Date: Thu, 07 Mar 2024 17:19:57 +0000 From: butters2020 Subject: The Boardwalk part 3 (gay, young friends) It costs money to maintain Nifty. If you enjoy these stories, consider donating to help keep the site up and running. You can do it here: https://donate.nifty.org/ I enjoy getting feedback, If you like the story, please email me, and let me know. My email is butters2020@protonmail.com. If you didn't like the story, my ego couldn't stand it, so email someone else. Look for my other stories under the Prolific Authors page. The Boardwalk, part 3 By Butters2020 I still saw those exploding pinpricks of light when my eyes rolled into the back of my head but I didn't pass out this time. When I spewed my goo into the mouth on the other side of the blowhole I made weird cum noises. LOUD weird cum noises. I never do that when I jack it at home but the cums are never this intense when I'm only jacking it. I pulled away from the blowhole, panting like I just ran a race. "Willikers, Hank, not so loud!" Chet looked at the door to the blowhole closet. "You want us to get caught?" "Sorry, I couldn't help it. I don't know how you keep from yelling out. How long have you been doing this?" He pulled his pants down. "Since before I could squirt." He stuck his boner in the hole. "Rub my ass like you did last time. I like it." I grabbed his butt cheek and rubbed and squeezed it but after a second, he reached back and swatted my hand away. "What the fuck! No one's sucking me!" He backed out of the blowhole and got off the apple crate. He leaned over and peered through the hole. "I don't think anyone's back there. She left." "Are you sure?" I was sucked dry only three seconds ago. Chet stood on the apple crate and stuck his boner in the hole again. "Goddam it!" He pulled out again and turned around, his boner twitching. "That ain't fair. You got a blow. Where's mine?" I shrugged. Even though it was dark in the room my eyes had adjusted enough that I could see him leer at me. "You do it." he said. "No way." "It's only fair." "How do you figure that?" "You never would have got a blow if it wasn't for me. So now I should get a blow because of you." "It's not my fault the Hootchie girl left. She'll probably be back soon. Just wait a little bit and try again." "I ain't horny in a little bit, I'm horny now. Come on, just this once. I won't tell no one." I looked in the direction of the anteroom of the Freak Show. "You won't have to. Zoltan will know anyway." "Shit. That fraud don't know nothing. Don't be such a fucking Henry. If you don't do it, I won't take you back here no more." "You promise not to tell Clay?" "Willikers, Hank, you think I want him knowing I let a guy suck my dick? I ain't gonna tell no one!" He put his hand on my shoulders and pushed gently until I was sitting on the apple crate. Chet's boner was level with my face. Seeing it up close like this, I had a better view of the way the head curled down, like it was pointing to his balls. When I jacked on him under the boardwalk, I was careful not to look at it too much so he wouldn't guess my secret but now that it was right in front of me, I had a good excuse. "Go on, Hank. Put it in your mouth. Please?" My dick had been going down after I cummed but it was giving the ol' thumbs up again. Heck it was giving such a thumbs up it was ready to hitchhike to Atlantic City. I reached for Chet's balls. "Give me a minute. I never sucked anyone before. I gotta work up to it." "Just pretend you're a Hootchie girl and it won't be homo." I didn't want to pretend I was a Hootchie girl. Chet had more hair than me. His balls hung lower in their sack than mine did. I wondered if that meant he made more sperms than me. I tried to remember from when I jacked him under the boardwalk. "Tell me before you spew your goo," I said. "Don't worry." "I mean it. If you do it my mouth, I'll puke on you." I could tell he was going to squirt in my mouth until I said that. "For real. I promise." Even in the dim room the look on his face let me know he meant it. I took his boner in my hand. So far, I hadn't done anything I hadn't already done on the beach. I still had time to back out. But I knew in my heart I didn't want to. I stuck out my tongue and licked the underside of his pecker where the head curled. He didn't wait for me to get braver but pushed his whole boner into my mouth like it was the blowhole. If he was as big as what I saw of Clay's hardo through his swimsuit, it would have choked me but his boner was about the same size as mine. I tried to do the