Date: Wed, 18 Mar 2009 17:28:49 -0000
From: Anthony <Ant-boy@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Ogedei's Boy - 8

Ogedei's Boy -- Chapter Eight -- Ant-Boy@hotmail.co.uk

The half-hour it took for the bus to leave town and drive
out to the village I was now to discover Andrew lived in was
an ongoing agony of expectation.  Every so often Paul would
brush his hand against my bare leg, a couple of times across
my straining crotch and I finally got up the nerve to repay
the compliment as well as I could through his track bottoms,
brushing my hand along the side of his leg where it lay
close to mine.  I started to smell the heat rising from his
body, not sweaty, just warm with a light musk that was
somehow familiar.  I dare not do more apart from sliding my
body along the seat closer to his but when he placed his
hand as if to slide under my buttocks I lifted slightly to
allow access then lowered my body back down to feel his
fingers flex against them.
`Have you ever?' he asked in a low voice as he flexed his
fingers again.  He didn't look at me and anyone would have
thought we were just discussing the weather or some other
normal schoolboy topic.
`Not yet,' somehow I knew to what he was referring. He made
to pull his hand away but I pressed down against it again.
`I want it to happen.'
`Are you sure?'
`Yes.'  What else was there to say?
By the time we stood up to get off the bus I was ready to
explode, these were not suitable clothes to wear in public
if I were to continue to get erections as hard and strong as
the one attempting to escape from my shorts.  I held my
rucksack in front of my groin to hide what had now become an
obvious excitement.  As I stood beside the road waiting to
see in which direction we would turn I was actually bouncing
up and down on the balls of my feet with the need to do
something, to do anything,  just as long as the something
gave me relief.
It was actually quite warm; we were in the midst of an
Indian summer and as Paul turned left, out of the village
and started down a slightly muddy track I took the
opportunity to remove my track top and hang it over the
straps of my bag.
`And your shirt,' was Pauls comment when he saw my action.
Then, when I was slow to comply he added, `Only Andrew lives
down this lane and he's on his own for the weekend.'
So I removed my shirt and hung that also over my bag, then
handed the bag over to him when he gestured for it.  There
was something so exhilarating about the feeling of warm sun
and light breeze against my near naked body, it was more
than sexual, and something I couldn't explain.  I'd always
got a buzz from the feel of nature brushing against me,
especially on cross country running or athletics when I
often removed my top and screwed it up in my hands,
something I only then acknowledged almost nobody else did.
No wonder I'd been called eccentric more than once.  But
today was a whole different experience to that.  In addition
I had the knowledge Paul was looking at my body with sex of
some type on his mind as no doubt was Andrew while he waited
for us.  It had me wanting to rip all my clothes off, and
Pauls, as we entered the drive to fair sized three story
house with a double garage.  That was all I had time to see
before Paul slapped me lightly across the shoulders.
`You're getting too hyper,' he said.  `Run down the lane to
the road and back, then come straight round the back.  We'll
be by the pool, and don't dare shoot off on the way.'
The habit of obeying a senior cut in automatically and I was
halfway back down the track before I started to curse him.
Then I had the experience of a bemused audience of villagers
waiting at the bus stop who were obviously unused to the
sight of a half naked mud splashed boy appearing before them
who just waved before turning round and running back from
whence he'd come. That off the cuff wave was, in retrospect,
the first time I showed sign of the exhibitionist I had
become when I first met Ogedei.
By the time I slowed down and jogged round to the back of
Andrew's house I realised Paul had been right as my erection
had diminished to a semi erect throbbing whilst my cerebral
excitement though it seemed had increased twofold felt more
manageable. Andrew was standing by a gate built into a high
brick wall I was to discover ran all round the rear garden
making that, and the fair sized swimming pool, quite
secluded and private.  He was wearing a short sleeved khaki
shirt and matching shorts accompanied by a large grin.
`You up for some fun then?'
`Hopefully,' I sheepishly replied looking down to my feet.
`I'll need a shower first though.'  That lane had been
muddy.  Not only were my shoes and legs liberally spattered
I had felt my back getting equally adorned on the return
journey.  `Also a toilet,' I added as the sound of running
water came to my ears and my bladder decided it would soon
be time to emulate the sound.
`No problem,' was his response but he led me over to a
wooden table backed up against the wall a few feet from the
swimming pool.  `Paul will be out in a moment, have a drink
while we wait.  Do you like beer?'  He handed me a large
opened bottle.
