Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2020 09:01:55 +0000 (UTC)
From: garogora@aol.com
Subject: Discovery In Sin City, Part 5 (Gay/Adult Youth)

I woke the next morning when my alarm went off at 5:30. I checked the
cordless handset of the phone, which I had fallen asleep with, to ensure
that I hadn't missed a phone call from my parents after I fell asleep. When
I verified that they had not, in fact, called me back, I got ready for
school.

I was excited for school. It was my senior year. I was younger than all my
peers, having just turned sixteen halfway through junior year when everyone
else was seventeen or getting there. I wouldn't turn eighteen until several
months after graduation. I still meant to enjoy my last year of high school
as much as my friends who were now legally adults (or would be by the
school year's end).

The day passed quickly, and I found myself walking over to the park before
catching my CAT bus home. I noticed a large grey four-door truck parked
near the gate to the park and smiled. Rick was here.

He wasn't in the bathroom when I got there. Typically, Rick would wait in
the air conditioned truck until he saw me coming because the late-summer
heat was no joke. (We don't have autumn in Las Vegas. It's summer until one
day the trees that have leaves suddenly lose them. Then it's winter and
driving winds combine with the desert chill to give us a very dry winter.)
I had made a circuit towards his truck before heading to the bathroom, so I
knew he'd be in shortly behind me.

I took my usual seat in the middle stall, played with my cock to get it
hard, and waited. A man came into the bathroom a minute or so behind me. It
wasn't Rick. He was only a little taller than me, but had a lean, wiry
build. He was walking a small dog. I was expecting Rick, so I had made no
effort to hide my erection until I realized the man wasn't him.

Typically, I would have this mildly embarrassed, very innocent expression
on my face as I made only the flimsiest attempt to hide my cock from view,
leaving it very obvious to anyone looking that I was hard. This man didn't
get that display. He saw genuine surprise on my face and a full view of my
dick, which had grown to a respectable size since my early days here. I was
closer to six inches than to five, and proportionally thick. This man
seemed just as surprised to see me, but his surprise wasn't the same as
what I was used to.

For one thing, I didn't think he had an accurate estimate of my age. I
hadn't shaved in the past two days, so I had woken up this morning with a
dark shadow of stubble over my chin, cheeks, and upper lip. I was already
the average height of a grown man. I had a muscular build many grown men
would envy. He would probably guess I was at least five years older than my
actual age if pressed. So, I sincerely doubted his surprise was like all
the grown men who had been shocked to see a young boy there for sex, but
merely surprised that anyone was in the bathroom with a boner.

To be fair, I had no idea how old he was. He looked young in that his face
lacked any visible wrinkles. His hair was on the short side, but black and
wavy. His skin was tanned. He had a five-o'clock shadow far denser than my
own. I got a good, long look at him to take in all these details in the
murky bathroom, because he froze to watch me mid-stroke.

After an awkward silence in which we both checked each other out and I
self-consciously covered my dick as his eyes darted to it, I muttered a
pained, "Sorry." He shook his head as if to say I had nothing to apologize
for, then finally moved into the back stall.

After another brief silence, he whispered back, "Do you want that dick
sucked?" In answer, I came over to him without putting my dick away. He was
seated on the toilet, pants still up. His small white cowered beside the
toilet.

He immediately started sucking. I took the stance that Shane had with me,
yesterday: Hands behind my head, leaned back, core tightened for
support. It was great. The man stroked my balls with his right hand, and
his left came up to fumble with the hem of my shirt. I reached down to lift
my shirt and grazed his hand. He was wearing a ring on it.

I was only more excited. He reached up to stroke my exposed abdomen. I
still had a small amount of baby fat there, but I had a visible four-pack
above that, which I was pretty proud of. His fingers grazed the soft hair
and the flesh underneath, giving me a swooping sensation halfway between a
tickle and an orgasm. It made my whole body spasm briefly.

After a few minutes, I reached down to feel the visibly-straining bulge in
his lap. He pulled off and stood so I could get a grip of him. I
immediately sat on the warm toilet seat and freed his cock from his shorts;
he was going commando. I used my signature move: eye contact and
deepthroat. He was a little bigger than me, so no challenge. I reached
under his shirt to use his own move against him. His abs were rock hard,
but also covered in soft, downy hair. It wasn't long before he was
shuddering with every touch, every bob of my head, every deep look into his
green eyes. He pushed my head off when he was getting close to cumming.