things the Hootchie girl did: running my tongue on the shaft of his pecker, and over the head, and sucking soft and sucking hard, and slobbering over it and swallowing. He really liked it when I licked under the head where it curled. I jacked on him while I licked and sucked him and then I used my other hand and played with his balls. "Willikers," he whispered. "The Hootchie never did that." I hope he meant that in a good way cuz I did it some more, pulling his nuts and using my finger to rub at the back of his sack where it met his body. "Aw fuck, Hank rub it harder. Gord, that's amazing." Spit was running down my chin. I wiped some onto my finger and then rubbed him harder back behind his nutsack on that little area between his nuts and his butt hole and he started doing the big bad wolf, huffing, and puffing. I sucked on just the head of his pecker, really lapping at it with my tongue while I sucked him. Then the head of his pecker started wiggling back and forth like a finger saying, 'come here' and he said, "pull off, pull off I'm cumming!" I spit out his boner but kept jacking on him and rubbed his nuts-to-butt spot even harder. It was like a little bridge connecting his balls to his asshole. Suddenly he grabbed both his nipples and pinched and twisted them while he huffed and puffed and spewed his goo. Since my face was right there, he blasted his sperms all over my mouth and nose. I might as well have let him spew in my mouth. I turned my head and spit on the ground, but I kept jacking on him. Then I wiped his sperms off my face and when they were in my hand, I grabbed my own boner and jacked it, using his sperms to jack on my pecker, like he had me do on his under the Boardwalk. Just like then, it was so nasty and so hot at the same time that I started to make the loud cum noises again when I spewed. I was so loud that Chet stuck his boner in my mouth again just to shut me up. Even though there were still sperms coming out of his dick I didn't care. I licked and swallowed them while I finished my second load in ten minutes. He pulled it out of my mouth. We both just panted for a minute. "God damn, Hank. Who needs a Hootchie girl?" I was already feeling ashamed. "You do. That was a one-time thing, remember? I ain't no fucking homo." "All right, calm down. Neither am I. Come on, let's get a cotton candy, on me. You must need to get the taste of dick out of your mouth." We passed Zoltan on the way out of the Freak Show. I avoided eye contact and thought I'd made it safely past him but then I felt his hand on my shoulder. I didn't want to, but I turned around. Those scary black eyes stared into mine. He leaned forward, closing the distance between us. More than anything I wanted to look away but couldn't. "You cannot close your mind to Zoltan. You have no secrets from me." He put his lips next to my ear and whispered, "I know. I know all." "Please don't tell," I whispered back. "Please. I'll do anything." Chet had turned to see what was keeping me. "Get bent, Zoltan. Come on, Hank, ignore him. Is he spouting that bullshit about how he sees all? Knows all? The fog of the future is clearing before his gaze?" Zoltan pointed a long bony finger at Chet. "It doesn't take a mystic to see your future: Iron bars. Manacles. An untimely end in a pauper's grave." "Yeah? See if you can see through this fog, Swami." Chet mooned him and farted. I gasped. Zoltan was going to put a curse on him for sure. Maybe that's why his boner is curled up at the end. Zoltan already put a pecker hex on him. We were in line at Curley's Cotton Candy when Clay bumped into us. I don't mean we saw him. I mean he bumped into me like he didn't see me there. Chet smirked and said, "Check your wallet." I patted my back pocket. It was empty. Clay grinned and gave me my wallet back. "I'm coming to the beach on Saturday for your next lesson," he said. I started to make an excuse but he cut me off. "No argument," he said, and walked away. Chet said, "It took me a solid year of begging and whining to get him to teach me the trade. What have you got on him?" I shrugged. "I taught him to fish." Chet gave me a sideways look. "I don't believe it. Is that all?" I shrugged again. We were at the counter now and gave Curley our order. He put a carboard tube into the spinning gizmo and colored sugar magically clung to it in long gossamer strands. I reached behind me to put my wallet back in my pocket but something was there already, sticking up. I pulled it out. It was a rolled-up copy of JR, the boy's guide to physical