Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2021 17:05:22 +0000 (UTC)
From: austintc@aol.com
Subject: Carter and the biker boy, Chapter 13

The following story is purely fiction involving fictional individuals of
different ages being engaged in sexual acts. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please
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Carter and the Biker Boy

Chapter 13

"Carter? Carter Michaels?"

"Yes? I mean, oh, sorry!  Here!"

"Oh, there you are, Senor Michaels. Como te llamas en Espanol, Carter?"
Senora Lopez, the third year Spanish teacher finally saw me sitting
behind one of the big junior boys in the corner of the room.  I had a
hard time finding the room, since it was located in the junior part of
the school, and one of the only seats left was amongst three guys that
looked like they were the starting defensive line for the Harlem Huskies
football team. Senora Lopez was waiting for my response, wanting to know
what my name was in Spanish.  I had completely zoned out, totally
intimidated by being in this end of the school. So of course, the first
thing I did was respond with a completely wrong answer.

"Carter Angel Michaels, Senora," was all I could think of to respond,
saying my name like my mom would always call me when she was mad at me:
Car-tair An-hel Matt-hews! The teacher already knew my name, and then
embarrassed me more when she told me in Spanish she knew my name but
wanted to know what my chosen Spanish name would be in class.

"Oh, disculpame, Senora. Um, en su clase me llamo.... Mateo (Ma-tay-o)
por favor. I apologized and told her I would like my name to be Mateo --
Matthew.

"Ay Senor Michaels ya tenemos Mateo Smith, y Dios mio no podemos tener
dos Mateos en mi clase!  Quieres un otro nombre?"  Dang.  There was
already another Matthew in class.  Okay.  So I chose the name of one of
my mom's favorite singers, David.

"Lo siento, Senora. Me llamo David (Dah-VEED) por favor." Amidst a few
snickers in the class when they figured out I wanted to be called David
Micheals, Senora Lopez nodded and agreed that my name would be David in
class. She went on to ask me how it was that a freshman would be able to
get into a third year Spanish class, and I explained to her in perfect
Spanish that I learned from my abuelitos and that I had tested into her
class.  She then acknowledged that she did remember a freshman who did
test into her class, and I was the only one to do so.  As I felt all of
the students in the class staring at me, my face continued to get bright
red in embarrassment. This was not good.

My first day at Harlem High school was going okay. I got up on time, got
dressed in my new khaki shorts, a white tee shirt, short sleeve button up
light blue denim colored shirt, my new Nike socks, and shoes. With my new
haircut, my short blonde hair was parted off to the side and was held in
place with gel. Mom thought I looked great and wished me good luck as she
dropped me off in front of the entrance door to the freshman end of the
building.
Despite the feeling of being way intimidated and the blunder with Senora
Lopez in first hour Spanish 3 class, the first few classes were fine -- I
actually had Javy in my Algebra 1 class, which was third hour, right
before lunch. He was doing fine, much better than me since he had found
his friends from soccer and was hanging out with them. We were going to
have lunch together, but by the time I made it through the food line and
checked out, the last seat had been taken at his table, so I had to sit
alone. It was okay, I used to being by myself, and all was going good
until I finished my lunch: a Hot Dog with ketchup and mustard with French
fries and a small bag of red grapes.  So of course, when I got up to go
to the garbage can, I ran right into a dude that had to be like seven
feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds.  My tray immediately was
plastered against my shirt -- the ketchup cup from the fries was also
plastered against my nice clean white shirt. Some of the ketchup got on
the big guy's shirt, so naturally he pushed me, and I fell backwards,
spilling the rest of my uneaten fries on top of my chest.

"Get out of my way, freshie," was all he said. I was so embarrassed and
immediately had to go to the bathroom to try and clean the ketchup off my
tee shirt before going to my U.S. History class, which was next. That
wasn't the worst of it all. Little did I know that as I walked into the
boys' bathroom, I was followed into the bathroom by the two losers,
Terrell and Connor.

