Date: Sat, 04 Jan 2020 12:11:27 +0000 From: destabilizer15 Subject: "Young Lovers," Chapter 41 Chapter 41 Joon and I were lying in bed reading. Parker was out with his guest, the same smitten guy who lately he'd been spending nearly every minute with when he wasn't in school. Johnny had a new guest as well. I found myself unable to concentrate, and my mind drifted back to the events of a couple nights before. Two full days had passed and I still found myself stunned at what had happened with Joon and Parker. I don't know whether I was more amazed at the aggressive sexual animal that Parker had suddenly transformed into or the submissive bottom who had suddenly emerged in Joon. As I thought about it I was totally pleased with what had happened with Parker. It would be nothing but good for his self confidence to see himself as sexually aggressive, confident, even dominating. And thinking about it later I realized that, with his bulging musculature and his wild man hair, that sexual dominance somehow totally suited him. It was a fit, at least physically -- and it was incredibly hot. The situation with Joon was more complicated -- but then, the situation with Joon was always more complicated, no matter what the topic. I initially was mystified when he suddenly rolled onto his back and ordered Parker to fuck him. Then I figured, well, it was payback for Parker's choice to free him from his bonds rather than rape him. I was full of admiration for him at first when, after it was all over, he told me he'd asked to be topped out of compassion. Compassion for Parker. With everyone but me he always had to be the tough, dominant guy, and even with me he would only submit after I'd defeated him in a physical struggle. His willing submission to Parker seemed to be a very big step for him. But then I realized there was just one problem with this explanation. That splitting hard erection he'd had all the time Parker was screwing him. That explosion of cum all over both of their bodies. The obvious ecstasy of his orgasm. Maybe his had been a generous act of compassion for Parker -- but it had sure as hell turned him on too. Did this mean Joon was ready to enjoy being a bottom with someone besides me? Was this his true sexual identity? I turned to him then and placed my hand on his flat chest. He ignored me. I flicked my thumb several times over one nipple, then drew my hand slowly down his long belly, tracing the black scorpion with my fingertips, feeling the softness of his skin. I slipped my hand caressingly over his limp cock and then onto his warm balls and left it there. He turned and looked at me. I leaned forward and kissed him. He nibbled my lips and then sucked my tongue into his mouth. After a minute or so I pulled back and we fell into each other's eyes. "I love you," I whispered. "I know." ********************************* It was the night before Olympics week, which I had learned was the biggest event of the year on the island. I had begun to get caught up in everyone's excitement anticipating the upcoming week, and I got to wondering about some of the boys I'd felt a special bond with. Would some of them be participating? Ace was obviously a natural athlete, though knowing his impoverished past he probably never got to play youth sports or anything. I could imagine Kip and Alric competing -- there was something physically graceful and agile about them, in how they moved. Then of course there was Ronny -- I was sure he'd be a winner, probably more than once. And what about Ian? Dancing wasn't a sport, but His Majesty was obviously very strong and agile, and he could probably do well in lots of sports if he could butch it up enough. And Byron -- were there any boys on the island who could match his strength and fitness? Then there was Jack. The previous day I had run into him leaving the cafeteria and asked him about his participation. "Are you just in the sex events next week or are you doing a sport?" I asked, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Marco wants me to do sports too. They want me doing stuff every day. Cause, mmm, they think -- well, you know." "They think lots of men will bet a lot of money on you `cause -- mmm -- I guess you're such a good athlete!" I grinned. Jack snickered. "Well, something like that!" "So what are you competing in?" "One day it's swimming, and there's three sex days, and there's volleyball, and then . . . " The boy seemed to forget for a second. "Oh, yeah, wrestling." "Wrestling!" I exclaimed, startled. "I don't know why they want me to wrestle. I'm no good at it." "Sure you do -- like I said, you'll bring in lots of cash!" He got a mischievous look on his face. "You know we do it naked?" "Yeah?" I grinned. "Well for sure lots of guests will bet on you then! But you know, you doing wrestling is gonna make it hard for me because I was all set to root for Johnny! Now, I don't know . . ." Jack smirked. "Don't worry, I won't make it to the finals like him -- I told you, I suck!" I gave him a one-arm hug. "You can suck me any time, hot stuff!" He looked up at me with his thousand-watt smile. "So are there any boys who aren't competing at all this week?" I asked. Jack shrugged. "Maybe. Everybody I know is, though." ****************************** The week of the Young Lovers Olympics was to begin with wrestling. Johnny had told me that, if he were to win, he would have three matches. "I'n gonna be the champ'in," he told me with a grin. But I noticed that all that