fitness. I shoved it in my front pocket before Chet could see what it was. I turned around. Clay was already half-way down the boardwalk. He looked over his shoulder at me, smiled, and tossed me a wink and a flipflop. When I got home, I went straight to my room and opened the JR magazine. In the souvenir stand I flipped through it so fast I just got a quick look at the pictures. Now I was able to take my time. "Oh man," I said out loud when I saw the first page. A boy only a couple years older than me and Chet hung from a pullup bar. His armpit hairs weren't as thick as Clay's. They looked more like the sparse hairs over my dick. By the time I got to page three I'd kicked off my shorts and was jacking on my boner. At first, I just rubbed my foreskin over the head but then I slid the skin back past the heck of my pecker. I needed three hands: One to hold the magazine, one to jack on my boner, and one to try to rub on the "bridge" between my nuts and my butt hole, like I'd done for Chet. He liked it so much when I did it to him that I wanted to see how it felt. I was up to the eight pages in vivid color. One of the boys had a boner under his little Tarzan loin cloth! You could tell! I stopped jacking to just rub the nut-to-butt hole bridge and holy crap, the harder I rubbed the better it felt, even though I wasn't jacking. I wondered if I could spew my goo just doing that. Then I thought, if it feels this good pushing on that bridge from outside, what does it feel like pushing on it from the inside? I spread my legs and reached between them until I felt my butt hole. I tried to put my finger inside it, which would be nasty and gross if I wasn't so horned up, but right then the more I thought about doing it, the more my boner twitched. I tried to push my finger inside me but it didn't want to go in. I pushed harder but it hurt. I needed to make it slick. I sucked my finger. When it was wet with spit, I reached between my legs again and this time I was able to put my finger up my butthole. It was nearly impossible not to groan. I gave up holding the magazine and propped it on the pillow next to my head, open to the vivid color picture of the boy with the boner. I turned my head so I could see the picture while I used the finger up my butt to push up against the nut-to -butthole bridge. I nearly spewed my goo right then. Since I wasn't holding the magazine anymore, I was free to grab my boner. I kept pushing up against my bridge from inside my butt while my other hand flew up and down my hard dick. The next thing I know, I can't see the magazine anymore because my eyes are rolling into the back of my head. All I can see are pinpricks of light exploding in my brain at the same time my pecker is exploding sperms all over my hairs and even past my hairs and onto my belly button. When I woke up a few seconds later my finger was still up my ass. Clay wore trousers Saturday. He said it was to help me with my lesson, that it was easier to pick pants pockets than shorts pockets and most bathing suits didn't have pockets at all. We'd gone down past the house next door, so we couldn't be seen from Gram's house if anyone looked out the window. "Until you get proficient, don't try to dip wallets you can't see. Go for ones that are poking out of the back pocket. Like this." He turned around and I saw the top edge of a wallet poking out of his hip pocket. Man, his butt is hot. He turned around again. "And don't try to put your whole hand in my pocket. Just two fingers." He made an upside-down V and opened and closed his fingers like they were chopsticks or kitchen tongs. He said, "Don't feel like you have to be super-fast. That's a sure way to caught. And if the mark is leaning over a table or something, it stretches his pants over his ass, closing any gaps in the pocket. Wait till he's standing up straight so the pocket is looser. Ready to give it a try?" He looked out at the ocean, like he was a rube too focused on scenery to pay attention to anything else. I walked up behind him. He said, "If you have to, you can bump into me, like I did to you yesterday. It's less noticeable when there's a crowd of people. They tend to jostle each other anyway. When you bump against the mark, use your knee or hip to nudge the wallet up even further out of the pocket." Clay was wearing pants that were looser than he normally wore, to make the pocket less snug. These were his pick-pocket-training-pants. I made an upside-down V with my fingers and eased them into his pocket. I grabbed the wallet and lifted