This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is coincidental. This story contains graphic sex between males, plus guns, violence, fire, alcohol, drugs, prayer and many other cautionary things. Don't read if you're under age where you live or are offended by this type of material. Don't post this anywhere without asking my permission.

Comments very welcome! Email me at: or join my Yahoo group for free at: to keep up with this and my other stories, like Tutoring Jerry. Aaaaand, my old Geocities site (with nude pics of Tutoring Jerry characters, some of my poetry and personal pics etc) didn't die with the Geocities demise because WebRing picked it up. But the homepage, with links to the other pages and other sites, is in cyber vacuum while I figure out how to rebuild it-- and WebRing doesn't make it easy like Geo did. But the other seven pages are still there at: and my old page one is now the homepage.

For those familiar with Tutoring Jerry, this story is nothing like it. While this is ultimately a love story, including romance, it's not exactly a tender romantic fling, more like drunken Friday night redneck mud wrestling :-) Enjoy!

Jamie Larsten


Here I sit, looking at the hearts and initials carved into the sticky wooden bar at the Powder Keg, yet again contemplating leaving this hell-hole of a town. I picture myself seeing the "Entering Angel Hills, population 760 (and falling)" sign in my rear view mirror as I stick my hand out the window and flip a fond farewell birdie to my birthplace.

My favorite fantasy is the one where I meet this hunky guy and we fall in love and I'm sitting in his lap-- maybe with his dick in my ass-- yelling 'FUCK YOU ALL!' as we drive our escape route through town, laughing at the shocked looks on the good folks' faces.

When I do leave, I'm pretty sure I'll never want to come back, even to visit my family. Hell, they wouldn't want me to come back if they ever learned what I am. And I think, or at least fantasize, that if I lived in the city, St. Louis, Chicago, (gasp) San Francisco, wherever, I would come out and be able to live an open life. Scary shit to think about, but it's mostly all I think about these days.

I might even tell them-- from the safety of great distance-- by letter, or phone, or Christmas card, "Hello Mom, Dad, just thought I'd let you know the reason you were never quite proud of me, the reason I never lived up to your expectations and disappointed you on an everyday basis my whole life, is because I'm a fucking faggot. That's right! You always knew it somehow, but you didn't want to admit it. Well, I suck cock and take it up the ass and I hate you all with every fiber of my being for making me hate myself and hide from being me. I only sometimes hate you, April (my sister), but I love you, Andy (my brother) and probably wouldn't be alive to write this if it weren't for you. Anyway, have a merry fucking Christmas Mom and Dad, I hope you choke and die on Aunt Velma's shitty fruitcake. Love, Jamie." I'll probably never have the courage to do that, but who knows?

My reverie was interrupted by Allie Mae Gearherd and Sheila Van Tusen plopping their childbearing hips down, leaving just one empty stool between me and them.

'What the fuck? There's nine or ten empty stools at the bar. Why the hell you planting yourselves down here by me?' I wondered, annoyed. But I knew why they're sitting way down here. They wanted to talk about the men they're cheating on their husbands with, and not let anyone hear them over the jukebox, playing Ray Price's classic, For The Good Times.

I don't count. I'm safe. I don't get involved in any of the soap operas of the fine upstanding citizens of Angel Hills. I don't want to. All these God fearing Lutherans, sprinkled with Baptists and Pentecostals, all fucking around on each other, fifty percent alcoholics, many wife and child abusers, even a few drug addicts, all standing up in church on Sunday singing about God and Jesus and America and the flag and love it or leave it; but don't let a nigger or a fag cross the county line-- they're just not part of God's plan. Andy told me about the sign that used to be at each end of town: "Nigger don't let the sun go down on you in Angel Hills" that came down in the summer of love-- not that love had anything to do with it. There are still no blacks in town.

"Wassup, Jamie. I saw April with Ben Sanderman over in Lebanon last week at Jimbo's Grill. If she thinks nobody knows she's seein' him, she's sadly mistaken, ya know." She arched her eyebrows and gave her best 'busted!' look.

I retorted, "I don't care if she's sleepin' with his daddy and his dog, Allie Mae, I don't even try t' keep up with all the guys she fucks." I scowled and took a long drink of my beer.

That was enough of a pleasant response for her to turn to Sheila and carry on as if I were never there. But the reason they had come down to this end to talk, was because it was impossible for these two to talk quietly. They were just loud, nasty-legged honky tonk girls. Allie Mae was pretty and Sheila was ok lookin', but they only had a few more years before their days of men begging for their asses was over, when they would get too fat in the hips and their alcoholism took its toll.

So I heard every word they said as they carried on about their newest target, Justin somebody, who I'd seen somewhere before, and was pretty sure he was from Lebanon. I was so tempted to blow their minds and say `Yeah, he is a hot looking dude, ain't he? Looks like he'd have a big dick, too.' Then I had an odd feeling in my gut that these two would think it was a hoot to talk about guys with me. That forever nixed that idea. Then Allie Mae abruptly changed to,

"But of course you know Jake won't talk t' me now, after Buck kicked his ass at Bebe's last night." Her `night' coming out sounding like `nat', grating on my last nerve.

"Well I heard all about it from Jimmy. He was right there in the big middle of it," Sheila gushed. "He helped the others take Jake down when he broke the beer bottle and started t' go for Buck after Buck had done kicked his ass and walked away. What a fag that boy is." Sheila shook her head.

"Oh girl, I knooow!" Allie Mae brayed. "But he's my cousin and thought he was doin' the right thang by me, cuz Buck was talkin' shit, disin' me, you know how he is."

"Well he may talk shit, but boy howdy can that boy fuck!"

