Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2011 16:01:08 -0600 From: rob loveboy Subject: Jack&Jill-Went-Downhill-20 I laid on the floor for the longest time bawling like a baby. It was Morgan that comforted me by laying down and holding me tight. "It's okay to cro'y, Jacky. I tink even big boys cro'y when der feew'in bad." he stroked my hair, "I don' tink Jewl meaned to punch you in da nose and make ya b'weed. -- I tink he feel sad 'bout dat and dat's why he weft. Da ya tink he wiwl come back soon, Jacky?" "I hope so, Morgan." I sobbed, "But what he did to you was wrong. He hurt you!" "Yeah... it hurted a watt, I gueth. Ony when he put it in my bum, 'dough. Ebryting else feeled nice like he staid it would." Morgan relayed, "But why did ya jump on him and punch him, Jacky? Dat wasn't nice ya know!" "You're right, Morgan, that wasn't nice at all and I shouldn't have done that." I said with remorse, "Lets get you dressed and on your way." I check his behind one last time, other than being purple and matching his mouth from the Popsicle, there was no bleeding and just a slight swelling. The 'love bites' of course weren't going to fade anytime soon and I had no way of knowing about possible internal injuries. I snorted a couple of lines of Coke and laid down naked on my bed nursing a headache from the punch and then the run in with the night table. Jillian stopped short of plummeting me into oblivion. My nose hurt like hell but stopped bleeding, at least it wasn't broken. I must have dozed off for while and awoke to noise coming from the window. It wasn't Jill, it was Sheldon. One look at my swollen eyes, bruised forehead and blood crusted nostrils, his jaw dropped and eyes popped out of their sockets. "Jacky what the fuck happened to you?" he asked leaning over for a closer inspection of the damage. "Where's Jill... did he do this to you?" I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to tell him all the gory details that led up to it. The less people knew the safer things were but I broke down and told him everything. About Jill's sordid past and present; about Texas, the brothers, the party, even how we drugged him the previous day. Everything right down to the rape of little Morgan. I had to get it all off my chest and conscience and Sheldon held me tight as I bawled and sputtered the unthinkable truth. Ironic was the fact that I was baring my soul laying naked and fully exposed in his arms. The symbolic revelation hadn't occurred to me until I felt his hand caress my junk. By the time I finished my barrage of tell-all, no-holds-barred account of events I was fully aroused, craving his intimacy. I wasn't in love with Sheldon but I needed him. I needed him to make love to me, as strange as that seemed at the time of angst. No words needed said. His tender kiss upon my lips turned into a ravage of mouth exploration and the tearing at his clothing until I had his own excited member in my hand and worked it into me, my knees in my face then scissoring his torso after entry. He slid in so painless yet filling a very comfortable capacity. His first time, so gentle and caring of my well being. No thrust, no diving, just lustful plunges then ease of withdrawal over and over. It was the way it was meant to be. Instead of my face smothered in a chest, it met his own and our tongues danced a rhythmic tango only ceasing to catch our breaths and gasp in pleasure. I came first, a powerful orgasm without physical manipulation. My cock pulsed and emptied sandwiched between our bellies giving a slick coating that he slithered over until his final push and moment of bliss. I could feel his cock hemorrhage and throb within me. We laid there a long time well after we disengaged, physical limitations and shrinkage left a void almost immediately. I thought of Jill at that moment; my favorite time was when he finished his aggression deep into me and deflating. Inch by sensuous inch his girth was felt retracting in a most pleasurable way until a cough, a muscle spasm or sudden Charlie horse caused complete extraction from my innards. I missed him then, and I cried. The feeling was lost, I pulled away from Sheldon ashamed at my behaviour. I had used him for reasons unknown, which under the circumstances seemed inappropriate. How could I possibly have had sex with someone after experiencing such mental anguish. I had degraded myself again by allowing another boy to fuck me and kiss me like he would a girl. It was disgusting! I covered my shameful nudity with the sheet. Sheldon must have sensed my discomfort and began to dress with his back to me. Perhaps he felt shame as well. He appeared to be looking for something, scanning under the bed and rummaging discarded clothing and bedding. After another line I relaxed, Sheldon had passed on the offer. "I called earlier and your Grammy said you went fishing. I think I dropped my wallet in here yesterday and asked if I could come by to look for it. I seen both your bikes when I got here, so I assumed you were home and..." "He didn't take his bike?" I jumped up leaving the protective sheet to gather on the floor and peered out the window. Sure enough, there it lay chained to the gas pipe along side my own and what must have been Sheldon's laying on the grass. Of course... the combination he could never remember! That, and the Cocaine left behind led me to