CHAPTER 20: BLISS

 

Fox & David (1996)

SPANKING THE MONKEY

It was a warm summer afternoon, and I was in the woods behind the recreation center in Combes buffing my banana.  At seventeen, that was still my favorite activity.  It was a Sunday, but unlike most Sundays where the park was empty and I was left to myself to enjoy the pool, on this day there was a whole group of guys playing a pick-up game of basketball, and a mixture of teens, a family with little kids, and several old folks from the trailer park in the pool.  There were a few guys there that were hot as hell and I was horny from glance one.  There was not option put to toss a load or ride my bike home stiff the whole way.  I didn't like the chances of getting caught in the shower or the restroom, so I'd made my way back through the unkept weeds and bushes to the wooded area behind the recreation area.

Masturbation, jacking off, pounding my pud, choking the chicken, spanking the monkey, whatever you want to call it, in the final analysis, it's all about pumping out a load of sperm while those intense sensations like nothing else in the world, washes through your brain and body, the pit of your stomach flutters, your balls disappear up inside you, an all your teen spirit shoots out like a small but pressurized fire hose.

If you know me, or have read anything I have written about growing up, you know my big secret that was really not a secret at all in my hometown or my school.  I was born with a micropenis.  Unlike some guys who small penis doesn't function, mine was small but worked just fine. So most of my self esteem issues were wrapped up in the social stigma attached to having a small dick, and having it known.  High school kids have no empathy and Fox tease anyone who is the least bit different.  Having a big dick, at least in our culture in the 1990's was associated with being a real man.  Muscles were important, at least where I lived, in a small town in Texas, a hairy chest figured as a significant sign of manhood too, at least to teens.  But having a big dick was he factor that got your crowned king.  A small dick meant you were doomed to be ridiculed, never to be taken seriously by peers for anything you do, or whatever you accomplish.  It also meant guys, who knew they were bigger, inevitably assumed the role of alpha male around you.  It's true!

But back to spanking the monkey...  Ever since I discovered that immensely pleasurable activity, I've been hooked. I always loved to be naked when I jerk off.  Jerking off in pajamas, or just unzipped somehow stifled the whole process.  Getting naked almost invariably would give me a bone.

I was probably about 5 when I discovered that it felt good to play with and manipulate my little boner. I didn't know what I was doing, but I knew it felt good to have an erection and to tickle it. But it wasn't until I was about 10 or 11 that my brother, Chuck, showed me how to "jack off." After my first adolescent pre-cum orgasm, I was obsessed.  I've told you all about Chuck already, what an asshole, but he was the one who showed me how to jack off properly.  Even before I could shoot, I experienced pre-cum orgasms, I'm not sure what else to call them.  They went on for a lot longer than orgasms when you blast a load.  But Chuck wanted nothing to do with me jerking off around him, so I inevitably had to either go to the restroom or shower, where I would inevitably get interrupted and made fun of, go climb up into our tree house (where I'd also found some magazines Chuck had used unquestioningly used when spanking his big monkey.  I also discovered that "camping out", meaning pitching a tent in the backyard and crashing in a sleeping bag, ws less likely to get me caught.  But the very best was to go into the wooded area behind our house and go for it.  Being naked in the woods made it even better.  Don't ask me why, but it did.  One night, out in the woods, I jacked off four times.  Our dog found me and sat there watching with a confused expression and his head at an angle.  My little cock was so sore the next morning I thought I might have damaged it, but obviously, it got better fast.

I jacked off many, many more times after that. Probably more often in the tree house, because it was easy to hear someone climbing up the ladder, and during the time it was a rope ladder, I could pull it up to keep anyone from even thinking about interrupting me.  I never got tired of it.

When I was about 11, maybe 12 and was just beginning to start puberty, proudly showing off a few hairs "down there" when I had my first wet dream. In my wet dreams I was always in Chuck's arms and could feel his hairy chest rough against my back and his hard erection pressing into my lower back.  In my dreams his fingers felt heavenly on my little dick.  The worst thing about the wet dreams, and it was the same every time: I let my hands drop away and allowed Chuck to explore my cock.  He always seemed to be very surprised at how short my shaft was,  and would always say, every time, "I don't think I was ever that small," then added, "I think even Mark is bigger".  He was talking about my younger brother, Mark.   "Even Mark is bigger" would repeat over and over, and he would say it so loudly I was afraid our mom would hear him talking and know he was talking about my penis.  The dream had a second reason for haunting me.  Sometimes it was a "different" kind of wet dream, and I would wake up having pissed the bed. 