day, despite his self-confidence, he had been unable to sit still, and that evening he had insisted that Byron go with him to the gym to get in some last-minute practice. "Man, I gotta get rested up for my own shit!" Byron had protested. "Your own shit? You don't need to rest up, man!" Joon admonished, looking up from his book. "Besides, you're in like seven events or something, right? If you aren't rested up by now it's too late." "How are you in seven events?" I asked. "A few days ago you could barely walk!" Byron shrugged diffidently. "I'm OK. It's nothin'." In the end Byron had acceded to Johnny's wishes and the two of them spent the evening at the gym. In contrast to Johnny Joon had been as cool as a cucumber all day. It was as if the upcoming week would involve nothing more challenging than taking a test in a class he was already acing. I had heard more rumors about how good the kid was who would likely wind up being Joon's opponent in the taekwando competition. However, when I asked Joon about him, he was dismissive, as I might have expected. "Some Asian Mexican mongrel," he sniffed. "He thinks he's some kind of punk rocker. All noise and theatrics. He's got no game." I wondered if this were really true. Joon's cool reminded me a bit of how he behaved in his confrontation with Lawrence. That night, although I could tell he was furious, he had seemed completely unruffled on the outside -- indeed, ice cold -- right before the big fight. Maybe his calm indifference was how he got himself right mentally. All competitors have their ways, I knew. Still, I couldn't put out of my mind the fact that Joon had spent hours the past couple of weeks training and sparring, hours he would usually have spent reading. "By the way," Joon added, his nose still in his book, "I've made a change. I already talked to Marco about it." "A change?" "Yeah." I waited. "Are you gonna tell me what it is?" "I'm gonna let the highest bidder fuck me when I win." This was indeed a change -- a big change. The arrangement Joon and I had persuaded Marco to agree to a few days earlier had been that when the martial arts finals were announced -- assuming Joon was in it -- the audience would be told that the winning boy would not be available to the top bidder. Thus the guests would be betting only to win money but not a boy. "I'd be a shitty bottom," Joon had commented, not realizing how that could be taken, and getting ribbed thoroughly by Marco and me as a result. Once the laughter had died down, Joon had continued. "Seriously, I wouldn't even get hard!" "And you'd just lie there and take it, like a sack of potatoes," Marco had observed. "With all of your usual charm, I'm sure." Joon ignored this jibe. Marco made a theatrical sigh, with a twinkle in his eye. "OK, fine, more potential Young Lovers income up in smoke courtesy of Joon Tiang." Joon snorted. "You're gonna make so much fucking money off the Olympics it's ludicrous. You'll never even miss what you'd make off some guy screwing me." That had been last week. Now Joon was saying something very different. "So you've decided you don't want to deprive Young Lovers of their rightful earnings?" I asked, knowing full well that couldn't be it. "I've decided my pride can handle it." "Well, that's good, I'm always happy for you when you master your ego. But what you said to Marco is true, you don't get hard when you -- oh wait a minute!" I suddenly remembered a few nights ago. When Joon had been half out of his mind in orgasmic pleasure as Parker rammed him with his big thick cock. We looked at each other. "Maybe things have changed . . ." I said softly. "Maybe they have," Joon replied, staring at me steadily. "And maybe they haven't. Only one way to find out." ********************************* Johnny returned late from the gym with Byron. They were both dripping with sweat, and they jumped in the shower together. Afterward, as they toweled themselves off, Johnny said, "Byron, sleep here tonight, `kay?" "Man I'm gonna be wrestling tomorrow! I need to get some sleep tonight," Byron replied. "I need my own bed." Johnny looked downcast and didn't say anything. He went into the bathroom and we could hear him peeing. "So you worried about losing tomorrow?" Joon asked mildly. "You think Omar or Troy's gonna kick your ass?" "Shit. I just wanna be ready, is all." Joon looked at him and then, in a quiet tone I'd never heard from him, said, "He needs you. Sleep here." Byron blinked, obviously not knowing what to do with this. Joon shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at what he was revealing to Byron. I decided to help out. Caressing Byron's bare shoulder, I said, "This competition is a big deal to him, and you're his coach, man. Maybe you don't know how important you are to him. He loves you." Byron met my eyes and our gazes held. He then looked away and then sniffed. "Just don't keep me awake half the night fucking then." Joon and I exchanged looks. I gave him a wink. He looked away. Not long after that the four of us moved into the bedroom and undressed. Johnny climbed into bed at once on the far side. Joon sat down in the chair, still engrossed in Dostoevsky, and began playing with his black cock. Byron stretched and yawned, then climbed into bed on the near side away from Johnny, obviously assuming Joon would sleep next to Johnny, as usual. Joon looked up. "Scoot over," he said to Byron. "I wanna be on this side." He turned back to his reading. Byron looked blank and