Date: Sun, 17 Aug 2008 04:18:21 -0700 (PDT) From: Tim Stillman Subject: g/m adult/young friend "Cory's First Fuck" Cory's First Fuck By Timothy Stillman (For Cory, who asked, with love) It was a cold rainy night in The City of Lights, and Cory, age 15, 5 ft. 5 inches, long thick yellow hair, willowy body, his green rimmed shades in his left pocket of his Wrangler's-never be without his sunglasses...you never knew when the sun would open up midnight and let some more happiness in. In his jacket, his cell...never know when friends would call up...for Cory was a tremendously cute boy who didn't know whether or not he liked being called cute. He wore Spidey undies and the night said, hey you, handsome, sweet faced dude, why not get out of the drizzly and take in a flick? So that was why he was here, horny, as always, ready to cum at the first touch of his hand, experienced, but with a deep yearning to be penetrated and to feel so close, closer than oral; he wanted sex this time; he wanted his small boned bow-like body to be held and touched and he wanted his boy pussy to be fucked; so he could say, yes, this is me, right? This is wot I am and I am right and good and still funny...still the sweet clown dancing round...but I want it in me for sure, so I take in a Saturday midnight movie and I sit right down by someone-him? Don't look. Don't cheat the eyes with the shadow sitting beside you. But a guy's got a boner and its dark in here and a guy can't be blamed for putting his hand down his jeans and just petting his cock a little, the head of the 5.2 incher that happened to be laying right at Spidey's greedy mouth per chance and leaning back, Cory, in the hard seat with his body nicely arched and a lean glance at the shadow beside him. And a glance back at Cory at the same instant. Rush hand out of Wrangler's and away from Spidey's feast of the night, cough politely in one hand, pay attention to the shadow show on the screen. And then. Interminable seconds, minutes, and years, a hand...a man's hand, big and warm and full of fingers touched Cory's thin left leg and Cory stopped breathing. He sucked in his stomach almost to his backbone and he felt his tits grow hard as little berries. No, come on, now, he thought, don't let this be a joke...be a kind of little laugh; oh no, the hand dropped like a large weight on his jeans crotch. He felt his hard on go ballistic. There is sticky gum under my butt on this sticky seat, his mind said. Cory brushed the thought away. He spread his legs and the man's hand reached and rubbed and the man whispered in Cory's ear, hot and sexual breath and words, "unbuckle, unzip." As in a trance, Cory did just that and was pants open and Spidey exposed with that wonderful pole of Cory's sticking straight up. His balls hurt, they were so tight, and his foreskin was aching to be pulled down, to be Cory unpeeled. The man took Cory's trembling hand and put it on the man's cock, already jeans unzipped, no underwear, right there on that big cock that Cory felt with amazement, thinking I want you to be the one. I want you to undress me and kiss me and love me and hold me and know that wherever you go, after me, I will be imprinted for always in your mind like a photograph that will never fade. Love is true here. In Paris. The language the man spoke was with his hand as it slipped into the boy's undies, as it touched and measured, as Cory moaned, in as far as he could tell an empty theatre, save for them. "Anything you want," the man said, as Cory took a chance and looked at him in the glow light of the projection of the film and the film itself as it danced light and dark on them. He had a tentative smile on his face, the man. He had eyes that seemed, can't say for sure, that were kind, and boy and man looked at each other as they bucked in rhythm to masturbating one another. As Cory came in the man's hand and all over the kiddie undies, as the man came in Cory's boy grip tight and hard, Cory smiled at him, a crumbly sweet smile of a boy who needed this thing more than ever now. "I want," he panted, in orgasmic heaven, "for you to put your man cock up my arsehole and fill me with all the cum you have in you." At that, Cory's love pole and the man's as well were getting hard again. "Zip and buckle," the man said, his voice commanding, but not overbearing or rude, "I know just the place." So they zipped and buckled, their hands wet with each other, and they left the theater to an audience of empty as the charlatan life on the screen continued on, to no eyes at all. The man was wearing Gap clothing and had put on a Burberry coat, buttoning it against the wind. He was maybe in his thirties. He had long brown hair. He was tall. His body was rangy and well-muscled. He walked easily and put his long arm round Cory, drawing him to his side, protecting him as best he could from the cold rain and harsh wind and the city of night flowed on. The hotel room was small and overheated. The bidet was broken. The wallpaper was brown and some of it was torn. But the bed was nice and seemed out of place. It had white clean sheets and a brown coverlet. And the light was glowy orange from the ceiling bulb. The night was quiet and traffic nil. And the man whispered to the boy he held and began stripping with delicacy the boy's clothes off his delicious body. The man too was naked now. A little over 6 incher, nice pubes, a bit of chest hair, a face that was handsome, with big liquidy black eyes. They held tight. Their erections against each other. The man looked at Cory all over. Touched. Marveled. He luxuriated in the presence of this lovely golden young boy and said to him as he licked Cory's neck and down to his erection, "You are going to break a million hearts. You are translucent. You will make boys and men jump into the Seine when you have gone from them. Left and Right Bank and all through the town. You will cut a swathe of love and sex and being wanted wherever you go." Their chests together as they deep throated each other, sucking like life's elixir on each other's tongues, as the man pushed with gentle stair step degrees the boy to the bed, and suddenly Cory was himself, individual, with the long naked legs and the chewable narrow butt, and the cell phone in his pocket