"What, you tellin' me?!" Allie Mae worked her head like a sista and smirked, spreading her hands to show about ten inches between them. "And that ain't all, darlin', he goes downtown like a man possessed! Mmm mm!"

"Oh, don't even remind me, girrrrl! Remember, I'm the one who tol' you 'bout how good he was with that snake he calls a tongue." Both of them gave all the appropriate head tilting, hands up and eye rolling gestures to confirm agreement with each other on this oh so tasty subject.

Well, that sent me back into my head, shutting out the rest of their conversation just as I heard Allie Mae saying something about her husband Dan smashing a bottle of Lite beer against her framed print of Garth Brooks and threatening to cut her throat if he found out for sure she was fucking Buck, blah, blah, blah...

Ahhhhh, Buck. Buck Tennyson. Goddammit, why did they have to bring him up anyway? Probably the main reason there's any business here in this dump, besides the seven or eight raggedy old men and women who're here every damn day of their lives, is people staying away from Bebe's to avoid Buck Tennyson, like Allie Mae, like Sheila, like me, and at least one or two more women in my field of vision-- and when I thought about it, there were a couple of young guys I knew that, who knows, maybe they were refugees from Buck Tennyson too...

What's it been, almost a year since he... God, I can't count the times I've played it all over and fucking over in my head.

Ray was singing, "Lay your head, upon my pillow. Hold your warm and tender body, close to mine. Hear the whisper, of the raindrops, falling soft, against the window, and make believe you love me, one more time... For the good times."

I've known him all my life. Well, I was around him all my life. He's four years older than me, so I never hung out with him or nothing, but I remember how, when I was about fourteen and realized I liked boys, he was a senior and on the basketball team cuz he's so tall and so damn good looking and it was my first crush. (Ok, I know looks have nothing to do with being on the team.) I'd go to every game, and every practice to watch him, stare at him and fantasize about him and me. I lived to get him to look at me, to turn that dazzling smile on me, and those cobalt blue eyes, dark blue heaven. Everytime he did talk to me, I just about creamed my jeans.

I wasn't around him much at all after he graduated, so my lust gradually focused on others, like Scooter. Scooter Anderson was my best friend from sixth grade through eleventh. We did everything together. It was one of those close friendships where we were together so much I called his mom Mom, and he did likewise with mine.

We were the first in our school to go punk, when we were seventeen, and got the shit beat out of us more than once because of it, even though the way we dressed was nothing compared to what we saw on MTV. But the thing was, we did it together. We did everything together.

We did drugs all we could, and because of my closet, my frustrations and my home life, I put a very low premium on my life, doing a lot of stupid and dangerous things over the next couple of years. For just one example: driving naked and wasted at 90mph down County Line Road with one foot on the steering wheel and my hands on my cock and balls, with Scooter naked and nearly passed out laughing in the passenger seat in the middle of the afternoon, shit like that.

We got called faggot all the time because of our clothes, spiked hair and earrings, but I could never dream of actually admitting being one. I would probably have been killed if I had. Me and Scooter played with each other and jacked each other off fairly regularly. Then one night we were drunk and stoned and sucked each other off in the shed behind his house. He got Pentecostal regret the next day and I told him he was a closet case-- cuz he'd been the one to instigate it, and it seemed like he got into it almost more than I did-- hoping he'd admit it, then I would admit I was too.

But it backfired and he freaked out, so I went ahead and admitted I was and he rejected me, violently. So we instantly ended our friendship. At least I knew even that day that he would never tell anyone I was queer, because everyone knew me and him were together all the time up to that point, and they'd naturally assume he did whatever I did. Though I don't want his friendship anymore, after the way he handled that, I do wish he could admit to himself what his tendencies are. He even stopped doing the punk style and ended up dating Betty Scribner and getting married right after high school. So, because I was gay, and figured he was, I lost the only real friend I ever had.

So my first year after school was spent trying to do myself in with booze and drugs and stupidity. My dad beat the shit out of me regularly for being useless and stupid-- which I was-- and I drove my car into a tree, landing me in the hospital almost dead, for a month and a half. I actually did die, technically, and they brought me back. I thought a lot during that time and decided to cut down on my self-destructive habits-- not cut them out altogether-- and decided I would save up and get the hell out of here.

So after my long recovery, Dad, happy to get me out of the house, got me a job at my uncle Carl's Lumber yard-- working with Buck. I became a model employee. I wanted to keep that job so I could be around him. It was so awesome, because he treated me like an adult, like he liked me, when no one else did.

I fell in love with him all over again. I would just watch him and drool. I realized later that he was very aware of my condition. He played to it, he'd pose, he'd get aroused and make it plenty visible for me when it was just us. And I looked every chance I got. I fantasized about him every single night.

I was so conditioned to hide my feelings, to absolutely never make the first move, we skirted around the issue for months. I was too stupid to pick up on his sometimes direct come-ons, thinking he was just joking with me. I didn't think he was bi. I knew he got laid by all kinds of women all the fucking time; that's pretty much all he talked about. I started hanging out at Bebe's when Buck told me she doesn't check ID's unless you look way too young or act stupid. Anyway, I'd see him hit on women, especially married women, and leave with them on a regular basis; so I just couldn't conceive of him wanting to do anything with a guy, with little ol' outcast me.

At some point, he got tired of dragging it out I guess, and he started working the situation. One really hot July afternoon, we were moving plywood. He took off his shirt and flexed his muscles and stretched, then reached down and scratched his nuts and kept his hand there. He knew I was watching him and put his other hand on his stomach, rubbing it slowly around in the sweat, up on his gorgeous chest, making me tingle. He looked like a dream, a fantasy man from some Shania Twain video, too hot and sexy for this state.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, "So how come you never have a girlfriend?"