uncomprehending. I saw what Joon was doing. He wanted Byron to cuddle Johnny this night instead of him. My heart swelled with pride in him. I gestured to Byron to move over next to Johnny and then climbed in next to him. Johnny beamed at this, and Byron allowed himself a thin smile. After a couple of minutes Joon closed his book, tossed it aside, visited the bathroom for a minute, and then turned off the light and settled into bed next to me. I put my arm around him and pulled him to me, back to front. "You're all right, kid," I whispered, giving him a little kiss. "Your jealousy is your demon. Tonight you beat him." Joon said nothing, but he snuggled his ass back into me. I folded an arm over him and kissed him again. He was asleep in ten seconds. I smiled to myself as I remembered those days. I awoke sometime in the middle of the night. I had turned onto my back in my sleep. I heard deep, regular breathing next to me and turned, remembering that Byron was there. As my eyes adjusted to the dark room I was able to see the two boys to my right. The sheet was thrown completely off them. Johnny lay halfway onto Byron, one arm and one leg thrown over him. Byron lay slightly turned toward him, one arm holding Johnny to himself as he slept. I felt emotion rise in me. Johnny's sweet nature, having melted Joon's cold heart, had gradually been wearing down Byron's emotionless facade too. I hoped some day those two damaged boys would both understand how much the little Korean kid had done for them. ****************************** The cafeteria was packed the next morning early, and the hubbub of morning conversation was louder and more boisterous than usual. "For some reason nobody's sleeping in this morning!" Marco had commented, surveying the room with a smile. "Looks like every guest on the island's here." "Nobody got any last night, that's why," Evan observed, slurping his coffee. "Damn this is hot!" "What do you mean?" I asked. "I mean I just burned my damn mouth!" "He means all the boys were resting up for the big day today," Marco explained. "None of the guests were allowed to have any boys last night. So these guys are all ready to go!" "Doesn't a sex-free night cost Young Lovers?" "Pssht," scoffed Evan. "We'll make one night's income back in the first two hours and then some. You won't believe how much these guys will bet." "And I guess having them all a little frustrated doesn't hurt!" I laughed. "Marco thinks of everything," Evan observed, allowing a little admiration to creep into his usually sardonic tone of voice. "So how does the betting work, anyway?" I asked. "Before every round of each event the competitors are introduced and guests are invited to place their wagers. Several staff members will be circulating through the crowd collecting bets. There's a certain window of time to bet, as the guests size up the boys and decide who they think might win." "Or who they want to fuck the most," added Evan. "Then the wagering closes and the competition begins. Once each race or match is over money that's won and lost gets tallied and charged or credited to each guy's bill." "Sound like a paperwork headache." "Not really. We have an app that's pretty quick and easy to use. While this is going on the boy who wins each event is free to do whatever he wants to the loser. Sometimes they're too tired to do anything -- other times the winner screws the loser right there, in front of everybody. Or fucks his face. It's actually pretty hot. Then, when he's done whatever he wants to do, we announce to the crowd the name of the guest who bet the most on him. There's usually a big cheer. And the boy will go to that guy's cabin tonight, or, if the guest wants, he can take the boy to his place right then. A lot of times a naked, sweaty boy, all adrenalized from competing and fucking, is just irresistible." "Sounds pretty irresistible to me!" I grinned. "If it's got a cock it's irresistible to you," Evan commented. "I beg your pardon!" I retorted with mock seriousness. "I have my standards!" "I've seen your standards. A kid's got be at least eleven and, uh . . . that's it. Very discriminating." ****************************** Olympics week went by like a whirlwind. There was so much activity, so much luscious flesh to admire, so much competitive emotion it would be impossible to capture it to make a story out of it. So many scenes of naked athletic beauty, of mouthwatering little muscles and sweat-shiny bodies, hard-won victories and grieved losses. And so much sex, as the victors in each event were allowed to use the bodies of their often-exhausted victims however they chose, before they were sent off to be used in turn by the guests who had bid the most for the pleasure. Only once the games were over, the overhyped guests had left, and life on the island had returned to what passes for normal there was I able to even start recalling some things, popping into my mind. Intensely vivid snapshots of a week unlike any other I have ever experienced. The place was crawling with guests that week -- they were everywhere. Boisterous Germans, grinning and sweating in the tropical heat. Knots of Koreans and Japanese, scurrying about lugging their camera gear. Overweight American retirees in ridiculously loud Hawaiian shirts. Evan had once told me that on a typical day the resort was half to two-thirds full -- if that was the case then during Olympics Week every guest bed must have been taken. Of course many of the scenes I