As you can imagine, I had mixed emotions about the whole dream thing. On the one hand it was very humiliating to wake up in a wet bed, but on the other hand, it felt so good every time I shot. And as you know, the shots kept getting stronger and stronger, even when they were cum dreams instead of piss dreams, and my underwear kept getting soggier and soggier as my loads got bigger and bigger.

I was very young when I began my research into the many ways to spank my monkey. My brother showed me what he did and other guys sometimes told me what they did, and I kind of experimented with different variations over the next couple of years.  My chief method had been to get naked, which almost always gave me an instant hard, and lay down on my back and using my thumb and forefinger begin to rub my cock furiously until I came.  Sometimes I would take some lotion and put it in the palm of my hand then art making circles with my palm over the tip of my woody.

When it was good and slippery I would take his my fingers and slowly rotate around the head of my little cock.   What got to be more and more true, once I started having "wet orgasms" was that the time it took me to shoot got pretty short indeed.   Normally when I Jack off, stroking my cock makes my balls bounce.  It always was interesting to watch how my cock would bounce up and down against me when I got really hard.  It would do it on it's own too, but if I tightened my muscles, the same feeling as trying to shut off the flow of urine, I could control it.    My cock head was always so sensitive, which I have always attributed to being uncut.  If I wanted to make it last longer I would do the swirling thing with my palm instead of jerking my pud with my fingers, softly, slowly, all the time watching my pub bouncing, which back then i used to say my dick was "dancing" when it did that.    I would do that a while, then stop and let my dick dance, then swirl my wet palm some more, then dance, on and on.   Now I know they call it edging, but I didn't know that word back then.    My biggest motivation for edging was the enormous amount i would shoot when I did that, and it would shoot a long, long ways, making a real mess, but also feeling so, so good!

Anyways that was what I was doing out in the woods when Fox caught me.

David JO Pic (1996)

A ZIPLESS FUCK

My wank session was arrested by the sudden discovery that I wasn't alone. About a year older, he was a tanned muscular boy, about my height, leaning against a tree about thirty feet away and grinning broadly.  Barefoot, shirtless, and dressed in a pair of faded and torn 501 Levis with two buttons unfastened, he had that unmistakable bad boy look that should make you run but never does.  He had a  patch of dark chest hair with a dark trail that went all the way down.  I didn't know anyone with as much chest hair as that except for my friend Ken, and half the time his was shaved or trimmed or swim meets.  I had seen him there at the pool, and I had sure noticed him, but we had never spoken, but I had never noticed him to have any sort of interest in me.

I stood there paralyzed, my wet palm no longer making circles against the tip of my little boner.

"No worries, dude.  I was watching your technique and thinking about joining you."  He teasingly unfastened two more buttons.

I was speechless.  He unfastened the last button and pulled out his tool. A good eight inches or more, and it was already hard.  We would measure it later.

"Guess you turned me on with what you were doing."  He stroked it a couple times.

"Come on over here."  An invisible rope slowly pulled me in his direction.   I stood there, still embarrassed, looking directly into his dark teasing eyes.

"What's your name?" he inquired.

"David," I stammered.

"I'm Fox," he informed me.  "I've seen you around.  Seen you at the pool.  I live with my grandpa in the trailer park.  We just moved there this summer."  Later on, I would learn from his grandfather that his real name was "Danny Bliss," though Fox was his Carney name.

He reached out his hand to shake mine, or so I thought, but instead he brazenly put it around my boner and stroked it a couple times.   I gasped.  My knees nearly failed me.  And I immediately unloaded.

I had been edging so it was an especially big load, and it sent quite a distance, arcing through the air and splattering on brush and leaves carpeting the floor of the woods.  This prompted a "whoop" out of Fox, who nevertheless didn't let go.  He kept stroking until my last shot fell into the dead leaves and grass.

"Damn, Buddy!"  he exclaimed, "You're a quick shooter!"

