This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between a man and a minor boy. The story is not true; the sexual acts described herein derive solely from imagination. It is not intended to promote illegal acts with/to/by minors, nor does it condone child abuse of any sort. If you object to the subject matter, stop reading. If you are legally under age to be reading this, or if your reading of this material otherwise violates laws in your place of residence or where you are currently located, stop reading. Thank you.
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(My stories are fantasy. If they do nothing else, they ask, "What if..." Those who wish to comment, may email me at will1599s@yahoo.com)
Island Boy
by
Will S
Chapter 4 of 13
The boy's mouth was just what Jason needed. All day long - hell, ever since he had first seen his newest subject - a need had been building deep in his loins. But to act on that would have been impossible for him, not yet anyway. For Jason, the sex act had to be surrounded by mutuality. And he knew while he could seduce the child, there would be little sense of what was happening on Sean's part. And if the child wasn't gay, then that presented another set of problems. The boy would need to discover his own sexual journey. Still, Jason sensed a unique energy in the prepubescent; of this Jason was sure: The child was truly remarkable. Nevertheless, for a few more days, at least, Jason would have to be satisfied with the memory of bringing the boy to his first orgasm in the exam room. And one more thing: lurking beneath all of this was a vague fear that something was wrong with the boy. He said he was fourteen, but he could easily have passed for ten or eleven. Often by twelve there are the tell-tale signs of impending puberty, but not in this boy. By tomorrow, with the lab results, he'd know if his concerns were founded.
The older boy's work on Jason's cock finally focused the doctor's thoughts on the present. No boy currently on the island could go down on him the way Ralph could. Somehow the boy's mouth, sucked empty of any air, and his tongue, and his throat seemed to provide an almost uninterrupted surface surrounding his organ, wet and hot and constantly in motion. He reached down and stroked the boy's thick curly brown hair. He let his hands drop down and lightly trace the outlines of the boy's ears and his neck. He fantasized about having unnaturally long arms, so he could reach further and pleasure the boy as he was pleasuring him. The man's legs caressed the boy's smooth skin and from the combined attention, a small moan resonated from the boy's throat, causing yet one more tiny sensation on Jason's manhood.
The crisis was building to a welcome conclusion. The man's hips began a powerful, yet slow thrusting, but the young cocksucker was prepared and moved with the man, always in control. That was one of the things Jason loved about Ralph, one of the things he loved about the boy's aggressive sexuality: Ralph wanted - demanded - to be in control, and in these moments, Jason could relinquish control and submit. It added to the man's response. And the boy knew the power he held over the man in these moments. Even now, Ralph could sense the changes: the rapid, almost desperate breathing, the wire-taut muscles under his fingertips, the rigid, almost erupting nipples, the uncontrolled whimpering which signaled a desperate need to be finished off, and of course the pulsing mass of pure muscle he worked at with such teen lust. All of it was surging toward some unseen release. And yet the boy would not be rushed. Twice he sensed the man was ready. Twice he changed his actions and slowed the response. This time, however, there would be no turning back. The boy gasped in a violent breath, held it, pressed down on the eight inch cock until Jason's thick, black, wiry pubic hair crushed against his upper lip and nose. Then he squeezed his throat, clamping the glans that filled him. And with his tongue, he lashed the body of the thing he held gently yet firmly in his mouth. Now rapid, desperate moans sounded from the man and his hands held the boy's head firmly in place. But when the boy felt the tube in the man's cock start to pulse, his strength overpowered the man's hands. He lifted his head in time to capture the first jet of semen in his mouth. The man's entire body became a rigid platform lifting whole inches off the bed and raising the boy with him. The first tingles of salty taste in the boy's mouth spurred him on and his tongue followed the contours of the man's corona, settling on the under part of the penis, just under the glans. The second spurt had more force, and the third. The man's whole body pulsed, gathering a strength which seemed to be necessary to push the fluid through that tiny opening. The boy reveled in the man's utter helpless of the moment; he was in the complete control. Nothing - almost nothing - gave the boy-man as much pleasure as bringing his mentor to orgasm.
