Date: Mon, 5 Nov 2001 06:20:32 EST
From: Roarrr201@aol.com
Subject: Deadly Sins Part 2

DEADLY SINS

Written by: Roarrr201@aol.com
All rights reserved.


First the usual disclaimer: If you are offended by graphic descriptions of
gay sex, you should stop reading now.

This story is a fantasy. As fantasies go, the rules and norms of real life
don't apply here. But don't confuse fantasy and real life. Always play
safe: otherwise you might risk your life.


DEADLY SINS


Part II

"Easy, boy, easy!,"

The man's voice was thick with lust and he had clearly some trouble to
sound convincingly stern.

But the kneeling boy seemed not to hear. His head bobbed still frantically
up and down; his lips made still wet, smacking sounds as they slid
impestously back and forth on the man's thick, hard cock; his tongue still
swirled in high speed around the huge dickhead that filled most of his
mouth and almost made him gag when he pushed his face forward and buried
his nose in the man's wiry crotch hair; he still sucked as hard and greedy
as he could on the man's huge cock and still tried to stuff as much of the
huge shaft down into his slurping, noisily sucking mouth as possible.

Despite his words the man did nothing to stop the boy. Obviously pleased to
be serviced he leaned passively against the wall, hands arrogantly posed on
his hips, and watched the quickly moving head in front of his lap with cold
eyes. He smiled faintly to himself whenever he found his long, hard cock
once again buried so deep in the constricting throat that the hairs on his
big, plump balls got for a second glued to the boy's spit-soaked chin. Just
the man's passivity seemed to incite the boy to yet greater effort, and his
tongue swabbed more wildly, the suction of his hot mouth grew stronger and
louder, and the rythm of the bobbing head faster and even more
demanding. He gulped and sucked thirstily, cupped the over-sized balls that
he had pulled out of the man's pair of black trousers too, moaned, gurgled,
slurped, and tried to get even better leverage for sucking hard, impatient
to reach the heart of the matter.

The man watched, unblinking, as the boy's mouth hungrily devoured his dick
again, attacking, retreating, advancing powerfully, withdrawing slowly, and
against his will he marveled at the boy's skill to stimulate his cock to
even greater hardness. When the wet, smacking noises reached a new height
of intensity and the ravenous way the boy's head danced at his groin seemed
to become just a blur of motion the man suddenly sprang to life. Quickly he
stopped the boy's frantic motions with firm hands.

"Easy!," he said again and held the head still, making sure that his cock
was completely buried in the warm cavern of the boy's willing, thrilling
throat. For a second they stayed like that, the boy frozen in mid-motion,
the man's huge hands possessivley placed on the finely chiseled head that
he pressed firmly against his crotch. The long, fat cock throbbed and
pulsed and jerked in the boy's mouth and his lips strained with the effort
to absorb the powerful dimensions of the massive, vein-ridged shaft, but he
still worked with tongue and lips, slurping strongly, eager to make the
man's jism gush.

Impatient, unwilling to give the boy what he wanted, the man pulled back
and his glowingly red dick left the boy's mouth with a fat, juicy 'plop'
that sounded as if someone had just pulled the cork out of an old bottle of
wine. Breathing hard, the boy whimpered with loss and starred cross-eyed at
the massive, shiny shaft that stuck out of the man's open fly, bouncing
enticingly up and down right in front of the gaping, drooling mouth it had
just left. Desperate to feed himself the hard cock once again the boy tried
to home in on it but the man stopped him rudely. Grabbing the boy's chin
with one of his big hands, he forced him to look up.

"You wanna get done with this, huh?," said the man hoarsely. Although he
whispered his voice sounded big and booming - as if he had never learnt to
tone it down. "You want this to be fast, huh? But I don't! No, I want this
to last!"

"Please, Mr. Pagett... please, just let me..."

Instead of finishing his sentence the boy reached out for the man's cock
that was still as thick and hard as before. But Pagett slapped the groping
hand away.

"Listen, Julian," he said, "listen! I've got to do some thinking. I've..."

The man's deep-chested voice trailed off when he saw how a faint smile
appeared on the boy's shiny lips. His eyes darkened and he hesitated for a
second but then he grabbed Julian's shoulders with both his hands and
yanked the trembling boy brutally up to his feet. Suddenly Julian felt the
man's hot breath on his face.

"Just you smirk, boy!," Pagett hissed angrily while he shook Julian, "just
smirk! But, yeah, I've done some thinking and I think that I've sold my
soul too cheap. Way too cheap!"

"What are you talking about?," said Julian coldly.

"You know what I'm talking about! I'm talking perjury! It's a deadly sin,
right?"

"It's not!," snapped Julian. "Pride is. But not perjury."

"Yeah, you would know! Sure, you're a good Christian... you just have to be
after all the lessons Father Flannigan taught you. I'm sure they were all
about sin!"