rang. The man and boy looked at each other as "Crazy Car" tune played. Then they laughed. The man said "The Naked Brothers Band...Nat and Alex Wolff" and the boy smiled a knowing smile, it was going to happen-he wasn't too young...not too old...just right...then Cory searched in the thrown to the floor clothes, to his cell, picked it up and clicked it off. "You like young boys, mister?" Cory asked, sweetly. Playing a tune in his head. Alex was hot. And so were the man and boy. "I love young boys...ah..." The man rubbed Cory's hard on as he helped the boy kneel on the bed on his hands and knees. "Cory," the golden elf boy said, as he bent his head and arched his back, as the man put on a condom. Spread some cream on it, then some cream on his arsehole. "Cory," the man said, with his French words and loving lilting accent, as the wind hammered at the poorly sealed window, the cold getting in now and the room getting less hot. "..Have you ever been fucked before?" Cory didn't say a word. Didn't move. "Well," the man said, "it's going to hurt some. But I'll stop when you want me to." Cory nodded, suddenly unsure of this, then yes, he wanted it so much, and he would suffer any pain for it...any at all. Begin. Cock at boy pussy. Cory holding head down, blood rushing to it, as the man spread the young boy's legs apart further and entered the man cock into the muscle of Cory's virgin no more boy hole, and it made Cory shiver, it made the man hold Cory's hips tighter, so kitchen stove hot there, as the boy felt himself penetrated, as the cock's mushroom head flared in him. Cory whimpered. The man stopped. "No, no," Cory panted, "Keep going" as the man pushed another bit into Cory's most private, most secret place, as he felt his muscles, his skin pull back and up and out at the unfamiliar feeling. Different than a finger. Different than a vibrator. Real skin. Real flesh. Real cock. The man pushing into the hot tight hole and up to the love muscle just up ahead, as the boy broke into a sweat and the man held him round his waist as the cock went further and the man thought I can feel my heart breaking already, and with that he said, "Ready, Spiderman?" Cory managed a nod. He was breathing as hard as the man. It hurt, it felt massive inside him, even a six incher should not feel massive inside his little boy hole, but it felt gigantic, like pain of a toothache felt huge and made his mouth the size of his body, it seemed. Oh God mister, Cory thought, his body wrapped in a cock, the cock wrapped in him. Then he closed his eyes and saw immense red. The vein in his head and neck almost erupted. Then he gathered his will and strength and said best he could, his eyes leaking, "F-f-fuck me, Mister." Which the man began to do, as Cory naked child on his knees and arms and hands felt that first shove, like a whole hand was in there, and Cory became not himself for a while, he became the world, he became pain, he became fire, he became a dancing star of opal in the bright night air. Everything in him was full. The man's cock was fucking him now. Fucking. Like he was a man himself. Fucking and screaming both man and boy. Fucking in and out and nothing existed but his little boy arsehole and the cock of a man whose name he was never to know, fucked in and out and made fire life and pleasure quench the fire, and the man on his knees fucked the boy in and out and the boy's hard on detumesced as his penis and balls flapped back and forth and the man's balls hit Cory's arse and there was only the work of sexuality, as there was the work of the boy pushing his arse to the man's cock and somehow the man getting even deeper and rubbing the love muscle that sent out spasms of feelings through the boy he had never known before existed and the man fucked harder and harder and said "Cory, I love you." And said, breathless, "Cory, remember me," and the boy's head was a hive filled with bees buzzing so madly about. And the man stopped at once...no, Cory thought, begged, no don't stop, don't pull out. The man fucked deeply...once twice three...then the cum emitted, exploded, the cum rushed into Cory and he felt the man cock pulsating and cumming and the cum inside his boy pussy filling with life and love and adventure and the first time of many and it hurt, his hole was raw and the spunk fired against that rawness. Then after more cums, then after the cock had finally spent itself, Cory fell to his stomach, as the man fell on the back of the beautiful golden child. Then Cory turned over as the man got up to take off his cum filled condom. Cory was angry. He hadn't known. He had thought the man had bare backed him. He had imagined the cum in him. The man disposed of the condom. Then he lay down with the boy who was happy again. He had finally been fucked. He had finally been made love to. He curled like a kitten against the protective naked man body. And purred. They slept a bit, and then woke to coming dawn, the lights of the sky mingling with the lights of the city. They kissed. They dressed. They left to have croissants and chocolate at a street café. They touched each other's faces and they laughed and talked and the boy thanked the man and the man thanked the boy, saying, "You taught me much, Cory." Cory was puzzled. "But I'm a little kid, how can I teach a man anything?" The man smiled cryptically and finished his croissant. He stood up, put money on the small rickety table and said, "My Cory." And he smiled sadly. Touched Cory's cheek with his left hand. Then he turned and went on his way. Cory's bum was sore as hell. But it had been worth it. He headed to home, head full of excuses to explain his absence. He turned back to look at the man in the Burberry coat, as the man turned a corner a block away, then was gone. And Cory said to no one in particular, "I wanted you to stay. You could have. You still can." No wonder the man was alone. "I love you," he said to the man and the memory. Then he walked all the way home and dawn in the city had never and would never be the same to him again. The pavements were still wet from last night's rain. The air was still cold. But the rising sun in its majesty was already burning the rain from the sidewalks and the streets. He had much to contemplate and set about doing so.