Date: Sun, 18 Jan 2004 18:31:58 EST
From: Badgod69@aol.com
Subject: PUNKBOY, Day 2

In my early 30's I had a 16 year-old punk boy who called himself Skunk
crash at my apartment for 3 days while he and his friends and I tried to
find a place for him to stay.  His parents had kicked him out pretty much
just for being a punk and getting involved in the whole punk scene.  They
were also not happy about his personal grooming hygiene.  As a punk, Skunk
wore his clothes for weeks and rarely bathed.  He also told me he NEVER
used deodorant for a couple of reasons.  First, it pissed people off.
Secondly, he liked the stink of his own sweat and kind of got off on it.
For myself, while I at first wanted nothing to do with taking this kid in
for any amount of time, once he was here it turned out to be a remarkable 3
days.

On his first night at my apartment he ended up draped across the foot of my
bed, stark naked and sucking his own dick.  It's a long story, but if
you've read the first part of this recollection, you'll already know the
details.

The plan was for Skunk to go to school the next day while I was at work.
At that time, I was employed at a local theatre company teaching acting
classes to teenagers in the training program.  I had first become
acquainted with his dilemma and finally met him through one of Skunk's
friends in the program, a spectacular student named Seth.  After school
hours Seth came in for his classes and asked me how my first night with
Skunk had gone.

"Fine.  He's an interesting guy," was all I said.

Seth laughed and nodded.  He told me that Skunk was a pretty wild kid,
especially when he was drunk.  This surprised me, because just the night
before Skunk had told me that his drug of choice was weed and that he
rarely drank because he didn't like alcohol.  I asked Seth if Skunk got
drunk a lot.

"Oh, hell yeah!  Every time I've seen him at shows he's been wasted!"  He
shook his head and chuckled as though he was recalling some particularly
memorable incidents.

I had given Skunk a key to my apartment the night before after laying down
some basic house rules with him.  He had agreed to all of them and told me
that he would either meet me at the theatre after school or that he'd just
go back to my place and wait for me to get home.

By quitting time, I hadn't seen him so I figured he had gone back to my
place.  On the way home I stopped at the store to get some groceries.  He
and I had agreed that we would make dinner together that night.

When I got home, my arms full of packages, Skunk was in the living room,
watching T.V., listening to one of my Oi! CDs pretty damn loud, and talking
on the phone.  He had put the hide-a-bed back and was on the sofa, stripped
down to the boxers I had given him to wear the night before.  His blond
hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed, all spikes and dents and
bumps.  Those pale blue elfin eyes roamed around the room after making
brief contact with mine, and I noticed that the bruise around his right eye
looked less intense than it had the night before.  His pale, scrawny chest
looked like it belonged to a 13 year-old more than it did to a 16 year-old.
His nipples were reddish pink with little raised nubs, just the right size
for digging your nails into or biting hard.  He had one arm behind his
head, lolling back onto the sofa.  The surprisingly thick mat of damp blond
hair in his pit glistened with his potent sweat.  I could smell him as soon
as I walked in.  He waved at me and then continued his phone conversation.
I only needed to hear a few sentences before I knew he was pretty drunk.  I
got pissed off instantly, but decided to talk to him first before blowing
up.  I unpacked the groceries and by the time I was done he had hung up.

"Hey, dude!" he called out as he stretched and yawned.  "What are we having
for dinner?"

I ignored his question because I had plenty of my own that I wanted
answered.

"Did you go to school today?"

He flung himself backwards on the sofa, stretched out full length, and went
back to watching the television.

"Did you hear me?"

"Well, I was going to but you took my clothes last night so I didn't have
anything to wear.  So I just kicked it here," he told me, casually defiant.

"Dude, I washed and dried your clothes before I went to work this morning
and left them in the bathroom.  I left you a note on the kitchen table.
You must have seen them in the bathroom," I said, trying to not yell at
him.

"I haven't been in the bathroom today, dude, so how could I see them?"

"What do you mean you haven't been in the bathroom today?  Didn't you have
to use it all fucking day?"  My blood was starting to boil.

"Actually, (which came out "ashoolee") no.  I pissed in the sink.  I don't
like toilets."  He reached over to the coffee table and grabbed what I now
noticed was a bottle of beer from my refrigerator.