believe he would return home once he calmed down. Sheldon never did find his wallet in my room and went home wishing me luck with Jillian. Truth be known, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to come home. Circumstances of the days events were still too fresh in my mind. He had crossed the line of tolerance, my ever forgiving arms would be Jello. I could not pretend everything was alright anymore. Jillian needed help, but not the kind I could provide. Grandma couldn't help but notice the bruise on my head at the supper table, luckily my nose had cleared up. I told her that I fell off my bike hitting my head. She looked sceptical at me but didn't comment further. I anticipated the police, I was paranoid, feeling guilty by association I expected a visit. I had nothing to hide but I felt like an accessory. I realized that I did try to cover it up to protect Jillian. Who would believe I played no other role. Judge: "... *and *y*ou claim that you didn't do anything to harm the little boy, yet you admit that you inserted a frozen Popsicle into his anus!?... Guilty as charged, -- two years in youth detention hall; Court dismissed!" *That was my nightmare. I spent a restless sleep expecting to hear Jillian crawl through the window, undress and get into bed. It was only a dream when I felt a warmth embrace me and the stiffness of him pressed against my crack. I woke up to the huge feather pillow that Grandma no longer wanted and had passed onto me that night, a corner seam between my cheeks, my painful erection I found to be only in dire need of a pee. I went to school that Monday morning after doing two lines and re-packaging the cocaine for transit. It seemed to allow me to put aside Jillian for the time being and gave me a needed boost of confidence, a strange air about myself that I hadn't felt before. I was always an introvert and could care less about others. People seemed to take time to say hello, even chat in the hallways. It all seamed a little surreal at first. Was it my 'Tommy Hilfiger' attire that made me stand out and be noticed after so long of being invisible to most of my peers? Mr. Flynn, my homeroom teacher made a snide comment on what a pleasure and honor it was that I blessed the class with my presence. I pictured him nude, a rather impressive display of swollen manhood leading his way followed by the naive young boy in hand. I laughed with the rest of the class at my expense, but for other reasons. I laughed even harder! I breezed through my classes that day with only a minimal amount of catch up homework. I replenished my sense of superiority twice in the handi-capped bathroom, not wasting a grain atop my math book. Unlike days of ago, I didn't want to go home right after school, I wanted to revel in my new sudden popularity and found myself at the centre of attention of my male class mates dissing girls with lewd comments and gestures, none favorable of the fairer sex. I raised some eyebrows when I said to one particular obnoxiously stuck-up girl, "Fuck off bitch, guy's give better head anyway; and without attitude! We don't need your smelly cunts anymore, either!" Surprisingly, a few of the boys agreed, -- or misunderstood. Others stood in shock looking at me. I smiled and made a hasty exit from the group shocked at myself for being so blatant. Did I really say that? I didn't care,... that's what concerned me, I really didn't care! Jill's influence as if spoken himself escaped my lips. I blocked him from my mind as well. On route home I passed through the football field where the senior and junior teams were scrimmaging, organized football having ended weeks before. I heard my name being called, it was Danny Glover, a seventeen year old star player who was sitting on the side lines. Danny used to cut my Grandma's lawn before I was old enough to be trusted with such a deadly machine. He was always nice to me and called me 'little dude' even to the present day. Danny was short stature, big boned, not fat but a well proportioned muscular kind of a guy. A football jock, a little dense as they all seemed to be in my mind. I sat down on the grass beside him and chatted. He inquired about Grandma's well being and such, polite references to the old lady. I couldn't help but ask why he wasn't participating in the melee of boys body slamming boys, a sport I just couldn't grasp; like hockey for that matter. Jill's favorite, I reflected for no particular reason other than he seemed always on my mind. Danny told me that he had a knee injury that he was nursing. Battle wounds I thought, self inflicted by participating in such a violent activity. Who in their right mind would, in my opinion. A macho thing, a 'chick magnet' I surmised, like Jill had labelled those athletes and their loyal female follower's as wanna-be 'camp whores!' Status symbols of masculinity hanging off their frail little female arms for all other females to envy, their coveted stake. Cock teaser's in reality, frustrating guys who beg, grovel and plead and pledge their love and commitment in hopes of sticking their dicks in a warm mouth because the pussy is off limits! Stupid guys that maybe settle on a hand job that they've been doing to themselves for way too long anyway. Fuck! I was starting to think like Jillian. Danny and I chatted about things for a while until he announced he was going home and asked