Date: Thu, 18 Apr 2024 13:39:47 +0000
From: Rio Mack <badprose@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Deadheads of No Hope 5

THE DEADHEADS OF NO HOPE
by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay and straight sexuality.

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FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL (WEDNESDAY)

Wednesday morning, Anna Beam's first period English class began work on of
Act One of OTHELLO. The teacher grew quickly concerned at how inattentive
and disconnected Trey Washington seemed during the discussion. Trey was a
new student at Hope Academy, so he came in for special concern for
Ms. Beam.

All the other students couldn't wait to talk about the play -- Ms. Beam
couldn't tell if Trey had even read it.

"Trey, what do you think Othello meant when he told Brabantio and his
attendants, `Hold up your bright swords or the dew will rust them'?"

Trey's response was sharp and sudden, showing anger, resentment, and --
mostly, Ms. Beam thought -- embarrassment.

"How the hell I know? How the fuck we s'posed t' understand this shit when
it ain't no English no one ever hear?"

Several students in class audibly gasped. Remy was shook. He'd never seen
Trey be anything but chill. He wondered if his boy was about to be thrown
out of class, but Ms. Beam just smiled indulgently.

"That's warning number one for cursing, Trey, and there is no warning
number two. But to answer your unfortunately phrased question, it is,
actually, modern English that Shakespeare wrote in. You speak English,
don't you?"

"Course I do, you know that. Jus' like you know that this book you give us,
this be white folks' English. For white folks' brains maybe understand."

"And is your brain inferior, somehow? That you can't understand the same
English 'white folks' can?"

He flashed that anger again.

"Hell no, brain ain't 'ferior, but it ain't be white. Maybe you understand
this nonsense 'cause you some kinda black woman brainiac, got that skill,
can speak hella languages. Not me. And not no black boy I know. You ain't
never find me one young black dude can seriously understand this sh -- ,
this book, like you `spect me, and be able to talk intelligent `bout it."

She smiled, dimmed the lights, and clicked a video on her laptop,
projecting it onto a screen she pulled down over the blackboard behind
her. The clip that played was an interview with one of the young black
actors from the National Theatre, discussing how he approached the part of
Othello -- discussing, as it turned out, his motivation for the way he
delivered, in performance, that very `bright swords' line Trey claimed was
incomprehensible, going into great detail about what the speech revealed
about Othello's character.

When the clip was over, Anna Beam turned the lights back up. Trey looked
both bested and sore, and the class discussion proceeded in a lively
fashion while he quietly fumed.

Ms. Beam halted the chatter when there was about twenty minutes left until
the end of class, so she could lecture about the politics of race
throughout history as regards acting the part of Othello, explaining how
white actors would blacken their faces for the role, and then what happened
when actual black actors first started acting the part.

She even showed a few clips from the film of Laurence Olivier's notorious,
over-the-top performance of the role, which prompted a fierce range of
comments, pro and con, from both black and white students.

With about a minute of class left, Ms. Beam reminded them to finish the
play for tomorrow. Then she turned to Trey, smiling sweetly.

"And let's all look forward tomorrow to Trey explaining to us all Othello's
Act Three, Scene 3 soliloquy, now that he's discovered that Shakespearean
English is not at all beyond the power of a young black man's
comprehension."

Several snickers.

On the way to math class, Trey begged Remy for help, so they decided to
skip lunch after math and hole up in the No Hope library, where Remy found
his friend both a book entitled WHAT HAPPENS IN SHAKESPEARE, as well as the
NO FEAR copy of the play, with a `conversational English' translation on
the opposite page from the original text.

Remy went over the books with Trey at one of the library tables and told
him to first check out the summary in the WHAT HAPPENS book, to get his
bearings, then read over the speech he was assigned, plus the NO FEAR
translation, a few times, comparing the two texts, so he'd understand the
grammar and syntax, as well as the meaning, for class tomorrow.

Still a bit bitter, Trey looked sheepishly at his friend.

"How you even know `bout books like this? This some secret white folks
thing?"

"Dude, I spent two years in an inner-city Milwaukee high school. It was a
couple of the honor-roll black students in my English class last year, when
we studied MACBETH, who turned me on to books like this, so I'm thinkin'
it's more a `good student' thing, than a `white' thing."