I was stunned speechless. I hadn't expected anything like that! I blushed crimson, the heat making me dizzy. "Uhhhhhhh..."

He stood there slowly rubbing his stomach and chest, getting a kick out of my squirming and blushing, "You mean t' tell me, as young as you are, you already know better than to get hooked by one?" He smiled a knowing smile at giving me an obvious way out.

I mumbled, "Yeah... I guess so," refusing to meet his gaze.

He squeezed his cock through his Levi's and kinda pointed at my hair with his free hand. "So, I been wonderin', what does the spiked and bleached hair and all those earrings mean?"


"Well, like, does it say you're a hip-hopper? A punk? Straight? Gay? What?"

Oh my God, I couldn't believe he'd asked me something like that! "Uhhhhhhhhh... well, it don't really mean any particular thing. It's just a s-s-style," I stammered. And I wasn't about to respond to the sexuality question at all.

"Oh." He thought for a moment, "You do drugs, though, right? I know ya do, you've talked about it before."

"Hell yeah-- but not as much as I used to."

"Can you get exstasy? I hear about it all the time, but don't know where to get it. I read somethin' on the net about it's great for sex."

"Uhh, yeah... I can get it, but it's twenty-five bucks a hit."

"For ONE?!"

"Yeah. That's the goin' price for X these days out here in the sticks."

"Fuck! It must be one helluva trip!"

"Yeah, well, it is if you're like, at a rave. Like, the techno music kinda makes it work, y'know?"

He contemplated that concept for a moment. "Any raves around here?"

I smirked. "Oh yeah, every Tuesday at Trinity Lutheran in the day care room!" I spouted sarcastically and laughed.

He laughed too, then thought for a moment more, "Well, do you have any cd's of rave music?"

"Oh yeah," I nodded my head smugly. "I got a few."

"Well then I got a plan. If you can get us some exstasy, you can bring it over my house and we'll make a rave right there in my living room. I got a helluva stereo system, and we can crank it up as loud as we want, cuz I got no neighbors for miles. I've just been wantin' to try it."

"Oh, man, that'd be awesome!" I gushed, getting very excited. I actually forgot his attaching sex to ecstasy in his comments at that moment.

"How soon can ya get it?"

I furrowed my brow, "Umm, tomorrow, maybe. I hafta go to Lebanon to get it."

"That's cool. So, how `bout we plan for a rave, Friday night at Disco Buck?"



I was so damn excited and in such a hurry, I got a fucking speeding ticket on the way to Lebanon the next day. Needless to say, I drove very cautiously back, with four hits of exstasy in the trunk-- I wanted two on hand for another time.

It seemed like it took six months for Friday to arrive. He told me to come over at seven, and I showed up at a quarter til. I laughed so hard when he opened the door. He had spiked his hair with gel or mousse, and was wearing what he thought was rave attire-- half right, with the cargo pants, but a dorky pullover shirt that lost all the effect. But as my laughter subsided, I realized he'd actually gone to some trouble to get into it for me, and I thought that was really cool; so I made him think my laughter was just because it was him, a redneck doing it, not because of the way he looked. And even in those clothes and that attempt at a spike, he looked fucking hot!

I told him it takes anywhere from fifteen to forty-five minutes for it to hit you, so we drank some bourbon & coke and sorted through my cd's. He really seemed to like the music, though he couldn't quite get the hang of dancing to it at first-- cuz it wasn't exactly boot scootin' music. I tried to show him how `we' did it and he copied me pretty well.

About the time I started feeling the exstasy, he said he was feeling something too. He moved the sofa back against the kitchen bar so we could really move around and he started getting the hang of dancing to the hypnotic music, with its high energy beat.

He had the stereo cranked up very loud, so I tiptoed up into him and tried to speak in his ear, "I forgot to tell ya, the way this usually works is, ya get a big `up' rush for a while, then ya get a `down' rush for a while, then ya kinda go into a middle ground. It's hard to explain, but you'll see what I mean."

He nodded his head and started moving around the room spinning, arms going every which way. I was getting off to watching him so much I forgot to notice my cock getting hard.

When the cd ended, I went to change it and he stood in the middle of the room as if frozen. The moment the music started, he began a wild dance all over the room.

"YEAH! I REALLY LIKE THAT ONE!" he yelled over the music, pointing to the stereo, indicating the William Orbit I was playing.

We both danced like wildmen around the room, then he started slamming me. I wasn't about to explain that this wasn't punk or oi!, as I wanted the body contact with him. He accidentally knocked me into the stereo cabinet and rushed over to see if I was alright, apologizing profusely. I told him I was fine, but let him hold me against him from behind and to the side the way he'd grabbed me. He was sweating and he smelled incredibly good to me.

We took a little break when the cd ended. "Man, this is such a fuckin' fantastic feeling! It was worth $25.!" He raised his hands in the air, "Every fucking penny!"

I had a laughing fit at that, and of course it was contagious. We ended up slumped together in the middle of the floor, hanging on to each other laughing.

"Man, the music is so, so, full of energy! And my body feels so, exotic!" He was feeling around his chest and stomach sensuously.

"Yeah, that's a good word for the feeling!" I enthused. "Check this old school out..." I put in a cd of Jean Michel Jarre and we resumed dancing.

We went wild and started slamdancing again, but much gentler than they do it in clubs. After a few minutes, I saw him bouncing in one spot, more like jiggling, then all of a sudden he got this crazy look in his eyes and started ripping his clothes off. Literally. He shredded his shirt, and ripped it in places he didn't even need to, to get it off-- he was just enjoying ripping it up. My cock again went rigid and drooling in seconds as his hardbody was revealed.