That made Julian loose his temper. "What do you want,?" he yelled in sudden
anger and tried to wriggle himself out of the man's powerful hands, but
then he froze and checked himself. Nervously his eyes darted to the door
and he held his breath, listening attentively if someone - a teacher who
worked late or a pupil who ran some special errant after classes - would
come to see who had screamed at the top of his voice in the dimly-lit,
deserted labyrinth of the school's basement. When everything remained quiet
Julian's eyes wandered slowly back to Pagett's face. As if to make up for
his outburst he whispered now, but his tone had lost nothing of its
arrogance. "What do you want?," he repeated slowly.

But Pagett gave no answer. He just starred at Julian for a long moment,
holding the boy like a doll in front of himself, and Julian starred back
defiantly. The stuffy, over-heated room fell completely silent. Just the
monotonous thuds of a distant machine, muffled by thick walls, proved that
the rest of the world still existed. After some time the man's steel-hard
grip on the boy's shoulders began to slacken but their eyes stayed locked
and Julian was still firmly held in place. Every now and then he felt the
man's thick, hard cock at his lap and he blinked nervously each time the
huge dickhead brushed against his pants.

"We've made a deal!," whispered the boy urgently when the silence finally
became oppressive. "Let me do my bit now."

Still the man gave no answer nor did he move. Hesitatingly Julian reached
for his dick again. This time he met with no resistance and so he placed
his small hands on the long shaft and held it tight, surprised to find it
still as hard as a dick could get. Slowly he began to stroke the massive,
throbbing rod that was slick with his own spit - and right at that moment
Pagett spoke again.

"You despise me, don't you,?" said the man while his black eyes burnt into
Julian's blue pupils. His voice was suddenly soft but yet it teemed now
even more strongly with agression than before. When Julian tried to say
something the man cut him short.

"Yeah, you despise me," Pagett said, "I know that. I'm not your fuckin'
priest. I'm different. Very different. He's fuckin' pretty Prince Valiant,
all smooth, elegant, long-nosed and posh. Blond and blue eyes. With soft
hands, a big smile, big teeth, and the right accent, of course. Kind of
fuckin' aristocratic. I'm a brute. Yeah. Massive, thick-set, big, burly and
dark. My nose got broken twice and it shows. Huge rough hands, shirt and
pants all dirty. I don't smell of incense and soap, I smell of sweat and
oil. I stink - as you'd say. He's much younger. Yeah, the fuckin' Father
could be my son. Funny, huh? And I gained all my muscles the hard way, at
work, not by dog-paddlin' in some fuckin' pool or goin' to the gym, so they
ain't pretty. They're just big, hard muscles. Too big for your taste, huh?"

Wide-eyed, his face a frozen mask of rejection, the boy listened in a
mixture of disgust and fascination. It would have been easy for him to
complete Pagett's list of faults: There was something decidely primitive
about the man's roughly hewn features, his black eyes had an
discomfortingly intense stare, a narrow front, bushy eyebrows and
voluptously full lips suggested a scarcely controlled greed, whenever he
spoke the man's voice boomed and reverberated agressively in your ears, he
smelled not only of sweat and oil, but also of nicotine since he was a
hopeless chain-smoker, his hands were like shouvels, his gait was clumsy
with strength, his short neck as thick as a tree trunk, the huge muscles of
arms and chest stretched the worn fabric of his faded t-shirt to the limit
and Julian had this idea that one day they would rip the seams apart just
by their sheer size.

He had always avoided the man, had feared him even. But of course he had
come across him ever so often between classes - and invariably the man's
insistent, impudent stares had made him want to run. Although they had
hardly ever spoken with each other, Julian had always known that the man
lusted after him - and he had hated him for this unwanted, agressive
admiration. He despised everything about Pagett. He hated him for
everything he was - and for the deal he had made with him too. Worst of all
were the man's ever dirty fingernails. Or maybe all those hair.

As if he had read Julian's mind the man continued in his low singsong:

"And I ain't smooth!," Pagett growled, tipping his pelvis up and forward,
thrusting his thick, hard cock into the boy's clasping hands, "No, I'm
hairy. Hairy all over - hairy fingers, hands, arms, chest, stomach, back,
legs, ass - you name it, I've got lots of hair there. I bet you think I
rarely shave since there's always this strong stubble on my face. But I do
shave, Julian, I shave twice each day but somehow the stubble only seems to
grow even more strongly the more I shave. I bet Father Flannigan's checks
were always smooth as a baby's bottom, huh?"

In contrast to his words, Pagett's eyes gleamed with a mischevious joy and
Julian felt this exaltation also in the man's jutting erection: the massive
shaft leaped and jerked powerfully between his palms and seemed to become
even bigger and harder with each new verse in this weird litany while the
man never stopped to dry-hump his huge cock in Julian's hands, rocking his
narrow hips back and forth. Confused the boy sensed that this outbrust of
self-abasments was paradoxically meant to humiliate him - and that the man
was aroused by this game of rhetorical subjugation. Gulping hard, his mind
swirling with irritating thoughts, the boy realized also his own excitement
- a strangely twisted excitement that was new to him. In his mind, in his
plan, everything had seemed to be so easy, and till this moment it had
worked out wonderfully well, but now he felt suddenly overpowered,
transfixed, banned to this spot in front of this weird, sweating man who
seemed to recite a magic spell, designed to leave him spineless and
feeble. At the one hand he wanted to run, to leave, to turn his back on
Pagett, but at the other hand he felt a strange twinge in his chest, a soft
tingle, that was as pleasant as it was painful. And of course there was the
man's cock in his hands: his palms seemed to be glued to its hot skin and
every throb and pulsation of the huge rod that was way too thick to close
the hand around it felt like his own heartbeat and took his breath away.