Trey just shook his head and thanked his bro.

Remy's next two classes passed in a blur, interrupted only three times with
Wren Damson fantasies, all of which featured him as a brutally handsome,
muscular young prince, imprisoned in chains by Wren, a gorgeous, incredibly
sexy young sorceress, who used her powerful magic to torture his long,
thick, straining-hard cock and huge, ripe ball-sac to exquisite pleasure,
milking load after load of boy-cream from him, which she'd collect in a
gleaming gold chalice, studded with jewels, then eagerly swill down,
cackling about how much stronger her magic became after drinking his cum.

After which, she'd ravish his very willing boy-hole with her long,
fiendishly pleasurable snake-tongue, as well as a kind of long,
dildo-shaped magic wand -- each time coaxing more loads from his cock,
filling her goblet to the brim and guzzling it down in one gulp, further
fueling her evil sex-powers.

In one fantasy, in History class, while Remy's mind wandered during a
small-group discussion of the study questions they did for homework the
night before, the evil Sorceress Wren had Remy chained in such a way that
he couldn't move his head. She strip-teased him as he was held motionless,
laughing to see how hard it made him.

When she removed the last piece of clothing she wore -- some kind of
super-sexy thong made out of just a thin gold chain -- she straddled his
held-fast head and proceeded to mash her cunt ruthlessly against his mouth,
pressing tightly against the back of his head, riding her pussy across his
tongue to orgasm after orgasm. It was so damn hot, Remy could feel his
precum flow like his cock was an open faucet.

But only three Wren fantasies that day was certainly an improvement over
yesterday's non-stop Wren fixation, so Remy thought maybe it meant he was
getting control over his weird, aberrant girl-lust.

He also figured the relative scarcity of Wren-thoughts might be due to the
fact that most of his available libido-space was pre-occupied during the
day with excited thoughts about his upcoming sixth-hour PE class, which
today would mean the first time being naked in the locker room with all the
boys in his class, lifting weights with them, then showering together after
their workout.

The thought of getting pumped and sweaty with a bunch of hot black boys,
working muscle, then crowding naked together under steamy shower-spray --
being able to ogle all those smooth, athletic, beautifully muscled,
big-dicked bodies, watching them soap up all that ebony perfection -- had
kept him seriously edging all day long.

As it turned out, gym class fully lived up to his anticipation.

Remy hustled out of Chemistry to get to PE early, making a bee-line for the
boys' locker room, which, Remy thought, was a very cool space -- small,
with off-white, grey-veined marble walls and hex tile floors, it felt both
intimately sexy and classically athletic.

The changing area had one long mahogony bench running down the middle, with
vintage grey lockers on each side. The boys in class spaced themselves
evenly out on either side as they arrived, chose a locker, and wasted no
time stripping off the little that most No Hope boys wore with late-summer
temperatures still soaring.

It was always exciting for Remy to be naked with other boys in a locker
room, feasting on their bodies. Most of the boys in his gym class were
black, and three-fourths of those black boys were smoking hot -- handsome,
fit, sexy hair, and seriously hot.

Once naked, boys were in no hurry to suit up in their gym gear. Every boy
looked for some excuse to stay naked -- nodding and giving a "`Sup?" to the
naked dude next to him, messing with their shoes or shorts, or taking a
while to stash their street clothes, or joining in on the conversation
going on between boys standing by the lockers across from him -- anything
that might let him flaunt his hot body and big dick while ogling those of
the other boys.

This was locker room heaven for Remy -- a choice group of hot, naked,
mostly black boys, all loving being naked together. Age seventeen and
eighteen, Remy realized, turned out to be an awesome stage in the
development of a boy's body.

Remy knew Trey's naked body, and looked forward to seeing it often, so he
concentrated on scoping out the the other boys. He couldn't help but stare,
watching Mayo and Willy and Lee undress, along with an insanely handsome,
slick-talking, lean-muscled, big-dicked black dude named Ty, all four of
whom clustered themselves toward the furtherest end of the bench, opposite
Remy and Trey.

It was always a shock for Remy to glimpse a particularly well-hung black
dude's dick for the first time, continually surprised by just how
freakishly long a dick can be. Mayo (as Remy had expected from seeing the
dude commando during Orientation) was particularly huge -- his black-coffee
cock figured to be at least nine inches, thick as Remy's wrist, with a
foreskin that stretched thickly over the head.