"Do you want to fuck me?" he asked. I had felt his ass a bit. It was taut,
firm, and had more than a little of the same soft hairs as his abdomen. I
really did want to fuck him. I just didn't have lube, and since my every
experience with anal sex had involved copious amounts of lube, I wasn't
willing to try to initiate that without it.

"Not here," I said. "Can we go back to your place?"

He scoffed. "I would take you home in a heartbeat." A few seconds passed in
silence. "But my wife and kids would not understand."

I cursed my idiocy. I had already noticed he was wearing a ring on his left
hand. What was I hoping, that he was some depressed widower looking for a
bathroom hookup? No, he was just like the many other men I had had sex with
in this bathroom: married and looking for temporary excitement wherever
they could find it. I didn't blame them for it. I didn't know their
lives. But I was frustrated that my options were to have anal sex with no
lube, no shower after, and no surfaces to put our weight on, or else not to
have anal sex at all.

"Sorry, man," I said, looking at the grimy restroom. "I don't mind sucking
dick here, but there's just something gross about the idea of fucking in
here."

He nodded, understanding. His glance went back to his cock, so I resumed
sucking. "God damn," he whispered. "I haven't had my cock sucked since I
got married. And my wife was never half this good at it." I made eye
contact and deepthroated him again. An eyelid twitched. "You're gonna me
cum like that. Won't be long now. I'll warn you so you can pull off in
time."

I continued pulling off of him until the very tip of his cockhead rested on
my tongue and lips, then deepthroating him without breaking eye
contact. The fourth time I went back down, he muttered, "All right, here
comes. Pull off or I might cum in your mouth." I moaned around his cock and
he looked confused for a second. Then he realized I wanted it in my mouth.

The expression on his face went from pleasant shock to ecstatic bliss as I
let him cum directly down my throat, desperately swallowing every drop he
offered me. I did pull off a little while he was still going, but only
because I wanted to taste him. He wasn't as sweet as Rick, but his cum was
an amazing blend of sweetness, saltiness, and a slight musky tang that's
almost like the sense of taste's equivalent to the faint scent of bleach. I
loved the taste of him. His moan was music to my ears. When I was satisfied
that there were no more drops of cum left to milk out of him, and he grew
too sensitive for me to keep sucking him, he collapsed against a wall,
holding himself up against the metal railing mounted to the brick wall. His
dog whimpered, the first noise it had made the whole time.

"That was amazing," he whispered as he packed himself away. "So much better
than my wife or any girlfriend I ever had." He looked down at my dick. "I
wish I could stay. I have to get home before my kids. They go to the high
school over there." He nodded to the southwest, the direction where my high
school lay. "Will you be here the same time tomorrow? I really want to
taste yours, since you were so willing to swallow mine."

"Absolutely," I told him. "I'll be here tomorrow. I'll suck another load
out of you and you can have mine if you want it."

Rick came in within seconds of the man with the wavy black hair
leaving. "You looked like you were enjoying that, so I figured I'd wait."

"I was, thanks," I said as I reached my hand under the waistband of Rick's
grey sweats. His cock was hard and leaky. "You watched for a bit, though,
huh?"

"Yeah. You looked hot as fuck leaning back with your arms up." I pulled his
big dick out and suckled at the bead of precum forming on his slit. I got a
good mouthful and looked up at Rick. He continued, "I would have loved to
watch you fuck him, too. Your cock is a good size for it."

"Maybe tomorrow," I suggested. "If he still wants it and I can get it in
without lube." As I deepthroated his cock again, Rick reached down and gave
me a few strokes. His palm had more than a little precum on it.

"You precum enough that if he's experienced at taking cock, you shouldn't
have a problem." He licked his hand clean of my precum.

I shrugged the idea off and kept sucking, tugging at Rick's balls while I
deepthroated his thick meat. He came pretty quickly. I suspected that he
had been watching most of the time I was with the dark-haired man, and I
had been too engrossed to notice.