remembered most involved the boys that I had gotten to know, had had sex with, felt an emotional connection with. There was little Ace, long ponytail flying, dodging and dancing away from a slower opponent on the wrestling mat, then writhing and twisting to escape a headlock, then finally, panting, raising his arm in triumph before proceeding to ram his hard little cock into his kneeling opponent, brows furrowed in concentration as the cheering crowd egged the victor on. There was Nilai, his long brown body knifing through the air as he dove into the pool along with a row of other naked boys as the starting gun sounded. Although Nilai had finished second behind a tall white kid I didn't know, the kid couldn't hold a candle to Nilai in terms of beauty. I noticed that there was a flush of pride in Nilai's cheek despite his brown skin as the highest bidder good-naturedly pleaded with Marco to let him take Nilai home with him that night instead of the boy who had won. I also couldn't shake the memory of a boy I didn't even know, a beautiful little Latin kid with a buzz cut, maybe 13 or 14, his face red with exertion, running at full speed, his big dick wagging, eyes searching above him for the volleyball, then diving to the sand, managing to whack the ball back toward the net at the same moment. Then there was Ronny, his legs flexing, his little ass dimpling, a big smile on his face, as he smoothly and gently fucked his cock down the throat of the boy kneeling before him, one of three whom he and his teammates had just beaten at basketball. I remember Byron, his ebony body glistening with sweat in the sun, being led away from the track competition by a rather rotund Frenchman who had won his services for the night. I remembered also noticing with amusement and admiration how, though smiling thinly, Byron had not allowed the man to grip him by the arm as one would in leading a conquest, but instead, head held high, walked slightly ahead of the stubby man, who struggled to keep up with the black boy's long strides. And of course, one picture of beautiful, sexy Jack was burned into my brain. He stood, legs slightly apart, knees bent, flailing away like a madman at his massive pink cock, his little abs clenching, his hips fucking the air, his teeth gritted, eyes wide, staring, as if desperate for relief, apparently oblivious to the dozens of shouting, laughing spectators crowded around. Then suddenly, as he gave a yell, his hips snapped and sent a steaming load of cum flying, flying far ahead of him onto the pavement, and then with another snap another gob flew even father, and as he yelled again and again more cum flew forward, and then still more, to cries of excitement and disbelief from the crowd. I remember also how he smiled up at the man who lead him away a few minutes later, arm around his waist, the winner of the competition. I felt a sharp twinge of jealousy as I realized it was the same exuberant smile he used to smile at me. But of course who I was most interested in, even more than a hundred other naked boys, was Johnny and Joon. From an athletic standpoint Johnny's Olympic wrestling debut was a bit anticlimactic. It was as he and Byron had predicted. Johnny simply overwhelmed all his opponents. His style was to just attack like a fireball of energy, overcoming his opponent as much with his aggressiveness as his strength. He did show a couple of nice little moves, no doubt taught him by Byron, but really he didn't need them. He pinned his first opponent in less than thirty seconds and took only a little over a round to pin the second as well. His final match was a bit more of a contest, but Johnny easily won on points. As John, the referee, raised Johnny's arm high his face beamed as brightly as I had ever seen it. He sought me out with his eyes and we exchanged a grinning thumbs up. Then he began scanning the room intently and I knew he was looking for Joon. For a moment, as I watched the boy's hopeful little face search in vain, I felt fury begin rising in me at the thought that Joon in his selfishness had not bothered to even show up to watch his little lover compete in something that was so important to him. But then I saw my boy on the far side of the gym standing with Byron just as Johnny found him. He gave Johnny a brief nod of approval, which was about as effusive as Joon normally got. Byron smiled and raised a clenched a fist in a gesture of triumph. I wondered what Johnny would do now. Would he fuck his defeated opponent, as he had the right to do under the rules? Maybe push the wiry little black kid down and screw him hard? Would he jam his big cock down the kid's throat? I watched him as he turned toward his defeated opponent with his beaming smile intact. He paused only a second, then pulled the boy to him in a big hug and then plastered his lips against the startled kid's mouth. Johnny held the kiss for a long time as the crowd roared its approval. Finally he pulled back, still beaming, then grabbed the hapless kid's hand, shook it vigorously, and turned to the spectators and, his arms raised triumph, soaked in their continued shouts of approval. After a minute or so of waiting Will, the staff member who was the master of ceremonies for the week, quieted the crowd. "Ok, ladies and ladies, if I could have your attention please!" he announced through a bullhorn. "Thank you! So who's the high man this time?" He paused for effect. "Let's see here . . ." he said, pretending to consult his