"What?  What the hell are you talking about?  You pissed in what sink?  In
the kitchen sink??"

I couldn't believe this.  He had caught me somewhere between fury and
amazement.  Nevertheless, the idea of his standing in my kitchen, pissing
in the sink was sort of hot.  But he had lied to me and I was angry.

Skunk just giggled that reedy, adenoidal laugh of his, then belched a loud
beer burp.

"Yep!"  He smiled at me.

"So you just stayed here all day and got drunk?"  I asked the question
quietly and deadly calm.

He sighed and crossed his arms behind his head, his hairy, smelly pits
proudly on display.

"Basically.  Whatever," he said, still staring at the TV.  I remembered yet
again why I'm not a parent.

I turned the TV off and then switched off the stereo.

"Listen, dude, this isn't a fucking hotel and you're not on vacation.  You
fucking get your ass to school tomorrow or get yourself and your shit out
of here before I get home, is that clear?"  I was barely able to prevent
myself from hauling him up off the goddamn couch by his scrawny arm.

I guess he took me seriously, because his pale, almond-shaped eyes seemed
to grow huge in his head.  He even half-sat up on the couch and listened to
me with the mixed expression of a child being given the lecture he knows he
deserves and a sneering, leering imp, ready to pounce.

He didn't say anything for a second.

"OK."

"OK, what?" I asked, even more exasperated.  "OK you understand or OK
you'll get your ass to school tomorrow and be welcome back here for another
night?"

"Yeah, I'll go to fucking school!"  He said this loud and drunkenly, half
belligerent, half playfully.

I wanted to yell and argue some more but he wasn't giving me much to work
with.

"How drunk are you?" I barked at him.

"Not drunk enough."  He laughed and drew his knees up, doubling over and
falling back into the sofa.

The entire situation began to seem bizarrely funny to me and I had to
swallow a grin.

"I can't believe you, you fucking little bastard."  I had started to laugh.
"You fucking sit on your ass all day doing god knows what drinking my
fucking booze.  You got some balls, man!"

He just stared at me, an evil Peter Pan grin spreading across his impish
face.

"By the way, I found my thermal under your bed while I was snooping around.
Guess you forgot to wash it."  His eyes widened as his grin cracked into a
smile, exposing those little pearly-white baby teeth.

Little fucker.

"So what?"

"Were you gonna use it for a cum rag?"

"You want the truth?"  I decided I would give him a dose of his brutal,
punk honesty.  "I get off on the smell of sweat and I was jacking off to it
when you came into my room last night."  There.  Deal with that one.

He stared at me open-mouthed for a moment, then his eyes gleamed and he
started to laugh.

"No fuckin' way!  For serious?"  He was getting hyper on the sofa.

 I just nodded and he collapsed, howling with laughter.  I wasn't sure what
to do.

"That is so fuckin' rad, that is SO cool!  That fuckin' rocks!!"  He was
looking at me with a newfound respect, I guess.  "So what, you were like
sniffing it while you were jerking off last night when I came in on you?"
He was all ears.

"Dude, that shirt fucking reeks!"  I tried evading the question.  "What
were you doing in my bedroom today anyway?"

"Just snoopin' around.  I was hoping I'd find some weed but all I found was
your porn and those 2 butt toys in your cabinet."  He sort of snorted in
scorn.

"You're a nosy little fuck," I said.

"Dude, don't trip.  It's cool.  I seen 'em before."  He paused.  "And I
drank a lot of your beer but I'll get some money tomorrow and pay you
back."

I wanted to change the subject now.

"Well, get your ass up and let's make dinner."

I walked into the kitchen as he sighed in protest and hauled himself off
the couch.  As I passed him I noticed how strong and sharp his sweat was,
odd for a kid this fair and young.

He stood next to me at the counter as I started getting the food ready to
cook.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Get those dishes washed and set the table," I snapped back.  He had left
the sink full of dirty dishes and greasy pans from earlier that day.

Skunk sighed heavily and turned the faucet on to wash the dishes.

"And make sure you rinse the sink out before you start washing.  I don't
want my dishes soaking in your piss," I added.

He started laughing quietly and soon I was laughing with him.  I had my
back to him chopping vegetables while he splashed around in the sink.