I just stayed in place dancing, freaking totally out that he was doing this, and trying not to stare as he did his frenetic striptease. He tried to rip his cargo pants off, but could only get them to rip down the ass. He almost looked like he was panicking that he couldn't get the elastic in the waistband to rip, and finally just shoved them and his boxers down and off, dislodging his running shoes in the same frenzy.

When he stood back up in all his naked glory, I just about came in my pants. He stood so proud, like a god, inviting all to worship his magnificence. He didn't move a muscle, dwelling somewhere in his head for the moment. I was still as stone, staring, my erection visible in my pants if he happened to look. The beat was thumping my chest, but I couldn't move, mesmerized by the vision of my lifelong desire, poised mere feet away from my astonished eyes.

I drank in the sight and etched it into my brain. I'd seen his dick both soft and somewhat aroused in his jeans plenty, but that didn't prepare me for the stunning sight before my eyes. I had looked at a fair amount of straight porn on the net with my brother Andy, on his computer-- I didn't have one-- and had never seen this big a dick except on black men, and it wasn't even hard.

Momentarily, he broke from his spell and looked at me. A grin started and spread from ear to ear and his blue eyes sparkled. Then he started dancing again, but stopped after a moment, giving me a look and hand gestures like `Well, are you gonna get naked too, or what?'

He yelled over the music, jerking me out of my trance, "Clothes are a drag! It feels so real without them!" and nodded his head to encourage me.

Well. I was between a rock and a hardon. I wanted to get butt naked with Buck Tennyson more than anything in the fucking world! BUT, I had a hardon that would not go down. I was panicking. I looked at his cock and judged he wasn't obviously aroused-- even though it hung so long and thick it was bigger than most cocks fully hard-- but looking made my cock throb even more intently. I wasn't about to take my pants off and let him see my raging boner!

I took my shirt off and did an `I'm shy' pose to say I wasn't taking my pants off, giggled, and resumed dancing, trying to figure out what to do. He looked at me strangely, then started dancing too. I figured if I danced for a couple of minutes without looking at him, my woodie might go down and I would go ahead and take my pants off too. I didn't think about what would happen once I got them off, that I'd probably just get hard again.

So I danced around with my back to him for a bit. All of a sudden, my cargo pants were down around my ankles. He'd just come up behind me and pulled them and my briefs down too fast for me to react. He bounced up and down, moving around me laughing, his huge rhythm-stick bouncing joyously free all over his thighs, stomach and down under his heavy bouncing nuts, easily slapping his own ass with it.

I thought, `Well, the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, I might as well go with it.' So I started jumping up and down, with my pants around my ankles, hardon slapping my belly as I jumped. Buck was laughing hysterically as he jumped, circling me slowly. I was red with embarrassment, but had such a euphoria going I didn't let it distract me from laughing along with him.

When I lost my balance and fell to my knees, I decided to take the pants and shoes off, so I sat in the middle of the floor and watched him bounce around me while I removed my shackles. The second I stood and started dancing again, he started slamming again-- but it had a whole new dimension to it now that we were both naked. It felt so, I don't know, tribal?

And sexy, very sexy. My cock was raging hard, even with the frenzied movement and bouncing. I noticed Buck started filling out more too, and he seemed to prefer slamming my backside then pushing me forward. And he was so much bigger than I, he would scoot me across the room, rubbing his dick on my tailbone and ass, before moving away.

I was in heaven! Dancing naked with the man I'd fantasized about for years rubbing his aroused cock against my ass, thinking this had to be leading to something sexual. Yeah, X in general, with music like this, would tempt most people to get naked and dance, but it wouldn't give them hardons while doing it.

When he would scoot me across the floor from behind, I started flipping around and pushing back against him, stomach to stomach-- well stomach to groin, since he was so much taller than me-- and that ground his ever growing dick into my stomach while mine jabbed at his thighs. He'd let me push him backwards, in the spirit of the dance, since he could very easily hold ground if he wanted to.

Then I pushed him back against the edge of the sofa and he grabbed at me to keep from falling, pulling me into an embrace, but we fell laughing onto the sofa anyway. He was still holding me in his arms as we laid out and our laughter subsided. Here we were, me laying on top of him, his humongous, nearly hard organ beside mine, pressed between our bellies.

I saw the look of `What now?' in his eyes, that I'm sure reflected the same look in mine. Shit, I didn't know what to do! I was counting on him knowing and showing the way!

"Guess we both needed a breather, huh?" He still had his arms around my back, holding me down on him, my elbows in his sweaty armpits.

"Yeah," I agreed, and thought, `But what about our hard dicks crushed between us? Did you happen to notice that too?' I watched the transition in his eyes from the rush of dancing energetically to what looked to me like he was considering the same things I was.

"I'm fine right here," he said kinda husky voiced, glancing down to where my nearly flat pecs met his firm, rounded, manly, hunky, perfect dream set of pecs. And I mean Buck Tennyson had the most perfect chest in the county, in my humble opinion.

"Me too. Just fine. Right here." I blushed at my forwardness and studied his shoulder nervously.

"I think I like this better than dancing." He grinned and let his hand wander down my back toward my ass cheeks.

I was scared as hell, could hardly believe this was happening-- but it damn sure was. Even in my extremely limited experience, I knew damn well I was in a sexual situation, and his eyes told me that was exactly what it was we were in. Oh my fucking god. YES! I was trembling, heart racing, but ready to go for it, "Yeah... this is way better than dancing." I smiled shyly, lips twitching uncontrollably and sticking to my teeth.

He brought one hand to my neck and held it, while pushing down on my ass with the other, "Way better," he mumbled, pulling my head down to his to kiss me lightly on the lips, then releasing his hold. I raised my head and looked him in the eye.