Then the surging storm subsided and both settled into a quiescence, finally absolved of their obligations to wrench that pure energy from the man. As they both lay there, the boy's head nestled against the man's rapidly softening member, they both understood the particular intensity of this moment had more to do with the boy down the hall than either of them.
"Oh, god, Ralphie," the weakened man finally murmured. He brushed the boy's soft curls lovingly with his fingers. The boy pulled himself upward, feeling the remnants of their lovemaking creating a cool, wet trail down his chest and abdomen, then mingling in his soft teen bush. His five-inch organ, still throbbed with need, but for now, he needed to share the treasure he held. The man had produced so much jism that the boy struggled not to gag as he swallowed it, but he still held some in his mouth, and as they first kissed again, he allowed the man to enter him and taste his own cum. Drawing the wetness across the man's face, Ralph left a pungent trail as a sort of territorial marker.
Meanwhile, the man's hands explored every peak and valley that formed the boy's body. He caressed the boy's ass, and he could feel his penis insisting on more attention as a result. Now, with the boy's familiar urgency returning, the man shifted his position, turning the boy underneath him. Where Ralph had dived to the center of the man's need, Jason would permit the artist to emerge and paint his perfect canvas as he slowly worked downward. It took fully fifteen minutes for his attentive tongue to travel perhaps the twenty inches from the boy's mouth to his spear of flesh, and when he found it, a quick flash of tongue attention was all it got. Instead that man moved down, to the boy's legs. The boy was now in constant motion, and the man wished he had had the boy in the restraint room.
Many times before, Jason had had this boy in restraints in a similar situation, and the fact of being bound had driven the youth to a point of sexual arousal he rarely reached otherwise. But that was not to be tonight, and so on his return journey upward, the man simply allowed his weight to hold the 15-year-old's legs immobile. The boy's breathless demands for immediate attention went unheeded. Glancing quickly upward, Jason could see the desperation in the boy's face. Refocusing, he saw the boy's large gonads - large for a 15 year old - pulled tightly up in a wrinkled walnut of a scrotum. Only a few wisps of hair were evident on the wrinkled skin, although his soft brown wavy hair grew thicker as it spread upward around the boy's pulsing man-organ until it shaped a sort of fan.
Jason shifted his position, releasing the boy's legs. Understanding, the boy spread his legs, and the man settled down between them, then lifting his ass, lowered his head and surrounded the boy's balls with his mouth. He worked slowly and deliberately, and eventually, pulled them - much against their will - into his mouth. Whether it caused the boy some pain or some exquisite pleasure, or both, the man could only guess at, but a gasp sounded from Ralph as he drew in more air and stiffened his body.
The man explored the scrotum's folds and their treasure inside. Pressing himself even closer, the man extended his tongue to seek out the canals on either side of the penis from which the boy's orbs had descended. The boy lifted himself slightly, drawing his folded legs upward and outward, and Jason knew he wanted him to drop even further. They knew each other so well. Ralph knew the man pleasuring him was trying to decide what to do. "I washed real well tonight."
Jason suppressed a smile, and he knew, though his preference was otherwise, that he would give the loving child what he wanted. Reluctantly releasing the boy's testes, his tongue pressed onto the perineum, down into the region below the scrotum. He followed the ridge formed by the root of the penis. It led him backward, downward. The boy drew his knees toward his chin, pressing his thighs against the sides of his torso. As he did so, he spread himself, opening himself to the man's soft, warm, wet searching tongue. Now the man sensed the muskiness of the boy's bottom. He slowly licked downward to the spot, and his tongue, like a trigger, unleashed another gasp from the boy. The man had to ease into this, so he began by pressing his face against the cheeks of the boy's buttocks, reveling in their softness, feeling their firmness. Again, just the silkiest down hinted at the hair that would soon no doubt cover the area. He kissed the boy's cheeks, moving closer to the place that the boy needed to have serviced. Jason breathed in, smelling the boy, and he allowed his tongue to drift closer. It came to the skin that formed a kind of pink pucker, and he commanded his tongue to explore it. Gliding here, pressing there, circling, tasting the pungent flavor of the boy's ass. "Rimming" it was called, but Jason knew it wasn't exactly correct.