Rick offered me a ride home. I accepted, since the alternative was a long
bus ride cutting into my time with Terry later. It wasn't like there was a
risk of my parents seeing me get out of his truck.

I called Terry when I got home. He didn't answer, so I left a
message. "Hey, Terry. Mom and Dad are out of town for another couple days
and they said I should call you if I need anything. I have food and
everything, but some company would be cool. I don't have any homework
today, so the whole evening is empty. Let me know. Bye." I wasn't sure if
anyone else would see the message, since Terry was still with Sasha, his
trans girlfriend. I didn't want to risk leaving a revealing message in case
she or anyone else overheard it.

Terry called back in under 45 minutes. "Hey bud," he greeted me. "I'm
outside. Come down, bring clothes and school stuff for tomorrow. You're
spending the night at my place tonight."

He had texted my dad on the drive over to say he would be cooking dinner
for me at his place and suggesting that I stay the night there. I'm pretty
sure my stepmom was fine with it because she didn't want me looking up porn
on her computer. I had moved past a need for porn when my sex life had
resumed, so that wasn't even a realistic issue.

Terry was naked within seconds of the door closing behind him. He just
seemed more comfortable naked, his big soft dick swinging around as he
walked. He was so well-muscled that even I felt a little self-conscious
being naked in front of him.

"We'ah gonna do this thing right," he said. "Get you cleaned out, make sure
you won't be shitting on me or the bed, and we'll take ah time gettin' you
stretched out to take this." He gripped his cock at the base and slapped it
against his thigh.

Terry led me into his en-suite bathroom, one of three in his house, once I
was as naked as he was. The bathroom was entirely tiled, and the floor had
the barest hint of a slope to it, leading to drains on the lower
wall. There was no tub or visible shower. There was a toilet with a sink
beside it on the higher edge of the floor, with a fluffy red bathmat just
inside the door. The lower half of the room was completely empty
space. There were what looked like a variety of light fixtures in the
ceiling. I looked closer and realized that while there were a few light
fixtures that were off, the two largest circles were showerheads. I was
amazed.

Terry ruffled the fur on my chest. "You're hairy as I'd be if I stopped
shaving. Ya furball." It didn't sound like an insult. The playful was his
rough hands moved through the soft hair, his growly tone, and his half
smile made it obvious he liked it. "Gawd, this is gonna be like fuckin' my
own youngah self." His cock twitched as he said it.

He showed me how to use the brand-new enema kit he had bought for the
occasion. It was not my favorite thing, but I bore it because I didn't want
to shit on his dick or the bed as he had mentioned. Terry knew exactly what
he was doing. I followed his lead. Experience definitely trumped youth in
this matter.

Eventually, he decided I was cleaned out after two enemas in a row came out
clear. He hit a panel on the wall and water started pouring from the
ceiling showerheads. There was a bit of a splash zone, but it was several
feet clear of the toilet, sink, and bathmat. The light fixtures in the
ceiling cycled through a rainbow of colors. "Let's showah up before we go
to the bed."

There were hand dispensers with body wash, shampoo, and conditioner on the
wall, which Terry pointed out to me in turn. I had shampooed that morning,
so I just used body wash. I was rubbing down my legs and feet when Terry
came up behind me and nestled the length of his semi between my
asscheeks. I stood up straight, not fighting it off. His cock was so warm
between us. It felt every bit as good as I imagined. He wrapped his arms
around me. I wanted him in me now, and ground my ass against him to show
it. He growled lightly in my ear. "Soon, buddy. Real soon."

We rinsed off, dried off, and made our way back into the bedroom. Terry
laid another towel on the bed, then had me lie down on it. "Just in case,"
he said. "Don't worry about it, Sasha lays down a towel whenever I fuck her
ass, too." Then he pulled out a package containing five buttplugs of
increasing size. "We'll try these ones," he said, pointing to the smaller
three. The fourth was a little bigger around than he was; the third, just
about right. "If you evah wanna stop, just say so. Safe word: stop. If you
want me stop moving but not pull out, say paused. Stop means no more
sex. Pause means wait until yah ready to keep going. Got it?"