I was just having a really hard time accepting that this was actually happening-- things never work out this well for me! I just never get things I really, really want. But it was happening. Not only was it happening, but he was the one instigating it-- and not being shy about it either. I boldly brought my lips back to his and snaked my tongue in between them. He welcomed it and sucked it gently into his mouth to spar with his, while he kneaded my ass cheeks and hunched up into me.

I was fully engrossed in the moment, every slight movement we made, every nuance of his lips and tongue, his hot mass of powerful flexing muscles underneath me, his huge cock twitching insistently at my stomach; but I was also thinking back on all the years I'd loved him and fantasized about him, and the last few months working together and how I'd been wishing just that one dream would come true for me. Just that one, and I had sworn if it did I'd never ask for anything else, ever again in my life. And here it was, coming true.

Horny as I was, as much as I wanted to dive on his cock, I didn't want to break the kiss. It felt like the kiss meant he was into me, not just wanting to get it on. I honestly could have stopped after the kiss and gone home floating on air-- forget the ecstasy, this was outdoing it for sensation in every way, although I'm sure the X was heightening the physical sensations, cuz it just does that.

When he let our lips part, it was to kiss my eyes and trail around my cheeks and jaw, holding the back of my head. I kissed and nibbled at his ear and whispered, "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this, Buck. Since High school."

"Really? Is that why you used to come to all my basketball practices?" he pulled my head back to look in my eyes.

"You remember that? You actually noticed me there?"

"Yeah, I noticed you. I didn't know why you were always there, but I noticed you staring at me a lot." He chuckled, "But back then I... Well, let's just say, I didn't have a proper appreciation for half the population." His cock twitched and he gave an evil boyish grin that made my heart flutter.

I speculated, "Man, if you'd had that `appreciation' for me then, I can't imagine how different my life would've gone, the things I would've done differently. I was so in love with you." I got a little melancholy and I guess it showed in my eyes.

"I know you've been through a lotta shit, Jamie. I remember Carl thought you were gonna die when you had that car wreck, and how him and your dad both thought you kinda did it on purpose." He didn't respond to my saying I was in love with him.

"Well... I didn't have much goin' for me then." I mumbled, "I just kinda didn't care what happened."

As usual, when the subject came up, I involuntarily had to watch the video in my mind. It always started with me throwing the empty whiskey bottle out the window and noticing the road got very bumpy all of a sudden as I looked in front of me and saw the tall weeds bowing to my bumper, and then deciding, `That one looks good as any.' as that tree headed at me at 50mph in slow motion, watching the second the front of my car folded itself around the trunk as my face hit the windshield. Then nothingness, blackness, then the light in the distance, Gramma smiling with her arms stretched out to me, then the electric jolt as the doctor shouted at nurses, frantically grabbing at instruments while I tried unsuccessfully to tell them not to bother...

He traced my eyebrow with his fingertip. "There's always somethin' to live for, Jamie."

I looked in his eye and thought for a moment. I smiled crookedly, "Well, I just now found that out... but I didn't know it back then."

He smiled understanding at me and after a moment of silence, motioned for me to get up. I became very nervous again as he took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. We stood beside the bed and he enveloped me in his arms, feeling my ass while I felt his strong back muscles working with his arm movements. I was fighting back tears of excitement and happiness at just being held so tightly against his big amazing body.

He leaned down and kissed my neck, sending shivers all over my body. "Ever done anything with a guy?" he asked softly in my ear.

"Ummm, once." I figured he was wanting to know if I'd ever been fucked, "I sucked Sc-- this guy once."

"That's all you done?"

"Yeah." I felt his huge cock lurch against my stomach at my answer and I got scared. I knew I was about to get fucked for the first time, and it was going to be with the biggest cock I'd ever seen. I was having second thoughts-- big time-- as I looked around his bedroom, picturing him in the big unmade bed, fucking some woman while she cried out in ecstasy, picturing him just waking up on any given morning, pee-hard jutting into the air, sneaking the image of me waking up next to him in there, trying it on for size.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah." I was trembling uncontrollably and rushing and my breath was making noises in my throat.

"Do you wanna do more?" He sounded so fucking sexy, with his deep voice in my ear, so confident and in control, making me tingle on top of all the other symptoms of lust and fear.

I managed to squeak out, "More than anything... with you." Scared or not, I'd wanted this way too much and way too long to back out now that it was actually happening. I pulled back and looked up at him with watery eyes, "But I'm... scared." I took a deep breath. "You're so big."

"Ohhh, Jamie," he pulled my face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, "Don't be scared. You're trembling so..." He stroked up and down my back, sending tingles all through me. "Relax, baby, I won't hurt you." His voice was so deep and comforting it did take away some of my trembling. "I'll make it feel so good you'll never wanna stop."

"But, but, it's gotta hurt!" I whined as I buried my face in his neck and inhaled his scent, making my cock and ass both twitch.

"Well yeah, it always hurts some at first, for anyone, but once ya get used to it, it'll be the best thing you've ever felt in your life." He pulled my head away from his neck and kissed me tenderly. "Trust me?"

It was hard to form words around my ragged breath. "Yeah."

"Be my baby?" He kissed my forehead, holding my head with both hands.

"Yes... yes." I inhaled his breath and kissed his chin.

He pulled my head back to look in my eyes and said, "I've been wantin' this for a long time, too."

My legs were like rubber already, so when he relaxed his grip on me, I sank to my knees in front of him. His cock was dripping with power and masculinity and testosterone and everything I'd always wanted. It was so fucking huge in my vision that I almost started crying again with a mix of fear and anticipation. I brought my trembling hand to it and finally got to hold the focus of all my dreams and fantasies. I held it at the base and my finger couldn't quite meet my thumb around it. I squeezed as I pulled my hand toward my face and precum issued from its slit, hanging down several inches.