tablet, drawing out the suspense. "OK, here it is. The high bidder for this delicious little champion is . . . Billy White! Billy, where . . ." A shriek came from the back of the room, and a young looking guy with fashionably braided hair and expensive beachwear ran forward trough the crowd, hooting, "Oh my god, I won him, I won him!" This character was sort of silly but you had to feel glad for the guy, who was obviously in seventh heaven. He half-skidded to a stop and fell to his knees right in front of Johnny, shrieked a bit more, hands raised to the sky in thanksgiving, and then proceeded to shove his face into Johnny's crotch. Most boys would have been startled by that, and I shuddered to think how Joon would have reacted, but Johnny didn't miss a beat. Still beaming his joyful grin he grabbed the man's head with both hands, hunched his hips into his face and yelled "YEAH!!!!" at the top of his lungs. "OK, Billy," Will shouted as the crowd roared with laughter, "we're glad you're happy with Johnny, but we, uh, have other matches to get to." He patted the man's shoulder. "Why don't you and your little champion celebrate his victory somewhere more, uh, private?!" "Oh my god, right now!? You mean I get him right now? I don't have to wait? Ohmigod!" The man fanned himself, playing to the crowd for all he was worth. With that Johnny and his new guest left the mat, each with his arm around the other, the man stage-whispering lewd remarks for all to hear and Johnny seeming to lap up all the attention. *********************** By coincidence both Johnny and Joon had their big competitions on the first day of the festivities, and later on that afternoon it was Joon's turn. I had of course seen video of Joon sparring several times, but as it happened I had never seen him fight in person -- other than his informal little skirmish with Lawrence, that is. I was fascinated wondering how he would handle himself. I didn't really know much about the rules -- I just knew the match would consist of the best of five falls and you weren't allowed to do bodily harm. My eyes were glued to Joon as he stripped off his white dobok and calmly strode naked to the center of the mat to meet his first opponent. It was Jack's friend Rondol. I had never seen Rondol naked, and felt a lurch in my belly as I admired his beautiful creamy body and his perfect four inch cock dangling from a small nest of golden hair. I saw the boy's limpid blue eyes, breathtaking even at twenty yards away, drop to the menacing scorpion clasping Joon's abdomen. You could almost see him swallow with nervousness. The competitors' names were announced, and they faced the audience and bowed. Then they bowed to each other and to the fellow who was officiating, an older Asian man I didn't recall ever seeing before. I was later to learn that he was the martial arts instructor on the island, and the only teacher Joon ever indicated much respect for. The competitors then remained standing side by side as the audience appraised them and those who were interested noisily called out their bids to the staff members nearby. I wondered how many of them were bidding on Joon. It was actually a bit complicated, I reflected. On the one hand, you naturally would want to bet on the boy you found more attractive. On the other hand, if that boy lost, you'd get nothing, so maybe it made more sense to bid for the boy who looked like he might be a better fighter, even if you didn't think he was that hot. In this case Rondol was certainly the more beautiful boy, by anyone's standards. And though he was slim he wasn't as skinny as Joon. But perhaps the fact that Joon was Asian would cause some bettors to assume he was more skilled in Taekwando, which was after all an Asian art. And in spite of his nakedness and his less-than-impressive physique, Joon had a vibe about him that just felt intimidating. And then there was that scorpion. Finally after a couple of minutes a staff member gave a signal, the official made an abrupt gesture, and the boys retreated to opposite sides of the mat and bowed to each other again. The room grew still. Then the man gestured again and the match began. Rondol approached slowly, in a little crouch. Joon stood impassively, waiting. Rondol slowly drew closer. Joon was as still as stone, his face a blank mask. There was split second of absolute motionlessness. Then Rondol made his move. Or started to. Faster than a blink, it seemed, Joon sidestepped the boy's strike, pulled Rondol's shoulder toward him using his momentum against him, and, as the blond boy lurched forward, struck him across the collarbones with his forearm, knocking him sideways. Rondol's feet flew out from under him and he crumpled to the mat. The referee yelled something and Joon backed away, apparently having won a point. Rondol got to his feet. Doubt and determination seems to chase each other over his face as he drew a breath and prepared to face Joon again. The two bowed to each other again. This time Rondol apparently had decided to let Joon be the aggressor. But Joon remained impassively still. After many seconds of complete inaction the man yelled something to them. Was this a threat? Would there be a draw if neither boy initiated any action? Rondol's stubborn little chin was firm. He seemed to have decided he would not be taken in by Joon's counterattacking skill. His fortitude was rewarded as Joon, who could play at being patient but who I knew to actually be a preternaturally