if I wanted a ride. He said he had to pick up his gym bag in the locker room on the way. I couldn't help but notice the sway and bounce of what must have been sizable goods beneath the grey cotton sweat shorts as we walked. He caught me looking and gave a quick grin but just carried on his conversation about something or other. The school encouraged students to utilize the gym facilities at their leisure after classes until 5:30 pm. A good many were lifting weights, doing gymnastics, playing basketball and various other fitness activities. The locker room was inhabited by a dozen teens, most of whom were naked. Three boys were engaged in a wet towel whipping of each other, yelps of pain echoed the tiled room and red welts proved the sting of contact. Two other boys were standing in a wrestling hold vying to down the other to the ceramic floor. Others were engaged in conversation in groups of two and three, no one in a hurry to shower or dress. Danny sat on the bench and removed his sneakers and socks, pulled off his t-shirt then stood and downed his shorts. Underwear free, I took in the site of his manhood that hung free at around four thick inches tipped with a mushroom cap. His testicles hung lower and flared with two walnut sized orbs weighing heavy suspended in a veiny, hairless sac. A jet black mount of hair tapered upward to his navel. A tuft adorned the centre of his nicely formed pectorals. Danny wasn't cute, maybe handsome in a rough way if you ignored the large ears that he obviously tried to conceal under his longish black hair and slight case of acme that pockmarked his cheeks, but what a fucking body that was causing me distress down below! He seemed to take his time standing in front of me taking in the goings-on around us. His left hand absently adjusted his genitals, slightly stretching his cock which appeared a might longer thereafter. The loose folds of skin on his shaft tightened as its girth expanded, not to erection or even semi erection, just filled out proportionate to its confines. As he went to shower I had to wonder if he was not putting himself on display to me. The need for a shower seemed peculiar considering he hadn't participated in any physical activity due to his injured knee. Or was it some kind of camaraderie amongst the boys strutting their naked bodies in front of each other. As I sat taking in the scenery I wondered if Jill was correct in his assumption that most guys had homosexual tendencies deep rooted in their brains. The display before my eyes was very erotic, guys pulled and stretched their members constantly, I saw many wandering eyes survey buddies privates, even the two wrestling were now on the floor in a very provocative position under the guise of wrestling, I was sure one was fully erect upon a captured moment of exposure. One of the towel flickers displayed a definite, uncaring semi! When Danny returned he sported his own semi-erect cock standing close at my side towelling off his hair. Twice he reached over me into his locker, his cock close enough to my face that with only a minor stretch of my neck I could have lifted his glory with my tongue and into my mouth. I actually thought about doing just that! I didn't care who was in the locker room to witness me giving Danny a blow job. The thought intrigued my horny state to the point where I would have gladly sucked off every one of the boys, picturing them impatiently waiting their turn as they stroked and primed themselves. Danny made no third pass over into his locker and I came to my senses. More boys had entered the locker room and the scene changed to that of normality, various states of dress and undress. The towel flickers and wrestlers had disappeared, the clusters of naked, chatting boys dispersed and Danny slid into his shorts and put on his sneakers tossing his socks and t-shirt into his gym bag. Was it all an illusion? A homo-erotic pigment of my imagination clearly defining my sexuality for what it was and always would be? The wet, squishy sensation I felt could not be denied, -- I had cum in my *Tommy* underwear! Danny owned a shag van in the literal sense. Carpeting surrounded every inch of the interior, floor to ceiling! I remembered an old 'Cheech & Chong' movie from the seventies' of a similar vehicle hazed in pot smoke seeping out every crevice of the structure. When he asked if I had to be home right away or if I wanted to stop and smoke some weed somewhere, I laughed and shared my funny thoughts with him. Danny parked at a shady spot by the river not too far from my fishing hole. We climbed over the seats into the plush back area. I assumed a seat on a fold down bench, he opted to sprawl on the floor with his back against a storage closet and located two pre-rolled joints from somewhere within another, wider fold up bench secured upright to the wall. Obviously the two put together formed a make shift bed the full width of the van. At the rear sat a small fridge with a built-in propane stove atop, a small sink embedded in a cabinet with limited storage above and below for cups, cutlery and plates. A fabricated raised ceiling allowed one to stand straight up and not hit their head. I thought the whole thing kewl and comfy. I choked on the first few pulls, not used to smoking. Danny came to my aide and introduced my to what he called the "Shot-Gun" technique. He took a