Once I had the food prepared I left the kitchen and went into my bedroom.
I could hear Skunk rattling the dishes around as he washed up.  He was
already fairly drunk so I figured it couldn't hurt to pack a bowl of weed
and get us stoned; it might even mellow me out.  I noticed a beer can on
the floor beside my bed.  The bedcovers were rumpled and I supposed he had
either fallen asleep on my bed or had been doing something else entirely.
I took my stash and pipe out of their hiding place, packed a fat bowl, lit
it, and returned to the kitchen.  Skunk's back was towards me when I walked
in and I came close to him before I exhaled a long stream of pot smoke
towards him.  He immediately spun around, splashing me with some warm,
soapy water.  When he saw the pipe his eyes lit up.

"Aw, hell yeah, now we're talkin'!" he said.

I passed the pipe and lighter to him and he held the flame to the bowl,
drawing in a huge chestful of smoke.  He held it in for a long time before
he blew it out, aiming it right at my face.  I squinted and breathed in,
savoring the taste and smell of the secondhand burning weed.  He passed the
pipe back to me and I took another big toke. As I inhaled he raised his
arms and stretched like a lazy puppy, then placed his hands behind his
head, exposing his stinky pits again, just staring at me with a faintly
mischievous smile on his face.  The weed was already making me feel giddy
and horny as hell.

"I take it you didn't shower today," I said.

He laughed quietly, then raised his eyebrows.

"Take a whiff and check it out for yourself."  He adjusted his upraised arm
so all I had to do was lean forward and bury my face in the rank thatch of
hair.  I felt like he was daring me.

I had a raging boner by now and I could feel the meaty club shift in my
boxers.

I smelled his pit with my nose just a fraction of an inch from the moist
hair.  His stench was intoxicating, strong and skunky, like day-old onion
slices.

"Fuck, you reek, dude."  My voice sounded shaky and odd.  He giggled as my
tongue involuntarily flicked deep into his pit.  I could taste the sharp
tang of his sweat.

"You like my b.o., don't you?  Smells sexy, smells masculine..."  He
whispered it.

I grabbed his upraised arm and pulled it closer to my face.  I took a deep
breath through my nose and slowly let it out as I ran the flat of my wet
tongue deep into his pit.  He giggled again, but it sounded nasty this
time.

I pulled myself away from him and said, "Damn!  Dude, we need to eat!"

He stretched again and scratched his nuts.  His boxers were beginning to
tent.

We had a good meal and again Skunk dished himself out seconds and thirds.
I loved watching him eat because it was a half-adolescent, half-animal way
of eating.  He used both hands for grabbing at his food and shoveling it
into his mouth.  He made noises while he ate and normally I would find this
gross, but from Skunk it sounded like a young tiger eating. While he chewed
he would occasionally fondle his dick with one hand for maybe 15 seconds at
a time, still completely occupied with eating.  I couldn't take my eyes off
him. I had never met a kid like him before and he fascinated me.  The odd
effect of his features and facial structure making him look elf-like was
never so strong as when he was occupied with feeding himself.  He rarely
looked at me, totally absorbed by the act of eating.

"So what are we gonna do after dinner?" he asked with a full mouth.

"What do you want to do?"

"Maybe we could smoke some more weed and watch porn," he replied before
gulping down half a bottle of beer.

"Sure, after we clean up and you do the dishes."

"Fuck, I just did a shitload of dishes!" he whined, letting out a huge burp
after speaking.

"You eat, you clean up.  That's the rule, Skunk."

"Fuck...," he murmured under his breath, then belched again.

By the time we were through cleaning up, Skunk and I had drunk a few beers
and I even broke out my bong so we would take a few rips while we washed
up.  We were both pretty wasted by the time we came back to the living room
to watch some porn.  But first I went into my bedroom and got out of my
work clothes. On week-days I use just a tiny burst of Right Guard under my
arms so that by the end of the day I hardly know I wore deodorant at all.
On weekends and vacations I never use it.  I hadn't bothered taking a
shower that morning because I ran out of time from doing his damn laundry.
So this night my pits were pretty damn ripe, too.  I left my stinky t-shirt
and my boxers on.

When I got back to the living room, he was sprawled on the couch and I
popped a hardcore bisexual fuck flick into the VCR.  This one was all
amateur stuff, but with lots of variety.  The first scene was a group of 7
young, white, English skinheads gang-banging a black girl and a Pakistani
boy.  From there it got even wilder and rougher.  I thought he'd like it.