"Hey Michaels, we meet again." Connor said as he snickered, both of the
boys surrounding me as I stood at the sink washing the ketchup stain out
of my white shirt.  "So, how's your first day, faggot boy?" I didn't
answer them, but kept washing my shirt, as my nervousness was now washing
over me like tidal waves crashing in on the beach.

"What's the matter, fag-boy? Your cousin not here to protect you now,
is he? Well guess what, we got something to go with your ketchup stained
shirt.  How's about a quickie blowjob for us since you liked it so well
in your garage?"

I was starting to get nervous to the point of shaking, but also felt a
rage starting to build inside. In my mind's eye, my fist would have
connected first by punching each of those losers in the gut, followed by
another solid blow to each of their noses, which would have ultimately
resulted in broken noses and a swift kick delivered solidly into their
balls.  But no, I was now nervous to the point of just doing what they
wanted so they would leave me alone. It was heading in that direction, as
I felt myself being pushed back against the wall into the handicapped
stall by both of them, and as I looked down, I could tell by the front of
their khakis that they were both hard and ready to do what they did to me
in the garage, but just like that the bathroom door open and the deep
voice of a man startled all three of us.

"Boys! What is going on here? Out of the stall, now!" Looking at
Terrell and Connor, it was easy to tell what was going down, as I was on
the verge of tears. The two idiots looked surprised to be caught, their
tented shorts giving away what was about to happen. "You two, get out of
here, now.  I had better not catch you in here again."  He then pointed
at me. "I hope this was not something of your doing...Mr..."

"Michaels, sir.  Carter Michaels.  No, they, were just about rea..."
suddenly I stopped, knowing that if I ratted on those two, sooner or
later they would make my life a whole lot worse, so I stopped and changed
the course of what I was going to say.  "...ready to leave but I asked
them about... how to get ketchup out of my shirt, sir," was all I could
think of to say.

"Okay Mr. Michaels. Well, you had all better hope that was the truth.
There is zero tolerance for fooling around in the boys' room, and you
know what I mean.  I don't think that is a label you want to carry with
you your four years here at Harlem.  So you had better do that on your
own time, not here at school."

I was upset by what the teacher or whomever he was had just said to me.
On one hand, he saved me from blowing those two again, but got it all
wrong in thinking that I had initiated it. Crap. What a great way to
start the year. Labeled as being gay already. I hate my life.

U.S. History, my next class, went fairly well.  I didn't mind history,
but of course since I had gotten my tee shirt dirty and had to button up
my other shirt, it was really hot in the class and I almost fell asleep.
My friend Emma kept nudging me from behind, hoping that I wouldn't get a
detention the first day of school. Emma and I have been friends since
second grade, and it was so nice to see her again.  She had spent the
entire summer at her grandmother's house in San Antonio and was very
tanned.  We had texted a few times over the summer, and I had kept track
of her Insta pics, but we never did get a chance to talk. Emma and I were
almost the same size and height, but her long straight black hair was of
course, different than my short, straight, blonde hair. She is thin, and
is nicely developed for a girl, if you know what I mean. I've kind of
felt all along like she has always wanted something more than just
friends from me, and I'm afraid one of these days she's going to ask me
what is up with me, why I'm not interested in her.  It's not easy at
all because if I wasn't into guys, she'd definitely be the first girl
I'd date.

