If you've been following Taylor Mountain, you'll probably realize that Troy has definitely taken on a personality of his own AND is claiming more space in the story. That led me to introduce his sex toy. Only, that sex toy took on a name and a personality of his own. You're seeing the tail-end of this re-write, please realize that the next re-write will work both Johnny's and Troy's stories into the greater story.
I probably should point out that I'm not anti-religious -- every modern religion teaches peace and love, and the repudiation of hate. Unfortunately, there are preachers, rabbis, and imams who claim hate and fear to be the message of their god; and, even more unfortunately, there are people who believe them. So, I'm nowhere close to repudiating the God of Christianity in this story; but hate-mongers who claim to speak for Him are fair game.
This story is gay fiction. It is copyrighted and cannot be reproduced in any medium without my express permission. If you are a minor in your country of origin, don't read.
I have two other series running on Nifty: GLOBAL ENTERTAINMENT appearing in the Incest folder and ILLUSIONS in the Beginnings folder. If these two stories don't give you enough hot vampires and mortals, Starbooks has just released my LOVERS WHO STAY WITH YOU, and that has 28 tales that'll have you offering your neck to the next guy who offers to lick it. <G> You can help Nifty by using its link to A Different Light Bookstore when ordering this book.
I'd love to hear from you -- tell me what you think of this story, Illusions, or Global Entertainment. Just please put the title of the story in the subject box so that I won't delete your message along with all the spam I get. I'm at email@example.com.
"Oh, God!" Troy groaned and shut his eyes as Johnny sank all six inches into his butt. Going in, more than four of them had rubbed his prostate hard and he'd almost lost it. But, then, Johnny's dick had the girth of a coke bottle. It did a truly heavy number on his prostate every time it was in him. He grabbed the boy's asscheeks hard to hold him against him.
Troy felt lips brush his as Johnny began to move inside him. His eyes jerked open to see Johnny leaning into him, his lips pressing against his own.
From the beginning, it had been Troy sucking the football player or taking him up the ass. All week long, Johnny had shown no signs of their sex being anything but a method for him to get a nut. The jock kissing him was a complete surprise.
Tentatively, he opened his mouth and his tongue snaked out to brush the boy's lips. Johnny's mouth opened and their tongues met. The kiss continued as the football player's hips flexed and his hard belly rode over Troy's dick.
The movement of Johnny's manhood sliding back and forth through Troy's fuckchute became more than just getting fucked to Troy at that moment. The orgasm growing in him as Johnny continued to kiss him and rocked in and out of his ass became more than just sex. Troy's mind shut off and his body took over. His hands snaked past his own thighs and grabbed each of Johnny's asscheeks hard. His body was pushing him, pulling him, into a completeness he'd never known. Something much greater than a simple orgasm.
Johnny quickened his pace and Troy was a rocket lifting from its launch pad. Johnny pounded in him and Troy felt the fires of his lift off in his ass, in his balls -- coursing through his body to consume him.
His orgasm erupted between them as Johnny pounded on and his tongue owned Troy's mouth.
"Was that better than the other times?" Johnny asked in the darkness of the bedroom as their breathing returned to normal. His fingertips brushed across Troy's chest in the warm south Georgia autumn night.
Troy smiled. "You're getting there," he said in a quiet voice.
Johnny raised up on an elbow and, leaning over him, placing a butterfly kiss on each of Troy's eyelids. "What's it like to suck a dick, baby?" he asked.
Troy opened his eyes and looked up at the boy leaning over him. "Where is this going, Johnny?" he asked, hoping he knew the answer.
The boy looked up, locking his gaze with Troy's. "Would you like me to suck you off?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Troy's jerked and quickly grew to its ten inches. He sighed. "Would I? Yeah ... I guess I would. In a way, it'd even things out some between us. In a much bigger way, it'd be a real announcement that I mean something more to you than just an ass you can fuck." He shrugged. "But it'd also mean that you're gay, too."
Johnny snorted. "I've kind of figured I'm at least bi. I've always wondered what it'd be like. Then, my brother hired you that time in Jacksonville and I knew I wanted mouth and ass wrapped around my dick. Besides, I like you and know you wouldn't tell anybody what I'd done." His fingers moved onto Troy's belly to wrap around his pole. "Only, no matter how bi I am, I'm not going to let this monster near my butt."
"Have you ever wondered how it'd feel to have a dick inside you?" Troy asked, knowing he was pushing the envelope.
"Yeah ... But it ain't going to happen until I'm ready -- and I'm nowhere close to being ready for that." His body began to bend as his face moved toward Troy's pole.