I looked at him from the corner of my eyes while taking my
first slug to see him remove his shirt.  Actually he had
quite a good body.  His hair was actually fairer than my own
and his body only showing a sprinkling of golden fuzz at the
chest with a glimpse of darker just peeping above his
waistband.  He seemed equally as well built and muscled as
Paul which made sense as they were both played rugger and
ran for the house, as in fact I did.  Even his groin showed
a substantial bulge in his khaki shorts which he then
unbuttoned and allowed to slide down his lightly haired legs
leaving his body as exposed as mine the only difference
being his shorts were black, thinner, shorter and tighter
being the nylon running version cut almost up to the waist.
He caught me looking and grinned again telling me to `drink
up' just as Paul came running from the house on the opposite
side of the pool and dived straight in to power his was
across and half pull, half fling himself out before us.  I
gasped, he was beautiful!  All he wore was a white bulging
jockstrap standing out almost glaringly against his dark
skin and somehow the sight made him seem even more virile,
more animal, more what I wanted so desperately.  Seeing them
together like this I took note there was little real
difference in their builds but Paul somehow seemed larger,
almost larger than life.  There was an air of mystique about
him that held no fear for me, just a wish, a need, to
explore it further.  His dark body gleamed in the sunshine
dripping with power as much as it dripped with water.  The
high walls protected us from the light breeze I'd felt
earlier and I was strangely comfortable both in my body and
in whatever might be about to unfold.  Apart from my
pressured bladder that was, I'd even gone and drunk the
bottle of beer without noticing, too busy looking at the
bodies on display before me.
`Hope you didn't intend to start without me,' Paul started
the conversation.
`No,' I stepped forward, I wanted to touch him, `But if I
don't find a toilet soon these shorts will be soaked in more
than you've bargained for.'
As I moved Andrew fell in behind me and his hands griped my
waist, then slid up to my chest and fingered my nipples. I
never knew they were so sensitive and half fell back against
him in shock and delight at the feeling.  Paul moved closer,
looking directly into my eyes.
`Do you like that then?'
I nodded.
`And this?' he reached down and griped my balls quite
tightly causing my body to twist and pull against Andrews
fingers pinching at my nipples.
I nodded again, doing my best just to stare straight back
into his dark eyes.  I seemed anyway quite unable to speak.
`These are the rules then,' Paul continued. `You will do
everything we tell you for the next couple of hours.  If
there is something you don't want to do just say so and
we'll stop but there won't be a second chance so be sure
first.'  All this time he'd been running his hands up and
down my body from crotch to head while Andrew had been half
holding me and half pinching at my nipples.
Even though every touch was like fire on my skin the
pressure on my bladder was changing from uncomfortable to
painful and I told him, `I really need to have a piss, like
right now.'
The result was to be handed another bottle of beer.  `Drink
this then,' and when I held back a stronger grip on my
balls, `Remember.  You have to do what we tell you.'
`But I'll have to wet myself if you don't let me go.'
`Then Andrew will have to punish you won't he,' was Paul's
quick rejoinder from a grinning face and the feeling of
Andrews fingers pinching harder at my nipples.
My answer was to quickly swallow down about half the bottle,
as much as I could in one go, then, before I lost my nerve,
to slowly stretch my own hands out and finally touch Pauls
body with my fingers.
Aaahhhh!
At that first contact I unconsciously jerked my hands back
before they got burnt, his body, though still dripping with
water felt as if on fire.  Oh was that me?  The charge that
shot through my body was like nothing I'd felt before.  This
was somehow different to those initial fumblings I'd
experienced so short a time ago during my holidays. Almost
as quickly I replaced my fingers over his nipples then
slowly opened my hands to cover his pecs, to slide my hands
round to his back and dared to pull his body closer to mine
where I found my lips somehow connected to the skin around
his nipple, first one and then with a slight movement, the
other.
I was almost unaware of his hands on my head guiding me or
Andrews' hands roaming over my body, griping and pinching
and supporting.  My hands slid down Paul's back to the bare
orbs of his firm arse cheeks of their own violation and I
squeezed, just wanting his body closer to mine, consuming
mine.
`Hold on a minute,' he pulled back slightly, `I'm not into
that.'
Somehow I knew just what he meant without need for
explanation. `Good.'
`What do you want then?' Andrew's voice sounded in my left
ear, `what can we do with you?'
I was too busy to answer.  My mouth had somehow found its
way back to Paul's chest where either my teeth were nibbling
at his nipple or my tongue was licking the rapidly
evaporating water from his body.
That was when I felt one of the hands from behind that had
previously been examining and exploring my body, sliding
under the waistband of my shorts and sticky jockstrap to
allow my cock and balls a little freedom, while the other
was pressing upwards between my legs.  I'd half forgotten
the pressure on my bladder which as a result of those
ministrations now became an overflowing one as I was quite
unable to stop the stream that jetted forth rapidly soaking
my shorts and jock, also the  hands that had caused the flow
to start and was now streaming down my legs.