As soon as History class was over, I had to leave the room quickly to
find my next class, Social Studies. After that class it was P.E., the
last class of the day.  Emma walked me to the Social Studies class then
headed on to her Science class, which was only a few classrooms further
from my class.  We decided that over Labor Day weekend, we would hang out
and catch up on what happened over the summer. She always wanted to know
all the details of what was going on in my life, and I guess since you
could say that she is my best (girl) friend, she knew quite a bit about
me, but not everything...
Luckily, I got to Social Studies on time, and found a seat along the wall
just as I walked in the door.  It was the third seat, and my only hope
was that the teacher would allow us to stay in our seats and not make us
sit in alphabetical order.  There were only about four or five students
in the class, mostly girls when I got my seat, but then one by one the
class filled up.  The teacher had not yet got to the class and looking at
my schedule it looked like it was going to be a Mrs. R. Murphy.  So, you
can imagine my surprise when in walked the guy I saw on the bike path
with his young son that Sunday afternoon while I was crying at the
shelter house in the park. I think his name was Mr. Olaffsen, or
something like that.  Since I lost his card, I couldn't remember his
name.  Now I was just praying that he wouldn't remember me. I started to
get really nervous.

"Good afternoon class.  My name is Mr. Olsen.  I know you're expecting
Mrs. Murphy to be your teacher today, but it just so happened that Mr.
and Mrs. Murphy's first child decided to spoil her first day at school,
as he was born this morning.  So, for the time being, you'll have to put
up with me. Let's go ahead and see who all is here, and then I'll tell
you a little about myself."

As Mr. Olsen began to take attendance, I felt ready to throw up as he
made his way through the alphabet of last names. Certainly, he was going
to remember me. Now he would know my name, and say something like "Oh
yeah, you're the kid in the park who was crying like a baby. Is
everything okay now, little guy?" It's like I could already hear all of
the kids laughing at me, making me gather my things and run out of the
class.

"Carter Michaels?" he said my name in a calm voice.

"Here" I raised my hand waiting for the worst as he glanced over to
find me. "Great, Carter.  Welcome to class." That was it.  He moved on
to the next person, Ian Montgomery, or something like that. All that
worry for nothing.

"Parker Nelson?" I glanced over to my left, two rows over to see the
guy named Parker Nelson raise his hand and tell Mr. Olsen he was here. I
recognized this kid from another class, or in the hallway or something.
All I knew is that he was...okay, I'll say it, cute. He was wearing a
pair of khakis like mine, looked like a blue Cub's jersey with Rizzo's
name on the back, white ankle socks and a pair of blue Asics running
shoes. His tussled brown hair with blonde streaks was longer on the top
and short on the sides, and his black metal rimmed glasses accented his
dark eyebrows and brown hair...perfectly. I would not like to think that
he saw me looking at him, but as the person next to me, Abbie Smith, or
someone like that raised her hand and said `here', Parker's eyes met
mine and then as quick as our eyes met, we both looked away. Busted, I
thought to myself. Thankfully, he made no expression as he looked away.

The rest of the class was good.  Actually, I liked the way Mr. Olsen was
teaching the class.  Until he gave us our first homework assignment: To
write a short paper, five paragraphs at least discussing what we thought
was the biggest social problems facing our school, city, state, and even
the country. It was going to be due in a couple of weeks. It was going to
be a part of a monthly assignment that would be separate from what we
would be studying in the textbook. All too quick the bell rang, and the
class was over.  I slowly grabbed my backpack, and then realized that I
had to get back to my locker to grab my gym bag and to then get to P.E.
class.  As I walked down the hallway trying to make sure I took the right
turn to get to where my locker was, I realized that Parker Nelson was in
front of me.  I wanted to go up and talk to him, but I just couldn't --
too shy, of course. Several students passed him saying "Go Cubs!" to
which he gave a thumbs up as they walked by. When he stopped at his
locker, I realized my locker was only eight or ten lockers further. I put
my backpack in, grabbed my gym bag, made sure I had my lock and started
walking to the gym. I started to get nervous again because I hated gym.

As I walked through the door to the gym, I noticed that the coach was
telling us to take a seat on the bleachers. I walked up about four rows,
looking for anyone I knew, but didn't see any seats near some of the
guys I remembered from 8th grade.  I did see Javy, but he was with some
of his soccer friends again. I sat in an open area on the end of the row,
hoping that maybe the guy from Social Studies would be in my class and
choose to sit by me. I kept looking at the door where the other kids were
coming in, and sure enough, in he walks.  He was surrounded by some
bigger guys, and he didn't look like he was sure of what to do. But he
did follow them up to the bleachers, only to sit two rows down and
directly in front of me. Still lost in my thoughts again, I was stuck in
a blank stare at the hardwood floor of the basketball court when this big
fat kid sat down next to me and started to tell me how much he hated gym.