"Got it," I answered.

He pulled out two bottles of lube, one significantly smaller than the
other. "I'll use this first," he indicated the larger bottle, "and this one
if yah need it." He tossed me the smaller bottle. It was numbing lube.

It started with a finger. He took almost ten minutes to get it past my
second ring. He went so slow I never asked him to pause. I wished I could
play with his cock during this process. It was slightly uncomfortable, but
eventually I wished I could at least relax by focusing on his cock rather
than on my own ass.

Two fingers was more difficult. He pulled the first finger back out, then
slipped the two slowly inside. I could myself clamping down on him. His
expression was somewhere between excitement and pain, though the pain
lessened when I started to relax my vice grip on his fingers. He didn't
take nearly as long this time. I didn't need him to, either.

He didn't try three fingers, but pulled out the smallest butt plug. He
lubed it up while he kept two fingers in me, pressing against my
prostate. Despite my discomfort, my mostly-soft cock started leaking precum
as it started inflating. When the buttplug was both lubed and warmed up, he
pulled his fingers out and eased the plug slowly in. Here I had to ask him
to pause the first time. He changed his position so that he was on the bed
next to me holding the plug in with his right hand. I used that opportunity
to slip his hard cock into my mouth. I deepthroated him. My body tensed,
then relaxed as I pulled off. I pushed like I was trying to get more water
out from the enema. The pressure he was applying to hold the plug steady
caused it to sink fully in as my sphincter relaxed.

His cock also helped me relax through the second plug. He left it in for
two minutes while he warmed the third by rubbing it with lube. Eventually
the second plug came out and the third went in easily.

After that, he deemed me ready for his cock. He stood at the edge of the
bed while I lay with my ass at the edge. Terry held my legs up as he smiled
down at me. He rested my left leg on his shoulder and kissed the calf
muscle as he used his right hand to guide his cock to my hole. I pushed out
against him and his head slid in.

His cock felt nothing like the buttplug. For one thing, his skin had a
silky smoothness to it that the plug didn't quite match. For another, it
was more than warm. It was radiating his body heat into me. Yet another
difference: in addition to the ample amount of lubricant coating my insides
and his dick, his cockhead was self-lubricating, dripping a constant supply
of precum into me. He exhaled deeply as he slid himself further in.

I wasn't able to keep silent like with Shane. I released a loud grunt,
pressed a hand to Terry's hard chest, and choked out the word, "Pause." I
could feel my body tensing up to expel the foreign body entering it, and I
knew I needed to find something else to help me relax. I took deep
breaths. They came in as sharp gasps and left me as low moans. I felt
Terry's member throb inside me and knew he was giving me a little extra
lube. I tweaked one of his nipples. It was stiff. "Pull out just a tiny
amount," I said. "Then try again."

I pushed as he did so. Maybe a half-inch of his cock left me, then I was
suddenly relaxing from the push, pulling him deeper into me. He slid past
the second ring. His heat was filling me up. It was all I could feel, like
a hot knife deep inside me. The discomfort was sharp at first, then dull. I
was full of heat and I couldn't get rid of it. It felt like intense
constipation. Before I could tense up again, he started slightly pulling
out. I pushed again, and when my sphincter relaxed from pushing, he slid
deeper in again.

That time, he hit my prostate. Red and white fireworks went off inside my
brain as his massive cockhead put pressure on it. His heat radiated all
over, turning to pleasure rather than pain. The discomfort and constipation
didn't go away, but they weren't alone anymore. The yell I let out was far
louder than the previous ones. Terry took that to mean pause.

"Yah doin' okay?" His voice was strained with concern.

I tried to say yes, but it came out as another yell as he started to
withdraw and the ridge of his head put even more pressure on my prostate. I
nodded, tears streaming from my eyes, as I grabbed whatever I could reach
of him. I got his arms, so I settled for holding them steady. When my
vision cleared of the fireworks and I regained a bit of control, I let out
a single, low, guttural word: "Yes."

We continued. His cockhead slid past my prostate, burrowing deeper into
me. It was almost a relief when the pleasure went away, but he felt so deep
inside me, and I still couldn't feel him against me. He had inches to go
still.