I tried to twist my body away but Andrews hand closed
tightly round the end of my cock, pinching it painfully
closed while the other removed from between my legs clasped
tightly round my waist.  Paul, meanwhile, pressed his groin
tightly against mine, his jock rapidly soaking up some of
the excess flowing from the front of my shorts even as I
finally managed to squeeze my buttocks tightly and slowly
cut the flow.
`Where do you think you're going then?' he asked.
Even if my bowed head had not been trapped between their
near naked bodies I could think of little to say in my
defence except a mumbled, `Sorry.'
Paul pulled away slightly still holding my head, and then
raised it to look me straight in the face.
`Sorry won't cut it will it?  You'll have to be punished for
that.'  Then a smile spread from one side to the other and
his teeth shone with a startling whiteness against his dark
skin as he continued, `Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it
anyway.'
Andrew had now released his grip and after pushing me
slightly forward was in fact using his hands to run up my
legs, over my still dripping shorts, then continuing over my
chest and shoulders transferring the resulting collection to
the rest of my body.
`And you are still enjoying it aren't you?'  He didn't wait
for an answer but used one hand himself to grip my cock and
balls through the front of my shorts then raised it to my
face, `Clean it.'
I will admit to some little experience of what I was later
discovered was called watersports, on my own prior to this
occasion, but never with others or to such an extent.  I
loved the discomfort of a full bladder, allowing some
release soaking my privates in the process, then cutting the
flow to feel the pressure painfully impose itself once
again, but this was altogether another ballgame.
The knowledge I was not the only person to enjoy such gross
pleasures had no time to even flit across my mind right then
as Paul's hand was waiting a mere fraction in front of my
face and without any hesitation I'd reached up and grabbed
it toward my open lips and ready, willing tongue.  I've no
idea how to describe that first taste, that mixture of
maleness and slightly acrid waste water, just the fact
something clicked and sooner than I would have ever expected
to raise the nerve I was busy sucking on his fingers, first
one hand and then the other as he refreshed them by
squeezing the hem of my cotton shorts.
For the rest of my life I never did get off on strong acid
piss, but having my body abused by the weaker version that
came after an evening's drinking or being forced to wet
myself always did something inside my head as it did that
sunny afternoon that could be said to help lower any other
inhibitions I might have.  I'd hardly noticed that we, as a
group, had moved slightly along the wall, also turned round
and it was Paul who now had his back against a wood slatted
table that rested against the wall.
`Andrew wants to smack your bare arse,' he told me'  `Are
you up for that?'
`Whatever you want' I half gasped, `as long as you hold me
please.'
His fingers and hands were clean now and I wanted to attack
the rest of his body.  I was almost shivering, half in
trepidation and half in anticipation of what might be
happening but there was no way I had any intention of
backing out if I could avoid it.  There seemed almost no
need for talk or explanation, Paul sat back on the table, I
laid my head between his thighs and as I stretched my hands
behind his back he raised his legs to lower them over my
shoulder and with his hands held either side of my head.
Right before my eyes between the solid naked black thighs of
my wanking fantasy wearing just an white sweat and piss
stained jockstrap, the fresh strong smell of hot musk as his
body had been warming up and old piss drips, his own and the
addition from my own earlier gusher, were so much better
than the stale version I'd got used to from his old jock..
Behind me, his hands' rubbing in circles over my pert
backside clad in still wet cotton shorts and up and down my
legs was Andrew, his second.  I knew my backside was pert,
he'd told me so a few moments ago, just as his hands managed
to find their way under the front edge of my running shorts
to feel the cum soaked jock I wore underneath and squeeze my
cock again.
`Are you sure this is what you want?'  Paul asked, `We can
stop right now if this is too much.'
`No, don't stop, I want it all, what you promised me.  Go
on.' I almost moaned in my reply.
That was no way to speak to the senior house prefect, even
if he had invited me to stay for the weekend, even if I was
wearing an old jock strap of his, too small for either of us
and still damp from an earlier wank, but I just wanted them
to stop teasing me and get on with what I'd was hoping for
while I was still prepared for it.
The hands massaging my arse cheeks moved to the waistband of
my shorts and slowly pulled and slid them down over my
cheeks, down my legs and free from my bare feet as I lifted
each one.  His fingers traced gently over my exposed arse
making my body quiver in anticipation.  This was what I
dreamed about, in fact more than I'd ever dared dream.  My
backside had been exposed to most of the school at one time
or another, in the changing room, in the showers, in the
dormitory, but never in an erotic scene like this.  My cock
was trying desperately to grow and harden but trapped inside
a jock far too small to contain it could only quiver and
jerk, as did my legs causing me to wonder for a moment if
I'd collapse before they really got started.
Paul moved his hands to hold my head gently between them,
`You still OK Tony?'