Assuming I should, I cautiously dipped and caught the end of the string on the tip of my tongue, following it to its source, where I scooped it out of the deep slit and rolled it around on my tongue. I had tasted and swallowed my own and Scooter's cum, and I suppose I'd tasted his precum that night, but I was not prepared for how much I loved tasting Buck's. I'm sure it was because I had wanted this to happen with him so badly for so long, and what he'd just said, that just this one erotic thing, catching and licking up his precum and tonguing his slit had me almost cumming without touching myself.

I pulled back to look at it again, and saw my tongue was connected to his cock by still more of the viscous clear honey and spit. He moaned with pleasure at the sight of the connecting string, and maybe at my look of lust and wonder. I sucked it in like spaghetti, following it to the big flared head, pushed my lips onto it and entered heaven as it entered my mouth.

And it filled my mouth to overflowing as I sucked in inch after inch. It was so thick and wide it hit my teeth on the sides. I remembered Scooter telling me to `watch the teeth' when I was sucking him that night, but I couldn't prevent Buck's shaft from hitting the sides. I just hoped they didn't scratch him.

He took my head in his hands again and started pumping slowly in and out. I was grateful that he took over, because I didn't know what I was doing, really, and I just knew I wanted him to take total control. It was instinct. I wanted to offer myself to him in every way possible. I wanted him asserting his maleness over me, feeding me his sex, his maleness, making me give him pleasure.

"Oh yeah, like that." He flexed his cock in my mouth and asked, "Is this what you been wantin' all this time, baby?" I nodded my head and moaned on his shaft. "You love my daddy dick?" I nodded some more and moaned even louder.

If ever there was one, this was a daddy dick, and he fed it to me tenderly, pressing it to the back of my throat.

"Feel my balls, baby," he moaned.

I reached up and cupped them in my hand and thrilled to the weight of them, rolling them around and pulling down. He withdrew his cock from my mouth and stood it up against his belly, "Lick `em, baby. Suck on `em."

I took one in my mouth and thrilled to this new sensation, going back and forth between them, licking underneath when I'd let one slip out to search for the other in the wrinkly sac. The smell of his sweaty groin was making me lose myself in it more and more as I sucked and nudged them with my nose and ground my face into them and the base of his cock. I actually thought, `My face belongs here, in his crotch. This is heaven, pure and simple.'

He pulled back, aimed his shaft at my mouth and I opened up to take it back in-- but he held it just out of reach, holding my hair in his fist so I couldn't get to it.

My mouth was gaping open and my tongue stretched out toward the tip and I wanted it so bad and I didn't know why he was holding back and I needed it so bad and why wouldn't he let me have it?

His voice was low and husky, "Love it, baby?"


"Need it?" he teased.

"Yes! Please!"

He tilted my head up and looked down at me with a stern but lustful expression. "You wanna be taken by a man, don't you. You want me to be your daddy, don't you."

I looked into his eyes while all kinds of images went rolling through my mind, and like a slot machine, one by one, they came to a stop with a click on a triple, "Yes," I squeaked out.

"Yes what?" He pulled my head back further with his fist.

It took me a couple of seconds to snap to what he was wanting me to say, then I blurted out, "Yes, Daddy!"

He smiled down at me, acknowledging my having just submitted to him on all counts. "Then show me what I've been missin'."

He let go of my hair and I dove on his cock, working furiously back and forth to show how eager I was to please him, fondling his big heavy nuts with my hand. Then I would let his cock slip out to slide my lips down the shaft and slurp a nut in through my lips and grind my face into the wrinkly hairy skin while I squeezed his cock with my hand, then tongue my way back up the underside of the shaft to gulp down as far as I could go on the unbelievably long shaft. I tried, I pushed, I gagged, I choked, I shoved my face onto it, but I just couldn't get it all the way into my throat. I was getting frantic, trying, and I could get it in my throat some, but I just couldn't get it all the fucking way in!

This was better than my fantasies. I had always wanted him to take me, if only to just have sex, and especially if he could love me too, but I hadn't really thought through what kind of attitude he might have if it happened. All I knew at that moment was that the way he was doing this was turning me on like I'd never thought possible.

I thought, `Yes, I want you to be my daddy, to take me and make me yours.' I smiled in my mind at the thought of all the comedians who'd played on the phrase `Who's your daddy?', and glowed at the reality that it only made its way to their lips because there had to be a lot of sexual daddies and their girls or boys out there for real, and I was finally one of those boys for the daddy of my dreams.

I had always been drawn to dominant guys, and had always wanted to have sex with them-- and there were a few here in Angel Hills that turned me on that way, some even bigger and more muscular than Buck. But Buck Tennyson was always at the top of that heap in my mind's eye. He was the ultimate male as far as I was concerned-- and with his drop dead gorgeous body, face that could stop traffic at a NasCar race and eyes that could melt you into little puddles of goo, plus his near legendary cocksmanship thrown in, I wasn't the only one who thought so.

After several minutes of me working his cock over like a starving calf, he reached down and effortlessly lifted me off my knees and sat me in the middle of the bed. He laid me back and climbed in between my spread legs. He looked down at me and he was so fucking handsome and sexy and powerful and so... I could cum just looking at him.

He hooked under my knees and pushed them back against my chest. I was so turned on, but so scared too, my mind could hardly cope with it all.

"Oh baby, what a beautiful ass," he hissed. He bent down and licked my ass, sending jolts of electricity all through me. I had never even conceived of anyone actually licking someone's ass during sex. Sure, I'd heard plenty of joking references, but just hadn't thought it was something people actually did. "Sweet, sweet ass," he mumbled into my spasming hole. He raised back up. "Hold it up for me." I replaced his hands behind my knees and pulled even farther down to put my ass up more. "Yeah, like that."