Startling the boy out of his stupor, Pagett suddenly grabbed one of
Julian's wrists. With swift, determined movements he pulled the boy's hand
up to his face and ran it over his square jaws. "Here," he hissed fiercely,
"here, boy, feel my stubble! Feel it! Scratchy, huh? Hurts, huh?" Wriggling
violently Julian tried to no avail to free his hand. It hurt indeed since
his open palm was so violently pressed down on the man's cheek and moved so
quickly up and down that the strong stubble, brushed the wrong way, felt
like a rasp and gashed his skin. He gasped but the true shock was not the
pain - it was the strange intimacy of this violent touch. In comparison,
the fact that the man's cock had been buried in his mouth and that he had
sucked it hard seemed almost insignificant and impersonal. Somehow this
here was different - and Julian did not want it. He hated it and he wanted
it to stop - if only he knew how to muster the strength to make it stop!

Registering the boy's confusion, Pagett chuckled softly. "You want more?,"
he said in his booming voice and released Julian's hand, dropping it like a
useless, broken toy. In a blur of quick motions that made his torso ripple
the man discarded his tee-shirt before the boy had a chance to regain his
breath. As Julian starred at the man a wave of heat washed over him and he
started to sweat as though struck by a sudden fever. In no time at all the
starched shirt and the short trousers of his school uniform clung
disagreeably to his wet skin. The scent made things even worse: the
suffocatingly strong smell of man sweat that emanated from Pagett's hot
body and reached out for Julian like a polluted bank of clouds. Half naked,
proud and very pleased with himself, Pagett stood for a second still in
front of the boy and just his powerful, muscle-packed chest heaved lightly
as he whispered hoarsely: "See! There's more! More hair! Lots of it. A
jungle. You like? You wanna touch it? Come on, boy. Feel me! Feel a real
man!"

But Julian did not move. He felt paralyzed by the strange twinge in his
chest, that pleasurable pain which rendered him weak and breathless. So he
just stood and starred. Pagett had not been lying: he was hairy as a
bear. And just as strong too. His torso was a massive sculpture of hard
muscles, an elaborate combination of thick pecs, bulging deltoids, flexing
lats, and hard abdominals. Nervously Julian's eyes roamed over the almost
absurdely thick neck that spread into broad, heavily muscled shoulders,
over the high, firm pectorals and the huge, iron-strong arms. Almost every
square inch of the man's frighteningly massive physique was covered with a
luxuriant fur of dark, strong hair that shimmered mattly in the room's dim
light. Hairs were spread all over over the two huge slabs of meaty pecs;
under the collarbone those two currents of virile hair met like rivers that
run high to flow down through the deep cleft that divided the man's
muscle-plated, upper chest into two parts, and then ran still further down
over his muscle etched belly, clinging to all the curves and ravines of
that blue-print of a six-pack like a dark, frozen waterfall. His arms too
were coated with those thick, stiff hairs - not just his forearms, but also
his big hands and his impressively developed upper arms. Only the two hard
mounds of the man's grapefruit-sized biceps were really smooth and looked
therefore even bigger and fatter.

Once again Pagett gripped Julian's hand and lifted it, as if the boy had no
will of his own. But this time he was less violent, more gentle. Guiding
Julian's fingers, the man ran them slowly, playfully, through the dark
thicket of wiry, glistening hair on his upper torso, and the boy watched,
frozen in an inexplicable passivity, how his trembling fingers created
crowns in Pagett's thick chest hairs, brushed them the wrong way, smoothed
them, twirled and stroked and twirled again. Surprisingly the fur felt soft
on Julian's fingers, not scratchy at all - soft as silk and as cool as the
quietly running water of a clear, small stream. The strange twinge in the
boy's chest became stronger and even more suffocating.

"What's all this?," Julian croaked feebly in an immense act of will when he
suddenly felt one of Pagett's fleshy nipples at his fingers. "Let me go!
Please let go!" But the man just went on as if he hadn't heard: using
Julian's hand like an instrument, he stimulated his tit that was almost
completely hidden under the thick grow on his chest until it had swelled to
complete hardness and peaked through the shimmering surface of hairs. "Tell
me about your priest," he said softly while he pressed Julian's palm
against the big bulge of his left pectoral, nearly crushing the delicate
limp under his big, callused palm. "Tell me about him. I bet his body is as
smooth as his face, right?"

