Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2011 20:34:49 -0500 (EST) From: jack543216@aol.com Subject: BOY, POPPED This story is fiction. If it's illegal to read this where you are, STOP NOW. If stories of rough sex between adults offends you, STOP NOW. You've been warned. Copyright on this story is held by the author in accordance with all relevant law. Requests for reprints or linkage must be submitted to the author for approval. BOY, POPPED By Jack Smith Keep in mind that when I say 'boy,' I'm don't mean a certain age, height, or completely smooth. But he does have to be fairly new to what I'm going to show him. And if he has father-related issues, well, that's like icing on the cake. Or the cherry on the banana split, so to speak. I'm American, and live in a big city. When I describe myself, it usually involves the word "enough." I'm good-looking enough, I'm tall enough, I'm fit enough, I'm smart enough, I'm hairy enough, I'm fair enough, I'm older but look young enough, my dick is big enough. Nothing about me is extraordinary, and if you're not very fussy, I'll do fine. I'll sleep with all types, makes and models, but truth to tell my taste runs to skinny white boys. Actually, any boy who has that aura of "I need . . ." - especially when he thinks he's being slick - is most often what I'm after. And there are plenty of black, Asian, latino, etc etc etc boys who meet the description. But tonight it was going to be the white boy at the other end of the bar. He was lanky, and wearing those skinny leg jeans that are cut low. Not saggy like the black boys and poor white trash boys, but made to be that way. That meant that he was probably from a middle class family that would be horrified to learn he was at this bar, in a part of town that would never be gentrified. The place had a low down feel to it, and a great bartender named Ben who had fucked most of the regulars at one time or another (me included, but that's another story). Ben had two rules - no under-age, and no guns. So I know the boy was legal, even if he looked like he was still in high school. I walked slowly down to the other end of the bar, and sat down two stools away. I looked at Ben and tilted my head toward the boy. Ben got another beer and put it down in front of him. He looked up, puzzled, and Ben tilted his head toward me. All in silence (except for the music Ben always had playing, but never loud enough to interfere), as if it were choreographed. When the kid looked at me, he smiled with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. I got a look at him and was pleased. Dirty blond hair combed like boys do now, dark eyes, remnants of teenage acne, skinny arms showing from a t-shirt he'd cut the sleeves off, sneakers, and those jeans, riding low enough to show the waist of his underwear. At his look I moved one stool closer, and said "Yeah, I know just how you feel." Now that's an opening line that doesn't really mean anything, and sometimes it turns boys off. This one looked at me, decided I looked nice enough (amazing how you can see thoughts run across the face of a boy before he's learned to hide everything) raised the bottle and said "Thanks." That's all, just "thanks," but it was enough. It told me he was at this dive because he was looking for he didn't know what. Maybe he thought he would fuck me - I'm not very imposing, but I would do. He gulped down the beer, and when he put the bottle down I put my hand on his shoulder and said "Time to go." He looked at me again, and stood up. He looked even scrawnier standing, with that slouch boys put on because they think it's cool. I turned to go out, and he followed. It was cool out, and he didn't have a jacket, but I just kept walking. My place was about ten minutes away, a loft in an old building that I was fixing up at my own pace (slowly). When we got there and I went in he hesitated but I didn't so he followed. When we got in the old style elevator (iron gate, run manually) I said "Name?" He looked up and mumbled "Ricky -" then stopped, and said "Rick." "Well, Rick," I said, "I'm Jack. We're here." Although there's lots of space, furnishings are sparse, and I do laundry when I feel like it. That means the bed is a mattress on the floor, there's piles of clothes around that will be washed someday, and the sheets haven't been changed in a while. Rick looked around, and I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him around to face me. I looked him in the eyes, put my hands on both sides of his face, and moved in to kiss him. Softly, tenderly. He stood immobile for a moment, then put his arms around me. I held him close, so that he could feel my hardening dick pressing against his. He froze for a second, then kissed me back. Passionately. Yes, I thought, perfect. This boy was ready, and so was I. I pulled away from him, and started to take off my clothes. As he saw me get naked, he also took off his shirt, then lowered his pants. He turned around, like he was shy or something, and I got a look at his ass. Round, firm, not too big. This was gonna be good. He turned back to face me, and I saw his dick. Nice size, I might even suck it if he needed it. He watched me take down my shorts, and it seemed like he didn't mind what he saw. I moved back to him, and gave him another soft, passionate kiss. Still kissing, I lowered him down on the mattress. I was hard, and so was he. I maneuvered him onto his back and got between his open legs. I moved my head down to his cock and kissed the head then sucked it into my mouth. I'm a good enough cocksucker, and the kid was loving it. While I was sucking I started fingering his hole. He didn't like that much, but since it told me he hadn't been fucked much if at all, I knew I was set. I moved back up so I was over him, took his skinny wrists in my hands and pinned him down. "You're gonna get fucked kid," I said softly. "I don't know, I, I mean, I -" he was whispering but he wasn't moving away. I spread his thighs with my knees, and started licking his face. My hard cock was laying against his hard cock. I moved so that my cockhead was moving up and down his dick, stroking his cock with mine. I could tell by his breathing that he was liking that so I released him and reached for the Vaseline. Yes, Vaseline. I don't use condoms. I don't even pretend to. Sometimes guys get up and leave, but not often. When this one saw what I was reaching for, I could tell he didn't know whether to say something. He looked me in the eye, and I gave him my best "I'll take care of you" look. He may have had doubts, but he didn't move. I spread the Vasoline on my cock and positioned it