I was speechless, panting, embarrassed.

"Hey," he said, his expression shifted like he'd suddenly thought of something.  "Wait here," he said, and then as if to make sure, he grabbed up my pants and took them with him.  I started after him, but he was out of the woods and heading back to the recreation center before I caught up.  There were too many people there to chase him out in the open, especially still covered in cum.  Oh yeah, boner's bounce ridiculously when you run, too.

I heard the drone of a motorcycle engine  He was on a Honda, and I saw him making his way slowly down a path a ways from me and around to the back of the wooded area where I was.

"You got my pants?”  It was the first thing I asked.  I was trying to be nonchalant about it, but honestly, being naked while some stranger had my pants there by the recreation park was embarrassing me.  

He sort of ignored me, but patted his backpack like an afterthought.  It was zipped up tight and strapped to his Honda.   He stared at me for a long time with a serious expression, which transformed into a bad-boy-frat-boy smile, then softened. 

I feigned patience and said, “You look like a man with a plan.”   I started, "But really, I . . . "

"B.C."  He said,  interrupting me.  Later I learned was his jargon for "be cool."  Then he said, "That was quite a show!" Be laughed and pointed at my penis, still erect despite the situation, "Especially for a guy with a squeeter!"

"What's a squeeter?" I asked, suspecting I knew, but wasn't sure what else to say.

He got off his Honda and walked over to me.  "You, little baby dick,"  he laughed, as he walked around behind me, circling me, but it was a bit odd, not the laugh of full ridicule, but rather of good natured teasing. 

The next thing I knew he grabbed me from behind and wrapped one arm around my chest, pinning my right arm to my side.  Before I could react he had grabbed my erection again, and started pumping furiously at my short shaft.  He whispered in my ear "Just so happens I like squeeters," he breathed into my ear as he continue to stroke me with his fingers, "especially on you."  He spoke like someone who had never had a confidence crisis in his life.  Every nerve ending in my boner was tingling with pleasure.

In a few short strokes I shot again.  It was like my first time with Billy. There was no controlling it.

He watched my spirit shooting out in arcs from over my shoulder.  Then after I stopped, he turned me around and pulled me into a tight hug, holding me close against him. I felt the rest of the world slip away.  His hands were sipping up and down my back from shoulder to ass.  He took hold of my hair and guided my head, buried my face against his neck and all I could do was breath in his scent. I could feel his five o'clock shadow tickle the side of my face. The sounds of the park went silent and the only sound was our breathing.  Gently, he touched the side of my face. I looked into his eyes. I saw nothing but hunger, nothing menacing, just hunger.  There was nothing soft or gentle about that first kiss.  It was rough and feral, the kind of kiss that goes on and on, gradually becoming more urgent.  I felt his tongue brush my lips.  A kiss between men.  Not gentle.  A release. My lips parted against the onslaught of his mouth and tongue, and  our tongues dance around each other.  His taste was rugged and rich.   The scent of a man.  My breath got ragged as I gasped for air between kisses. I ran my hands through his hair and pulled him closer into me. His hair brushed my face. His arms around me pulled me tighter. I feel his fingers dig into my back. My hands roam down his shoulders,  And I feel his heart pounding in his chest as he nuzzled my neck and whisper," I want to cum inside you."

Erica Jong had written about the "Zipless Fuck" but I had never truly experienced it until that day.  Fox had me hooked.  I managed to nod my head up and down.

Fox pulled off my jeans, reached between my legs, and started playing with my asshole.  I liked it, so I spread my legs to give him more access.

"Let's try this," he said with a smile.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tube and spread some stuff on his middle finger.

This time his finger went inside me and began to explore.  I got hard again immediately.  I moaned as he found the pleasure spot.  It felt pretty good, and my boner was starting to leak despite having just cum twice for him.  A couple of fingers went in.  It hurt a little, but the pleasure was much greater than the pain.

"Like that, Buddy?"  My head nodded up and down again.

"I can make it feel even better.  Want me to do that?"

"Y-y-yes!"  I couldn't help myself.

This time it was his bare boner that he lubed.

I was becoming uneasy at where this was going and started to get up.  He pushed me back gently with a smile.

"You're gonna love it, Buddy," he assured me.