I turned back to the sofa and told him to move over so I could sit down.
He scooted to one end of the couch and I sat at the other.  Skunk still had
his boxers on and they were tenting like mad.  He kept pulling the fabric
taut over his erect cock, running his fingertips over the covered head of
his dick.  Wet spots started appearing on his boxers and he was breathing
shallowly.  I had my hand inside my boxers, playing with my pubes, stroking
my hard cock, cupping and tugging my hairy balls.  I whipped my smelly
t-shirt off and tossed it onto the coffee table.  My sweat stink wafted
over to him I guess, because he turned and looked at me as he raised his
knees and pulled his boxers off, tossing them onto the coffee table next to
my t-shirt.

"I can smell your b.o., dude."  He said it like he liked it.  "Nice," he
added after a short silence.

He was making me really horny.  I pulled my boxers off so I could free my
raging hard cock to the air.  I knew my balls were going to stink after not
showering and working hard all day.

Skunk was watching my every move.  He adjusted his position so that he was
now leaning against the arm of the couch facing me.

"Sit like me," he suggested.

I did, and we looked at each other as we began to seriously beat off.  It
was a good position for us, because all we had to do was turn our heads a
bit to see the semi-violent porn, then turn back to watch each other
stroke.  Skunk had a leg crooked with his foot on the sofa.  He spread his
legs as far as he could and looked down at his crotch to make sure his
little butthole was on display.  He lifted his balls up and hocked a wad of
spit at his crotch.  I mirrored his position so that he could see my hairy
asshole while I played with my nuts.  Eyes shining, he jerked a little
faster as he let his gaze travel all over my sweaty body.

"Damn, dude, you got a hairy assole.  Mine's not that hairy but I got
some..."

As his jacking picked up speed he farted and then laughed.  He stretched
his legs out beside me and I did the same, so that our feet were now level
with each other's head.  I watched him fondle his hard dick, and he watched
me watch him.  He moved his big feet closer to my head, brushing a foot
against my face.  I could smell his foot funk.  I turned my face towards
the TV which also meant I had his foot right in front of my face.  I
inhaled deeply and Skunk laughed.

"My feet fuckin' stink, don't they?" he said, taking a break from pounding
his cock.  I just moved my face even closer to his foot and gave his toes a
lick.  It must have tickled, because he giggled and twitched.  He placed a
hand on my hairy calf and stroked it gently.  This was the first time he
had touched me intimately.  Again, he adjusted his position.  He bent his
leg closest to me so that he now had one foot planted on the other side of
my torso, the other leg still stretched out near my face.

This was all driving me crazy.  Here I was with a horny 16 year-old punk
boy, naked and jacking off, letting him drink and getting him stoned.  It
reminded me of my high school days with my skinhead fuck buddy, Choke.  I
needed to take a break because I was getting too close to shooting and it
was still early, not even 10 o'clock yet.  I wanted to make this last.  I
got up and went into the kitchen to get us a couple of beers.  Then I had a
better idea.  Why drink beer when there's good scotch in the house?  I
pulled a bottle of Crown Royal out from where I keep it and poured about 4
shots each into 2 glasses.  When I came back into the living room Skunk was
gone.

Just as I was about to call out his name he came back into the room from
the direction of my bedroom.  He was grinning at me like I had caught him
doing something and it was at that moment that I noticed he had my "butt
toys" - as he called them - in his hand.

He flung himself backwards onto the sofa and said, "Can we play with
these?"

"Yeah, if you want," I answered, wondering how familiar this kid was with
dildos.  "Here," I added as I handed him a glass of scotch.  He took it
from me, smelled it, screwed up his nose like he didn't like the smell,
then took a tentative sip.

"Damn!" he said.  "This shit is potent!"

"Cheers!"  I raised my glass to him, then tossed it back and swallowed a
huge gulp of the molten liquid and felt its familiar heat course through my
body.  Scotch always makes me want to get crazy and fuck.

He raised his glass in imitation of my gesture, then tossed it back and
drained the glass.  When he was through I noticed that his eyes were
watering.  I laughed at him.

"More?"  I asked, having thought to bring the bottle in with me.