impatient person, finally made a disgusted noise and advanced on Rondol. The blond boy's crouch stiffened. Joon circled him, looking for an opening. Then he made a sudden lunge forward, a feint, and as Rondol jerked backward reflexively Joon lunged forward again, shot an arm out, hooked Rondol under his shoulder with the crook of his arm, dropped to a knee, snapped his body around, and threw the slightly bigger boy six feet across the mat, sprawling onto his back. The official called another point for Joon, who stepped backward to the edge of the mat and waited. The third and final point was decided more quickly. Rondol got to his feet, looking quite shaken now. Joon waited only for the formal bow, then immediately raced across the mat, launched himself into the air with a cry, and drove his foot squarely into Rondol's breastbone. The boys both hit the mat, but Rondol lay in a heap while Joon popped up immediately and stood over him, for the first time breathing a bit hard, his face flushed. The official gave a cry, stepped forward and raised Joon's hand. The crowd burst into cheering and applause at Joon's impressive victory. Rondol got slowly to his knees in front of Joon then, raised his hands to grip Joon's hips, and, still kneeling, looked up, almost in supplication. He knew Joon had the right now to demand that he suck him, and he was signaling his readiness to comply. Joon looked down at him a moment. Others might not have noticed Joon's cock but, knowing it as well as I did, I saw that it was swelling and rising a bit. Now that the competition was over his victory was getting him hard, as anything that felt like dominance always did. Then Joon surprised me, and probably everyone else in the gym too. He reached down a hand. Rondol took it, and Joon tugged him upward into a standing position. One more meaningful glance from Joon, and then he turned away and left the mat. At first I thought maybe he had had a moment of pity for Rondol -- perhaps he had even been touched by those beautiful blue eyes. But no, I then realized. He was saving his orgasm for his last opponent, the new kid. His final test lay ahead. *********************************** I didn't have long to wait to check out this highly touted newcomer. Joon had just grabbed up his dobok and headed for the door when a creature burst into the gym with an animal-like shriek, caught sight of Joon, and, rising up onto his toes, shrieked again, clawing the air at Joon in a menacing gesture. Wild hair in several bright colors -- red, green, purple -- swirled around his head as he bobbed it weirdly at Joon, glaring at him all the while. He wore a rainbow colored sweatshirt but was otherwise completely naked. His tensing brown thighs and his clenched ass were breathtaking. I got just a glimpse of a long thin cock. Joon stood still, eying the wild boy with a mixture of disbelief and contempt. As the boy moved into the room Joon passed him by, heading toward the door and glaring at him all the while. The boy shrieked again, clawed the air, and then turned, bent over, gripped his asscheeks with both hands and exposed his asshole to Joon. When he stood up again and turned to Joon he was gone. The kid laughed a maniacal laugh and ran onto the mat. Where in the world did Young Lovers find this character? Shouts and laughter from the crowd seemed to only egg the kid on. He whipped off his sweatshirt and began a series of elaborate stretches as if he were warming up, but he mainly seemed to be showing off his body. And his body was indeed worth showing off. His torso was a tawny golden brown, his very defined pectorals, his washboard abs, his curving biceps simply perfect. Looking more closely I saw that he had a nipple pierced with a golden ring and gold glinted in his earlobe as well. A moment later, as he whirled and posed for the benefit of those on my side of the gym, I saw with a shock that the head of his cock was pierced as well. The kid looked about sixteen, maybe seventeen -- how had an underage kid gotten a Prince Albert? Finally, to compete the picture, I noticed a tattoo on his upper back, exposed from time to time as he whipped his colorful, extra-long locks about. I recognized the glyph -- an "M" with an arrow-shaped tail, which I seemed to recall was the Scorpio symbol. The same astrological sign as Joon's. I chuckled to myself at the coincidence. The boy had now begun to perform a series of spins, kicks and thrusts at an imaginary opponent, and the combination of speed and power he exhibited was very impressive indeed. He was maybe two or three inches taller than Joon and probably would outweigh him by 30 pounds. In spite of how easily Joon had dispatched Rondol I began to wonder if he had a chance against this crazy boy. At the moment, however, another boy was to face off against this guy, and I wondered who the opponent would be. In a moment I got my answer as a powerfully built kid eased his way through a knot of spectators on the other side of the gym. He was a boy named Troy, an Australian kid I'd never met but had often seen around and had heard a bit about. He was supposedly one of the best athletes on the island. He was a likely opponent of Byron's later on that afternoon as the wrestling competition continued with the bigger boys. Troy quickly stripped off his dobok and tossed it to a kid who had come in with him. Muscles on muscles on muscles! His body was the most worked out of anyone's I'd seen on the island with the exception