Fox hadn't taken off his jeans yet.  I think he knew that I would bolt like a scared rabbit if he took the time to do that.  He wanted to score, and we both knew it.  I was still very hesitant about all of this.  I was also becoming highly aroused as I watched him stroking his lubed boner, the largest I had yet seen.  The head was narrower than the shift, which got fat in the middle, even fatter at the base.  It was straight, not curved like Billy or Ray's dicks.  And it sort of slanted downward under its own weight, rather than pointing up or out, and despite my misgivings my brain chemistry had become altered.  Suddenly, the idea of having him inside me seemed absolutely urgent.  I spread my legs, casually put my arms around his torso, and smiled up at him.

"OK, Fox." I invited. 

With that invitation, he now took the time to remove his jeans.  Then he moved me over close to his bike and took out a blanket to spread on the ground.  He took out a small container of Vaseline and lubed his massive penis.  Then put me on my knees, face down and positioned his boner.  I could feel it pressing against the entrance.

"Relax, Buddy."  I relaxed and the head popped in.  I moaned with pleasure as he probed around just inside my hole.  It seemed to fill me, and when I was sure there was no more room inside me, with one long slow thrust, he pushed all the way in.  I squeeled with surprise, then gasped.  I had to arch my back to accommodate his length and girth.  It felt like a football inside me.  Maybe the whole team.

"You OK, Buddy?"  My head nodded again.  It hurt.  It did.  I really was okay.  Yeah, even though it hurt.  More than okay. Having him joined with me this way made me feel good all over, except, of course that I felt like I'd been impaled.  I had been fucked before.  But there was something different.  Not like boy fucking.  Like being fucked by a man without inhibitions, who knew he could have me, and was singularly determined to cum, who absolutely planned to explode inside me.  Then very slowly, he started to give me an massage my insides with his long shank.  The sky and trees above me started to spin around.  His grinning face was becoming blurred. I felt like I was going to cum, but the feeling just kept growing and growing as he teased me inside with his bare boner.

"Stop!  It's too much!" I said when it felt like I was about to be sawed in half.

He ignored me.

"I mean it, Fox!  Please stop!"  I was squirming like a pinned insect beneath him.  I thought I was going to pass out, and for some weird reason I was afraid he was going to cum inside me, not something I had ever even though about before.  I tried to escape, but I was no match for him.  He had me pinned to the tree.

Fox chuckled and just kept on thrusting, watching my face, and doing everything he could to make me struggle even more.

I was crying out with intense pleasure and fear and saying things like, "Oh fuck!  Stop Fox!  It's too big.  I can't take it!", and thrashing about wildly for a long time.  Then I exploded with a howl of pleasure, and he clamped his hand over my mouth.  Pain and bliss, combined in a way never before experienced.  Perfectly balanced.

When I came to my senses, I saw a satisfied smile on his face.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed, "It's too big.  Why didn't you stop when I asked you to?" I inquired in an obvious contradiction that clearly indicated my state of confusion.

"Because you didn't want me to,"  he replied with his usual sardonic grin.  I knew he was right.

Then he started slowly thrusting inside me again.

"I'm gonna make you cum again, Buddy," he announced.

"No," I responded, and i didn't mean that I doubted his ability to do it.  I meant I didn't think I could take much more of his shank inside me.

"If I make you cum again, you gotta be my boyfriend at least for the summer.  It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

I considered his proposal.  The onslaught of his great masculine wonder against my prostate was altering my brain chemistry even more, or maybe it was his confidence, his charm, his pheromones, or maybe it was just him--something about him.  I have never had something hurt like that and still feel so good.  Now I badly wanted to take his load, but I wasn't that sure I could take the assault of his monster penis against my prostate much longer.  He started to thrust in again, now harder than before, and faster.  I'd felt something "pop" inside me.  It wasn't my cherry, but holy hell every second it felt like one of those chest bursters from that movie was gonna pop outta me.

His thrusts were incredibly painful and I remember begging him to stop, but he said it would pass, but it never did. Once he was root deep into me, he built up to a regular rhythm. I had my legs wrapped around him like a girl. 