"Just give me the bottle," he gasped, leaning forward so he could take it
from my hand.  When he had a hold of it he wrapped his lips around the
bottle neck and took several deep chugs.

"Dude, you better be careful.  I don't wanna have to deal with you puking
all fucking night."

"Don't worry, man, I can hold my alcohol."

I snorted in derision, feeling myself beginning to get a tad belligerent.
I liked the sensation of getting juiced up from alcohol.

"Fuck you," he laughed, then slapped the couch next to him a couple of
times.

"Get your ass over here!" he barked, eyes blurry and his speech getting
more slurred.  I clambered over him, both of us laughing at each other's
clumsiness.  We were all legs and arms and he made sure that his stinky
pits came close to my face every chance he got.  Eventually, we were lying
down next to each other again, head to toe.

By now I was well on my way to being officially drunk.  Nasty ideas
careened through the twisting byways of my brain.  One look at Skunk and I
knew he was in a similar state.  I forced myself to focus on him,
determined not to get so drunk that I couldn't function.  I didn't care if
he got shit-faced plastered and passed out, I was still gonna get my nut.
In the blue light of the porn video, Skunk looked sexier than I had yet
seen him.  Maybe it was the booze, but he looked amazing to me.  His pale
flesh almost glowed in the dim light and I could see the sweat glisten on
his body.  The hot, swampy stink of his perspiration was getting stronger
every time I breathed in.  His nipples looked hard and swollen, tiny
versions of his stiff prick.  I grabbed one of his legs and made him spread
wide so I could see his tiny pink asshole.  He laughed like a typical drunk
teenager, loud and raucous, almost like a donkey braying.

"Watch," he said.  His asshole suddenly distended a bit and I could see the
wet, shiny interior of his anus.  The wheat-colored hair surrounding his
shithole was glazed with butt sweat and his balls were roiling.  Those
little wet puckered lips disappeared as he stopped pushing out.  He grunted
and there they were again.

"Fuck, that's hot," I tried to say, watching his face this time.  He had
his eyes closed and there was a strained expression on his face, making it
flush red.  His eyes slowly opened halfway and he smiled at me.

"You like that?" he said.

"Yeah, I like hearing you grunt, too."

"Sounds like I'm gonna take a shit," he said, nodding sagely, proud of and
turned on by his own nastiness.  Nothing makes me hornier than a dude who
gets off on his dirty mind and this kid had a filthy one.

I needed a smoke so I climbed over him and walked over to my desk to get my
cigarettes.  My cock was leaking lots of precum and a strand of it was
hanging from the piss slit.  As I grabbed my smokes and turned back to him
I slowly rotated my hips so that my stiff cock bobbed up and down, back and
forth, forcing more precum to ooze out.  The strand grew in length and just
before I knew it was going to drop free I let it touch my fingers and I
swooped it up and sucked it off my hand.  Skunk moaned and giggled, his
high-pitched chuckling making him sound like a much younger kid.

After watching him suck his own cock so happily the night before, I figured
he'd have no problem with sucking mine now.  Still standing there, I lit a
cigarette and then threw the pack and my lighter at him when he reached out
his grubby hand, as if saying "I want one, too."

He had some trouble matching up the lighter's flame with the end of his
cigarette but finally he got it lit.  I was laughing at him the whole time.
He sucked in a mouthful of smoke and then blew it out at me before he
replaced the cigarette between his lips.  He squinted to keep the smoke
from getting in his eye and started beating his punk meat again.  What an
amazing photo this would be, I thought to myself.

I flopped back onto the sofa next to him.

"Suck my dick, dude," I said.

"Nah, I wanna play with my ass for a while."

He reached out and grabbed one of the dildos.  The one he grabbed was a
true cock-shaped dildo, about 7" long and not too fat.  The balls at its
base moved some so it felt pretty real when it was up your ass, especially
if you fucked yourself hard with it so the balls slapped your ass.  That
meant I got the other toy, which is something called an anal probe.
Basically, it's a handle attached to a flexible, tapering shaft, topped by
a bulbous head, shaped something like an egg.  It was about 9" long and you
could go good and deep with it.  It doesn't really feel like a hard dick
once it's inside you, but it does feel awesome.