of Parker's. He was a bit shorter and thicker than I usually found ideal, but, as I admired his long, thick, swaying cock I reflected that I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed. Plus he had a big, enthusiastic grin, something that I always find attractive in a boy. I reflected that whenever I'd seen Troy around the island he always seemed to have that same grin. The two boys met at the center of the mat. Troy turned and faced the crowd, as Joon and Rondol had done before their match, but the new kid stared at Troy instead, making gruesome faces at him. Catcalls and wisecracks a mile a minute came from the audience. Troy smiled his way through it all. The boys were introduced and I learned the new boy went by the name of "Crush." Of course. No way a kid who worked as hard on his image as he obviously did would be "Steven" or "Jason." Or, if Joon's estimate of his ethnicity was correct, "Jose" or "Masato." I leaned forward to see the kid's face better, and yes, there was something vaguely Asian in the angle of his almond eyes and his high cheekbones, while the tawny skin could have come from Latin blood. Crush. The Asian fellow who was acting as match official barked something disapproving at the boy. Crush turned and bowed to the audience, but not before making a face at the official. The boys then bowed to each other in a very perfunctory manner. Behind Troy's grin there was something else -- I got the feeling that there was no love lost between these two. Something in me hoped that Troy would be able to teach this disrespectful asshole a lesson. He certainly looked like he was equipped to do some damage. Crush's muscles were beautiful, but Troy's thick biceps and chest looked positively dangerous. Several tense minutes went by as the boys glared at each other from opposite sides of the mat, Troy somehow still smiling, Crush grimacing and gesturing rudely. Then the betting window closed. A signal from the referee began the match. Alas, as quickly as Joon's match with Rondol had ended, this one was over even faster. I immediately saw that Joon's contemptuous dismissal of Crush was totally wrong. What had he said? "He's got no game." This kid might have had flash and dash, but once the match started he was all business, and Troy simply didn't have a chance. Though he was powerfully built he had little agility or technique, and Crush made short work of him. The long-haired dervish was a constant blur of spins and kicks, and though Troy made a valiant effort he was flipped or kicked to the ground three times in less than thirty seconds. After the third fall Crush leaped into the air and then, totally disregarding the respectful formality of the bow to his opponent, rushed up to the crowd of men, some of whose tongues were practically hanging out, and began jabbering. "YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! NOBODY stops me, NOBODY stops Crush!" He danced and pranced, leered and gesticulated. "You all WANT me, yeah, you want me, you want this COCK, don't you, bitches?" He then began caressing his body with both hands and writhing like a wild beast, stroking his chest, his arms, his abs, his ass, his cock. "Oh yeah, we gonna do some fucking, some real fucking. You ain't never been fucked til Crush fucks you!" Then he whipped around, bent over and peeled his butt cheeks open. "You want this ass too, bitches?" he shrieked. "Yeah, you want it?" The boy jerked upright and began dancing and prancing a foot or two in front of the men, and when the guys in front began reaching out toward him he slapped hands with them, accepting their high fives, yelling "YEAH!" "YEAH!" "YEAH!" with each slap. Then he suddenly rushed back to the middle of the mat where Troy stood. "On your knees bitch!!" Crush yelled. He stuck his face inches from Troy's and screamed at him. "YEAH BITCH, you gonna suck a MAN'S cock now! You gonna kneel and WORSHIP me, bitch!" For once Troy's smile deserted him, and he turned and began walking off the mat. Before he got very for he was intercepted by Will, who emerged from the crowd and stopped him. "No, no, come on now man, you know the rules!" Troy's face scrunched in frustration. "Yeah, he's bein' an asshole, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Get back over there!" He pointed firmly to where Crush stood, dancing a little dance, shoving one fist and then the other into the air as he continued to celebrate. As Troy reluctantly returned to the center of the mat Crush began to luxuriantly masturbate, leering wildly, first at Troy, then the crowd, then back to Troy, and his cock quickly began hardening. The excited noise of the crowd increased. After a hesitant second Troy dropped to his knees. For a moment Crush ignored him, and with his eyes closed and a leering smile on his face he jacked himself off faster, the head and the first two inches of his shaft popping rapidly in and out of his fist. "Do it!" "Fuck him!" "Suck it sweetheart!" Cries rang out from the assembled guests. Then Crush stepped closer to Troy, grabbed him behind the head with one hand and his cock with the other and shoved it against his face. "SUCK IT! SUCK IT BITCH! OH YEAH!!" the boy bellowed. Drawing a deep breath, as one does who has come to a decision, Troy pressed his lips to Crush's big cock and then surged forward, gobbling up half of it. Immediately Crush spread his legs wider, clasped both hands behind Troy's head, and, head thrown back in ecstasy, began violently