it. It came halfway out, but then I lost my grip and it fell onto the sand. "Dang it!" I said. "Not bad for your first try. If that happens on the boardwalk you don't wanna holler, 'dang It' though. Just keep walking and the mark will think it fell out of his pants." He repocketed the wallet. "Try again." After an hour I got to where I could do it every time, Clay said he didn't feel anything, but I think he was just being nice. He said, "Okay, now let's try the front pocket, which is a little harder." He explained how he paid attention to marks when they shopped. "Some of them don't mess with wallets but shove their money in their front pockets, trying to protect themselves from people like me." He tossed me a wink and my stomach flipflopped. "It doesn't work. So, suppose you're scoping me out." That won't be hard to suppose, I thought. "And you see me put this in my pocket." He holds up a couple of twenty-dollar bills. He put them in his front pocket. "First let's just see how you do with what you've learned so far." He stood watching the ocean again, with his hands behind his back. "Don't be scared. You probably won't get it the first few tries but you learn as much when you fuck up as you do when you get it right." I hesitated. How would I pick his front pocket without him seeing me? He nodded encouragingly. I nodded back and walked up next to him. Don't rush, I told myself. I looked at his pocket and it was gaping open. I could see a corner of one of the bills. I said, "Is there a crowd of people around us?" "Sure," he said. "But don't try to bump a mark when he has cash shoved in his pocket. It only works with wallets and back pockets." I made the upside-down V with my fingers and eased them into his pocket. I couldn't feel the money so I slid more of my hand into his pocket. I could feel his thigh through his pants and I jerked my hand out. "No fast movements, Hank. Don't worry about getting caught right now. Just get the money without worrying if I feel it or not." "Okay." I slid my hand back into his pocket. I felt his thigh again but kept going deeper into his pocket toward the money. My fingers brushed against his pecker and I froze. "Don't worry about it. Get the money," he said. Unlike Clay, I was wearing swim trunks. He was still looking out at the ocean but as soon as he looked down at me, he'd see my twitching boner. "Hank, the money's right there. Just take it." I put my hand further into his pocket. He said not to worry about being detected so I kind of wiggled my fingers, trying to find the damn twenty-dollar bills. They still eluded me but I felt more of his dick. At night in bed, I thought of doing homo stuff with him and here I was going homo on him by accident. I was so boned up, if he saw it he'd known I was queer for him. I took my hand out of his pocket. I tried to run up to the house but he was ready for me this time and grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place. "Let me go," I said, and then I was crying like a pussy. "Please let me go." Without letting go of my shoulder he grabbed my arm with his other hand and kneeled next to me. "I don't understand, Hank. Sometimes you seem happy to be with me. Other times you seem scared or sad when you're with me. Am I doing something wrong?" "No." "Then what's the matter?" "Ask the fortune teller," I said through my tears. "He knows. He knows all about me." "Zoltan? His real name is Frank Alberti and he couldn't predict the sun coming up tomorrow. He doesn't know anything." I was still facing the house, ready to run as soon as he loosened his grip. He turned me around so I was facing him. "I hate to see you this way, Hank. Especially if it's because of me. Won't you tell me what's wrong?" He took his hand off my shoulder and used it to wipe the tears off my cheek but he still held my arm so I couldn't run away. "I'm a homo, Clay," I bawled. "I try not to be, but I am. I don't look at that magazine to do physical fitness. I look at it when I jack one off. Every picture in it gives me a boner." I took a breath. "Touching your pecker gave me a boner. All I do is get boners over hot guys. I'm sorry. I don't blame you for hating me, but please don't tell Chet. I won't come to the Boardwalk anymore if you don't want me to, but can you tell him it's because my dad won't let me? Please?" I cried harder. I was ashamed that he knew what I was. I was sad at the thought of never going to the boardwalk again. I was scared of Chet finding out about me. So many feelings fought to claim responsibility