"Dude, I'm like almost out of breath just climbing up the bleachers.  I
wish we didn't have to do gym class.  What do you think?" He was
wearing a black tee shirt from a rock band I have never heard of, with
worn jeans that were dirty and had holes in them.  His shaggy, sandy
blonde hair hung over his brown plastic rimmed glasses, and he judging by
the redness in his face, he was clearly not used to exercising at all. I
figured I'd better reply to him. Never know, he might be a good guy to
have on my side just in case.

"Yeah, I hate it too.  I'm always chosen last for teams, and I'm not
at all good at sports.  I'd much rather have a study hall or even take
another math class."

"Dude, I get it. I'm trying to talk my Aunt into getting me an excuse
from my doctor. I live with her and my Uncle, but they think I gotta lose
some weight so that ain't happenin'. I'm Tony, but you can call me Big
T." By now I just wanted to get up and move to another seat, because
this guy was starting to be a little weird. I agreed with his Aunt and
Uncle but didn't think it would be a good thing to tell this kid,
because I'm sure he could crush me if he sat on me. I introduced myself
as Carter, and just as I said my name, thankfully, the coach told
everyone to be quiet and another coach began taking attendance.
Soon attendance was over, and the coach then gave a thirty minute speech
about fitness and what we would be doing this year in P.E. I kept looking
at my watch, and as it finally reached 2:50 pm, I knew my first day of
school was drawing to its close.

Once the bell rang, we all stood up and walked off the bleachers. Big T
kept talking to me as we walked out.  I guess he needed a friend, so I
just kept listening to him ramble on about cars and motorcycles as we
walked back to the freshman lockers.  He stopped at his locker and I kept
going to mine, hoping to see Parker still at his, but he was not there. I
unlocked the lock, then grabbed my backpack, put my books in, put my gym
bag back in the locker, closed the door, locked it, and headed out the
door to the buses.  Since mom had to be in early for a meeting, I had to
ride the bus. I hated riding the bus almost more than I hated gym class.
But I found my bus, number eleven, and followed the line of three kids
that got on before me.  Luckily, I found one empty seat on the right side
of the bus, took my backpack off, and sat down on the dark green vinyl
seat. I was looking out the window at the kids walking up to the bus and
to my surprise saw Parker walking up to my bus! I was also surprised as
heck when seconds later Big T sat down next to me, almost crowding me
into the side of the bus.

"Hey dude! We're on the same bus!  Where do you live?"  I really
didn't want to tell him exactly where, but did tell him over by Martin
Park, by the bike path. "Nice dude.  I live down by the apartments near
Shorewood. Do you know where that is?"  I replied that I did, with
little enthusiasm in my voice.  "Dude, maybe you could come over
sometime."  As I looked out the window to see Terrell and Connor walk
towards the bus, I replied with regret to Big T that yeah, that would be
good. Thankfully, the two idiots didn't see me sitting next to Big T,
and they moved all the way to the back of the bus. I had enough of those
losers earlier today.

Finally, the bus was loaded, and the bus driver stood up to let us know
that he was sure he knew where our stops were, but if he missed it let
him know so he could stop right away. I had just hoped that Big T would
get off the bus before me.