For a long moment the boy blinked, as though he had difficulties to
concentrate, and his mouth gapped. Writhing in discomfort Julian struggled
with the impression that he felt the man's heartbeat in his hand - and that
he even heard it: low and steady thumps seemed to resonate in his ears like
the toll of a mighty bell. In itself the sound was anything but unpleasant
but joined together with Pagett's overwhelming physical presence, with the
heat of his body, with its smell, it took Julian's breath away. The man
spoke again while Julian still tried to will himself out of the strange
stupor that made him incapable to move and the deep, grumbling tones seemed
to reach Julian not through his ears but right through the nerves in his
palm. Pagett's powerful chest muscles strained and flexed ever so briefly
under his touch; he felt light vibrations in the man's wide chest and this
almost imperceptible stimulus communicated the words just as well as
soundwaves - just as well and much more intimately. "Tell me about his
size," Pagett whispered hoarsely, "tell me about his cock. How much has he
got, your ever horny priest? About my size? Bigger? Smaller? Tell me,
Julian. Compare!"

Dazzled and against his will the boy looked down. Pagett's cock was as hard
as before, right there in front of Julian's crotch: a thick bar of
throbbing man-meat, slick with drool, the big, satiny head red with
anticipation. It bounced slowly up and down in a never-ending struggle
against its own heavy weight and against gravity, but somehow, against all
probability, the massive rod always regained its equilibrium. Now that he
had a chance to have a good look at it Julian realized that Pagett's cock
differed as much from Father Flannigan's dick as he was different from the
young priest. While the Father's dick was an elegantly curved arch of
throbbing meat that combined strength and beauty in equal measures the cock
of the hairy hand was the very image of the whole man: sturdy and
power-packed but also ungainly and roughly hewn. Straight as an arrow and
frighteningly massive it resembled a dangerous weapon, a huge cannon, which
seemed ready to go off at any second. Pagett's skin was darkly hued and his
dick too shone like polished bronze, except for the over-sized, plump head
that glowed in an almost shockingly deep red. In contrast, a painter would
have needed a wide array of subdued colors for a lifelike picture of Father
Flannigan's cock: white and blue in many different shades for the shaft's
skin and for the many veins that ran across it, plus a soft pink for the
enticing head - a pink that seemed to match the color of Julian's tongue
and never failed to make his mouth water. And when it came to size
. . . well, Julian needed some time to make up his mind.

"You're not as big as he is," he murmured then in a strangled voice and his
hand that was suddenly free from Pagett's grip slowly reached down to
reclaim the man's hard, pulsing meat, "he's bigger. A bit. Maybe an inch or
so. Yes, he's bigger."

In reality, the exact opposite was true: Pagett's dick was not only
considerably thicker but also even longer than Flannigan's impressively
shaped dick. In fact, the hairy hand was so exceptionally well endowed that
Julian's heart had sunk when he had first seen the man's dick in all its
full glory. At first sight, in the dim light of the low-ceilinged cellar,
it had looked more like a baseball club than like a cock - much too big,
anyhow, to suck it down your throat as he had promised to do. Much to his
own surprise, spurred as much by the fear to fail as by the prospect that
his plan would be fulfilled in just a few moments if he persisted, Julian
had quickly managed to handle the huge bar - if only at a price: his throat
felt sore and hurt whenever he gulped. But yet he lied to the man - for
reasons he himself could not have named. Somehow it was important for him
not to tell the truth, to pretend that Pagett had lost the silly contest he
himself had initiated. It seemed like an act of loyality to Father
Flannigan to lie - and so the boy lied without thinking and without the
slightest qualm.

However, Pagett's self-confidence was not easily shattered. "I see," he
chuckled softly, clearly unimpressed, "So that is his bait for all you
boys. Father Flannigan's wonderous wand, huh? One touch - and you're under
its spell, right? But he made good use of it: you sure know how to suck a
big cock, boy! Looks like the cute Father trained you well."

With a sly grin on his face Pagett placed his huge palms over Julian's
hands that tried in vain to reach around the thick, hard shaft of the man's
cock. At first he just held them as though the boy would be too weak to
carry the massive weight all by himself but then he began to press Julian's
fingers down onto the plump rod in an iron-hard grasp. The throbbing pulse
in the engorged cock became even stronger and Julian's heart hammered
madly, as if trying to keep pace. Although he tried he could not tear his
eyes away from the man's hard cock. It seemed incredible now that he had
managed to gulp this huge rod down into his throat, all the way down, up to
the hilt, until his nose had been buried in Pagett's sweaty crotch-hair,
and he had no idea how to do it again without causing severe damage to his
larynx. Slowly even more blood accumulated in the already frighteningly
swollen member and it seemed to grow, to become even bigger and harder and
fatter, forcing Julian's hand wider apart despite the strength of Pagett's
grip. The boy gasped and stammered but his befuddled words were easily
drowned by Pagett's booming drawl.

"What did you like best?," the man said, "Tell me! Flannigan's kisses? His
hard cock in your mouth? The taste of his cum? How he jerked you off? The
way he licked at your dick and sucked you? His fingers in your asshole? Or
was it how he fucked you?"

