..." "Do you want me inside you?" "Yes, badly..." "What do you want me to do?" the man said jokingly, pointing the tip of his hard club on the boy's palpitating hole. "Fuck, me, please... fuck me..." The young man smiled while nodding, then plunged inside him. It was the first time that Jeremy received the spear of an adult man. It was lot bigger than any he had experienced before. He winced in pain, but as the man stopped, he looked at him with a bright smile and murmured: "Go on, please..." Encouraged, the beautiful man took another plunge, completely embedded himself inside the hot, welcoming channel of the boy. Jeremy felt split open and completely filled, but loved the feeling. The big tool was slowly moving and brushing his small prostate. He again smiled again at the man. "Do you like it, Jeremy?" "I love it..." "I'm completely inside you..." "I know..." "It's ok?" "It's wonderful... fuck me, please..." The man bent over him and deeply kissed him in the mouth, then, rising a little again, started to pump his piston inside the hot and tight pipe. "Oh, yes, Donald... harder... stronger... deeper, please..." The man didn't need to be spurred: he loved that boy, so readily available, so passionately participating, so different from other boys he had had, who always pretended they needed to be convinced, prayed, begged... No, this boy wanted it as much, if no more, than Donald wanted it. And the man loved this feeling. That boy so readily available, and yet so clean, nothing perverse or rotten in him, nothing harlot-like as some other boys where. His radiant smile, showing joy through the pleasure, filled the young man of a similar joy. And he rode the compliant fresh body with a mix of astonishment and gratitude, doing his best to give him at least as much pleasure as he was getting from him... The boy was participating with intense will. All his body. All his enthusiasm. He was acutely aware that this was real lovemaking. Nothing to compare with the three boys he had taken before. When he felt the man tensing, understanding that he was approaching orgasm, instinctively, for nobody had taught him that, he rose a little to be able to bring his lips on the man chest, and gently chewed his nipple. This heightened the man's orgasm. He clenched the boy in his arms, pushing his hot throbbing rod even deeper and erupted with gallons of hot lava-like sperm, moaning a deep and sweet litany: "Oh, Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy..." And the boy suddenly came also, emptying himself in an endless rapture of spasms, unloaded all his seed between their compressed bodies. They lay panting, covered in sweet sweat, their bodies still tightly intertwined, then kissed deeply again. As they were regaining control, Jeremy said in a whisper, "I love you, Donald." The man was moved by these sincere words, and felt that he too was falling in love with this splendid boy. So he murmured in answer, "I love you too, my boy!" This was the beginning of their passionate romance. It was not always easy to find time or the occasion to be alone and to continue their love meetings, but with the astuteness that often two passionate but secret lovers have, they managed to give vent to their mutual desire. Yet the second time they secretly met, Donald asked his boy to take him, and Jeremy felt the intoxicating joy of having his turn inside his beloved man. One of the things that made a great difference to that of his previous experiences was the long preliminaries and post-plays they had when making love. To Jeremy those moments had the same value as those of the long lovemaking sessions. The only one problem the boy had was that he felt jealous of Donald's wife. However, he never mentioned it to his man, respecting his choices and his husband's duties. He contented himself in the fact that Donald was really in love with him. He loved every inch of his beautiful man, every fold of the young minister personality. And he really adored the way Donald was making love to him. His tender passion, his virile gentleness, his strength and kindness. And he was very fond of the man's virile rod. He had now adjusted to it's size and could receive it without the faintest pain. He just took with bliss and sheer joy. He loved to smell it, to lick it, to feel it in his throat, to savour it, to drink the abundant, intoxicating nectar it gave him. He loved to receive it in his deepest recess, to open his channel welcoming it, to feel it brushing his young prostate, to hammer in him with unchanged passion even after months of their splendid relationship. He loved to kiss and to be kissed by his man, the long tongue playing, the warm lips searching his lips, the gentle biting and sucking they exchanged in a dreamlike passion. He loved it when his man offered himself for penetration. To feel welcomed inside that worshipped body was something that words cannot explain. Similarly, when his man asked him to be allowed to drink his love wine, and when quenching his man's passion's thirst giving him all his seed to the last drop, he felt that he was indeed in paradise. Seldom they were able to secretly meet more than twice per week and they cherished those moments. But even when they met in public, an underground current, a secret way of communication tied them, and even those moments were precious. That summer, Donald's wife went in on journey abroad with her parents. They too took the opportunity to go for a short trip together for five days, from Monday to Friday. They spent the entire five days closed in their hotel room, making love, breaking their love making only for meals. Jeremy had to buy a city guide, so that he would be able to tell the others of the wonderful things he was presumed to have seen but which he had not. In those five days, even though they made love non-stop, they seemed never to be able to fully sate each other. But then, 1990 came. It had been two years since they had started their relationship and they began to plan how to manage and to strengthen it, to make it more sure and more stable. Donald was thinking about divorcing his wife. Jeremy, even if he never really loved studying, was thinking about entering the theological school, in order to be able to work with his man and to remain with him forever. But one evening, news put the congregation in consternation. While Donald was coming back from a diocese synod held in the nearby city, a teamster lost control of his truck caused by a blowout. The truck ran into the minister's car pushing it down the nearby precipice. The car tumbled several times until it