* * *
I let myself into the condo Monday evening expecting to find Henry draped over my couch watching MTV or something equally uninteresting to me. I'd started rehearsing lines that would justify turning the idiot box off before I left the car.
There was no sign of Henry anywhere, however. I finally found his note on the counter -- on my third sweep of the house and just before I called the cops to report a missing teenager loose on Atlanta.
He was at Paul's for a little while. Okay, no problem.
I fixed a drink and turned my thoughts to what to have for dinner. As I drained the last of the Famous Grouse from the glass, I decided on Chinese. But I did want to discuss it with Henry before I ordered. I changed into something comfortable and came back to the living room to read the paper.
It was eight o'clock and another drink before I'd had enough. I got up and went next door. I knocked and waited. Three minutes later, I used the door knocker and waited. I'd just reached for the knocker again when I heard the door being unlocked.
It opened just enough for me to see Paul's face as he looked out at me. His foyer and living room were dark. He was hiding the rest of his body behind the door.
"Is Henry still here?" I asked, figuring I knew the answer all ready.
"He -- Sammy, I'm sorry," my neighbor said, his face reddening. "We sort of lost track of time."
"I was getting hungry."
"I fed him hours ago," he said. "You go ahead and eat."
"Send him home when you get tired of him," I told Paul and started toward my own door.
I was mildly pissed as I waited for the Chinese delivery man. I didn't know what I'd expected when I came home from work, but waiting two-and-a-half hours for Henry to finish fucking Paul wasn't it. I started planning out nice ways to tell the kid that he had to be considerate of other people -- me especially.
By the time midnight rolled around, I figured Henry wasn't coming back that night. That irritated me more than I wanted to admit, and not just because I'd wanted a piece of the kid's ass, either. I stopped thinking of nice ways of talking to Henry when I saw him again. When I got through telling him what I expected, I doubted he'd ever want to come to Atlanta with me again. That would suit me just fine, the way I felt when I went to bed alone that night.
The next morning, Paul was picking up his paper as I let myself out. He looked like shit. "Henry still with you?" I asked, my voice probably telegraphing my irritation.
"Yeah. He's asleep." He yawned. "That kid stays hard, Sammy -- like that blond up on the mountain."
"Just tell him to be waiting for me in my house when I get home tonight."
"Make it six?"
"Okay, six it is."
"I'll personally walk him over and put his leash in your hand," Paul said, making a half-hearted attempt at humor. If he had looked more rested, it might have worked.
"Don't plan on him coming back out to play later. Henry's got to learn how to be responsible."
Paul giggled. "Good. That means I can sleep tonight."
Even with the dive that the economy had taken since Bush re-instituted Reagan's voodoo economics, there were a few bright spots offering returns. Technologies were looking better all the time. There were also European stocks that looked both bright and solid. I spent most of the day investigating them.
I barely noticed when the locksmith put in new locks. I forgot to eat lunch. I didn't think of Henry at all. By five o'clock, it had been a productive day.
My stomach growled while I was locking up. I thought of Henry then and quickly remembered there weren't many groceries around the house. I figured I was going to have a hungry boy waiting for me at the condo. On the drive home, I tried to decide where I ought to take him to eat. There was a diner over on Memorial that served Southern cooking. The thought of that much grease turned me off, however; besides, I figured Henry got enough fried chicken at home. Then, I remembered the little Mexican restaurant beside the sandwich shop where Paul and I had eaten my first time out in gay Atlanta. The kid would probably go for Mexican; I knew I could.
Henry wasn't there when I arrived home, and it didn't look like he'd been home during the day. I was starting to boil until I remembered that I had told Paul to have the kid back by six. I was still irked but accepted that I was going to have to wait. I fixed a drink and changed into jeans and a knit sweater. I heard the door open as I was pulling on my sneakers and glanced at my clock. Henry had made it with three minutes to spare.
"Hungry?" I called out and stood up.
"I could eat a horse," Henry called back.
"Good," I said as I entered the short hallway that led me into the living room. "We're having Mexican, that okay with you?"
He shrugged and pushed the door closed. "Never had it, but I'll try anything once." I stopped at the entrance to the living room and watched him.
His face flushed when he saw me looking at him, and he quickly walked into the kitchen. "I need some water," he explained over his shoulder.
"It's probably a couple of miles up to the restaurant," I said. "Want to walk or take a cab?"
"What's the matter with your car?" he asked and looked at me from behind the counter separating the two rooms.
"Nothing. It's just a real bitch to find parking around here in the evenings -- especially with the pub next door."
"You've got a car, though, and you'd still walk two miles to a restaurant?" he asked, looking at me strangely.
"It'd build up our appetites," I retorted. "Besides, you do a lot of walking on the mountain."