for my tears. Clay wiped me cheek again. "Oh Hank," he said. He rubbed my back. "The world isn't a very nice place for people like us." "Are you alright, son? Is that boy bothering you?" I didn't see the man and woman walking down the beach until they were almost on top of us. They were the people renting the house next to Gram's. "We're fine," Clay said. Pop won't let us go to the boardwalk and my brother is upset." The old man made a face like someone farted. "Sound decision if you ask me. We were there last night and my wallet was lifted right out of my pocket. You're better off right here. Father knows best, I say." They walked up to the back door of their rental house and went inside. Another couple was walking toward us, holding hands. Great someone else to see me crying like a pussy. "This isn't very private," Clay said. "You wanna take a walk?" I nodded but then stared at him. "People like us?" He tossed me a wink. "Let's take a walk." Clay kept his arm over my shoulder as we walked down the beach, but not to keep me from running away. More like a protective big brother. We'd taken our shoes off and tied the laces together and carried them as we walked on the wet sand, the waves breaking over our feet. Clay didn't care that his pants were getting wet. He said, "Zoltan doesn't know shit, but you didn't tell ME anything I didn't already know." I looked up at him. He gave me shoulder a squeeze. "I don't teach kids I just meet the tools of my trade just because they give me a fishing lesson. We're kindred souls Hank. I've had you under my wing ever since the first day you were on the boardwalk. Even before I sucked you off at the blowhole." "That was you?" "Every time." "But the Hootchie girls!" "Don't know the blowhole is there." We walked in silence, getting further away from the beach houses. I said, "Chet told me he's been getting sucked since before he could spew his goo." Clay blushed. "I was your age when I knew I liked boys. Other than a couple of sailors who blew me in the hotel cabanas. I didn't have anywhere to take my feelings. Then even the cabanas weren't safe. A sailor got arrested when he tried to blow an undercover cop at one of them. That cured me of hanging out around them." He stopped walking and stared out over the sea, like he was looking at someplace he wanted to be. "The world isn't a very nice place for people like us, Hank," he repeated. "I kept my feelings bottled up for two years. I did all the things I bet you're doing. I prayed to be normal. I tried to like girls. Nothing works, Hank. We are what we are. You may as well accept it." He squeezed my shoulder again. "Finally, I couldn't hold in my feelings anymore," he went on. "I used a hole saw on the wall of the closet between the Freak show and the Hootchie Hut. I was fourteen. Chet was ten. I'm not proud of what I did, but I told him about the blowhole and said a Hootchie girl would be on the other side at one o'clock. I let him think I was out working the crowd but I was in the closet, waiting for him. I'd had a few blowjobs but had never sucked anyone else till Chet stuck his little two incher through the blowhole." "I wish I was your brother," I said. That lucky guy, getting blows since he was ten! "You scared the shit out of me when you passed out when I sucked you the first time." "What did you expect? You gotta be the best dick sucker in the world!" He disguised his voice, imitating Chet. "Willikers!" I laughed. Then he said, "After I ate your cum the other day, I was too fucking horny to suck off Chet. I had to bust a nut. That's why I didn't blow him when he stuck his hardon through the hole. I was too busy jerking off. Then when you sucked him? Jesus, Hank, that was hotter than fuck. I can't remember the last time I nutted that hard." My face grew hot. "You saw that?" "Are you kidding? Now I see it every time I rub one out." He tossed me a wink. We were alone on an undeveloped section of the beach. This is where I'd told Dad I'd been hunting for sand dollars. "Clay?" "Hank?" "Since you've seen my boner...out of my pants I mean..." "And tasted it," he reminded me. That gave me the ol' thumbs up down there. "Yeah. So, you've seen and tasted my hardo but I've only seen yours through your shorts at our first lesson." "A few minutes ago, you did more than just see it." I blushed. "Yeah, but that wasn't really feeling it because it was only with my fingertips and only for a second. Even if it counts as feeling it, I didn't see it." I swallowed. "Do you think I could see it for real?" I