As he worked, an unusual quiet had over taken the boy, and Jason reached up with one hand and found the rocket-like appendage jutting out from between the boy's legs. It throbbed in his touch. In the relative calm, Jason - through his tongue - could feel the boy working - concentrating so hard - to open himself to Jason, and so the man helped him. Pressing firmly inward, the man's tongue sought to intrude. And the boy worked to unlock the entranceway. Slowly, together, they managed, and Jason felt the rim of muscle clamp down on his tongue as he worked it slowly in and out, pressing left and right, up and down. Now an almost constant moaning was coming from the 15 year old. As if spurred on by the boy's sounds, Jason pressed his lips forward, to create a seal around the boy's asshole. He sucked and at the same time animated his tongue, bringing a literal squeal of delight to the youth.
With the squeal, came an impossible further stiffening of the boy's penis. Jason found the anatomical realities of the male body marvelous, and somehow extraordinarily arousing even in moments like this. He pictured the nerve-endings in the boy's anus sending messages to his brain - which in turn sent messages to his cock, causing it to fill with blood. Simultaneously, the sphincter pushed the intruding tongue away, and with some relief, Jason moved back toward his main object of interest. Licking on inside of the boy's legs led him soon enough to his balls. Jason lowered the boy's butt to the bed and gently pulled his legs back down so they rested on his shoulders and back. Reaching around the boy's legs, Jason let his hands explore the smooth musculature of the boy, his unblemished skin, and the emerging pubic hair. Finally, he let his hands settle, and at the same time, lifted his tongue to the base of the youth's organ. When he finally made the first tentative contact, he was rewarded with a quiet shiver that spread outward across the boy's entire body. Again, he heard a gentle, moaning intake of air.
The thing his tongue had found, as best he could remember from the previous physical, was close to thirteen centimeters. It was little thicker than the man's thumb, making it perhaps 8.5 centimeters in circumference. It was uncircumcised - much to his relief.
He looked back past the upright organ, up into the boy's face. Ralph lifted his head and looked down at his master. He focused from his penis to the man and smiled. As with so many adolescent boys, Jason could see in Ralph the pride that emerged when they gazed upon their own erections and the pleasure it caused in their lovers.
In the years he'd been formally studying boys, Jason had come to recognize this phenomenon. Even children with the greatest esteem issues, overcame them, at least momentarily, when they, saw that the person they were with liked their penis. It was as if for that moment, their whole being was focused in that organ, and everything was okay. It was the power of the sexual moment, that overcame all other feelings, and it was the cause of great satisfaction for Jason to see these kids feel good about themselves.
Jason worked hard to transfer the feelings of that instant to the rest of their lives. In doing so, almost inevitably, their relationship changed. Initially dependent almost solely on him, Jason watched the kids grow, and slowly lessen their reliance on him. It meant, also, that their sexual attention would drift to others as well, and that eventually, their relationship to Jason would become one more of loving parent or mentor, or trusted confidant, though, to be sure, always with a sexual component. He always grew winsome when he thought about the change. The sexual energy they showered on him initially at times nearly overwhelmed him with energy. In truth, in some remarkable way, it kept him alive. Jason understood how easy it would have been to manipulate them so they remained dependent on him, but he knew he would have created little more than sex slaves, and that was what he had worked to protect them from.