He attacked full face and it was like a steady electrocution in a most wonderful way. He licked, nibbled and sucked from my ass to my nuts, then went up over my nuts and licked the underside of my rigid cock to the tip. He took the tip in his mouth and teased it with his tongue, then let it plop out, glanced up at me as I flapped my mouth in wordless awe, then forged his way back to my hole, lapping sensuously at my tender hairless skin along the way. He forced his incredibly long tongue into my convulsing hole and I cried out at the most amazing thing I'd ever felt in my life to that point. I almost came again. He worked it in and out like a cock, giving me a hint of what was to come.

If this was anywhere near what a dick felt like, I was going to love it like crazy. I relaxed and rode his very talented tongue. I was rolling on the X-coaster in the sensations now, and didn't notice the first finger joining his tongue. It wasn't til the second finger joined in and the tongue ventured back up my perineum to my nuts that I realized there were fingers inside me. A third finger joined in and I began to feel what it meant to be stretched. He had very big hands with long thick fingers.

He reached over to the nightstand and scooped up some lubricant, applied some to his shaft, and some to my ass, working the lube into my hole with the three fingers. He was on his knees between my legs, looking down at me with the most sensuous, seductive look on his face, glowing in the soft lamplight.

"Feel good?" He worked his fingers in and out slowly.

"Yeah." It did, in a way, but not totally. It was hard to decide just how it felt.

"Now just relax and give your ass to me. Just think of how much you been wantin' me inside you all this time." He leaned over me and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock.

There was just no comparison. It was so much bigger and blunt and God it was fucking huge!

"Push out like you're takin' a dump. It'll make it easier for ya."

I pushed and so did he. The head slipped past my sphincter and I screamed.

"AAAGHHH! OH MY GOD! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" I babbled. My head thrashed from side to side and I clutched the sheets with white knuckles. I wasn't ready for this. I was almost ready to beg him to stop.

"Relax Jamie, relax. I won't do any more til you get used to it." He held there for a while. Then he lowered his head and kissed me.

I flung my arms around his back and kissed him desperately as he held there for about a minute, then pushed ever so slowly into me. I whimpered and cried into his mouth and tried to remember that I had wanted this, had fantasized about it-- had even had wet dreams about it. I tried to focus on how I actually had the man of my dreams over me, kissing me, taking me like I had always wanted-- and it helped a lot.

He stopped his inward thrust and pulled back, then started back in. He got into a slow rhythm in and out. I didn't know how far in he was, but it felt like he was practically in my throat already. I tried to divide my attention between the kiss and the fencepost being shoved in my ass, and it began to feel ok, and after a few minutes it was starting to feel pretty good, mostly. My mind and body were having a hard time deciding which was more powerful: the pain or the pleasure. Something in me was trying to tell me that I welcomed this particular kind of pain and my mind flashed the memory of someone telling me there was a fine line between pleasure and pain and in this moment, that made sense finally. He upped his tempo a little and it felt even better, but I did realize he wasn't all the way in yet because his groin wasn't yet touching my ass on his down strokes. But just what was going in felt like more than my body was designed to handle, and yet, I knew I would take it all, and instinctively knew I would love it once I got used to it-- plus that, he had told me I would love it. He knew what he was doing.

He was taking his time and I was thankful. I didn't even realize when I started subtly raising my ass to meet his slow thrusts until I noticed my body was humming with the sensation of his immense shaft plunging my bowels, sending shockwaves through my body, making me crawl up on him and cling tighter to him because I didn't know if I was feeling everything right, if this was the way it was supposed to feel, but it was making my toes curl and my fingers dig into his back and I needed to bite down on something and had to concentrate on not biting his lips or tongue when he would come down and kiss me every few thrusts for just a moment. It just felt like I had no control over my body, that it was just wringing itself out in ecstasy and pain, unsure of the distinctions and I was just along for the ride, trying to get every last inch inside me so I would know what it felt like to take Buck into me all the way. But he hit a barrier somewhere up in there, so he stopped pumping and just put steady pressure on it, pushing in to get past that muscle ring and it hurt. I gritted my jaw and trembled and whimpered.

"Open up for Daddy, baby, open up and let me in there," he demanded in a tone that made me want to obey him, and please him. He hypnotized me with his steady soothing voice, lowering his mouth to mine and swiping my lips with his tongue. He pulled his face back and drilled my eyes with his, looking resolute, looking like he was determined and was going to get what he wanted and I tried to let him know that I wanted him to get it, wanted to let him in and be his, but I didn't know how.

"Relax for me, Jamie, let me in... let me in..." He kissed me again and added, "Then you'll have me all the way inside you where no one else will ever go. Relax..." He kept up the pressure.

I wanted to say so many things, like, `Yes! Go ahead and go in! No one else will ever go there? Does that mean you want me for yourself? Do you love me too? I LOVE YOU, BUCK! YES! I'll let you in! Thank you God!' But all I could manage in that moment was a hoarsely whispered, "Yes, Buck." And the moment I said that I felt the muscle give and his head slip through and it hurt like hell, but looking in his eyes erased the pain as I felt his pelvis contact my tailbone and in that instant, I knew I was his.

I wanted him to fuck me and keep fucking me and keep on forever because I always wanted to feel this way and never thought I ever would, and to fall in love in an instant even when I've loved him all my life was just about too much to handle...