Willy's dick was about a shade or two darker, even, than his dark-chocolate
skin, maybe an inch longer than Remy's, uncut, with a pinkish-brown head
that peeked out from its hood. When Ty stripped down his boxer-briefs, an
almost laughably long, thick, endless length of black dick came spilling
out, coming down almost to Ty's knees. A sharp pain of lust shot through
Remy's groin.

Lee, the white dude, was seriously ripped -- hard and sinewy, with
alabaster muscles deep-carved, Remy guessed, from weight-lifting and
skate-boarding -- with a nice, plump, uncut dick, maybe two inches shorter
than Remy's own, and where Remy's shaft was smooth, Lee's was crisscrossed
with veins, and his cockhead was completely covered by a thick,
succulent-looking fleshy hood that nippled off it, making Remy's mouth
water.

Remy gladly would have knelt down then and there, taking turns on each
those gorgeous lengths of boy-meat. The four of them standing together,
smiling and boyish and gorgeous, looked like a sexy heart-throb boy band --
all of them handsome as hell, with sexy hairstyles, ripped abs,
super-defined upper and lower bodies, and each with a smooth, round,
muscle-firm ass.

The other boys who milled around, talking and flaunting their nudity,
couldn't compare to that hot foursome, but they filled out the classic
stroke-fantasy scene pleasantly.

Remy lost any trace of nervous shyness he might normally have had in a
setting like this because these No Hope dudes were very matter-of-fact
about being into boys, into cock and muscle. Boys softly stroked their
dicks as they chatted, frankly staring at the dick on the boy they were
shooting the shit with, and letting fingers trace over ripped abs and
hardened nips.

A lot of the laughing, back-and-forth conversation -- and this got Remy
seriously horned-up -- concerned some of the hot new first-year boys they'd
all noticed in the halls.  Willy and Ty, especially, got droolingly
detailed, describing how cute various new boys were.

Willy went on about some white boy's cute, pouty lips and what they'd look
like sliding over his dick; Ty talked about this boy who had a class
opposite one of his, and how he'd never seen an ass so ripe and luscious,
and what pounding it was going to feel like.

Remy's head spun, listening to boys his age talk so frankly about their
lust for even younger boys. All the hipper-looking black dudes, though,
just nodded. A loud, excited discussion started about the merits of various
cherry-busting techniques that would have a young'un on his knees, taking
dick, before the boy even knew it.

It felt to Remy that this first day, being nude and horny together in the
locker room, dudes were all testing each other, making sure everyone was
down with the boy-lust program. Damn, were we ever, Remy thought.

With the certainty this would be a seriously satisfying PE class this term,
in terms of boy-sex, dudes realized they were ready to suit up, confident
of the satisfying shower-sex ahead of them, after getting horned-up,
working their bodies with these other cock-hungry hot boys.

As they dressed, it became apparent every boy had decided to opt for a just
pair of mesh basketball shorts as their gym uniform, along with a pair of
sneakers.  No one bothered with a jock -- they all wanted to let their
cocks hang loose as they worked their hard bodies, excited to show them off
to the other boys, draped alluringly as those dicks would be under loose
mesh.

The boys kept joshing with each other as they laced up their sneaks, and
then all that thick, long meat jostled and bobbed visibly in their
basketball shorts as they scurried off to the weight room in packs of three
or four.

The boys began limbering up until their teacher arrived.  Coach Simmons
took attendance, then quickly demonstrated the various lifts involved in
the upper body routine they were doing today. He casually stripped off his
skin--tight T-shirt for the demo, looking fitness-model hot as he lifted.

The weekly schedule would be upper body one day, lower body the next, then
a day of cardio (Coach suggested basketball, and all the boys whooped),
then back to alternating upper and lower body. They'd work abdominals at
the end of every class and finish wth a set of cool-down stretches.

With the demo done, Coach put James Brown's SEX MACHINE cd on the portable
stereo, and the boys got started. Remy thought it was awesome Coach left
his sleeveless T off as he circulated through the weight-stations, giving
tips where needed and praise where merited.

Trey and Remy teamed up to spot each other. Almost every boy was very
familiar with lifting (as their nicely carved upper bodies showed), so
Coach focused on helping two cute, twinkish boys -- one white, one black --
who were inexperienced with weight training.