As if on cue, despite the pain, that feeling began to grow again.  I had to concentrate hard to suppress it.  The sun was filtering through the canopy of leaves and limbs onto his back, and he was working so hard the sweat was dripping off his body and mingling with my own.  It was real Bliss.  He wasn't just fucking me.  Every thrust was carefully aimed against my sweet spot.  Animal sex, but not completely selfish.

He had found his angle and was driving his thick shank of meat hard against my prostate.   In three more strokes I was bucking like a wild stallion being broken by a cowboy and this monstrous orgasm hit me.   It was earth shattering.  As different from orgasms were from pre-cum orgasms.  Intense. Sustained  I had already shot loads on the leaves, so not that much teen spirit shot outta me, but  this orgasm was deep up in my ass, not starting from my dick.  Like an explosion of bliss way up inside of me.  Despite the pain filling me, I was actively participating now, pushing up and grinding against him.  I was gasping, and grunting, and crying out and he had to put his hand over my mouth again.  Still my cried muffled into his palm.  My orgasm should have come to an end, but he kept thrusting into me again and again, and this time it just kept going on and on, sorta reminding me of those long multiple ore-cum orgasms I had experienced as a boy before I was quite ready to shoot.  I lost all control of my limbs as my arms and legs sort of seized and cramped.  I was gasping for air.  My small penis was dancing and bouncing against me hard with each seizure.

I knew by the look on his face exactly when he went over the edge and his self-control evaporated.  With a wild cry, his primal instincts took over completely.  He was going to cum deep inside me, and there was no way he was going to stop it. 

He grunted, and it was loud and feral and deep.  His penis seemed to expand even more inside me and I could feel this long pole erupting, filling me with his seed.  I could feel his warm body fluids flowing into me and becoming part of the lubrication for each next thrust. I knew this guy shot at least as much as I do, probably more.  As I later figured out, way more.  The guy is a cum fountain. Each time he drove it in, I pushed against him to force his rigid convulsing cock in deeper.  I reveled in the fact that he was completely out of control because of what my body was doing for him.  The changing expressions of intense pleasure on his face were amazing to watch.  I was pulsating with absolute delight at what was going on inside and out.  This was no longer a means to a goal, it was hard pounding carnal fun.

Howling like a wild animal, Fox thrust in repeatedly as far as he could go, each time leaving me with another deposit of cum.  With a final groan and a deep thrust, he finished the process of releasing me from my virginity forever.  I had had sex before, been fucked, even had anal orgasms, but somehow, this time had been different.  This time changed me.  A thought wandered into my head, like a guy shouting in a labyrinth.  "You belong to me now," echoed again and again in the corridors of my mind.  And I knew it was true.

As he collapsed on top of me, I realized that the excitement of the last few moments had taken me to the brink.  For about five seconds I struggled to prevent myself from cumming again, as he began the process of extracting his long shaft from the depths of my puckered brown eye, but it was no use.  Holding him tightly against me and frantically rubbing my boner against his smooth hard body, I silently glued us together with my cum.

Lindsey, Fox, and David (1995)

YOU BELONG TO ME

Fox rolled over and we stared at the sky while we both tried to recover our senses.  His cum dripped out of me onto the blanket, and I took pride in what it meant.  I had given someone else sexual pleasure, and there, leaking out of my body, was the proof.

"You belong to me, now," he said.   It was a fact, pure and simple, the way he said it. 

I paused.  I had never had better sex, not ever, and only after we had finished did I realize that maybe for the first time in my life I'd had sex and hadn't thought Billy, about or compared Fox to Billy.  Not to Billy or anyone else.  I felt free.  I rolled onto my side to look at him, at his smooth tanned body, his dark hair, his  black wiry pubic patch, and his very long, fat penis slowly going flaccid. 

"How do you know you even want to be my boyfriend?" I asked slowly and almost timidly.

He smiled broadly.  It was that bad boy, I-know-something-more-than-you-will-ever-know, grin again.   "I just know," he said.    I know I was staring at him, and then he said, "I'm and A&S man."  He looked at me and could see my bewilderment I'm sure.    "In a carnival.  I'm a carny.  My dad was a showman.  Really, I know how to  read people.  I'm fucking good at it.  Honestly!"