Skunk fingered his little hole for a while before he lubed up his finger
and stuck it slowly up his ass.  I was facing him on the couch, stretched
out opposite him again.  I lubed up my toy and slid it up my asshole.  It
felt so fucking good, especially watching Skunk get ready to shove his
dildo up his tight, pink hole.  I was fucking my ass with a good steady
rhythm, groaning from how good it was making me feel, stroking my cock with
my other fist.  Skunk strained and pushed out his asshole again, allowing
the dildo to enter his hole easier.  He squinched up his eyes in pain and
winced, sucking in his breath through his gritted teeth.  Finally he got it
all the way in to the fake balls and then he took a pause before starting
in on his ass.  He was watching me fuck my ass and jerk off, but I noticed
that he was obviously having trouble keeping his eyes focused.  The huge
amount of scotch plus all the beer and weed was catching up with his 16
year-old capacity for intoxication.  I was older and bigger than him so I
could handle more.

He started fucking his ass now, legs spread and bent, all entangled with
mine.  He was making a high-pitched moaning and whining in the back of his
throat.

"Ah - ah - ah -- oh fuck it's in me I'm fuckin' myself dude feels so
fuckin' good hurts oh fuck me it hurts so fuckin' deep so good..."  He
continued saying hot shit like that while he fucked himself harder and
harder with the dildo.

I batted his hand away and worked the dildo in and out of his asshole.  He
was shaking his head back and forth wildly, thrashing from the sensations
flooding his young body.  All of a sudden he looked up at me and smiled.
He was completely wasted and loving it.  I felt his hand on mine so I let
go of the probe in my ass and let him take over.  He shoved hard and the
probe rammed my guts, bringing me close to the edge of shooting my nut all
over the place.  We were alternating from looking at each other's assholes
getting fucked by the dildos we were in control of, and then back at our
faces.  He was almost delirious with pleasure and horniness, and I was
getting ready to blast.

"Come in your face.  I wanna see you shoot that shit in your face," I
slurred at him.

He was whimpering now, sweat streaming down his neck and chest, stinking
sweat streaming from his pits.

"Hard, fuck me harder!"  He yelled it at me.

All of a sudden he grabbed the dildo away from me and plunged it hard into
his guts.  He slammed his head back hard onto the arm of the sofa every
time shoved it back up his ass.

"Fuck!  I'm gonna nut..." he gasped out.  His face was red and
demonic-looking.  A spasm wracked his body for an instant and then he sort
of curled his chest forward and arched his hips up, still wildly fucking
his ass.

He began growling as his cock prepared to erupt.  Suddenly he bellowed and
opened his mouth wide as a thick streamer of hot cum flew out of his cock
and plastered his forehead and cheek.  A second rope launched and went
directly into his mouth.  A third jet with about half the distance popped
out and hit his upper chest.  A few more weak spurts followed, leaving
shiny, wet pools of sperm dotting his belly and chest.

I was close and getting closer.

"I'm gonna cum..." I rasped out, my voice sounding thick and crazy.  Skunk
sat up super fast, the dildo still lodged to its hilt up his ass and fucked
me faster and harder with my probe.  He leaned forward and raised his arm,
bringing it close enough to my face for me to get the full effect of his
sweat stink.  One whiff of that funk and I let loose with a powerful jet of
hot nut that shot straight up in the air like a geyser before a rapid
series of orgasms sent my bleachy-smelling sperm spraying everywhere.  I
came harder and faster than I had in a long time.  My jizz was all over
both of us and Skunk was laughing as he crumpled backwards against his end
of the sofa.

Exhausted and completely spent, I leaned my head back on the arm of the
sofa and tried to catch my breath as I pulled the probe out of my violated
asshole.  The sweat that had broken out all over my body began to cool and
it felt good.  I looked up and saw Skunk's head lolling drunkenly as he
tried to hold his head up and failed, finally letting it rest on the sofa
arm.  His little red lips were parted and I could see that he was about to
pass out.  I leaned my head back for a few seconds to rest.

When I opened my eyes again I looked at the little clock on the coffee
table.  I had been asleep for a little less than an hour.  Skunk was still
passed out in the same position I had seen him last, one leg on the floor,
the other leg bent and leaning against the back of the couch.  One of his
arms was dangling off the side of the couch, his fingers touching the
floor.  The dildo was still deep in his ass, but Skunk's strange, beautiful
face looked blissful and content.  I disentangled myself from Skunk and
climbed over him off the couch.  I was still pretty wasted but had sobered
up enough to be able to stand without having the room spin around me.  I
used my dirty t-shirt to wipe the still damp cum off myself as best I
could.  I lit a cigarette and sat back down on the edge of the sofa and
turned to leisurely examine the naked boy beside me.