This time Julian stayed stubbornly silent and he avoided the man's
gaze. But of course Pagett persisted.

"Tell me, slut boy!," he said in a soft, deep-chested drawl and his cock
throbbed even more forcefully in Julian's hands with each word, "Tell me!
That little bugger William seems to have made quite a fuss about
Flannigan's skill at fuckin' his tight little boy cunt. How the Father
could never get enough of his ass. And plowed him real deep and hard. And
talked dirty while he was at it. Tell me, Julian! Is he really that good?
Did he fuck you like that too? Did he ram the cum out of your balls too
just by taking you hard and deep? Did he ask you for sloppy seconds too?
Did me made you too sit on..."

Suddenly Pagett paused in mid-sentence and he searched the boy's face with
questioning, alert eyes. Julian could have sworn his features were just as
calm and set as before but yet something must have betrayed him - a quick
flutter of his long eyelashes, a shadow that had quickly passed over his
face, or a sudden gleam in his eyes. He did not know what it had been - but
he sensed that Pagett had intuitively guessed his secret. And he was right.

Slowly a broad grin spread over the man's face and then he whistled
softly. "Hey," he said in subdued triumph, drawing out the vowels in each
word as if to relish them, "now I get it! Now at last I get it! This is all
about jealousy. You're jealous! Jealous of that silly slut William! You
were only Father Flannigan's second best boy and he was the favorite
slut. He got fucked as often as he wanted - and you came away
empty-handed. At least when it came to your itching butthole. Now I've got
it! The holy man has his principles, I guess - he never fucks more than one
boy per day. Otherwise it would be sin. And since he fucked Bill at least
once each day, you never had a chance. Poor boy! Poor Julian! But then Bill
suddenly got struck by deep remorse and he grassed, and finally you had
your chance to get him out of the way and save the horny Father's neck - to
have him and his thick, hard cock all for yourself!"

The man laughed whole-heartedly now and his massive, muscle-plated body
shook with mirth. Jerking in erratic spasms, his thick cock slipped out of
Julian's sweaty palms and that finally broke the spell the man had cast
over him. Relieved the boy sighed, stepped back, and began to turn away,
but just one look out of Pagett's coal black eyes tied him again with
invisible fetters.

"You're bad, Julian!", drawled the man in his profound bass, "You're even
worse then I thought! A scheming boy slut, crazy for hard dick and cum. You
never batted an eyelid when they took Bill away to the reformatory because
of all his 'false allegations' and his hysteric oaths that all he said was
true. You'd stick at nothing, huh, just to have that man all for yourself?
You're bad, spoilt, ruthless, Julian! I like that in a boy."

When Julian remained quiet, the man gripped the boy's shoulders again and
then Pagett's face drew close. Recoiling from the nicotine stench, Julian
turned his head away but the man's face moved in coordination and came even
closer, so close that his stubbly jaws touched Julian's smooth chin, that
his lips almost brushed over the boy's mouth, and his deep-chested voice
became all silky and smooth. "But you're a fool too, Julian!," Pagett
whispered while he pushed his huge, hard erection into the boy's crotch,
"You're such a big fool! Why save your cherry for that bugger Flannigan? He
spurned it, right? Think revenge, boy! Have your revenge on him! Let me
fuck you and then go and tell him what he missed. I bet he told you were
still too tight, you still had to wait for the big moment. And yet he
fucked Bill like mad and he's your age. Fuck him! Fuck Father Flannigan!
Let me pop your cherry, Julian, and then tell him. That'll make his heart
bleed. That'll be his punishment for cheatin' on you!"

Pagett paused for a second, looked at Julian's cold, inscrutable face, and
then added in a firmer, more demanding tone: "Besides, your asshole is mine
anyway. You dragged me into this nasty business, remember? You said all I'd
have to do would be to talk to a bunch of old priests, right? But in the
end the fuckin' coppers showed up too! If I'd any idea how big this thing
got I would have asked for more than just one lousy blowjob for services
rendered! I'd asked for your tight ass, Julian! You owe me! Think what I
did for you. Think about it. You owe me! You owe me a good, hard fuck!"

Out of the blue the boy exploded in anger and a weird pride. "Shut up!," he
hissed venomously and pushed the man against the wall with surprising
strength, "Just shut up, you stinkin', dirty shithead! It's none of your
business - but, yeah, I want Father Flannigan to fuck me! I dream about it!
Yearn for it! Can't wait for it! I did everything I did to make him fuck
me! And I want to be fucked just by him and only by him and by no one else
than by him! Got it? Have you got that into your brainless head?"

Without a transition the man's mood changed to violent fury too. "Okay,
boy," he shouted and his voice boomed louder than ever before, "here we go!
You used me - now I'll use you! You promised me the blowjob of my lifetime
- so get down on your knees, slut boy, open up wide, and let me FUCK YOUR
FACE!!"