He looked over at my expression, then went on, "Okay, your sixteen.  Born in November, so you're a Scorpio.   You're a swimmer, and you have won awards, several trophies, I think.   Next year you will be a senior.  You define yourself by your squeeter, and so do a lot of other people."

I know my expression went from curiosity to amazement. 

"You have already had your heart broken," he told me, "but this summer, we will mend it." he seemed to be deep in thought, then added, "Oh yeah, you jerk off way, way, way too much."

My jaw was hanging open.

"Something else," he half whispered, a more serious expression, "You want to be my boyfriend."

He was right.  I had just met him but somehow I knew that.

"How do you know," I asked. 

"Gaydar!" he laughed, then looked more serious and said, "Nah, when I put my seed inside you," He smiled with the confidence of a king, "I knew."  he reached over and put his hand on my chest.  "My seed, inside you right now, will change you.  It already has.  You know I'm right, you already feel it."  It was weird how he touched almost immediately on this sort of superstition I had, something I had noticed about myself and how I felt about a guy after having been fucked.

He didn't talk like any guy I had ever met before.  But I kept thinking about what he said.  I kept thinking about his semen, absorbed by my body, interacting with my cells, influencing my thoughts.  Changing me.   I have read studies, now, later in my life that a man's semen hormonally interacts with a woman's body, and can even help cure depression.  So who knows what a semen exchange between men might accomplish.  I doubt it's been studied.  But I didn't think his source of information was science.  This was more, hmm, esoteric.  Touching me softly.

"My grandfather," he began, "is very old.  But until he got injured he was very strong."  he paused and we both looked at the sky.  "He has retired now, and I stay with him, help him out."  He returned his gaze to the sky and I thought his eyes welled up some, but no tears escaped.   "He taught me everything.  He is a great man.  But he will die soon."

"How old are you?"  I asked him.

"I'm nineteen," he answered, almost without thinking.  His mind was elsewhere.

Eventually he turned back to look into my face.  "I'm going to teach you how to fight this summer.  It's time you learned."  He smiled, "He taught me wrestling, eventually I'll take over catch wrestling when I go back.  I'll show you some hooks.  One fight and they will leave you alone"

That came out of the blue.  It was auspicious though.  Kyle had told me recently I should learn how to defend myself, and so had Mark, my brother.  I guess my jaw must have been hanging open again. 

He touched his forefinger to his right eye.  "I can see," he said.  He pointed at the shadow of a bruise beneath my own eye, at the faint bruises on my stomach.  I expected him next to point at my still purplish scrotum, but he didn't.  Instead he reached down and cradled my balls gently in his hand. He didn't have to say anything.  Jimmy had kicked me in the balls hard enough to send me to the doctor. 

"I knew you would be my match when I saw you,"  he said.  "The Sybil told me I would meet you.  She just didn't say exactly where or when. "

"The sybil?" I asked.

"Fortune teller," he said, "Eighty percent of what she says is pure bullshit, but then sometimes she gets it right," he continued, "Mostly those are for free, to family, not marks.  She told me to "follow the squeeter into the woods." Fox paused.  "His heart has been broken," she told me, "and his balls.  He has a hole inside me big enough for a bull like you.  You will complete him,and he will complete you."  

I understood only half of what he said, but I learned that would be normal.

"So when I saw you leave the park and come over here, I knew."

"What did you know?"

"That this time she was right, you fucktard!"  he laughed and started to tickle me mercilessly.

Fox rolled on top on me side and gave me that big grin that was becoming so familiar.  I wanted to ask him questions about himself, but there was something about him that sort of let you know not to ask.

"About the time you spread your legs to let me play with your asshole, I knew you really wanted it all, but you just didn't know it yet yourself. You're such a shy little fucker you needed someone to help you get there, and who could be better at that than me?"

"So you actually want to be my boyfriend?"  The light was beginning to dawn. "You're not just saying that to fuck me."

He looked at me with a smile in his eyes.  "Oh yeah."

"Really," he announced, "I really do like your little squeeter."  Then asked me, "Tell me, just how long is it.  And do not lie and tell me you have never measured it."

"It's three and a quarter inches," I said.  Normally having to say it out loud like that really bothered me. "And you?"

"I'm like eight and a half," he said, "nine on a good day."

"That's huge" I said. 