Most of these kids had been abused sexually and otherwise - some from four or five years old. No, his life's mission was most certainly not to create sex slaves; instead, he desperately wanted to create whole, caring human beings - sexual, to be sure, because that was crucial for healthy relationships - but first and foremost well-rounded members of society who saw sex for what it was - a great and wondrous gift.
In that instant of a boyish blush of pride, which he now recognized in Ralph, Jason saw success. He smiled back, and together they focused on the throbbing symbol of the boy's "maleness". And slowly, as delicately as Ralph had been aggressive, Jason lowered his lips to the boy's glans and kissed him, caressing him, allowing the tip of his tongue to explore the slit at its tip. The boy pressed his head back into his pillow in a moment of sublime frustration - frustration that he could not have it all in this moment, that the man would tease him - an exquisite torture - for a while longer. Jason reached up, fondling Ralph's nipples. Slowly he opened his mouth to allow the kiss to become a long, deep, vacuum-driven cocksuck. The anal simulation had been nearly enough to put the boy over the edge, and now his almost constant body action settled into a disciplined kind of focused energy that led to a tightening of the youth's buttocks and the muscles surrounding the groin. The only other movement, on the part of the boy, other than in the blood-filled silky-smooth iron shaft, was his head tossing in slow motion back and forth. Anyone passing by the room would hear the moans, now alternating with grunts, and know instantly what was happening.
With a cry of utter helplessness, Ralph - the boy who always in control - had suddenly no control at all - the moment in which all males are truly equal - the eruption of their very lifeblood. It splashed violently against the back of Jason's mouth as he pulled back to catch the thick, white cream on his tongue. It mingled with the tastes of the boy's ass, then overpowered it, and Jason savored it. Pump after pump, surge after surge. The penis drew the essence of the boy from his fingertips, from his toes, even from his brain - as evidenced by a focused yet hazy state of consciousness. All the boy's essence became centered in the member held by the lips of the man over him. Wave after wave. The boy reached down and grabbed the man's head. Jason knew the boy wanted him to stop - but not really, and so Jason coaxed ever more of Ralph's life fluid from him. The boy's cries became whimpers, and finally Jason simply held the penis - now still, drained of the throbbing pressure - in his mouth. Again like the youth's seed, time ceased to flow, and they were quiet for long minutes. Eventually Jason lifted himself upward, sliding off the boy, coming face to face with him. Again they looked into each other's eyes. Both knew in minutes, they could be ready for another surge of sexual passion, but both knew at this moment they only wanted to be near each other. They kissed gently and the boy draped himself over the man and they embraced. "Thank you," he whispered to Jason."
"You are welcome, Ralph," Jason whispered. "You are a great gift in my life."
The boy turned his head downward, pressing his eyes into the man's shoulder, and Jason felt great, hot tears, falling from the boy's eyes onto his skin.
"I don't ever want to leave here," the boy said.
"I know," Jason answered. "I know." His hands traced across the boy's soft dark hair, caressing it as it flowed down onto his neck. It was a mother's caress, and the boy-man revealed a vulnerability that he only allowed Jason ever to see.
When Jason had found Ralph three years ago, he'd been on the street most of his life. He'd been a bottom-boy since he'd been ten, making a lot of money for the man that had controlled him. Miraculously - and Jason did regard it as a miracle - the boy's only disease was a relatively minor, easily curable one. Of all his subjects, Ralph had been one of Jason's greatest challenges. More than once, because of the effect he had on the others, Jason wondered if he simply had to remove Ralph from the island. But that would have been a defeat. And Jason would not fail. Slowly, however, the boy began to trust him. For months, he had used medication to keep the boy's paranoia manageable, and with great effort, Jason had been able to make the boy feel safe. Though it had been one of the toughest things he'd done since he'd begun his work, Jason refrained from having sex with Ralph.