at his pucker. It was like my cock was at a brick wall. I pushed gently, and made no progress. That made my cock even harder because I knew what it was going to be like later. But for now I reached back and pinned the kids arms again, and looked him in the eye. He was frightened, and closed his eyes - but he didn't move. I quietly said, "Look at me kid." His eyes opened. I pushed my cock against his hole again, and he shut his eyes again. "Look at me," I said again. He could feel my cock at his cunt, but he didn't know what to do to make it happen. I did - I pressed steadily, slowly, and looked at him the whole time. I felt him try to move his arms, but not with any real force, just because he was unsure, maybe even embarrassed. I didn't care, I just kept pushing. Finally, my cock, the Vaseline, and his need all worked together and it happened. My cockhead popped into his hole. This is my favorite part of a fuck, the pop when a boy is breached and my cockhead penetrates. I stopped moving and just savored the moment. The feel of his hole grabbing around my cockhead, trying to close, but it can't. I saw the confusion in the kid's eyes, then saw them widen as the pain registered. I was ready, and I held his arms firmly. I saw him struggle a little for breath, and felt his legs start to thrash. And then I felt the spasms and saw the panic in his eyes. If there's anything better than the first pop, it's when the spasms hit. Sometimes the muscle works so hard to try to close that it kind of freaks out, and it tries to open and close instinctively to get rid of the intruder. And the way it feels on my cock is why I like to fuck boys - you don't get that with someone who's been around. It's like breaking a wild horse. It's the goddam best. The kid didn't know what was going on, just that there was pain. I held him down, and savored it all - his fear, the spasms squeezing my cock, and yes, even the tears I saw forming in his eyes. I slowly let go of one of his arms, drew my hand back, and quickly, before he could realize his arm was free, I drew my hand back and slapped him hard across the side of his head. As I expected, he froze in shock, and I made my move. I shoved the rest of my cock into his tight hole and grabbed his arm again. His face showed surprise, pain, fear, joy as he realized that he had given himself up to a man, just like he always wanted. A man's cock was inside him, a man had taken him. I leaned in to kiss him, and as I lowered my torso on top of his, I felt his cock against my belly. It was rock hard. I smiled to myself as I thrust my tongue into his mouth. I don't really care if the boy I'm fucking gets off on it, but if he does I feel a special pleasure. And this kid did what very few do - in the middle of his pain, fear and crying, I felt him close his legs around my back. He probably didn't even know he was doing it, but I did, and I started to fuck him. Hard and rough. He started screaming into my kiss, and I could still feel his hole spasming around my slick cock. This was good. He was gonna remember this a long time, and twenty years from now he would still get hard as he remembered it. When he finally stopped screaming into my mouth I broke the kiss and whispered into his ear. "Fucking faggot, my cock in your cunt, you always wanted this didn't you. Wanted a man's cock in your cunt. I know you want it bitch, I can feel your hard cock leaking out cum as I fuck you. Broke through and popped your cherry. I'm fucking you, you fucking cunt." From the look in his eye I think what he heard was "I love you," which made me fuck him all the harder. I had jerked off in the morning, so I knew I was good to go for a long while. I kept fucking him, holding him down, kissing him when he screamed. At some point his breath was in short gasps, and I felt his cock, which was squeezed between us, start to shudder and I felt his cum pouring out. His orgasm made his hole tighten up on my cock as he came and I went into high gear. I had been fucking him so long the Vaseline had worn off, but I didn't care if he was getting rubbed raw. The friction on my cock was what I was waiting for. As I felt my orgasm start to build, I let go of his arms, grabbed his thighs and spread them wider. I knew he wouldn't fight or try to escape. I plowed in further than before, and I shot off inside him. When he realized what I was doing I saw his eyes open wide again. But he took it, took all my mancum in his cunt. Did what a boy is meant to do, even as I saw tears in his eyes. I leaned down to kiss him again, feeling his cum still warm between us. I kept my cock inside him, I love how it feels to have my slowly softening dick covered in my own cum still being squeezed by a tight boy hole. Eventually, as my cock started to slip out of him, I felt his internal muscles push me out. When that happens, I know it's over. I stood up, stepped over him, and went to the bathroom. I didn't close the door as I peed loud and long. I love the feeling of a relieving piss after a satisfying fuck. I went back to the mattress, and saw him still lying there in a state of shock, pain, satisfaction, and confusion. I knelt down, and put my lips to his ear. "You have two minutes to get out of here," I whispered. "What?? But . . ." he stammered. The look on his face was priceless. I paused. "One minute and forty five seconds," I said quietly. "But can't I stay a little bit, maybe . . ." "One minute and thirty seconds." I got up and started collecting his clothes and sneakers. He was operating on basic emotions now, and started to cry. Didn't do anything, just sat there and cried. I held his stuff in my arms and stood by the door. "One minute." I opened the door. He didn't move, and kept crying. I threw his clothes out into the hall. I walked to the bed and stood over him. "Thirty seconds." He looked up at me like a puppy who had been kicked. I reached down and lifted him up. His cock swung against my leg, and I could feel that it was beginning to harden. I sighed. Yeah, that happens a lot, but I don't double dip. I dragged him over to the door - he wasn't resisting exactly, but he wasn't walking either. "Five seconds," I said. He stood there crying. I pushed him out and closed the door. I went to the mattress and laid down. It had been a good night. I could hear him sobbing outside for a while but I fell asleep pretty quickly, so I don't know how long he was there before he left. Guys, tell me what you think - jack543216@aol.com Other Nifty stories: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/action/ http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/athletics/member-of-the-gym