He hadn't hit any kind of intestinal barrier stopping him from going
deeper, so he kept going. As he did, I realized that his cock narrowed
below the head but widened again below that. It was a subtle thing I hadn't
really noticed while sucking him, but by the time he bottomed out inside
me, his closely trimmed pubes pressed firmly against my taint, I could feel
his pressure against my prostate again. He slowly pulled out an inch and
back in. Relief and renewed pressure.

At this point, Terry started getting verbal. "Fuck, Ryan, yah hole is so
fucking tight. So gawddamn hot." He pulled out so that his head was just
inside the second ring, hitting my prostate three times on the way out. He
slowly drove the whole length back into me, hitting my prostate three more
times. "Fuck, ain't none a' Sasha's holes this tight. Ya suck a bettah cock
than she does, ya hit my prostate just right, and yah fuckin' pussy" - here
he bottomed out - "is so" - he pulled out maybe two inches - "GAWDdamn" -
he drove it home, faster than before, filling me and squeezing my prostate
- "tight!"

I wrapped my legs around him as he bottomed out in me again, starting to
enjoy the way he felt inside me. Then he pulled out as much as he could in
the space my legs gave him, and he fucked it back into me, hard and
fast. My vision popped with red and white again. There was pain, but it was
mostly pleasure. I thought I had gone silent again, but as he kept
thrusting, hard and fast, keeping his pace, I realized that I was releasing
a long, steady moan as he pounded my prostate. I reached down and was
surprised to find my cock hard and leaking. I started stroking, but he
slapped my hand away.

"Yah not gonna stroke that load out. Eithah I'm gonna fuck it out of ya, or
yah gonna fuck it into me." I was surprised. He hadn't mentioned that
possibility before. I didn't respond. He kept fucking me.

He was a powerhouse, keeping a tight rhythm despite his speed and
ferocity. Even though I was leaking, I didn't feel any closer to
cumming. The pleasure was entrancing. I'm sure I'd have passed out if it
weren't for the discomfort of it serving as a counterbalance. I lost all
track of time, though. I wasn't sure how much time had passed in this
position before Terry was trying to flip me over. He managed to do it
without pulling out. I planted my feet on the floor between his, resting my
upper body against the towel. Terry placed a hand in the small of my back,
saying, "Ahch yah back, just a little. Use yah hips to adjust. Fuck, that's
perfect."

As if there had been no break, he went back to fucking me hard and deep,
pulling most of the way out before thrusting back in. I could only see
stars anyway, so I buried my face in the bedding, muffling my yells of
combined pleasure and pain. He was getting so much deeper in this
position. I wasn't sure how I felt about it, but the pressure on my
prostate when he bottomed out was much greater, and the pain grew less and
less.

I think I did black out once. I suddenly noticed him calling my name. The
first time, it sounded like an exclamation of pleasure. I could feel him
all the way in me. "Ryan!" The second, there was a note of concern, and
pressure as he put his hands under my hips, pulling me somehow deeper onto
him. "Ryan?!" The third time, I realized he wasn't fucking me anymore, and
that he was supporting my weight because I wasn't. I came to, planted my
feet firmly between his, and bent my knees slightly. The position made it a
little more difficult to fuck me, I imagine, but my knees weren't locked
out. I had seen ROTC cadets at school pass out from standing in formation
with their knees locked out. I thought that must have been the reason why I
had, too. Then I realized Terry was still waiting for a response.

"Keep. Going." I grunted into the towel below me. He obliged.

I felt every thrust between then and his eventual pronouncement of, "I'm
about to fill yah fuckin' guts up."

"Fuck," I said as he pounded me. "Me," I gasped out as he hit my prostate
on the way out. "Cum." Thrust. "In." Withdraw. "Me." Thrust.

I had no idea how long he had kept his pace going, but he picked up the
speed. It was harder, faster, but more erratic. I couldn't feel the liquid
inside me as he shot his load, but I could feel his body tighten, feel the
roar build up in him as he reached his orgasm, and feel his dick seeming to
swell and shrink to normal inside me. He kept fucking. I felt like I was
having an orgasm, but I wasn't cumming.