Forcefully Pagett pushed Julian down and then came upon him like a
blitz. Before he knew what was happening the boy found his head yanked
upwards, his lips parted by a brutal grip on his chin, and then Pagett's
giant dick began to enter his mouth. The man just shoved forward in one
mighty lunge and Julian's jaws ached with the effort of opening wide enough
to take the huge rod. The soft skin in the corners of his mouth tore, his
throat went numb and he gagged, but the man just stuffed more fat inches of
hard, throbbing dick into him, silencing his gurgling groans with a meaty
gag. In a split second the massive shaft was completely buried in Julian's
sore throat and Pagett froze, reverting in lightening speed from a
whirlwind of action to absolute immobility. He held Julian's delicate skull
with iron hands and pushed the boy's face against his sweaty crotch with
all his might, his fingers clenched up in Julian's soft hair. Cut off of
his air, the boy struggled, squirmed and writhed, and his nose, crushed in
the dense bush of the man's wiry, smelly crotch hair like the folded hood
of a crashed car, made funny, whistling noises. Trying to steady himself,
the boy grabbed Pagett's powerful thighs but only managed to tear his pants
down: some upper buttons gave way, on impulse Julian's hands tugged, and so
the dark cloth billowed quickly into a drab pool around the man's ankles.

Apart from his shoes and that ball of fabric on the floor Pagett was now
stark naked and in his mind Julian suddenly saw himself and the man through
the eyes of an observer: a slender boy, fully dressed in his school
uniform, kneeling in front of a mature and heavily-muscled naked man, the
boy's lips tightly wrapped around the thick base of the man's cock, his
cheeks swelled with the volume of the man's hard dick that stuck deep down
in his throat, spittle seeping out of the corners of his strained mouth and
drooling down his chin, his head held firmly in place by huge, hard hands,
the man's powerful body frozen in mid-motion, immobile except for the
slowly heaving chest, his mouth gapping in a silent snarl, all his big
muscles flexed and strained, his biceps bulging, the strong veins on his
wide chest and on his arms fighting passionately to break through the
darkly-hued skin that shone with a generous layer of sweat, his long,
strong fingers wrapped in the tangles of the boy's soft hair.

Slowly the vision faded. His eyes screwed up, lost in a darkness that knew
no boundaries, Julian felt nothing but the powerful pulse of Pagett's blood
on his palate. The pronounced beat set the tempo for his own heart too and
then that strange toll reverberated in his ears again: the toll of a huge
bell, a sound so profound and powerful that it caused a prickling sensation
and sent electric sparks through the boy's trembling body.

And then Pagett begun to fuck Julian's face. When the man moved Julian's
mind detached itself once again briefly from his body and he seemed to see
clearly how Pagett pulled back, how the mighty shaft of his throbbing cock
slowly, gardually, came into view as inch after inch slid out of the
crouching boy's mouth, glistening wetly, until only the big head still
stuck between the boy's clamping lips. He saw how Pagett stopped, held
still, and deliberatedly made his dick jerk; he could see the glistening
contours of the massive shaft, bright with a generous layer of spit, and
the man's huge balls that swayed and bounced in the tightly filled pouch
between his muscular, hairy thighs; he saw how the man looked frowningly
down on the small figure in front of himself, his eyes dark, his lips
curled in contempt, his square jaws grinding; he saw how Pagett flexed his
firm buttocks and his strong, hairy thighs, how his neck muscles tightened
into thick cords, how the man's knuckles turned white with intensified
pressure on the boy's head - and then total darkness descended upon Julian
again. He felt not only blinded but somehow his whole body seemed to
evaporate. Nothing of it seemed to be left than his lips, mouth, tongue and
throat that ached and tingled as Pagett rammed his giant cock back into him
and started to fuck. In a surge of panic Julian realized that he
experienced the full length of the man's cock only in that very moment. The
over-sized, plump dickhead pushed his tongue out of the way, crashed into
his tonsils, rubbed at his glotal-stop, and then the massive knob passed
this sensitive spot, slid forward, and suddenly the huge, fat rod reached
further down into Julian's body then ever before, filling not only his
throat, but his whole being.

Rolling his pelvis, throwing his weight in each mighty shove, holding
Julian's head in a death grip, the hairy, sweating man then began to pump
the boy's aching throat with his mammoth cock. Quickly his rocking hips
became a jackhammer of need, fucking long-dicking, hard-pumping strokes of
throbbing, pulsing cock in and out of Julian's drooling mouth, and his
huge, hairy balls bounced and slapped hard at the boy's chin with each of
his forceful strokes. Gagging and gurgling, his hands kneading the man's
muscular thighs, Julian fought for air. Any hope that this assault would
abate was clearly in vain, so he tried again and again to cope with the
almost unbearable pressure of all that big, hard meat. To be better
prepared for the next violent shove the boy opened his eyes and looked
up. The big man loomed over him and their eyes locked instantly. While
Pagett took still longer and longer strokes with his hard, throbbing shaft
Julian tried to read the man's face but his dark, inscrutable pupils gave
nothing away. Squirming desparately on his bruised knees, the boy realized
that he was really used like a toy, like a commodity. Pagett was rough and
reckless but despite the show of powerful agression that he put on he was
also cold and completely in control. He still held back, he did not give
Julian all of his male strength. He fucked Julian's face like he would have
fucked any other boy's mouth - in total selfishness, merely for his own
pleasure - but he did not act like a rejected admirer who took his
revenge. In some part of his mind Julian sensed that this was to be his
true humiliation - that he was not violently raped and not abused in a
deluge of dirty words, but only used as a handy cavity for the man's thick,
hard cock and for his cum - to be used in silence, as if in passing,
dispassionately, contemptously.