long drag off the joint, inhaled, then put his lips to mine like a french kiss without the tongue and told me to inhale while he exhaled. It was remarkably smooth without that strong kick and by third time, resisting the urge to slip him the tongue, I had a fuzzy, happy, fuck the world feeling! I questioned in my mind if that wasn't a sexual innuendo, but as if he read my thoughts he relayed that a lot of people do that when their not used to smoking pot. He reached for the fridge and brought out two ice cold canned beer and after a few long gulps he reclined back on the floor. I nursed mine, feeling the wondrous effects of the weed. I was stoned as I ever had been before. Only a little over two hours ago I had snorted some coke, the combination had me flying high! I thought about asking Danny if he wanted a line but decided against it because my supply was getting low and if Jill was home he would freak all over again if he had none. Instead I blatantly asked Danny is he knew where to score some cocaine. "Hey little dude, ya don't wanna be messin' up your brain with chemicals! --Pot's okay cuz it's organic, man." he replied, not the response I hoped for but proceeded anyway. "Yeah... it's just recreational, ya know? I'm just asking if ya know where to score some for me... that's all." "Yeah, I know where to get it but that would be so fucking wrong... like, getting it for ya and all. That's bad shit after a while, little dude!" The conversation came to an abrupt end. Danny reached into a canvas magazine holder and brought out two porn mags, tossing one to me then kicking off his shoes and laying prone. His muscular bare chest and arms looked so inviting to snuggle up into. "Hope ya like em, I got a whole stash in here." he said with a devious smile, "This one's my favorite!" he raised the magazine, *'Blow Jobs' *read the cover, a picture of a woman sucking a rather large cock was portrayed. Mine was titled *'Bi Curious' *and had multiple pictures of guys and girls in an orgy environment. Page after page was female, female, male until mid section where males were sucking and fucking males. Strangely, those particular pages were dog-eared for obvious quick referral. Interesting! Danny slid a hand into his shorts and began playing with himself. I lost interest in the magazine, the eroticism live and four feet away had my full attention from the corner of my eye. "Fuck... one of these days I'm goin' downtown and gettin' me a whore! -- I'm so fucking horny... I could jerk off right now!" he moaned in a raspy voice. "I wanna bj so bad, ya know? Guys say it's even better than fucking!" My cock sprung alive. The crusty dried cum kinda hurt as my cock grew and broke free of my underewar . My own hand went into my jeans to relieve the 'paper-mache' like predicament. The words came from somewhere, unrehearsed and unprepared for the sudden event that was unfolding. I took my chances cautiously. "Go ahead of ya want to; -- that's kewl with me." I shrugged, urging him on. "Really, He slid his waist band down and exposed his beautiful already hard cock. Eight inches or so of prime, fat Italian sausage leaking its savory juices had me gaga! He was larger than Jillian in length and maybe slightly beefier in girth. His balls rested on his right thigh. A *Kodak *moment that I'll never forget! I was mesmerized and horny for it. I wanted it bad! "You've never had a blow job?... Gees, a jock like you?... Well... I thought you'd have plenty of chicks lined up ta do ya!" I played on his ego, "Ya know? -- Star football player and all." He looked at me with squinty eyes, horny written on his face as he stroked his oozing tool, fore finger and thumb slimy with pre-cum and replied, "Fuck no, little dude! I ain't lucky with the ladies... ya know, like some guys are?. They don't even look at me any -- cuz, like... I'm not really sure, maybe cuz I'm too short!" "So ya wanna go downtown and pay a hooker for a blow job?" I pushed. "That's pretty sad for a good looking guy like you!" "Well, yeah dude; but... I don't got the guts, ya know? Want it bad, but I... like, I chicken out half way there!" I seen my opportunity, at least I hoped it was. I gambled my reputation, the repercussions could be nasty but instinct told me that he was game for it, and maybe, just maybe I could blame it on the pot and beer if things went sour. "Um-- maybe I can help ya out,... ya know,... blow ya,-- I don't mind, I'd like to do it for ya. I'm pretty good at it and no one has to know..." "Hey little dude!..." he sat up red faced and tucked himself back in his shorts, "I'm not a fag!" I thought quick in my drug induced state, "I didn't say you were a fag. Just cuz another guy offers to help you out... what difference does it make?" "You've done that before?" he asked with disdain, scrambling to his feet, "Like... sucked cock?" I was perplexed. I thought sure he was coming on to me before then. All indications suggested it from my point of view. Boy, did I mis-read things! "I thought that's what you wanted... ya know, a blow job!" I lowered my head in shame. My life was finished as I knew it. Danny would tell everyone. I was already planning which school I would convince Grandma to send me to next year. Danny relaxed and sat down against the narrow closet again and sighed. "Sorry little dude, ya kinda took me by surprise.