No such luck.  As the bus rambled south on East drive, I was surprised to
see that Parker got off the bus on the corner of the East Drive and the
street that went back to some really nice houses along the river -- the
east side of the river. As the bus drove away, it looked like he was
still walking further down the street to the quiet end of the street
where the nice houses were located. As we reached River Lane and East
Drive, I had to yell at the bus driver to stop, as the actual stop listed
on the postcard sent to us at home about a week ago was that
intersection, mere feet from where Dylan got in the accident with the car
back in June. Big T had to get up out of the seat for me to get off the
bus. "See you tomorrow, dude." I just gave him a little wave and got
off the bus as quick as I could. As the bus went by, I heard either
Terrell or Connor yell "fag" out the window of the bus.

It felt good to get home.  I missed being at home during the day, and
even though the house was quiet, it was so good to be home.  Mom had her
meeting and then would be working the night shift again.  She did leave
me a note saying that there were some beans, rice, and carne asada in the
fridge and that I could heat that up for dinner.  She also told me to
behave, get my homework done, and to not leave the house tonight. It was
such a nice night, and since I didn't have much homework to do, I did
think about going for a quick bike ride.  I would text mom after dinner
to see if she would let me go out for just a little ride.

I finished all of my math and English homework quickly. The social
studies project homework didn't look too bad, and it wasn't due for
another two weeks, so I left that for later. While I was eating my
dinner, I got a couple of texts from Emma, and we exchanged messages for
a few minutes talking about how our day went. It was good to be back in
contact with her.  She was one of my really good friends. Of course, she
sent me the selfie she took of the two of us and made sure to comment on
just how cute the both of us looked together. Sigh...if only she knew.

I texted Mom, but did not get a response, so with about an hour left
before the sun went down, I took my bike out and headed north on the bike
path. The sky was clear, no wind, and a few boats were cruising up and
down the river, their loud motors drowning out the sounds of birds along
the path. Going past table rock, Dylan suddenly came into my mind.  I did
not see him at school, but since he's a junior, he was in a different
part of the school.  I did think that maybe I'd see him when I went to
first hour Spanish class, but that wasn't the case. Like Javy, he would
be at soccer practice right after school.

Thinking about Javy and how his day went, I wondered if he would get
moved up to the varsity soccer team and would Dylan and his friends try
to block him or treat him fairly. Then as an opening in the trees along
the railroad tracks exposed the huge houses on the east side of the
riverbank, the kid named Parker came to my mind. Which house was his? Did
he live in the house that had a huge teepee in the back yard? I turned
back to look straight ahead on the path just in time to avoid hitting a
couple who were walking their small black wiener dog, who began barking
ferociously at me as I whizzed past.

As the path emerged from the forest and ran along the south side of the
soccer fields, my eyes scanned the teams of young grade school kids
playing on the three fields I passed. There were parents sitting in their
foldable chairs cheering and yelling at their kids, while other family
members looked like they were bored to tears waiting for the games to be
over.  Soon I was riding past the two empty baseball fields and was on my
way to the circular trail that went around the lake at the park district
office. When I reached the top of the trail and the park bench that
offered a nice view of the lake, I stopped to drink some water, check my
text messages and to just drink in the view of the placid lake and its
surroundings on this peaceful early fall evening.
I hadn't been there for more than two minutes when I heard voices
approaching me from the left. It was my social studies teacher with his
son again, and as much as I tried to not look at him, he saw me and both
him and his son stopped their bikes.  He spoke first.

"Oh hello, how are you doing tonight? You're in my social studies
class, right? You're Carter, right?" I cautiously replied that I was,
and he continued talking. "Well, I hope you enjoy my class.  It's been
few years since I've been in the classroom, but I have taught social
studies for almost ten years. I really enjoy the subject, but like
counseling much better. If I remember correctly, you passed us here a
week or so ago, correct?" I nodded that I had, and I was ready for him
to bring up the incident where I was bawling my eyes out by the shelter
house in Sportscore. But he didn't, which was a relief.
"So how did your first day of school go? I know it can be a difficult
and scary time for incoming freshmen.

"It was okay, but I was a little intimidated." I openly replied, just a
little apprehensive.