He lay forward on my back for a minute or so, kissing my shoulder and
neck. His face was perfectly smooth, but I could feel a little bit of
stubble from his chest, as well as the hard points of his nipples. He was
getting soft inside me. Before he pulled out, he told me, "Squeeze like ya
wanna break my dick off inside ya." He slowly pulled out as I did so. There
was a little squeak of air, but he knelt down. "Yeah," he said. "Keep
squeezing, keep it tight. Suddenly he was kissing me again, around my
hole. After the beating it had taken, his lips and tongue felt so
soothing. "Fuck, I love that gawddamn perfect hole."

When I was able to stand without needing the support of the bed, he asked,
"You think my load might leak outta ya, or do ya got it?"

Aside from lube, my thighs felt dry. "I got it."

Terry stroked my cock, which had started to soften again after he had
pulled out of me. His hand was coated in another squirt of lube. When next
he spoke, he had his New England accent mostly under control again. "Damn,
Ryan, you really have such a fuckin' perfect ass. Wish I had fucked it when
I had the first chance." When my cock was fully hard again, he said,
"Turnabout's fair play. I'm already ready for ya. Don't worry about hurting
me. Pound as hard and fast as you like."

I fucked him in doggy for about ten minutes before I decided I wanted him
on his back. I think I acquitted myself pretty well, but I did not have
Terry's stamina. Another five minutes of fucking his ass, which was as warm
and vicelike on my cock as it had been on the occasions when I had fingered
him, was enough to get me grunting about being close. It wasn't like with
Shane. I could tell the difference between a mounting orgasm and the point
of no return a little better the second time. When I warned Terry, he
grunted, "Fill me up, Ryan. Stud." I thrust a few more times, holding it
off as long as I could. Then I came anyways, and I pounded until I was too
soft and too sensitive to continue. Terry squeezed me out just as he had
ordered me to.

He rolled over and pulled me onto the towel. We stayed there, just holding
each other and keeping physical contact, for a while. I was exhausted, but
also a little restless. Terry kissed me, then said, "Let's shower up
again. If ya can't keep my load in," he said, swiping his fingers around my
hole and bringing them away with nothing more than lube, "then relax in the
shower and it'll go down the drains."

I didn't feel any particular need to release it. I squeezed my hole tight
and relaxed a little, repeatedly. The shower was a little cooler, and the
water felt amazing running down my back into over my hole. I sighed with
relief. I hoped I wouldn't have to be conscious of holding myself closed
for long.

Terry, perhaps seeing some tension in me, knelt and asked me to bend over a
little. He spread my cheeks; the cool water provided even more relief. "No
bleeding. We stretched you out well enough before." He rubbed a finger in
circles around my hole. "Swollen, a little puffy. It'll go down in a bit,
and you'll be tightened back up, good as new."

After we dried off again, Terry led the way out into the living room. His
couch and loveseat were black leather. It felt cool on my ass when I sat
down on the loveseat. Terry went into the kitchen and came out with two
bottles of refrigerated spring water. "Too exhausted to cook now. I can't
normally eat pizza and keep this figure" - he did a partial turn to the
left, then back to the right, causing his cock to flop back and forth
against his thighs - "but I figure you helped me burn a couple hundred
extra calories. Three hours of fuckin' will do that."

"What?" I asked, surprised. I checked the clock on the wall, since my watch
was with my clothes in Terry's room. It was almost 8 PM. "Fuck," I
said. "Is your phone on silent? My parents might have called."

Terry went into the bedroom and came back out with it. "No missed calls,"
he said, before abruptly falling silent. His phone started vibrating. He
held it out to me. It was my dad's number.

"Hi!" I answered cheerfully. My dad was on the other end, thankfully.

"Hey, buddy," he said. "How's things going?"

"Good," I answered. "Terry's making his favorite."

"Grilled chicken breast and salad with no dressing?" Dad asked.

"Grilled chicken breast, salad, no dressing," I confirmed in a grave
voice. "I thought I saw some balsamic vinegar, so I might splash some of
that on the salad so it at least tastes like something." Terry flipped me
off with a grin. I winked back at him.

