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Subject: “Young Lovers,” Chapter 42 Chapter 42 The climax of the afternoon was approaching, and I wasn’t about to miss Joon’s big moment. I worked my way up to the front of the excited crowd filling two sides of the stuffy wrestling room nearly to overflowing. So far I hadn’t had a glimpse of Joon since he had left the building after his earlier victory, and Johnny was nowhere to be found either. I assumed he was still with his guest, the guy who had won him for the day after his victory earlier. “Should be interesting,” came a voice over my shoulder. “Hey Evan. Here to watch the festivities?” Evan squeezed between two guests and stood next to me. “I hope I’m here to watch Joon teach this asshole a lesson.” “No love lost between you and Crush, then?” Evan snorted. “No disrespect — your boy was never my favorite, you know that. But compared to this loudmouthed clown Joon’s a model citizen.” “This guy Crush puts on quite a show. What’s he like when he doesn’t have an audience?” “He’s always got an audience. Always performing. All his teachers are already fed up with his antics, and half his dorm mates are ready to kill him. I don’t think Maurice has a future here.” “Maurice? No wonder he goes by Crush!” “Well, Mauricio. Mexican father, I guess.” “How long’s he been here?” “About three weeks. You’d have to check with Marco to get the details but from what I hear he’s been a disaster with his guests. Two of them refused to continue with him after their first night and the other one got in a physical fight with him. Said the kid hit him first. He threatened to sue us. Martin was pissed, needless to say.” “Wow. What happened?” “I guess the guy changed his mind after some time with — a better boy.” “Yeah?” “Three complimentary nights with Jack would probably calm anyone’s nerves.” “Hmm.” I had to admit I didn’t much like the idea of sweet little Jack being used as a palliative for some lawsuit-happy queen. “What was the problem anyway? Why’d he hit the guy?” “Took us awhile to get at the truth. To be fair to the kid, the guy was apparently way over the line. We told him going in that Crush wasn’t gonna suck or get fucked. Too much of a straight boy, you know. He had to take him on that basis, and initially he agreed, reluctantly. But some of these spoiled super-rich queens never get told no about anything, and in a lot of guys’ minds I guess Crush’s virgin ass just makes him hotter and more of a challenge. Turns out the guy got kind of forceful with the kid when he wouldn’t let him fuck him, and so Crush gave him a karate chop, or whatever they call it, for his trouble.” “Well, serves him right, then. But wait a minute — if Crush doesn’t do half the stuff guests might want, what would happen if he beats Joon and the winning bidder wants him to . . . ” “Marco promised Crush a bunch of extra money if he’d go along with whatever his guest wanted this time, and he said OK. And If you ask me what Mr. Crush needs is a good thorough fucking to get him down off that high horse. But hey, that’s your kind of thing, not mine.” I nodded, knowing that Evan was a confirmed bottom. I allowed myself to fantasize a little bit. Yeah, what would it be like . . . my cock penetrating that squirming, squeezing ass, him grunting and gasping beneath me, his sweaty golden brown shoulders bunching, the bad boy finally getting what was coming to him, something he didn’t want but something that maybe deep down, he needed . . . After a minute I murmured, “You gotta admit, though — Crush is really hot! I mean, a few minutes ago, when he was fucking that kid Troy — I don’t know, he’s like a force of nature” Evan gave me a look. “Oh, please.” “Did you see how the crowd reacted? Every guy in this place wants a piece of him right now! He’s the sensation of the week! I bet the betting will go sky high for him.” “Well good. Maybe we’ll finally make some money off the little prick then.” ****************************** The last wrestling match of the day had ended. Byron and his friend Omar had faced off in the finals for the bigger boys. Though Omar seemed agile and determined, he was no match for Byron’s superior skills, and the match ended with Omar splayed out on the mat and Byron standing over him, arm raised by the referee in triumph. There were plenty of cheers, and Byron allowed himself a tired smile. While some of those cheers were no doubt in admiration of his athleticism, it was a good bet most of them were in admiration of something else — namely, the sweat-shiny, ebony beauty of Byron’s perfectly proportioned body. And maybe that soft, seven inch dick too — or was it now eight inches, thickening and erecting just a bit? If so, Byron wouldn’t be the last boy that week getting aroused by his own triumph. Byron reached down, grasped Omar’s hand and tugged him upward. Byron wouldn’t be requiring his buddy to do anything sexual in front of other people. He would allow Omar to save face. Johnny had told me that once in their dorm at night, when they thought no was around, he had seen them having sex. Whatever might be the real truth about Omar, his public image was still that he was 100% straight, just like Byron’s. Omar waved to the appreciative crowd too, and, after a couple