didn't mean here in public but he undid his pants and pulled them down. "Like this?" he said, For the first time I got to see his pecker. He had a real bush, not the stragglers and strays I had around my dick, which was throbbing. Clay's dick was soft but it was as big as my boner even though it was soft. The part of him that's covered by shorts was paler than the rest of him, which was suntanned. But his pecker and balls looked like they had a suntan, too. They were a little darker than the rest of his skin. Like Chet, he didn't have his foreskin. The head of his pecker didn't curl down. It was beautiful. Even though this section of beach was deserted, seashell collectors or other beachcombers would see us. "What if someone sees?" "No one comes to this part of the beach. But just in case someone does, let's really give `em something to see." He grabbed his pecker and started jacking on it and it got thicker and harder until he'd jacked it up to a boner. I would never be able to suck on Clay like I did Chet. He was huge. If you put Chet's and my boners side by side, Clay's boner was still bigger around and as for the length-- "It's a foot long!" I said. He laughed. "Exactly half that," he said. "But thanks." "Can I touch it?" "Only if I can touch yours. You brave enough to take it out? Even though imaginary people can see it when they hypothetically walk by?" He tossed me a wink but I already had the flipflops. "I ain't no Henry. I'm Hank." I said, pulling down my swim trunks. He ran his fingers along my boner. "Man, I dig your skin," Clay said. He got on his knees and sucked me into his mouth. "I'm supposed to be touching you!" I said but then I couldn't talk anymore. I could only make the noises I made at the blowhole. But this was different. There was no wall blocking him from doing all the things he wanted to do. He didn't just lick and suck my boner. He sucked on my nuts, running his tongue over my sack, making me quiver all over. He paused long enough to ease me onto the sand. When I was on my back he lifted my legs, exposing my butthole. No one had ever seen it before, and this was a closeup view. I was suddenly embarrassed. He brushed the sand off my butt and HOLY CRAP! He licked the bridge between my nuts and my butthole and then he licked my hole! The noises I made when he did that were a hundred times louder than when I cummed in the blowhole closet. While he kept licking my butt hole he took his hand and put it up my shirt and just rubbed my tummy and chest. Then his fingers were pinching my tits, and I knew why Chet had squeezed and twisted his nipples when he spewed his goo on my face. It felt incredible. I wanted to tell Clay how good he was making me feel but I could only make those noises. The more noises I made the more he licked at my butt hole and pinched my tits and then his other hand was jacking on my boner. I didn't think it could get any better until he stuck his tongue INSIDE my butt hole and then my eyes were rolling into the back of my head and I saw pinpricks of light exploding in my brain and my pecker was exploding. Clay was calling my name and tapping my cheek and I opened my eyes. He wasn't tapping my cheek with his hand like Chet does, He was tapping it with his boner. I grabbed it and pulled it to my mouth. I didn't care that it would choke me if I managed to get it in my mouth. I could only choke on it if I could get it in my mouth and there was no way. But I could still lick it. Which is what I did. First, I jacked on it and instead of spewing his goo he leaked introductory-goo which was really cool. I licked it up. I opened my mouth as wide as it would go. I was determined to at least suck the head of his boner into my mouth. "Ow. Teeth, Hank! Watch the teeth." "I'm sorry," I said, and I was. I felt terrible. "You're so big. I can't do it right." I tried again, more carefully. He tried not to, but he said Ow twice more before gently taking his boner from my mouth. "It's okay, Hank. We can work up to it." "But I want to make you spew your goo!" I said. "You can jack me off. Or we could...No, I don't want to hurt you. Jack me off, Hank." "You won't hurt me. What else can we do?" "We'll work up to fucking, too." I thought of Mark and Katie fucking. "How? I don't have a pussy." "A guy can fuck another guy in the butt. My dick isn't huge, but it would hurt you if I stuck it up yoru ass. Let's wait till another time to--" "Are you kidding? You can push my bridge with your boner? Do it! Fuck my butt hole!" "Push your bridge?" I told him