Trey and Remy worked with practiced efficiency. They loved watching each
other's buff bodies pump and strain as they pressed and lifted -- the scene
made even more intense by the pounding, rhythmic funk blasting through the
speakers.

Their hands played over each other's sweaty muscle after they finished
their sets, feeling each other's cuts. Remy was mesmerized watching Trey's
body pump and flex -- the boy's smooth, gleaming-dark skin highlighting his
natural athletic build and looking even sexier covered in sweat. Remy
thought that in a few years, with serious, steady conditioning, Trey could
be the next hot underwear model -- his rich, smooth, dark ebony muscle
would look gorgeous set off by a pair of white briefs.

Remy started teasing his bro because Trey always had to lower the weights
on the bar after Remy was done, but Trey turned it back on him.

"You the problem, dude! Why you be liftin all that heavy weight, Rem? Gonna
make that fine-ass body blow up like that big marshmallow dude. Be like me
-- more reps, lighter weights. That way, you keep that sexy look you got."

Remy let his eyes wander often around the weight room, grooving on all the
sexy muscle-studs, especially Willy and Lee. Damn, those dudes were
built. And like him and Trey, they couldn't keep their hands off each
other's arms and chest and back and abs, praising each other's definition
between sets.

This was easily the sexiest PE class Remy had ever had. In previous years,
homoerotic tension had always simmered furtively beneath the surface of a
boys' gym class. Here it made for the climate in the room, the very air
they breathed.

The black boys kept their chains on when they lifted, making their sweaty,
pumped, upper bodies look that much hotter. Remy hated how much he wanted a
chain. He didn't want to copy the black dudes, but the look was just so
damn sexy.

With twenty minutes left, Coach had them do crunches -- as many as they
could, to exhaustion. The goal was to work up to a hundred by the end of
the month (which Remy could already do easily). Afterwards, he showed them
all some yoga stretches. Remy's eyes stayed locked on his teacher's
muscular, dark brown, tight-end's body as it rippled and flexed and
pumped. Total stud.

Finally, Coach announced it was time to hit the showers. Remy felt his dick
swell as the boys hustled back to the locker room.

Once there, they all hurriedly stripped off what little gym gear they wore,
and naked boys raced to the shower area, dicks waggling. There was no need
to bother with towels, as there was a table set up outside the showers with
a stack for the boys to use when they finished.

The shower area was of a piece with the rest of the boys' locker room,
looking like it hadn't been remodeled since it was originally built in the
1940s. The gang-shower space was lit from a row of frosted windows near the
ceiling. The walls were covered in old-fashioned, creamy white subway tile,
and the shower floor was hex tile. There were only eight showerheads, four
on either side of the room, so each boy had to share.

Remy and Trey crowded under one, with Lee and Mayo next to them on one
side, and Willy and Ty on the other. The other boys in his class clustered
themselves throughout the rest of the space. Taps were turned on, and a hot
and steamy cloud quickly formed with the rush of shower-spray.

Remy was thrilled to be in the company of these naked, big-dicked black
boys. He felt like a lean, sinewy young Tarzan, bathing under a secluded
jungle waterfall, privileged to be sharing this elemental, masculine
setting with the handsome, muscular, young warriors of some Nubian tribe.

As water poured over him, Remy ogled Lee and Mayo. Lee began soaping up
Mayo, while Mayo returned the favor. Oh hell yes, Remy thought, staring
wide-eyed at the sexy shower-play. He'd never had a gym class back in
Milwaukee where boys washed each other in the shower afterwards. When the
two boys' bodies were all sudsy and slick, their fingers began gliding
sensuously over nips and cocks and cracks.

He turned to watch Willy and Ty. The lean-muscled, dark-skinned boys had
stroked each other's huge black cocks to mouth-watering hardness. They were
kissing each other and moaning as their skilled hands worked each other's
jutting pricks.

Remy's cock throbbed excitedly in the midst of this awesome black
boy-lust. He started jacking himself to the hot scene when he felt Trey's
soapy hands on his chest and ass. He turned, kissed his bro, and began
worshipping smooth, sexy, black muscle with his soapy hands.