For the then twelve-year-old, sex had become a weapon. Sex had been so much a part of the child's life that Jason knew years of untangling the confused feelings would be required. The breakthrough came one night, when Jason "happened" to stop by Ralph's room. The boy, by this time, had been weaned of his meds. As Jason had seen in the room surveillance, Ralph had been alternating between pent up rage and deep hurt; he'd been the victim of retaliation by one of the other kids. When Jason entered the boy's room, that rage spilled over onto him. Somehow - certainly Jason had trouble explaining how, exactly - in that moment all the pent up rage felt by the boy was released. Jason received it, became the conduit for it, drawing it off the boy, and allowing it to flow harmlessly away. The boy dissolved in tears in that instant, and clung to the one person he felt his could risk touching. Slowly, Jason drew his hands around the boy, letting the power of his mother's touch speak to the boy in a way his words could not.
That session lasted for hours. There were virtually no words spoken - just touching, except for the moment that Ralph began to move in a sexual way. Then Jason stopped the boy. "Why are you doing this?"
"I...I...want to thank you."
"Ralph," Jason began, "I want you to know that someday I want you to thank me in that way, but tonight, I want you to discover another way to say thank you." The man watched as the boy grew uncertain. He could see the question forming in the boy's fear-wracked mind: What twisted perversion was the man - like that other dominant man from his former life - going to make him to do now?
"It's alright, Ralph," Jason was saying. "Here's what I want you to do. Take a slow, deep breath, okay?" The boy nodded and Jason wiped the remnants of his tears from his face. "Now I want you to think about why you want to thank me. Okay?" Again the boy nodded. "And when you have figured that out, I want you to look me straight in the eye, and tell me."
"Is...is...that all?"
"Yes, Ralph, that's all." But the boy discovered it was not as easy a task as it seemed. When many minutes had passed, and more tears had flowed, the boy turned his eyes upward to find the man's.
"Thank you...for...making it safe."
Jason hugged the boy tightly, so he would know nothing could hurt him now. In that embrace, Jason felt the boy finally, after all these months, relax. And in this place of bliss, the boy formed another thought. "Thank you, grandma..."
"Why did you say that, my sweet?" the man asked gently.
The boy stirred, pulled away slightly and looked up at Jason with a bewildered gaze.
"Say what?"
Jason repeated what the boy had said, then pulled him back against him, holding him in that safe place. The boy had never said anything about his childhood; nothing about his family. But now, he'd remembered something.
"My...grandma used to hold me this way, and rock me, and...and...I loved her." Now tears flowed again - this time from both the boy and the man.
That had been almost three years ago. After that, although the difficult journey was far from over for Ralph, his healing had been remarkable.
There did come a time that they had sex, but it was the man who first worked on the boy...bringing him to his first wet orgasm. And it was in that moment, that Jason again saw that sense of self-worth in the boy who, when Jason had first found him, was so lost.
Now, those memories all came flooding back - no doubt, for both of them. For many minutes, they simply held each other. Jason's mind flooded with a collage of thoughts and feelings. Here was this incredible 15-year-old boy at the peak of his energy: magnetic and powerful, a kid who naturally inspired everyone around him, seemingly confident, even brash. And yet, in these moments, as he had seen so many times before, this Adonis, this boy-king, becomes once again, a tiny vulnerable child. That was another wonderful discovery about teen boys. They are a man and boy all at the same moment. It simply takes a true miracle to allow the innocence to return - to replace the despair and cynicism burned into the child by a twisted society. Part of Jason's challenge with all the boys, regardless of their sexual preference, was to get them to feel safe enough to allow this vulnerability to show through, to guide them so that it would always be a part of them, so that they would enter the world, driven not by violence or aggression, but by a sense that true happiness only comes when you can allow another person to see who you really are.
When the boy's breathing changed and Jason knew Ralph had entered into a deep sleep, he slid out from under him and dressed. He gazed down at the boy-man who had just given him such exquisite pleasure. It made him tremble. In the moon light, he could see the soft curls of his brown hair, his slim, muscular arms, his tapering torso which had just recently taken on the classic triangular shape of manhood, the small of his back, brushed with hints of downy hair, gently rising mounds, perfectly shaped, firm, inviting, long, strong legs, even his feet, perfectly proportioned.