crashed onto the rocks and caught fire. Donald was killed... Jeremy went into such shock, that for almost a month he was hospitalised, unable even to talk. He recovered, but the loss for him was too great. After some months his body started to feel the need for sex once more. But because of his sadness and the difficulty of finding a mate, he found little opportunity to give vent to his real need. After one year of no lovemaking, the desire was now burning in his flesh, stronger then ever. He was craving sex, even just a one-night stand, but he needed the contact with another male body. His own hand was no more sufficient. Not at his age, not after all the wonderful lovemaking he had experienced. So, he was going back home, immersed in those feelings, thinking he had perhaps to find a pretext to go in the city where he had heard there were places, like movie theatres or saunas, where males meet for sex. He knew that there where guides giving addresses for that, even on the Internet. Yes, he had to look for information, he had to do something to break his loneliness or he would go crazy. He was passing through the narrow passageway between the old Bank and the Post Office, both deserted at that time, when somebody barred his way. He looked and saw a skinhead who was looking straight at him, balancing a chain in his hand. He stopped and looked at the youth, feeling a little worried but not yet really scared. For a short while both continued to stare at each other. Then the skinhead, said, "Gimme a smoke." "So... sorry, but I don't smoke..." Jeremy uncertain answered. "Shit! Gimme some money, then." "I've no money on me. Just coming back from football training..." "You trying to play dumb?" "No, for real." "What do you have in that bag?" "Just sports gear..." "Lemme see..." the skinhead said grasping Jeremy sack. He didn't oppose the command. The other opened the sack and emptied all the content on the pavement. "Shit, shit, shit! No fags, no booze, no girls, I'm coming crazy, tonight. Sure you have no money?" "Would you check? Search me?" Jeremy said hoping to have the right tone not to challenge the other. "Yeah, sure!" the skinhead said and closing to the boy, searched him. His hand rested on Jeremy basket. Jeremy was startled, but the other took away his hand and took a step back. "Well, there is one thing you can do to make this night less boring." "What?" Jeremy asked not being able to guess what the other had in mind. "Knell down." "What?" the boy asked widening his eyes. "Knell down" the other coldly repente, balancing again his chain. Jeremy knelt. The skinhead approached him again, standing right in front of him, not more than a few inches from the boy. "Open my fly, and gimme head." the skinhead said with a blank voice, not menacing, not sneering. Jeremy was pleasantly startled. Was this the answer to his burning desire? Even if he was apparently forced to perform this act, he felt quite a surge of joy in him. The skinhead, even if the lane was quite dark, seemed handsome, young, no more than a few years older than him... Wasn't that just incredible luck? "I said..." the skinhead started to say with a hard voice. "Yes... yes..." Jeremy answered hoping not to show his eagerness, took with his hands to the other's belt buckle. He recognized the dragon! He felt twice lucky! This was the skinhead with whom he had several times fancied he could have sex with, and was now asking him to give him head! He feverishly opened the belt, the first button, lowered the zip, fumbled in the skinhead's trousers and pulled out an already half turgid smooth cock. He felt his mouth watering. He neared his face to the beautiful peace of meat throbbing in his hand and inhaled the strong male smell... intoxicating! "Go on, I haven't all the night!" the other ordered, interpreting the slowness of the boy as resistance. Jeremy brought his head a little closer, putting out his tongue and started licking the pulsating rod. "Good boy! Go on..." the other said, pleased. Jeremy gently bit the meat, licked, lapped, kissed it, and finally let it's tip slide between his lips. It was good, firm, fresh, hot meat! He sucked the rod, while accepting it all, slowly, in his mouth, until his nose was pressed in the thick brush and the tip of the cock was tickling his uvula, while with his hands, caressed the other's pubis and kneaded his firm balls. "That's it! Suck that meat, yeah!" the skinhead said, pleased. Jeremy loved that sensation, loved that musky smell, the scent of manliness. He was filled with good vibrations. Yes, he thought, I will give him an orgasm he will never forget. He did his best to please that youth who thought of nothing else other than his own pleasure. "Yeah, that's it... go on... yeah... suck me meat..." the skinhead was almost yelling with growing pleasure. "Take it all... yeah. Deep into your throat! Yeah all! All of it!" The skinhead started to shake, at first slightly, then more and more violently, when at last he shot his load in a set of wild contractions, yelling at each shot, "Drink it! ... Take it! ... All my spunk! ...Drink! ... Yeah! ... All of it! ... Good! ... Yeaaaaaah!" Jeremy thought that it was sweet, tasty, good... he needed that... he was happy... at last! The skinhead took a couple of paces back pulling his dick from the boy's eager mouth. He put it back in his trousers and closed them, looking at Jeremy still knelling. Without a word, the skinhead turned and started to walk away. Jeremy, still a little dizzy from the rapid and intense interchange that had just happened, began standing. The other turned back again and asked: "By the way, what's ya name?" "Jeremy." "Don't like that name. Jerry's better. That's not your first time, right?" Jeremy didn't answer, not sure of what to say. The other seemed not to care and continued, "I'm Derek, but everybody calls me Drake. Se you soon, boy!" and rapidly as he had appeared, continued his way. Jeremy put back all his gear in the sack, and resumed his way back home, still savouring the good taste of the skinhead sperm. His member was pushing urgently against his trousers, completely hard. He stopped again, leaned against a wall, opened his fly and started to wank, recalling the pleasurable cock he had had in his mouth for a few, intense minutes. Within what seemed like seconds, his seed was flying high and splashed in a silent pearl-like arch. "Oh, Drake, I hope to meet you soon... I really hope..." he said at half voice. He tucked his dick back into his trousers and wended his way home. ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------