of minutes Will stepped forward and announced the winning bidder. A sixtyish guy, balding and with a bit of a pot belly but an athletic stride and a confident air, stepped forward from the crowd, amid the usual hooting and hollering. He approached Byron, sizing the black boy up, and, in an almost respectful gesture, extended his hand. After a second Byron took it and they shook, gazing steadily into each other’s eyes. I nodded to myself. This is someone who will treat Byron right, I thought. Someone who recognizes his dignity. The man leaned forward and whispered something to Byron. The boy nodded briefly and said something back. The two then parted, and at one side of the room he joined Johnny, who had now appeared — Byron was apparently to go to the guy’s cabin later on that evening. Before I had a chance to start wondering about what would be happening sexually between pain-loving, 100% straight Byron and the guest who had won his favors for the evening, Will was announcing the final event of the afternoon. He raised one arm into the air and scanned the room with a grin. His voice came through the bullhorn loud and clear. “OK guys! You’ve seen them demolish their lesser opponents!” he cried theatrically. “You’ve wondered what would happen when they finally faced off against each other! Well, it’s time for the showdown! Time to place some serious bets, because it’s the battle you’ve all been waiting for! Taekwando at a level you’ve probably never seen it before! Coco, Christian and I will be circulating again for a couple of minutes to take your bets, so dig into your pockets — you know you’ve got a few pennies left in there! It’s time to make your choice — will it be . . . JOON?” Will gestured to the side of the building to my right, and Joon pushed through the crowd, naked this time, his mouth set in a scowl, the scorpion already shiny with sweat. The crowd parted for him, although a couple of hands reached out to grope his ass as he passed by and stepped onto the mat. “Or will it be . . .CRUSH?” Will gestured to the other side of the gym as the crowd roared. For a moment no one appeared. Then the main door directly across from me flew open and into the room strode Crush, arms high as if already triumphant, wearing his rainbow-colored sweatshirt, naked from the waist down. His large cock was completely erect. The roar from the assembled men increased, and the catcalls and whistles were deafening in the low-ceilinged room. I caught snatches of excited conversation all around me. “. . . fucking amazing . . .” “. . . might as well spend it all . . . ” “. . . Ohmigod, what I will do to THAT boy . . .” ” . . . Oh fuck, I can’t wait . . . ” “. . . so skinny, but mean . . . ” I smiled to myself at this last one, because of course I knew who the guy must be referring to. As the wagering took place Crush circled the mat, shouting to the men in the crowd, urging them on, occasionally giving his cock a few vigorous strokes and then laughing uproariously. At one point he spied Byron standing against the wall with Johnny, raced over to him, waving his ams theatrically, and then, shockingly, started acting like an ape, scratching his armpit and making chimp-like noises. Byron’s face was a stone mask but I knew he had to be smoldering at the openly racist disrespect. Meanwhile Joon stood to the side, glowering into space, assiduously ignoring the whole spectacle. The betting took longer than usual and it seemed to be very heavy, From what little I could tell from those nearest to me, Crush was the favorite. At one point a short, rather handsome guy to my left gave me a little nudge. “Hey, who do you like? Not betting this one?” “No, sitting this one out,” I answered with a smile. “What about you?” “You’re probably smart. I’m going with the skinny kid. Sure I’d rather spend the night with the other one, he’s amazing, but I can’t afford what he’s gonna cost. At least I might have a shot with scorpion-boy.” “I hear he’s never been beaten, so I guess you’ve got a shot, all right.” “Really? He’s never lost? How do you know?” “Well, let’s just say I have it on good authority.” “Ah. You’ve got connections.” “Sort of, I guess you could say.” At this point there was a roar of laughter and excitement from the crowd, and I looked over to see what was happening. Not twenty feet away me Crush stood gleefully bellowing at the top of his lungs as some guy from the crowd knelt in front of him and began licking his raging erection. “Hey, hey, hey, not yet, boys!” cried Will, hustling over. “Come on now, no sampling the merchandise before purchase!” “As good as it looks!” the guy cried to the cheering crowd, as he got to his knees and rejoined the audience. “OK, I guess this means you guys can’t wait any longer!” Will cried through his bullhorn. “Twenty more seconds and the window closes! Dig deep, you stingy queens!” The twenty seconds turned into another minute as more eager bets were placed, but finally it was time. The Asian guy who had officiated the earlier rounds materialized and gestured the two boys toward the center of the mat. They bowed to the crowd, then turned to each other. Joon bowed and, as before, Crush just made a face at Joon. This time the official stepped forward and spoke sharply to Crush. Crush