"Yeah. That's because I have to, Sammy. I don't have wheels -- either I hoof it or I beg good old dad to let me use the car." He wagged his head slowly. "It's easier to walk it most times."
"You think it's funny?" he growled, rounding the counter and entering the living room. "I guess you had a car given to you on your sixteenth birthday."
"I did, Henry. But I get your point." I picked up the phone. "I'll call a cab."
"I'm sorry about last night, Sammy," he said as I held the door open to the landing and he passed by me.
"It wasn't very responsible of you," I told him, keeping my voice calm as we followed the stairs down to the building front door. "I kept waiting for you to come home before I ate."
"I know and I'm really, really sorry," he said as we started down the walk to the street. "Next time I do something with Paul, I'll be back home by nine, I promise."
"It's okay. Just think of others besides yourself next time." I grinned and turned to face him. "I guess you were -- uh -- pretty wrapped up with Paul last night." I arched a brow theatrically in question.
He turned red. And looked anywhere but at me.
"Paul suggested that you'd worn him out," I supplied.
"I couldn't believe it, Sammy," he groaned. "We kept going until my dick was like rubber."
"You fucked him that long?"
"Shit, yeah! He wouldn't get off and I wouldn't go down. Neither one of us even came the last thirty minutes we were doing it."
"I guess you're pretty proud of your endurance."
"Nah, not really." He looked at me. "Well, yeah -- a little, I guess." His gaze dropped to the curb. "It was good to find out that I could last that long, you know? But it'd have been a whole lot better, I think, if we'd just cuddled up together afterwards -- like we do, you and me. We were so worn out, we just crashed."
I saw a yellow cab pull into the local lane and slow down as it approached us. "I think we've got our ride. Hope you're hungry."
Henry looked up and noticed the park across the road. "What's over there?" he asked.
"Piedmont Park. That's where I run in the mornings. We'll have to check it out tomorrow before I go to work." I stepped between two parked cars as the cab stopped and opened the door. Henry was right behind me.
"I've been wanting this all day," Henry said as he stood next to my bed and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
"What's that?" I asked, sitting on the other side of the bed and pushing my jeans down my legs. I was already hard and tenting my boxers.
"Your dick where it belongs, Sammy," he said and leaned over the bed to nuzzle my neck.
"You didn't get enough with Paul last night?" I asked, pulling his leg a little. I turned and our lips met.
He pulled back a moment later and smiled at me as he unbuttoned the waist of his pants. "I got enough of fucking him last night," he answered, quickly pulled the zipper down. "But I want you in me."
"Poor Paul." I chuckled and pushed my underwear past my knees. "Sam doesn't like it when an outsider is plugging one of us, does he?"
His hands went to him hips as he studied me. "It isn't just that," he said slowly, thinking through his words. "I like fucking him. I like being with him. I like learning things from him. But I don't want him fucking me any more than I want any of my cousins on the mountain in me -- not any more."
"Oh?" My underwear puddled at my feet and I stepped out of them.
"Yeah. There's something about you fucking me that makes it more than just fucking -- and that's what I want now."
"What about Sam? I haven't heard you complain about bending over for him."
"Shit!" Henry pushed his pants and underwear over his hips and sat on the bed to pull them off. "Sam'll fuck me but he doesn't really want anybody but you -- not since that first time you came up to the mountain," he said over his shoulder.
"Yeah?" My gaze moved slowly down his back to his buttcheeks.
I saw them then -- welts crisscrossing his fanny from his tailbone down to the sheets. "What the fuck?" I growled.
"What?" he asked as he turned to face me.
"Your ass, Henry. Who's been beating you?"
His face turned red and his hands covered his butt. His eyes got bigger and rounder and they met mine -- like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming car.
"Henry?" I asked, staying a lot calmer than I thought I could.
"Sammy, don't get mad at me." He looked away then.
"What happened?" I asked and I slid across the bed and cupped his chin in my hand to turn him back to me.
"Paul did this to you?" I demanded. "I'll..."
"No, Sammy, don't." His eyes pleaded with me, even more than his voice did. "I went with him to his warehouse this morning -- that's where his dungeon is."
"Yeah. He ties guys up -- with chains and ropes and everything. He whips them, Sammy -- can you believe it?"
"Jesus!" I groaned, remembering that he'd mentioned it when he was explaining about Rastus Reed. He just hadn't gotten specific about what went on.
"They pay him to punish them."
"Yeah. They all dress up in leather chaps and stuff, leaving their butts naked -- and he ties them up to this big X-shaped cross standing in the middle of the room. He's got all sorts of stuff -- you know, whips and paddles."