The fingers tracing patterns on my arse cheeks turned into
hands, gripping and flexing, squeezing my cheeks together
and then pulling them apart, exposing my hole to the air.
That virgin, well almost virgin, rosebud nobody apart from
myself had ever looked at so closely.  I'd only seen it
myself lying on my back with my legs in the air and with
help from a mirror and a torch; Andrew could see it clearly
in full sunlight and as his hands moved over my cheeks,
pulling them apart, his fingers brushed over its edges.  Was
he going to do me?  I'd only ever stuck a finger stuck up
there, once a couple of inches on from the end of a broom
handle.  Was I ready for the real thing?
Yes!  I unconsciously wriggled my backside raising a gasp
from Andrew and the comment, `Here it comes then.'
I'd been ready for ages, well at least since I'd discovered
what the staff in Africa could teach me last summer and
returned to school with a new outlook in life then found
myself infatuated with Paul, wanting to touch him, to smell
him and see if his body gave off the same sweet musk as my
Uncles house boys.
I heard Andrew hawk, then spit, on my left cheek, then again
for my right one.  His hand stroked lightly across them,
then, Splat!  Splat!  Splat!  Splat!  I yelped as his hand
fell with some force across one cheek, then the other, and
then repeated the operation.
The force of his slaps forced my head to slide further
forward between Paul's thighs, with some assistance from
myself admittedly, my open mouth now hard against his jock
strap, I could feel the outline of his cock between my
teeth, my nose was saturated with his scent, fresh sweet
sweat, a little piss, but mainly that musk I was starting to
learn all men emitted to one degree or another.  All of them
slightly different, but all containing that basic musky
hormone that had the ability to drive me to extremes.
I don't know when I started to suck against the outline of
that cock but there I was burrowing my face into his crotch,
in as far as possible to smell and taste the previously
forbidden fruit.  This was right, what I was meant to do.  I
just knew that all the warnings against it, the Biology
lessons telling us the right way was for man and women,
anything I'd been told or read condemning such actions would
never have any effect on me again.
Andrew was slapping my arse again and again, first one cheek
and then the other cause my tightly packed package to bounce
against the table edge each time but I had no intention of
shooting too soon and foreshortening what was starting to
appear like my dreams fulfilment. His slaps stung, to be
true not as intensely as his previous effort with a trainer
but here were more of them and apart from occasional pauses
to rub his hand over what I could feel were my heated arse
cheeks, he showed no sign of slowing down.
He was actually starting to hurt me and that triggered my
next move.  Why should I restrict myself to sucking through
a covering of cotton when all I had to do was remove it?  So
I did just that.  Back then I didn't have to ask permission
to do so and I merely raised my head slightly and bringing
my hands back where I could see them, carefully, slowly,
freed Paul's throbbing hot cock and balls from their prison
allowing the elastic to slide back under his pouch and
causing the whole package to thrust forward.
It was beautiful.  I couldn't take my eyes away from it, I
had to worship it, had to be consumed by it.  Right away I
knew exactly what I needed from it but whether that would be
possible was another matter. It seemed huge, at least from
my present position, almost out of proportion to his body.
His ball sac which I still held in one hand felt as if it
weighed a ton and his fully erect cock waving, jerking
around above it was far too big to fit in my mouth where I
wanted it, let alone anywhere else.  Even so, I just had to
try.
As I moved my head back closer I could see the veins running
along the underside throb and pulsate as they forced blood
to the very tip of this wonder.  He was cut like me but
there all similarities ended.  The tight skin enclosing this
marvel was actually slightly darker than the rest of his
body but the head, now fully exposed as it emerged for his
foreskin was a shocking pink against the darkness with a
drip of precum showing along the split.  I just had to, my
tongue flicked out to taste and I was lost.  What would you
have done?  I wouldn't have changed anything that happened
later.
Opening my mouth so far I thought I'd split it I managed to
slide the tip, then a couple of inches of hot male strength
inside my mouth and started by lapping at it with my tongue,
then carefully closing my lips.  It just felt so right, I
knew I had to get more of it in me, all of it, down to the
short fuzzy hair I could see at his groin.  It didn't seem
quite such a strain now I'd allowed my mouth to close but
each time I lubed it up with my saliva and tried to slide
deeper I found myself gagging when it reached the back of my
mouth.  What was i doing wrong?  It must be me, I'd seen the
boys in Africa go right down, they'd done so with me and
actually he wasn't that much larger, maybe a bit broader and
I so wanted to please him.
Meanwhile Andrew had changed from slapping my arse to
probing at the entrance to my hole with his fingers.  Paul
pulled my head up from his cock, `Why not catch your breath
and let Andrew have a bit of fun for a while.'  He must have
read the look on my face, `Don't worry; I've in no way
finished with you yet and neither has he.'