then made a perfunctory bow to Joon, but a few seconds later, when the Asian guy didn’t seem to be looking, he made a face at him, to the amusement of the assemblage. The boys then separated and went to opposite sides of the mat. The crowd quieted and you could feel the tension in the room. The referee gestured abruptly, and the match began. For a few quiet seconds the boys circled, very slowly. The expressions on their faces showed their intense concentration. Suddenly, in a split second, Crush attacked, Joon parried him and then, like lightening, there was a flurry of punches, counterpunches, kicks and spins, and then, a second later, the two whirled away from each other and faced each other again. Faces flushed now, breathing harder, the circling continued. Joon made a feint and Crush lunged aside so fast it was as if he translocated. Then Crush did the same thing, and Joon dodged him with equal speed. Suddenly Joon backed away, perhaps as much as twelve feet, paused, and then dashed toward Crush, slid to a knee, and with two blows I couldn’t even follow sent the other boy tumbling to the mat. Joon popped to his feet as the crowd yelled and the referee gestured that Joon had won a point. Crush popped up almost as quickly with a look of consternation on his face, It was as if he had never seen konya escort anything like the move Joon had just scored with. The boy stood still and the ferocity of his gaze now was almost unnerving. He began bobbing his head, bent his knees repeatedly, bobbed some more. Joon just waited. Crush got an evil grin on his face and kept bobbing weirdly. Then he stood motionless, as if gathering himself. He actually turned his back on Joon and rose to his toes. Joon waited a split second — and then made his mistake. He surged forward to take advantage of his opponent’s inattention, but, as if he sensed the boy’s approach, Crush dropped to one hand, spun to one side, and with a ferocious kick swept Joon’s feet out from under him. Joon hit the mat hard and Crush thrust his hands into the air as the crowd screamed and the official scored a point. One to one. Joon rose slowly, eying his opponent with what looked like disdain but what I knew was pure hatred. Crush sneered back at him, his eyes locked on him the whole time like a wolf on its prey. Joon suddenly lunged, feinted, lunged again, then stepped to one side and knocked Crush off balance with blow to the shoulder. The other boy recovered at once, dodged before Joon’s next blow caught him flush, and then delivered a closed-fist shot directly to Joon’s face. Joon reflexively bent forward, one hand protecting his nose, blood already seeping through his fingers, and Crush then aimed a heel-first kick directly into Joon’s balls. The crowd gave a collective “OOOH!”, my boy screamed and hit the mat, where he writhed, both hands thrust into his crotch, his body in a fetal position, and the lower half of his face covered now in blood. Fury surged through me at this cheap shot. “YOU FEEL THAT, BITCH???!!!” Crush screamed, bending over his fallen victim. “YOU WANT MORE???? YOU WANT MORE??? YOU GOT NOTHIN, BITCH!! YOU GOT NOTHIN!'” The referee immediately was at his side, pushing him away from Joon. The boy danced over to the crowd then, screaming, yelling, twirling around and around, hands over his head. His cock, which had gone soft once the match had begun, began rising rapidly toward its full eight angry pinkish-brown inches and bobbed ledly as he pranced. Some in the crowd were cheering but many of the men looked a bit stunned, no doubt having not expected such violence. I wondered: would what he did be allowed to stand? Would he be disqualified? “MotherFUCKER!” muttered Evan, as he pushed his way out of the crowd onto the mat. There was another moment of confusion, as Will huddled with the referee while Evan and another staff member knelt by Joon and began talking with him, Evan’s hand on his shoulder. Shocked, helpless, I could only watch. Someone else, however, had other ideas. From somewhere on the far side of the room someone ran onto the mat — my view was momentarily blocked by a couple of guys who had surged in front of me in the excitement. I stepped around them just in time to see a small but powerfully built little ball of energy, long black hair whipping around his head, hit Crush at a full run and knock him staggering. As I watched, horrified, Crush regained his balance, grabbed the boy under his arms, spun him around and, teeth gritted, biceps knotted, flung the little kid about eight feet through the air and into the concrete side wall of the room, which he hit with a sickening thud. I literally couldn’t move as my initial fear was confirmed, for I saw, with a fist gripping my heart, that it was Johnny. ****************************** “A draw?! A fucking draw?!” Even though Joon looked slightly ridiculous with gauze stuffed up both nostrils, his outrage was palpable. “Well, if they had disqualified him they could hardly collect all the bets on him to win, right? They’d have had to give it all back,” I answered from my perch on the edge of Joon’s bed. “Shit! So all they care about is their fucking payday!” “Well, it’s probably a hell of a lot of money. And there’d have been some pissed off guests too.” “What