Remy was crushing seriously hard on Willy Stevens. Unable to keep his eyes
off the hot boy -- super-sexy braids, raging hard cock, and beautifully cut
muscle -- he motioned Willy over to join Trey and him. Then it was Remy and
Trey and Willy jacking each other with soapy fingers and kissing each other
longingly. Ty slipped seamlessly in with Mayo and Lee

Shower spray steamed over a glistening blur of black and white muscle and
cock and ass. Black hands glided over white skin, and white hands soapily
fondled black cock and muscle and ass.

The two black bodies showering with him were so sexy, Remy had trouble
deciding whose muscular beauty to worship, so he alternated between them,
soaping up first one boy's firm chest and pebble-hard nips, then the
other's, while four black hands sensuously played over his own muscle and
cock and ass. The entire time they washed each other, each boy's hungry
lips and tongue continuously worked over the other two boys'.

While Trey worked Remy's chest and abs, he slipped a finger up and down his
bro's crack, while Willy stroked the white boy's cock. Remy had one hand
soaping up Willy's jutting hardness, the other on Trey's.

As he pleasured them both, loving how long and thick both boys were, with
those big-ass nut-sacs, Trey soon had two fingers knuckle-deep in Remy's
ass, while Willy fisted Remy's cock and played with his balls.

The three of them were moaning in ecstasy, loud enough to be heard over the
shower-roar. Willy drew closer and began serious French-kissing as he
jacked Remy. Remy was thrilled to see Willy was as into him as he was into
Willy. The boy's thick soft lips felt amazing!

Remy had almost forgotten how much he loved kissing black boys. Their
magnificently beautiful lips made for such a sensual thrill that Remy
always thought he could cum from kissing alone. He groaned at the hotness
of Willy's passion and hunger, both their mouths open and panting as their
tongues dueled.

Willy gently pushed Remy's hand off his cock and began fisting both their
raging hard dicks together, his huge hand able to clasp both their thick
shafts easily. Willy's cock was so gorgeous, felt so fulsome and potent,
Remy almost hated to let go. The cock-on-cock deliciousness throbbed
through both boys, and Willy kissed even more fiercely as he jacked them.

Remy, hands now freed, reached around to let his fingers play sensuously
over Willy's firm, round ass-cheeks and groove a couple fingers up and down
his crack -- which the excited boy's ass immediately began grooving back
on.

Trey began kissing Remy's neck and shoulders and back as he played his
steel-hard cock up and down Remy's ass-crack. By this time, Remy's
soap-slick fingers had teased Willy's hole open enough, so he began
finger-fucking the boy. Willy's hips responded eagerly, grinding his ass
lewdly on Remy's fingers as he jacked off both their cocks.

Trey began intense nipple-play on Remy's chest, as he wedged his raging
hard dick between the cheeks of Remy's muscular ass. He held the white
boy's hips, and began frotting his dick between the cheeks of his bro's
muscle-butt. Remy loved the feel of Trey's hard cock and big ball-sac
wedged in his crack, grooving his ass.

It didn't take long before the three of them, within seconds of each other,
blew their loads. The tile-walls echoed with their loud, lusty groans of
boyish delight.

They rinsed, kissing each other in spent delight, then they each grabbed a
towel from the stack and strode back to their lockers, to ogle each other
as they dried off, a huge, satisfied smile on each of their faces.

After they dressed, Remy fist-bumped with Willy, hugged, and shared a long,
lingering, open-mouthed kiss with his new friend. The two boys swapped
numbers, then Willy was off.

Remy and Trey headed first upstairs, to their school lockers, then back
down to the main hall, their arms around each other's waist the whole way,
stealing giddy kisses, high as hell after the best gym class ever.

Trey whispered low to his friend.

"That be so damn hot with Willy. Dude hot as fuck! Gym class be cool as
hell this year, Rem."

Remy held his friend back, so they could stop for a moment, while Remy gave
his bro a long, sensual kiss, not caring if the other students milling in
the halls saw them.

Then, even though he figured he knew the answer, Remy had to ask.

"Don't suppose you can chill for a bit, bro?"

"You know I wanna, Rem, but you know I got work. Already late."

Before they split up on the steps, it was Trey's turn to grab Remy for a
hug and a quick kiss. Then a few rushed, tender words goodbye.

"Can't wait t' see you tomorrow, Rem. Be feelin for you, bro."