I was on the verge of crying, with a mixture of pain and joy. Maybe the X had something to do with it, maybe not, but it was just overwhelming and I couldn't hold back my cries and moans and babbling as he steadily increased his pace, fucking me all the way to heaven and back again. Oh, it still hurt, but the jolt my body got each time he would bottom out inside me was all that kept me from floating away on the pleasure, kept me centered in the here and now, in the intense moment with Buck, moaning and sweating over me, darting his head down every little bit to kiss me briefly, giving me everything I'd ever wanted in my entire life.

"Yeah, that's it baby, give that ass up to me, ride up on it, oh yeah," he said in a throaty growl as he drove me into a state of euphoria that was beyond my existence, bigger than me.

I had my legs wrapped around his waist and his arms were under my shoulders, then he twisted his wrists and took my head in his hands, holding me firmly in place while he started thrusting his huge cock into me hard, jarring my body, shocking me, scaring me. He got this intense, penetrating look in his eyes and I wanted to ask him if I was doing it right, taking him right. He almost looked angry, I thought. This was hurting every time he slammed into my little frame and I didn't know if I could take anymore and I was nervous and scared and tears started forming in my eyes and I wanted to ask him what to do, when he drove it home hard and held for a while, gyrating his hips sensuously. He pulled my head up to his face and kissed me softly, so softly, after he'd pounded my ass so hard and then this holding, gyrating and that look on his face and then this tenderness... I was confused and finally realized I had no idea what I was doing in any of this and he did know and I needed to just give myself to him and let whatever happens happen. God I loved him. I loved him so hard I almost passed out from the whole thing, it was so overwhelming.

While he ground down into me and swiveled his hips and kissed me tenderly, the tears made it out of my eyes, but they were tears of joy and love and sensations I couldn't have imagined would be so amazing and intense. His cock embedded inside my body was the most phenomenal sensation I'd ever known and I wanted it in there forever and ever again and again.

"Ohhhh baby, you feel so good in there, you're so tight. Feelin' real good to ya now?"

I could only nod my head and moan up into his cobalt blues and squeeze his cock with my muscles, getting a gasp from both of us.

"Want me to fuck you now, baby?"

My eyes went wide from the slits they had been and I clutched at his back to hang on, my answer that I was ready and he should go for it.

When he raised his head back up, still holding my head firmly between his hands and started pounding my ass hard again, it no longer hurt-- well, not in a painful way. It hurt, but it wasn't a painful hurt. I don't know how to describe it, but it was exactly what I needed and wanted from then on. I mean, I wanted this every minute of the day if I could have it. There was nothing in this world that could feel any better to me and my heart just swelled so full to the brim with love for Buck and I was sure I saw the same love in his eyes, just that he showed it in that intense and smoldering way that would send chills down my spine cuz he was so intensely male and strong and it was just how he showed his love for me...

Still holding me by my head with both hands, he lifted me by my head to a sitting position in his lap, with him sitting back on his haunches.

With my face directly in front of him, he looked me in my glazed eyes and ordered me, "Hold my shoulders and ride it."

I grasped his shoulders and started riding up and down, digging my heels into the bed for leverage. He released my head and gripped my ass with both hands to steady me as I gasped and bucked up and down on him and just about lost my mind at feeling my ass constrict around his shaft and plunge that immense length of thick flesh inside my own liquid tightness.

I had never dreamed anything could feel like this in my body. It was too much sensation, too intense, too powerful. Overloaded-- both physically and mentally-- I went into a zone, where I existed only to give my ass to him, and it didn't matter if it hurt or not, as long as I was making him feel good. I drove myself faster and harder up and down on him, slamming myself down grunting. My eyes rolled back in my head and I vaguely heard his words as my consciousness was wrapped around his cock, riding, pulsing, squeezing.

"That's it baby, lose yourself in it. Yeah. That's all that matters, having my big dick inside you, it's all you need..." His voice was again hypnotic, trickling through somewhere on the periphery of my awareness.

It was all so intense I didn't even notice my orgasm coming up on me. All of a sudden I was crying out and spraying our upper bodies with my spunk, still riding him like a bronco, holding on for dear life. When the last jet sprayed, the rest just flowing out, he roughly pushed me down on my back, held my ankles in the air and started riding me harder than I'd ridden him.

The interior of my ravaged, previously virgin ass was ten times as sensitive now that I'd cum, and his piledriving cock was traumatizing it so voraciously I thought my mind was going to snap and I would have to be carried away in a white jacket. I whimpered and moaned and babbled incoherently, rolling my head all around, clinging desperately to his hairy thighs, realizing somewhere along the way that I never wanted it to end and if he kept going, I was going to cum without touching myself again.

He jammed it in and held me down hard when he came, completely dominating me and I would have thought we were levitating if it weren't for the sensation of him pressing me down helplessly into the bed. Every sensation, every sense of touch or feel momentarily faded away except the feeling of his scorching hot load erupting from that huge pulsing shaft so deep into my bowels. I could feel each surge of liquid fire pulsing out of him into me. It was the most rewarding and satisfying feeling I'd ever had in my life, having Buck Tennyson depositing his seed so deeply inside me, marking me forever as his. I'll never forget it as long as I live.

As his shouts died down and his violent spasms tremored away, he collapsed on top of me, gasping and shaking in rhythm with my own aftershocks.

He did a couple more body jerks and started pulling out. I clamped my heels on his tailbone and frantically pulled myself back up on it.

"NO! Don't take it out! Please." I demanded, rather than asked. He mumbled some kind of `ok' into my neck, let his head fall down over my shoulder and let more of his weight down on me.

I clung to his back, kissing his shoulder, saying his name again and again, thanking him in every way except saying the words `thank you' for finally giving me what I had wanted and needed for so long, and for being the one man in the world I wanted it most from. It looked like my luck, hell, my life, may be changing.