"But just remember that even though my schedule is a bit busier due to
teaching this year, I am the freshman class advisor and am a good
listener, so if there is anything (he put emphasis on anything) you need,
please don't hesitate to ask, okay? You enjoy the rest of your ride. Max
and I had best continue our nightly ride. See you tomorrow in class!"

"Thanks, Mr. Olsen. See you tomorrow," I replied back. Just like that
him and his son rode off. His words were comforting, and as difficult as
it is for me to trust adults that I don't know, he seemed nice enough to
maybe trust and that I could talk to if things at school get out of hand.
As decent as my first day was, my fears of being tormented at school
would probably become reality soon enough.

The ride back home was great.  The sun was inching closer to setting over
the horizon when I rode past the small pond between the baseball and
soccer fields. There were several people fishing on the shores of the
pond, and several groups of Canadian geese honking along the shores as
well. I took out my phone and took a selfie with my back to the river as
I stood on the eastern shore of the pond, my face being illuminated by
the setting sun. I texted it to Emma and my mom, as well as updated my
Instagram page. My smiling image reflected my good mood, and as my bike
ride ended, and I put my bike in the garage, the sun had now set and my
first day of school was officially over.

I took a nice hot shower, got my clothes ready for tomorrow: the same
pair of khaki shorts, and this time a blue Cubs t-shirt (would it be too
obvious?).  For a bedtime snack, mom had some bagels and cream cheese for
me, so of course I ate a toasted cinnamon swirl bagel with cream cheese
and a glass of milk while watching television. About 8:30 my eyes could
barely stay open, so I brushed my teeth, and crawled in bed. Even though
it had been nearly a week since I'd jacked off and two weeks since Dylan
was with me, I was too tired to jack off.  As I was just about ready to
fall asleep, I got a text from Dylan.

< HEY CARTER-MAN, SORRY FOR THE LATE TXT HOPE U HAD A GOOD FIRST DAY AT
SCHOOL. THOUGHT U'D LIKE TO SEE THIS PIC.

Attached was a pic of the freshmen and sophomores who got moved up to the
varsity soccer teams.  There were eight guys, one of them was Javy,
smiling, his right arm around the guy next to him, his left arm on
Dylan's shoulder, Dylan's on his. I responded to him with...

< CONGRATS TO EVERYONE!

Dylan responded with...
< THANKS. U NEED TO COME TO OUR GAME THIS THURSDAY AT HOME AGAINST
AUBURN. MISS SEING U...(sad emoji with a tear in its eye).

< I MISS U TOO. WILL TRY BUT NEED A RIDE. MISS U 2. G'NITE.

With that, I drifted off to a dreamless sleep until...

...sometime in the middle of the night. In my dream, Javy and me were at
the park kicking the soccer ball around. Javy was wearing his black
soccer shorts, black and white soccer shoes, and was shirtless.  His
tanned, skin was glistening with perspiration in the late afternoon sun.
I was mesmerized as always by his nearly perfect upper body -- six pack
abs, strong pecs, and biceps, and his muscular back as well. He was
smiling at me, and told me he'd made varsity, but only had one more
thing to do to make the team.  He told me to follow him, that he needed
my help with something.

We walked across the field to big main fieldhouse where the restrooms and
showers were located. As we approached the men's restroom and locker
room, I heard voices and laughter inside. Javy opened the door, went in
to the right and we were now in the locker room that was just as big as
the locker room at my grade school. Inside were a few of the varsity
soccer players from the high school team, and Dylan. All of them had
their shirts and soccer shorts off and were just wearing jock straps.
Three of the players grabbed their towels and headed to the showers, but
one of the players, whom I think was named Isaac, stayed with Dylan.