"Hell yeah, dawg -- same here! Hey, good luck with that OTHELLO
assignment. Text me if you need to."

"All good now, cause those books you be findin."

"Cool. Then text me, maybe, if you get horny later on. We can jack and cam
together."

"Imma text, but no way we be cammin. My damn little brother always be
'round."

Remy's brain was a whirl of ecstatic wonderment as he headed across the
street, dumbstruck at the black boy paradise that was Hope Academy.

Remy had worried for a while, back in Milwaukee, the way he couldn't help
eroticizing and lusting after black boys' beautiful, strong, young bodies,
and their insanely alluring cocks. But he ultimately refused to feel a whit
of shame -- it was just that he had a 'type' when it came to sex and the
kind of boy he found most attractive, the kind of boy that got him hardest.

Everyone had a 'type,' right? And it was often an 'opposites attract' kind
of thing, wasn't it? And it worked both ways -- most of the black boys he'd
been with the past few years were quite clear about how heavy, almost
exclusively, into white boys they were.

Remy's type, it turned out, was hot-looking black boys, with firm,
smooth-muscled bodies, handsome faces, and sexy hair.

Plus, Remy admitted to being a total size-queen, so his type also had to
have at least seven inches soft (more definitely equalled better). Remy
just liked the feel of a big dick better -- the meaty heft of it, stroking
it, sucking it, riding it.

But maybe his type was broadening this year -- not just Wren Damson,
obviously, but he'd also noticed (because he was always noticing hot dudes)
that there were actually a few good-looking young white boys at No Hope --
buff, handsome jock boys, with bodies as lean-muscled as his own. Lee, of
course, in his PE class, but several others -- like that cute, shy,
embarrassed blonde boy from Orientation he'd seen a couple times in the
halls.

Ava had mentioned, over dinner the other night, that the new freshman class
at No Hope was actually twenty percent white -- ten students, all from
Prospect Park, the biggest cadre of white students in a freshman class
since the school had opened -- bringing the total number of white kids in
school to a little over 30.

Remy thought back to the locker-room talk earlier about sure-fire tips for
seducing young boys. Some of those white-boy young'uns, Remy could easily
see himself flirting with, especially the ones who gave off a 'gay curious'
vibe -- cute, never-fucked cherry boys, whose wide eyes, as they raked over
Remy's wife-beater-clad, hard-muscled body, seemed to say how desperately
curious they were to finally get with a boy.

As soon as he got up to his room, Remy decided to skip his run because he'd
had an intense session lifting and stretching already, so he finished his
math and history and chemistry, after which he put on the Dead at Fillmore
East, 4/26/71, and smoked a bowl. Then he texted Trey.

--Dude, at least tell me where you work so I can come over and suck your
cock on your break.

--<Horny Devil Icon>

Remy clicked on his flat-screen and stroked to a BEL AMI movie until his
mother came home. They had their now-usual couple of beers together, and
pitched in to make a big salad for dinner, mother and son both naked in the
kitchen, while they sipped beer and told each other about their day.

Ava laughed to hear about those horny, sexy boys jacking in the showers
after gym class, and the way Remy got hard describing it to her.

"It's always been my ultimate locker room fantasy! Buncha hot dudes jacking
together in the showers after a hard workout in PE. I bet every hot boy who
works out jacks off to that fantasy. And finally! It actually happened! So
damn hot! And it's gonna be like every damn day!"

Remy curled up in bed that night, finishing OTHELLO. Trey texted him around
11 to thank him again for helping with the soliloquy analysis he had to
present to the class tomorrow. Remy invited his friend to a sleep-over
Saturday night, which Trey thought he could definitely do.

Remy decided on some more Dead, some more porn, and a couple more puffs of
pot, to ready him for his j/o session later that night.

After finishing his bowl, he felt like a shower, just so he could soap up
his cock and muscle and start thinking sexy thoughts.

In the shower, he mind drifted to his new space-pirate fantasy. This time,
his roguish, space-pirate ass had been captured by Empress Wren, who was
High Priestess of the Andromeda Galaxy. She had Remy chained in some sort
of force field where he could barely move. His ripped, young-muscled body
strained and writhed, trying to break free.