I have to admit that all sorts of nasty ideas began to course through my
alcohol-dazed brain again as I looked at him.  But mostly I wanted to get
him cleaned up a bit and put him to bed.  I figured it would be easier to
scoop his skinny body up in my arms and put him in my bed than it would be
for me to have to wake him up, get him off the couch and get the hide-a-bed
out.  I resigned myself to sleeping on the sofa bed and letting him sleep
in my bed.  But first I reached over and gently pulled the dildo out of his
asshole.  It came out easy enough with a soft popping noise.  Skunk just
moaned once and then sighed as it exited his anus.  I knew that nothing
would really wake him up until tomorrow and that he was going to have one
hell of a hangover.  I figured I would have a nasty hangover, too, which
was not good.  It was now shortly after 1 a.m. and I had to be at work in
less than 7 hours.  I dropped the dildo to the floor and was going to wipe
his body off with my t-shirt.  But then that nasty voice in my head
suggested that I wait to clean him up until I had him in my bed.  That way
I could feel the dampness of his cum-slicked body pressed against mine as I
carried him to my bedroom.

I hauled him to his feet, then bent down and maneuvered him onto my
shoulder.  I felt like Santa Claus as I walked to my bedroom with a large
sack of boy slung over my back.  I could smell his ass and the stink of his
sweat and all that cum; the smell gave me another boner as I gently flopped
him onto my bed.  I placed him on his back so I could clean him up some.  I
knelt beside him, t-shirt poised to begin the mopping up.  But first I
wanted to examine him a little more closely than I had been able to thus
far.  His pubes were coated with drying cum, but it was still wet enough to
make little squishing noises when I ran my fingers over and through them.
The lushness of his blond pubes surprised me a bit because the rest of his
body was so smooth.  His soft prick was still red from the thrashing it had
received a little while ago.  His big balls hung loose and heavy between
his thighs.  I leaned down to inhale the heady, cheesy aroma of sweat and
cum trapped in his crotch.  Would he know if I swallowed his soft dick and
licked his balls?  Would he remember feeling my mouth on his nipples or my
teeth as they bit down hard on the little raised nubs?  These images ran
through my head and for a moment I considered doing all of them; but
whatever ethical sense I had left prevented me from doing this.  I cleaned
his front as best I could before rolling him over onto his stomach so I
could clean up his flip side.  When I rolled him over he groaned a little
in protest, but then went immediately back to quasi-snoring.  In the dim
lamplight of my bedroom, his little boy's butt, round and perfectly formed
like two small hams, glowed palely with an almost supernatural light.  The
cleft between his butt cheeks was lightly furred with whitish-blond hair,
more hair than I had thought I'd find there.  His tiny pink hole looked
shiny and greasy.  I wiped his ass clean and then kissed each cheek.  I
wanted so badly to lower my naked body on top of his so I could slide my
now hard cock between that hairy cleft and shoot my load, letting him wake
up tomorrow morning wondering why his butt cheeks felt like they were glued
together.  That would give him something to think about all day long.  But
again, I got my raging libido under control and restrained myself.

I pulled the blankets over him and left him lying on his stomach.  I didn't
want him to puke in his sleep and choke to death.

I went back to the living room and hauled out the sofa bed, then cleaned up
the room a bit.  I left the dildos in the kitchen sink; I would wash them
tomorrow morning before I left for work.  I set the alarm on the little
clock on the coffee table.  As I climbed into bed and began to drift off to
sleep, I wondered whether or not I should wake him up in the morning and
drop him off at school on my way to work.  I knew that if I were him I
would definitely cut school tomorrow, especially if I had a hangover.

The next thing I remember is waking up to the alarm.  The entire day seemed
blurry and surreal, although my hangover was a lot less severe than I had
thought it would be.  For that I was very thankful.

The chief thought in my head that day was wondering whether or not Skunk
would still be at my house when I got home later that evening.  I had no
idea of what I was in for when I got home.