ramming his cock in and out of Troy's mouth. That had to be super uncomfortable, and Troy, apparently now accepting the situation, steadied himself by gripping Crush's wildly pounding ass and worked his head into a better position for deep-throating the crazy boy. I wondered how Crush's penis piercing was affecting Troy. I myself had never blown a guy with a Prince Albert. The boy pounded Troy with unflagging energy, minute after minute, his honey brown ass gripping and relaxing as he surged up onto his toes time and again. Sweat began tricking down his beautiful belly and over his ribs. And I had to give Troy credit -- he seemed to be doing the best he could to blow the kid considering how roughly he was being manhandled. A few men in the rowdy crowd began to chant "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" then, and soon the whole room had taken up the chant. Louder and louder the chant rang out, and in response Crush moved more and more wildly, gripping Troy's hair in his fists now, drawing his cock out more completely and then ramming himself down the boy's throat more and more violently. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted, hair swinging wildly, he was obviously lost in the pleasure and passion of the moment. Suddenly Troy violently choked and Crush's 8 inch cock slipped out of his mouth and waved in the air. Furious, Crush screamed, "Get down farther, bitch! Time to get fucked!" "YEAH!!!" the crowd roared in excitement. Still gasping and trying to recover, Troy dropped to his hands and knees. Crush was behind him in an instant, fisting his raging erection and nosing it between Troy's cheeks. The muscular boy dropped his forehead to the mat, reached back and spreads his own cheeks. Crush gripped the back of Troy's neck hard with one hand and began shoving. There was no tentativeness, no careful probing, no repositioning. It was almost as if Crush was going to force Troy open whether his cockhead had found his asshole or not. Fortunately for Troy Crush's rod had found its target, and though Troy grimaced and yelled, Crush started sliding his hot cock home. Gritting his teeth, his eyes wide, the boy arched backward like a bow, his ass flattening, as the last few inches forced their way into the other boy's bowels. "YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH" Crush gave a great gasp of satisfaction and the crowd gave a roar of approval in response. The boy then gripped Troy's hips hard and, biceps bulging, slowly pulled his erection free almost completely. Then, with more presence and self-control that I'd have thought he had he paused and turned to the onlookers. He raised his hands and shrugged, as if to ask, "So what do I do now?" The place erupted in laughter and shouting, the men enthralled with the boy's performance. "FUCK HIM! FUCK HIM HARD!" came the cries. Nodding forcefully and with a great leering grin Crush repositioned his weight, and then, gripping Troy's hipbones, actually pulled Troy's knees up off the mat a couple inches and then slammed into him so hard the other boy's face smashed into the mat. Puffing and frowning now, Crush began fucking Troy in earnest. He started with slow, deep thrusts, then gradually built up speed until, after a couple of minutes, he was whipping his cock in and out of his helpless victim like lightning. I couldn't believe how hot the scene had become. My erection was painful in my shorts. Both boys' bodies were now drenched as if they had come from a shower, and slapping and sucking sounds now accompanied their fucking. I couldn't believe the stamina that Crush seemed to have, as he just went on and on with unflagging energy. By now Troy was limp and motionless, like a big beefy rag doll totally at the other boy's mercy. And still Crush fucked on and on. At first I had thought Crush was just a self-centered, slightly ridiculous, posturing adolescent. But now I could see he was something more -- a lot more. He was almost a force of nature, a boy, in his own way, overwhelmed and inspired by passion, taking sexual ecstasy to a level most people could never imagine. Eyes squeezed shut, body thrashing both in control and out of control, his face working with emotion, I could see he was now oblivious to his environment. The crowd seemed forgotten. It seemed as if he were alone, soaring with indescribable pleasure, riding his fiery cock. And then, finally, after many minutes, his climax hit. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! he screamed, as he hit still a higher gear, an impossibly fast speed, his hips almost a blur. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The crowd roared its approval as the wild boy's orgasm roared on and on. "YYYYYYAAAH!" came the final cry. With that Crush suddenly collapsed, sliding out of Troy and flopping onto the mat in utter exhaustion. Troy collapsed down onto his belly as well, and the two boys lay motionless as the crowd continued to cheer and cry out. Aroused and dazzled by an exhibition of sexual passion, of utter abandon, greater than most of them would ever know. I was left stunned and overwhelmed, and not just with sexual desire. I knew I had just seen something unlike anything I'd ever witnessed before. For some reason my thoughts turned to Joon. Joon, who would soon be facing off against this demon-boy. Joon, so calmly confident. So apparently unaware of what he was up against. For the very first time since Joon had walked into my life I pitied him.