But what had him most overpowered wasn't so much the force-field, as it was
Wren herself -- her svelte, gorgeous body, near-naked, with just a thread
of gold chain around each of her small breasts, a thin golden chain hanging
low around her waist, with a golden chain trailing down over her bare,
smooth, insanely beautfiul pussy, which looked moist and luscious and
begging to be ravished.

His huge, excited, space-raider cock jutted out, over a foot long, and as
seemingly thick as his fore-arm.

Remy's actual dick felt painfully hard as he soaped and stroked it,
deliciously so -- huge and long and throbbing. He swore it was bigger than
he'd ever seen it. Maybe his real-life dick was morphing into his
space-rogue j/o-fantasy cock!

His throbbing balls felt like they might rupture open when he came.

Around her head, Emrpess Wren wore a gold and diamond circlet. Her gaze on
his hard, bulging muscle and enormous cock was a look of evil, leering,
imminent lust -- which caused both Space Remy's and Real Remy's cock to
pulsate in eager anticipation.

Suddenly, these weird, brown and black tentacles began streaming up from
the floor! They looked like thick, glistening, endlessly long cocks, in
various tones of black-boy flesh! There must have been a dozen of them, and
they began sliding all over Space Remy's naked body, poking in his ass,
sliding across his lips, two of them wrapping around his jutting cock, one
sliding back and forth under his nut-sac, two of them teasing each of
Remy's hands insistently until he started jacking them.

They were incredible-looking! Long and luscious, hard and fleshy, like the
biggest, thickest, longest, most luscious-looking black cocks he'd ever
seen -- wet and gleaming and dripping pre-cum!

The tentacle-cock frotting his ass began fucking him, and then another soon
worked its way into his stretched open hole, sliding in next to its mate,
and so Remy Rogue was now being DP'd by two enormous, endlessly long black
cocks, while he jacked a couple more off and deep-throated another. It was
ecstasy.

All the while Queen Wren fingered herself feverishly, staring at the
insanely hot boy-sex scene with burning eyes.

The huge black tentacle-cock in Remy's mouth erupted, and he was awash in
hot, thick, semen, hungrily trying to swallow it all. The black cock
withdrew from his mouth, and Queen Wren undid the golden chain around her
waist. Remy's cock started pulsating wildly.

Sure enough, she rose up and floated through the air, over to his captive
body, and -- suspended magically in mid-air -- began working her cunt over
his cum-glazed lips. The taste and lusciousness of her pussy electrified
Remy, sending lust-bolts shooting through every nerve in his body.

He couldn't tongue fast or deep enough, as he continued jacking a couple of
giant black dicks, getting fucked by the two in his ass, while a half-dozen
other huge black tentacle-cocks played sensuously all over his body.

Empress Wren, meanwhile, had flipped her body around, suspending herself
ethereally in the air, so now she was sucking off Remy's cock while he ate
her soft, luscious pussy. Remy Rogue had thought it had been ecstasy
before, when it was just him in the midst of a black-dick tentacle-orgy,
but this was real ecstasy.

Remy shot a load that was like the kind of load he shot when he hadn't cum
for a week. It was one of those climaxes where he shot rope after rope of
thick, creamy cum, and didn't even stop cumming between squirts -- it just
kept steadily oozing out between every clenched spasm.

What the absolute fuck is happening to me? Remy wondered, half-giggling,
half-scared shitless.

He was too amped for sleep, so he grabbed a sketch book and sat up in bed,
listening to a Tim Buckley album, while he worked on a portrait of Wren
Damson, loving to watch her gorgeous face emerge on the blank page.

As his pencil worked, bringing his girl-crush to life, he enjoyed the
challenge of trying to imagine what those small gorgeous breasts looked
like naked. He spent a long time trying to get them as sensuously perfect
as they always were in his j/o fantasies, stroking his hard-on with the
hand that wasn't drawing, staying firm and jutting and aroused by his nude
2D girl the entire time.

It was almost 2 AM when he finished. He'd flipped HAPPY/SAD over four
times, but he finally had a picture he was proud of -- Wren Damson, face
and hair and eyes and lips absolutely perfect, with small, ripe, luscious,
achingly perfect breasts that got his cock tingling every time he gazed at
them.

He tacked the drawing up right over his bed, kissed it goodnight, and went
to sleep with a goofy, utterly content grin on his face.

Comments welcome
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