-- So ya really do suck cock? I mean... like gay is okay; I mean that and... well... fuck it! It's okay, no hard feelings?" "No hard feelings," I responded with embarrassment, "but I think I'll walk home now, you don't have to drive..." "No, no, dude -- sta...stay... please? Lets smoke another joint; I'll drive ya home, no worries, okay?" I could tell by his words and body language that he was re-thinking things. Jill was right; all guys wanted a blow job and when push came to shove they really didn't care who's mouth did the deed or where they planted their seed! I still had the inkling that Danny was maybe bi-curious, or even seriously closeted gay. Too many coincidences led me to believe that he was one way or the other although, frankly I had very limited experience with such things, just my assumptions. I recalled when Jill told me he had this certain 'sixth sense' about such things, perhaps it only takes one to know one is all! Danny knelt in front of me again and did the Shot Gun toke. His shorts were tented and a wet spot discolored the grey fabric. On our first 'innocent' lip locked exchange he put his arm loose around my neck. On the second exchange I did the same and reached down and fondled his large cock with my other hand. He gasped a loud sigh, his breathing became labored and accepted my tongue in his mouth but for only a short time. I understood fully; the implications of that was too much to soon for him and I didn't want to frighten him from progressing further. I was almost four years his junior and was seducing him and I wanted him desperately for unknown reasons. I entered his shorts and felt his velvety firmness and soft, hefty bollocks. He gasped, closed his eyes and his head went back as I squeezed the shaft then virtually used it to pull him to his feet. The shorts fell to the floor and he stood totally naked in front of me, I wasted no time tasting his wet, salty crown and savoring its copious offerings spilling out of a very large slit that I could actually insert the tip of my tongue into. "Holy fuck, Jacky!" he repeated several times, "I never... I never felt anything like it!" he cooed, knees trembling. I sucked and bathed each ball before going down on his long banana shaped tool and began giving him my best performance. It was over far to quick, his knees buckled and he went down after the first two volleys of sweet cum rewarded my palate. Like a greedy dog with a bone, I followed it to the floor sucking until the very last dribble was coerced up the shaft and rimmed out of the oddly deep pee hole. "Oh my fucking God that was something else, Jacky!" he uttered between gasps for air. "How can I ever... thank you. I mean, like... I don't know if I could ...ya know, return the favor that way. Not right now, anyway. I'm not sure, cause I've never really thought about it until lately. But I don't wanna be a fag... sorry, Jacky, I didn't mean to call you..." I took his cock out of my mouth and said, "It's okay, I didn't know that I was until lately either. Like maybe you're bi, or something; nothing wrong with that, just two guys having fun together." I tried to reassure him. "Maybe." was his unreadable response. He stretched out, lit a roach and smoked it while I passed on it and smoked his flaccid dick instead. I loved it soft in my mouth. His meat tasted different than Jill's, not better or worse, just an odd difference. His cum tasted nicer than Jill's tartness, however. He was coming back to life and I urged it on. I undid my jeans and freed myself to jerk off while I gave him his second blow job. Danny lifted his head to watch me do him and myself. A curious look appeared on his face, I knew it pertained to my lack of pubic hair that surprised him, but he didn't comment instead telling me to reposition so he could give me a hand job. Ten minutes later I gave him a second surprise, a hand sticky wet with cum that he gazed at probably wondering how I could ejaculate if I had no hair yet! Whatever it was seemed to turn him on because shortly thereafter he was blowing his own load into my wanton mouth as he shockingly sampled my goo off his fingers! Danny was quiet as he drove me home but he did thank me again. I assumed he was hashing things over in his head. I knew that feeling of confusion all too well. I was experiencing it again myself. I wondered if I could face him at school the following day, or if he would even acknowledge me. I was a total slut that day and was feeling down when I got home to an empty bedroom. He hadn't come home. A couple of lines refreshed me and I did some homework. I laid in bed thinking about Danny and how nice it would be to have him here holding me after a good long fuck session. I was craving someones bone up me, any ones! I satisfied my need somewhat with a plump, firm green banana from Grandma's fruit bow and jerked off with it up my ass. My thoughts took me back to the locker room and the naked teens. I was convinced that with a little prodding like Danny, they would be willing fuck buddies if the opportunity was presented. They all wanted it, but no one was brave enough to initiate something for fear of exposure; I had convinced myself of that. Perhaps I should find an after school activity and join the 'Naked Boys Club' and show them the way to their homo-sex subconsciousness! -- I came, and never once thought about Jillian's body. to be continued...