Mustering all his strength, Julian pushed the man's hands away from the
back of his head. Despite himself, without any thinking, he shifted his
position, and slammed his head forward, taking the whole of Pagett's huge
hard-on, swallowing it to the balls in just one violent, tight-lipped
slide. He sucked hungrily, pleased to hear the man gasp with surprise, and
then began to bounce his face back and forth, desparate to meet the man's
angry shoves with his gapping mouth. As if trying to hurt himself, to stab
himself with Pagett's giant dick, he lunged forward again and again, and
sucked the man's drilling cock down into his throat with inconsiderate
greed. He wanted to see the tables turned, he longed to hear the man groan
and moan, to see his muscular body bunch and clench in lust, he wanted to
feel Pagett's thrill while the man rammed that thick, throbbing cock of his
hard and deep and fast down into Julian's constricting throat. Desparate to
dominate the man, he suddenly knew he had to serve him - and so he sucked
the dick that bruised his throat with redoubled vigour. Miraculously
Julian's mouth and even his throat seemed to widen with these efforts, to
expand, and he took more and more of Pagett's huge, deep-driving dick with
an astonishing ease. Gradually the numbness he had felt in his throat
earlier on turned into a glow and suddenly a warmth started to flow through
his mouth that became stronger and stronger with each of the violent
strokes that shook his whole body.

But Pagett rose to the challenge. At last he put everything he had into the
lunges that sent all of his huge prick plunging deep inside Julian's mouth,
all the way to the hilt, pressing his big, hairy balls tight up against the
boy's chin. His beefy, hard-muscled body worked like a piece of precision
equipment as it tensed and arched and shoved to drill as much of his
throbbing dick as deep down into Julian's burning, wide-stretched throat as
was humanly possible. His sweat began to flow freely and large drops of the
smelly fluid dropped down onto Julian's glowing face while the man worked
frantically, his hips tensing and relaxing, fucking faster and faster and
faster, ramming his hard, jerking cock home with the ultimate of his
strength.

Except for some muffled, deep-chested groans they struggled silently for
long moments, their bodies writhing in fevered rut, banging together
noisily, linked by a burning desire that transcended any common form of
sexual lust. Humping hard in a viscious speed, Pagett fucked his big meat
into the depths of Julian's mouth again and again, while the boy, accepting
eagerly every thrust of massive inches of hard cock into the reachable
limits of his throat, worked as furiously as the man. Endlessly Pagett
tried to drive harder, to plunge deeper. His ass cheeks dimpled and flexed
as he tightened them, thrusting forward into Julian's face, but the boy met
each of those furious shoves and mighty lunges with equally fierce
determination. Endlessly his throat clamped and strangled and eased and
released the pistoning bar of hot, pulsing meat, and he gulped, his lips
strained, and gobbled and slobbered on the thick, spit-covered shaft with
ever increasing enthusiasm.

Triumphantly Julian registered signs that his labors were to be
rewarded. He heard Pagett's breath turn short and raspy in his throat; he
saw his knees buckle, he sensed how the vein-ridged tension of the man's
hard-on throbbed with an uncontrollable excitement in his mouth and throat
- and finally Pagett had to let go. His hips rotated in a fury of quick
shoves, he trembled, his strokes became erratic and jabbing, and then he
gave one last violent hump. Grinding his hairy groin against the boy's
nose, he drove his throbbing meat to the hilt into Julian's face, froze,
and Julian felt how the man's dick jerked and pulsed, spasmed and convulsed
in him and expanded frighteningly in length and girth and power - and then
hot cum gushed and squirted out of Pagett's huge, throbbing dick. Masses of
hot, sticky semen poured into Julian's mouth, inundated it, filled it to
the point of overflowing, as jet after jet of more sticky jism shot onto
his tongue, coated his tonsils, and splashed the walls of his mouth until
his cheeks bellied out with all the accumulated cum.