Dylan introduced Javy and me to Isaac, whose straight dark black hair was
long on top and short on the sides. Isaac was about as tall as Dylan, but
he had a thinner upper body and strong, muscular legs.  Dylan introduced
Isaac as the captain of the soccer team and would have to approve of Javy
being on the team.  In order to do so, Javy had to get on his knees and
suck on both Dylan and Isaac's dicks, naked. Javy had a confused look on
his face, but as bad as he wanted to be on the varsity team, he knew this
was a rite of passage he would have to endure. He faced Isaac first,
since he was the captain. Isaac lowered his jockstrap to reveal a full
dark bush of pubes, a long dick that wasn't as thick as Dylan's, but
was not circumcised. His balls were barely visible due to the dark black
pubes that surrounded his full sack. At first Javy hesitated, but Isaac
grabbed Javy's long, curly black hair and pulled his head into his
crotch.  Javy almost gagged, but soon got used to Isaac's size, and
before long was taking him deep in his mouth. It didn't take long before
Isaac moaned and held Javy's head tightly against his crotch and forced
Javy to take his entire load in his mouth, which Javy had no choice but
to swallow. I almost felt bad for Javy, but then I remembered the times
that he was with me and felt that he got what he deserved.

Next it was Dylan's turn. I was totally turned on and I could feel my
dick just as hard as it's ever been, the precum wetting my boxer briefs
just as if I was peeing myself. Javy was now on his knees in front of
Dylan. As Dylan lowered his jock strap, His beautiful, huge, curved dick
that I knew all too well was now in Javy's face.  Dylan instructed Javy
to suck on his hairy sack, sucking on each ball in his mouth, then
licking up the shaft to his dickhead. Just as soon as Javy was going to
move his tongue back to Dylan's balls, Dylan instructed him to take his
dick in his mouth.  Javy eagerly did so, sucking him with the same
intensity that he sucked Isaac. After a few minutes, suddenly Dylan
pulled out of Javy's mouth, and motioned for me to come over and join
them.  I almost pointed at myself in disbelief, as I was just about to
take my own dick out and finish myself with my moist right hand.  But
Dylan had other plans. He instructed Javy to follow him to the wooden
bench in front of the lockers, where he told him to bend over. Dylan
pulled Javy's shorts and underwear down, exposing his tight, virgin
hole. Remember, Javy had only sucked and fucked me; I had never been
allowed to be inside him. Dylan then instructed me to get in front of
Javy and told Javy to start sucking me. Just as Javy was about to take me
in his mouth, Dylan's saliva lubed dick burst through Javy's hole,
causing him to almost scream out in pain, but instead he chose to take me
into his hot, wet mouth, moaning each time Dylan thrust his dick deeper
inside Javy's tight hole. I was trying to enjoy every moment, and
didn't want to cum. But since Dylan hadn't cum recently either, on
about his twentieth stroke, his body tensed, and he pulled out of Javy's
hole and unleashed a huge load all over Javy's back, with one or two
shots even hitting my face.  I eagerly scooped his hot semen off my face
and licked it off my fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop of his
tasty cum. At the same time, Javy increased his tongue and sucking
action, which proved to be more than I could handle. I could sense the
wave building from deep within, and with no way to stop the enormous
amount of cum that was going to crash on shore and flood Javy's mouth, I
unleashed one of the largest and most intense loads of cum into my shorts
as I suddenly woke up from the deepest, most sensuous wet dreams I've
ever experienced in my young life so far.

The mess in my underwear was massive. I couldn't believe how much I'd
cum from the wet dream. Still somewhat asleep, my skin was wet with
perspiration, and the sheets where I had been sleeping were damp as
well.  It was just about 1:30 in the morning. Mom wouldn't be home for
another five hours, so it made the most sense to go hop in the shower to
clean off.  The thought of Javy, Dylan and Isaac naked fooling around
with each other got me hard again and before I knew it, I was stroking my
dick, desperately needing to cum again.  Sure enough, about five minutes
later my dick got really stiff and shot three long strings of cum on the
wall and floor of the shower. Now I was getting really tired, so I shut
the water off, dried myself off, threw the towel on the floor in my room
and crawled into bed naked, falling asleep almost immediately, this time
with a huge smile on my face.