"Well, don't get on his nerves too much. Is he gonna drop you off at school
tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Then I'll head home after school. Are you guys gonna
be home by then?"

"Probably not," Dad said. "We'll be home in time for dinner, though."

"I can cook," I said, knowing they'd be tired when they got in. "Or I can
order something; I haven't touched that fifty yet."

We discussed food options, and eventually Dad said, "I gotta go, we're
about to have dinner here too. Love ya, buddy."

"Love you too, Dad. Bye." We hung up. Terry came over and draped himself
over the couch. I passed his phone to him, noting the way his cock flopped
over his leg. He was a show-er too.

Half an hour later, there was a ring at the doorbell. I had forgotten the
pizza was coming. We were both still naked. I froze like a deer in the
headlights, wondering if I should hide or run to the bedroom for my
clothes.

"Don't worry about it," Terry said. "Act natural." He answered the door,
opening it partway and hiding behind it. He smiled at the delivery
guy. "Hey there! Let me grab my wallet." He turned away from the door,
which opened fully. The delivery guy was closer to my age than to Terry's,
early twenties. He had a scruffy growth of facial hair that was slightly
patchy, similar to what I was growing at thirteen or fourteen. He gaped as
Terry bent over, digging his wallet out of his abandoned pants. Then he
noticed me, draped naked over the leather loveseat. His eyes looked close
to popping out of his skull. I waved cheerfully and realized I was
stiffening with anticipation.

Terry came back to the delivery guy with a crisp $50 in his hand. "Keep the
change, pal," he said. The delivery guy was still staring at me, but he
tore his gaze away when Terry waved the bill at him.

"Th-thanks," he said, eyes darting to me again, then back to Terry, then
down to Terry's cock, then back up to his face. Terry followed his gaze and
smiled.

"Ya like what ya see, you can always come back when you're off." Terry
accepted the receipt, but wrote on it and handed it back to the guy. "Call
first if you wanna join us."

The delivery guy turned beet red. He stammered an excuse and fled with the
$50 bill.

When Terry closed the door, I laughed. "You tortured that poor kid."

Terry chuckled at that. "Kid? He's probably got six years on you."

I shrugged. "Obvious virgin. He's a kid."

Terry looked thoughtful at that. "How'd you know he's a virgin?"

"He looked turned on but freaked out. I haven't been that freaked out by
seeing a penis since I was twelve." I had spent so much of my adolescence
seeking out and having sex that I had developed a bit of a sixth sense
about sexual matters. I had friends who were obsessed with talking about
sex; friends that never, ever mentioned it; friends that spoke about sex
casually. I was pretty good at discerning which of the friends were virgins
or not regardless of their attitudes about sex. It was the same sense I
used to determine whether a man was interested. It had even warned me of
bad situations to stay out of.

Terry nodded, pulling out a slice of the steaming pizza. "Last time we
ordered from here, he was the delivery boy. Sasha and I were naked when he
got here. Sasha managed to find out he's a virgin, invited him to join
us. He turned her down."

We ate the pizza and Terry put on a movie. We didn't really pay much
attention to it. Terry chuckled every time I farted, partly because I had a
mild freakout and checked for semen every time. I didn't want to stain his
loveseat. Nothing but wind and noise came out, though. Eventually, Terry
turned the volume low and asked me, seriously, "How did you like it?"

I knew he wasn't referring to the film or the pizza. "I don't know," I said
truthfully. "There was some pleasure there, but it was really
uncomfortable. I mostly just felt constipated."

"Well," Terry said, shrugging, "it ain't everyone's cup of tea. You might
be a top. You certainly weren't the worst top I ever had." He winked at me
there.

I shrugged back. "I'm okay with that. Definitely enjoyed fucking you." I
paused for a moment, then said, "I still prefer giving head, though."

He grinned back. "Well, no reason you should stop."

I sucked another load out of him before we went to sleep. When his alarm
woke us up a few hours later, his hard cock was nestled perfectly into the
crack of my ass. I disentangled myself from the muscular arm and leg he had
thrown over me and started sucking him again. He rolled over to give me
easy access. It took about thirty minutes; I wasn't in a rush. He still
dropped me off in time for school. I wasn't looking forward to my parents
coming back.