Julian tried to pull back but Pagett grabbed his head again and held him
firmly in place until the violent eruptions of his dick eased off, until
the thick stream of cum that filled the boy's mouth finally trickled
away. Then he drew back and his big, juicy cock popped wetly, noisily, from
Julian's mouth. Before the boy could move Pagett closed one of his huge
hands around Julian's throat. Pressing hard with thumb and index finger at
some spot near the boy's jaws he forced him to look up and their eyes
locked again. Glaring at each other silently, they resumed their struggle
for another moment, but then Julian could not bear the strangling grip any
longer and he gave in: reddening with anger and embarrasment, he finally
gulped and began to drink the man's sticky cum down - the cum that he had
just held in his mouth, determined to spit it out as fast as he
could. Slowly a pleased grin appeared on Pagett's face as he watched how
Julian's throat rippled spasmically in swallowing, a grin that broadened
with the repeated rise and fall of the boy's Adam's-apple. He released his
hold on the boy's jaws only when he was sure that his big load, down to the
very last drop, slid down Julian' throat and filled his stomach.

"Draw!," he then muttered matter-of-factly and pulled his trousers up.

Panting heavily, Julian slumped to the floor and watched with empty eyes
how the man dressed swiftly. Suddenly everything that he had done and said
and thought during the preceeding moments appeared to be mad and sick - so
mad and sick and silly that he wanted to puke. A cold hand seemed to close
around his heart and to hold tight, so tight that all the life in him
froze.

But Pagett was still not finished with the boy. Just as he began to stuff
his still hard dick back into his pants the man stopped in mid-motion. His
eyes set on the crouching boy, he milked the massive shaft for the very
last remnants of his jism and scopped the generous blob that duely appeared
at the gaping piss-slit on his thick index finger. Chuckling softly with
delight, he then reached out and ran the cummy digit across Julian's cheek,
drawing a thin line of cum onto the smooth skin. Too weak for any
resistance the boy let it happen. He even did not react when Pagett pried
his closed lips open with the soiled finger and swirled it around in
Julian's mouth for a second or two.

Then Pagett left, without bothering to hide his cum-streaked dick in his
pants.

Under the doorstep he paused, turned around, and looked back. Illuminated
from behind, one of his big ears glowed like a red horn in the bright shaft
of light that fell into the room through the open door. The beam also made
the man's enormous dickhead gleam. Shiny with cum and Julian's spit the tip
of the monstrous prong jerked and quivered lightly in the ray of light, as
if the massive rod already began to swell and lengthen again.

"You've sinned, boy!," Pagett sneered, "Go and make your confession to
Father Flannigan. I think he's taking confessions today. So make sure to
lube your asshole before you go!"

The door closed with a bang behind him.

Still crouching dejectedly on the rough floor, Julian starred into space as
if he had seen the devil himself. Very slowly his senses came
back. Reluctantly his eyes roamed back and forth in the bare, dimly lit
room and he tried to concentrate on the few things that he saw - some
broken chairs, on old, useless bike, a strange assortment of rusty tools,
all covered under a thick layer of dust -, trying not to remember anything
else, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his throat, the throbbing that
persisted in spite of all his concentration. Although he was gone Pagett
was almost just as present as before: the pungent scent of the man's sweaty
crotch still filled Julian's nostrils and his lungs, his skin still seemed
to be tickled by the prickly hairs of Pagett's thick bush, the pulsing pain
in his throat echoed the throbbing of the man's giant dick on his palate,
the line of slowly caking cum which Pagett had left on Julian's cheek
itched on his face like mad. Impestuously he wiped the man's jism away with
his sleeves - but to no avail: as if it had been branded his skin burnt no
matter how often he rubbed his face clean.

Besides all this there was the taste in his mouth, of course, the taste of
Pagett's cum: a salty, lasting flavor that poisened his spit and was
everywhere on his tongue and on his gums. Covering his windpipe, several
huge globs of the thick fluid seemed to cling to his tonsils and his
uvula. Repeatedly he coughed and cleared his throat but yet the suffocating
feeling remained and the taste still stuck maddeningly to each pore on his
tongue and in his mouth.

But the worst was still to come.

As Julian staggered up, feeling spent and dead tired, his eyes moved
downward, to his own body. At first he registered the dark spot on his
pants without thinking, but then he started and stared at himself. Only
then did he feel the slippery wetness in his crotch hair. His eyes wide
with horror, his hands trembling in agitation, he pushed his trousers down
with violent force - and there was no way to deny it: the small growth of
his pubic hair and his lower belly was matted and sticky with his own cum
juice! He had shot his load while Pagett had creamed into his mouth - he
had cum not only without touching himself and not only without noticing his
own climax! No, things were still even worser than that. Struggling hard in
his mind with shame and revulsion, Julian admitted to himself that he had
cum all over himself although his dick had not been hard. Yes, he was
absolutely sure that he hadn't had a boner while the man had fucked his
face, not a real hard-on at least, maybe just a hunch of an erection, a
faint throbbing, a quick stir; yes, maybe that, but not a real boner! And
yet he had shot a big load, as big as a boy of his age could hope to squirt
out of his small balls, and had soiled his pants like... like...

Julian's mind shied away from the shameful word. His head dropped, his chin
almost touched his chest, as he started to weep in a silent stream of
tears.

Sobbing in choked cries, he felt an owerpowering longing: He needed
comfort; he needed reassurance; he needed it now - and he was sure where to
find it.


(to be continued)


Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

Roarrr201@aol.com