Boy, did I understand then. Typical kid, Henry had seen Paul's layout, and that was all she wrote. He had to know about everything there -- and try it out. I just hoped that he hadn't enjoyed himself too much. I didn't know how I'd explain that to Sam or Ralph. Shit! I didn't know how I'd explain it to myself.
I mean, I'd gotten to be more than a little fond of this cousin of mine with the big-assed dick and very willing ass. But I sure as hell didn't want to see him or his privates decked out in leather or his butt covered in welts. Ralph would throw a conniption fit if he found out his son liked that shit. And I didn't want to think about what Sam would do about it. The kid could have a lot more reminders than a few ugly welts across his heiny.
I forced myself to stay calm. I told myself that what Henry had done was no different than the first time a boy got drunk -- or even the first time he jerked off. It wasn't anything more than his exploring a little niche of the world around him.
"Did you enjoy it?" I asked quietly.
"No -- well, a little, I guess." He pulled away from my fingers and looked down at his hands that had found their way to his lap. "It hurt just like when daddy used to whip me when I was a little boy -- so, I didn't really like it," he explained. "But Paul'd carried me all the way through it beforehand." He looked up, his gaze meeting mine again. "Like, we had to agree on just how far he'd go and come up with a safeword and a whole bunch of other shit. The weirdest thing was I had to come up with a fantasy for why I was being whipped."
"Ouch!" I yelped, trying to imagine any such fantasy for me and coming up empty. "Did you come up with something?"
He blushed again, his ears were almost brown they were so dark red. "Yeah."
He looked away quickly. "I don't want to say, Sammy," he mumbled.
I crawled around behind him and encircled his chest. I nuzzled his ear. "Come on, what?"
That ear got hot as well as dark red suddenly. "It was just playing, you know?"
"Well, you and me, we were supposed to be lovers, real ones -- you know, living together and being sort of a family."
"Okay..." I wasn't letting anything on, but I found that I was beginning to like this fantasy of his. Not the whipping, but the lovers part.
"And you caught me fooling around -- the very first time I'd done something that stupid in the three whole years we'd been lovers ... It was a fantasy, you know?"
"And you had to justify me spanking you somehow, right?" I nibbled at his earlobe and his whole body shivered against mine.
I moved my hand down his chest and over his abs to wrap my fingers around his hard dick. It was slick and wet, it was drooling so much.
I brought my other hand up to his shoulder and guided him down onto the bed. He grinned up at me and spread his legs wide. I climbed in between them and bent over to kiss him. He raised his head to meet me, both his hands going under my arms and onto the top of my head to pull my face to his. Our lips locked and our dicks dueled between our bodies.
Henry used his knees to move his legs up along my sides. As soon as he'd moved them into my armpits, he locked his ankles over the small of my back, his heels digging into the tops of my buttcheeks.
Our tongues dancing to their own music, I brought my free hand around his hip and, taking hold of my pole at its base, worked it down past his balls to wedge its head at his puckered opening.
He opened his eyes and, breaking our kiss, grinned up at me. His hands moved over my shoulders and onto my sides on their way to my fanny. He cupped both buttcheeks and, still grinning, began to pull himself up toward me, impaling himself on my dick.
"That feels so fucking good, Sammy," he whispered hoarsely as his heels began to push my body against his faster. He sighed when my pubes pushed past the bottom of his ball sack. "Now, fuck my ass good."
I began to pull my hips back, sliding inches of my pole out of him.
"Yeah!" he moaned, laying his head back on the bed and arching his neck. His eyes closed and his head began to move from side to side.
His hands continued to cup my cheeks and his heels continued to spur my butt forward as he relaxed his body, surrendering it to me.
I found a rhythm that felt good and which my fist on his meat could match. His fuckchute spread open as I pushed into him but gripped at me as I began to pull back. Ripples of muscles pulled and tugged at my dick.
I lost myself to the rhythm and tension and surrender of his body. Of my body. Of our bodies working together to become one. We were united, together, as we rode each other. The universe consisted of only the two of us. For all time. We were perfection.
I was beyond thought and, even, emotion. I was the densest feeling, expanding to reach critical mass.
But perfection didn't, wouldn't, last.
Pressure increased until even feeling became nothing. And everything at the same time. Feeling exploded across the universe. Stars blinked into existence in that eternity. And winked out of it. We were creation.
Henry came. Gushes of his jizz slickening our chests. The gripping, tugging of his fuckchute became a vise, heated past imagination.
I rammed into that heated vise one last time -- and froze. And exploded.
I ceased to exist for that moment in time. My face rose and my eyes shut as I cried out silently in my release.
I continued to kneel over him, frozen in rictus as my dick throbbed and Henry's buttmuscles spasmed along my pole over and over to milk me dry.