about my nut to butthole bridge. I even reached behind his balls and pushed on his to show him what I meant. "But as good as it feels pushing it from the outside, it feels ten times better to push it from inside." I remembered how Chet compared jacking on it to getting a blow job and recycled his analogy. "Pushing it from outside is like eating a baloney sandwich but fucking my butthole would be like eating Thanksgiving dinner. Clay, you gotta do it." "Thanksgiving, huh?" he smiled. "Only if you're sure. I'll stop if it hurts." "Don't be a dope. No one stops eating Thanksgiving until it's time for dessert." He took off his shirt and put it on the sand and I re-bonered as soon as I saw him 100% naked. "Sit on my shirt so you won't get sand up your ass." I did. "Between the rim job you got and all that spit you put on my cock, I may be lubed up enough. Do you want to find out?" "Yes! Do it!" My boner was twitching so hard it hurt. I grabbed my knees and pulled my legs back so he could get to my butt easier. I no longer cared if he got a closeup view of my shitter. He spit on my butthole and my boner twitched and I whimpered, knowing what was coming. He straddled me like he was gonna do pushups over me and I thought this was the only boy's guide to physical fitness I needed. He grabbed his boner and aimed it between my legs and I reached down and grabbed it too. Both of our hands were on it, like we were sharing it. He eased his boner inside me. It was almost too much. His boner was so much bigger around than my finger had been. It stretched me open when he pushed it inside me but it felt so good when it rubbed against the nut-to-butthole bridge. I made a noise that was half moan and half I don't know what. "You okay, Hank?" "Uh huh." I said, because I couldn't say anything else. "Good. Cuz you feel fucking awesome. Goddam you're tight." He slid his boner out of me some but then pushed it right back in and I couldn't believe how awesome it felt. "Oh Gord, Clay, what are you doing to me?" I gasped. He kept doing the in and out but sped up. When he pushed it back in me now it went in deeper. He groaned and answered me. "I'm fucking you, baby. Do you like it?" "Yeh," I panted. "I like it a lot." I grabbed his butt and tried to pull him all the way inside me. He got the idea and really shoved it in. His hardo did more than just rub my bridge. It pushed some kind of goo spewing button in my body and even though I didn't spew my goo my boner--no, my cock--was throbbing like I was cumming. "Clay Clay Clay Clay" All I could do was moan his name while he fucked me, slamming his cock against the magic spot inside me until my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I was spewing for real and all I could see was the familiar pinpricks of light exploding in my brain as sperms shot out my cock and somewhere far away I heard Clay calling my name and I woke up and he was fucking me still and I swear I spewed again and saw more pinpricks of light. I'd only moaned his name but he hollered mine and he shoved his giant boner all the way in me and I felt him spewing inside me. I grabbed his butt and held him close while he filled me with his sperms. When his balls were empty he flopped down on top of me and kissed my face and tits and kept saying my name and telling me how amazing I was. It took us a few minutes to catch our breath. Then we ran naked into the ocean to wash the goo off us. I'd never been skinny dipping before. Instead of just rinsing off and getting dressed, we ended up swimming and horsing around for an hour. I loved watching him. Finally, he said we should get dressed and head back before Dad missed me. As we walked to the house he said, "Wednesday Apollo 11 blasts off. You gonna be at the boardwalk or home watching the rocket launch on TV?" "This morning, I figured I'd watch it on TV but now I don't have to." "How come?" I tried to toss him a wink but I think I only looked like I had palsy. "Too boring. I've already been to the moon. The rocket that took me was a foot long even though the pilot told me it was only half that size. All I know is it took me to the stars and back." "You're a regular poet, Shakespeare." "Dad's coming up tonight instead of Friday. I won't be at the boardwalk for a few days." "I only met your dad once, when I gave him your knife and keys. I don't know him but I hate him for keeping you away." Me, too, I thought, but didn't say it out loud. Even when he wasn't here, Dad still kept me in line. Clay said, "I'll tell Chet we'll see you Monday."