"I seen bigger," he said, and nodded grandly for emphasis.  "And on a little guy too.  Pounded me solid.  I'm no lot lizard, but I been around."  he grimaced, "Fuck!  I'll take a squeeter like yours any day," and repeated, "any day." He actually blushed a bit as he said, "Squeeters get me hard.  It's my thing I guess." Then he added, "In the show, your little squeeter would back you some bucks. Especially in the after show," he went on, "The blow." he explained, "The chesters would go wild for you, Buddy!"

He looked down at his groin and said, "See what you just did to me?"

His flaccid penis was slowly extending into a full erection.  "I wanna do it again." he announced.  It wasn't a question at all.  

He pulled himself down and took my little rod in his mouth and licked me until I was hard and throbbing.

Some part of me was pleased that he suggested fucking.  but some other part of me wasn't.  Now that his dick was no longer inside me I could feel my rectum prickle, aching from the onslaught I had taken as his bottom.  My ass was sore, and my sphincter was severely chaffed and tender.

He reached over and pulled a couple of coins out of the pocket of his pants that he had tossed down on the blanket.

"Flip you," he offered.  "I win, we fuck," he laughed, "You win, well you get to decide."

"Heads," I said.

He flipped one coin, the other having fallen casually to the blanket.

"Tails, you lose."  I was a little suspicious, mostly because he was lubing up his boner before he made the offer.

"Let me see the coins, please," I requested.

Reluctantly, he handed me the coins.  The one he had used had two tails, the other had two heads.  I handed them back to him without comment.  He had this sheepish expression like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I tried to put an expression of disappointment on my face, and gave him a few seconds to reflect on his dishonesty.  Then I stretched out on my back, put my hands under my head, spread my legs apart, and smiled up at him. With his customary huge grin, he was between my legs instantly.  He was poised for the plunge within seconds.

"More lube," I said with a grimmace. "I'm pretty sore."

"Too late," he smirked as he began the long slow thrust into me.  

"Oh fuck!" I said as he slid into me all the way.

That familiar grin spread over his face again.  "I never pull out until I cum."

Then he settled down to some serious fucking.  I knew he was going to make me cum again before he unloaded inside, and I was looking forward to both events.  I was addicted to this bad boy for sure.  By the time he was done, and he took a while longer this time around, my ass was officially wrecked.

I fell asleep, and woke up to the sound of his motorcycle engine roaring.   He told me that his grandfather was fine with him spending the night at my house.   Surprised, I tried to explain about my mother, how controlling she was, and that she would have to give us her permission, and Fox just shushed me and told me he would handle it.    And he was right.  His charming smile and good looks won her over in minutes.   We spent the night in the tree house, and I had never imagined that there could be a fucking machine quite like Fox.  About every two hours he would wake me up so he could fuck me again.  He loaded me up with Fox juice one last time just before the sun came up.  What a way to start the day, looking at the red sunrise through a haze of pleasure as your fuck buddy brings you both to another climax.

I reluctantly pulled on my jeans and stood up, stiff from the unaccustomed exercise and mor sore than I could ever remember.  His cum dripped down my legs.  The blanket in the tree house was a disaster.

"Can we do this again another time?" I asked somewhat tentatively.

"We can do it any time you like, Buddy," he replied.  "In fact, let's camp out again tonight.  I'll grab some beer  so we can see what that does for you  You don't drink beer, but you want to.  And I know a few more things we can try."  He kissed me again, deeply and passionately.  When he pulled back, he said to me again, "Do I have to remind you that you are my boyfriend now.  I plan on seeing you every day, and spending every night with you."

Despite my sore tuchas, I knew it life was going to be different.  I guess it took three full days before his seed worked its magic on me.   I mean, at the beginning I knew I was attracted to him, but before the week was out, I had done what I had sworn, after everything with Billy, would never happen.  That I would let myself fall in love again.   Taking care of Fox had become my new favorite activity. It became my job,  more than that, it started to define me.  If I wasn't with him, if he wasn't inside me, I felt incomplete.  Fox freed me from the ghost of Billy.  It was about time.

And when Mark told me, "You seem different, Little Bro." And then added, "You're in love, ain't ya?"  

I knew he was right.  

I had it bad.  

But this time it was good.