"Thank you, Ralph...for making it safe."
As if disturbed by this whispered expression of gratitude, Ralph rolled over, and displayed his still glistening, though quieted, boy meat. Jason smiled at the sight. The glans had disappeared once again into the loose skin that now enclosed it. Jason drank in the scene for several more minutes, studying the boy, watching the gentle rising and falling of his chest, the tiniest pulsing of the vessel in his neck, the occasional readjustment of a body at rest. He, like Sean, was a beautiful child. Not pretty; not feminine, but a manly kind of beauty - a beauty which compelled him to pay attention, as if gazing upon a great work of art.
He was glad this boy wasn't circumcised. For all the perceived benefits of cleanliness, Jason wondered if it was worth it. He'd seen circumcised boys frequently require medical attention once they discovered the pleasures of masturbation, simply because they did it often enough that they literally caused abrasions to their penis. He'd never seen that with an uncut child, even ones who had jerked off four or five times in the space of a few hours.
He smiled, recalling one session where some sort of record must have been set, and it actually involved the boy he'd just left. As he began trusting the others on the island, the enterprising young Ralph, at fourteen - a boy at the pinnacle of his sexuality - had arranged for three of his friends to help keep him stimulated non-stop. Jason had actually watched on the video monitor as the fourteen year old had had six orgasms in the space of two hours. He reveled in what followed. The boy had waddled gingerly into his office, complaining of an aching inside, "down there."
"Well, let's take a look," Jason said "...down there." In the exam room, Jason stripped the child, laid him down on the exam table and asked if the boy had any idea why this might be happening.
"No," Ralph said, clearly failing to convince Jason and certainly not himself.
Jason lifted gently, poked, felt, and pressed. He retracted the foreskin. The penis clearly showed signs of recent sustained activity.
"Well...sometimes," Jason began with the most serious tone, "pressure can build up and the only way to relieve it is with masturbation." Ralph visibly cringed, and Jason had to work hard to suppress a grin. "Now, I know I've instructed you in masturbation techniques. Which one would you prefer, today?"
The boy looked terror stricken. "I...I..." His hands flew to his genitals, covering them.
"Ralph," Jason began, "that's not like you. I thought you enjoyed masturbating."
"I...I...do...just not today."
"Really? How come."
"I...don't know."
"Ralphie..." Jason said, "Think about it. You haven't been honest with me, or very smart." The boy, lying there, vulnerable, in the throes of a sexual explosion, looked crestfallen. "Do you think you could actually jerk off six times in the space of a couple of hours, and not have some kind of alarm go off in the system?" The boy's eyes, rolled quickly upward, as his hand fondled the disk attached to his skin just above his penis. A silly, youthful guilt-ridden grin formed on the boy's mouth. His gleaming white teeth were like magnets. Jason gathered the naked boy up in his arms and hugged him. With a sense of release the boy responded, almost strangling Jason. "Okay, okay." Jason said gently. "Here, maybe this will help." He laid the boy back down, got a glove and some KY and explained, "I'm going to gently massage your prostate. You remember what that is?" The boy nodded, as Jason inserted his finger in the boy's asshole. He found the boys prostate. It was swollen, and Jason palpated it delicately as he began a gentle massage. "Your body is pretty amazing, but sometimes, you can push it past the limit. You understand?" The boy nodded slowly again. "Does that feel any better?" the doctor asked
"A little," Ralph said tentatively. "I can feel it getting better."
"Good, Ralphie. I'm glad."
Jason smiled at the memory as he quietly left Ralph's room. Before returning to his own residence, Jason looked in on Sean one more time. The boy lay on his back, completely naked. "Oh my sweet boy," Jason breathed. "Rest well."