do you care, anyway?” asked Byron, who stood next to Joon’s bed. “It’s the fucking principle! Something you wouldn’t understand!” Byron glowered at this. I patted his forearm. “He’s down right now, Byron. Let him be an asshole. It’s not personal.” “Shit,” the black boy muttered. “Anyway Joon, you’ll be glad to know that, considering your condition, you’re not going to have to have a guest — I made sure of that with Marco. And, more importantly, Johnny is none the worse for wear.” “Johnny? What’s he got to do with it?” So Joon didn’t know. I wavered a second, deciding whether or not now was the time to break the news. Byron saved me the trouble. “That asshole threw him against the wall while you were playing with your balls there on the mat.” “WHAT?” “Yeah, Johnny ran onto the mat and attacked Crush when he kicked you in the balls,” I explained. “I guess you were–” “That motherfucker!” Joon struggled to toss the sheet off him and get out of bed. I grabbed his little rock-hard shoulders and gently but firmly pushed him back down. “Nothing you can do now. Crush is with his guest — the guy who won him — and Johnny’s back at the apartment with Dwayne and a couple other kids. He’s fine, just a bit of a sore shoulder. You just rest up here — Lance said he’d discharge you when the bleeding stops.” Joon fumed but didn’t resist. “Hey guys.” I heard Marco’s voice behind me. I turned. Marco wasn’t smiling as he entered the room. There was no jaunty, slightly ironic greeting, none of his usual joshing. “How are you, Joon?” “Fine,” Joon replied coldly. “Lance says nothing’s broken,” I said. “He’ll be back close to to normal by tomorrow — he just needs to take it easy for a few days until everything heals.” “Well that’s good. So listen Joon . . . ” Marco seated himself next to me. “I want to talk to you about something.” “Like why you’re letting that asshole get away with cheating, so you can collect your money?” “No, like what we’re going to do about Crush’s behavior. I want your help.” “Fuck that piece of shit,” Joon snarled. Marco put a hand soothingly on Joon’s arm, but the boy yanked it away. “Look, man, I know you’re pissed as hell,” said Marco, still calm. “I don’t blame you. Actually, fucking that piece of shit might not be a bad idea.” Everyone looked at him. “It’s only been, what, an hour since the match ended, but a couple other things have happened. Apparently things didn’t go well with Crush and his guest just now. The guy wanted to fuck him and Crush wouldn’t cooperate, even though he told us he would. He told us last week, when he decided to compete, that he’d do whatever his guest wanted, but now he’s refusing.” We all waited. “He says he’s, uh, never been fucked and never will be.” He looked meaningfully from Joon to me. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked. “I’m thinking I’ve been patient with this guy for too long,” Marco said evenly. “I’ve had it with his antics. He disrupts class, he terrorizes kids in his dorm, and disrespects everybody on staff. He got into a fist fight with a guest, for Christ’s sake. Today, in the course of one afternoon, he cheap shots Joon and injures him, could have injured Johnny seriously, and then goes back on his word to us and pisses off one of our best customers. The guy’s leaving tomorrow and says he’s never coming back, after spending probably, I don’t know, a couple million bucks here over the last two years. Old Maurice needs to be taught a lesson before we kick him the hell off this island. And I think you two are just the guys to do it.” There was silence in the room. “Why us?” I finally asked, still a bit dazed from all that had been happening. “Well, Joon is the guy he’s most offended — next to me — and based on your track record here, I’d say you’re the specialist with . . . ” He glanced at Joon. ” . . . boys with issues.” This was intriguing! “What do you have in mind?” I asked. Marco leaned forward with a small smile, but the anger underneath was unmistakable. “I don’t care who does it, but I need to know this guy’s gotten what’s coming to him. And no therapy this time,” he added, looking at me. “Once you deflower the little bastard he’s out of here.” ******************************* The little wrestling room was deadly quiet. Joon, Johnny, Byron and I stood silently, looking down at Crush, who lay splayed out before us, glaring. “He’s all yours,” I said softly to Joon. Joon made a contemptuous noise. More silence. “Fuck him, man,” Byron finally said. “Fuck the shit out of him. You know he deserves it.” Joon stared silently at Crush. The wild boy stared back, trying to look tough, but after a tense moment his gaze wavered. He knew he was beaten. Joon gave another dismissive noise, and suddenly turned and left the room, banging the door on the way out. He was letting Crush know he wasn’t worth his time. After another minute Byron and Johnny went over to the door too. Apparently it would be my task to deflower the despised boy. Something I could totally get into! “You OK?” Byron asked before leaving. “For now. I’ll need help turning this bitch over. Come back in a half hour — unless you want to stay and watch me work him over.” Byron gave a thin humorless smile, and he and Johnny left. I now had a chance to have a good look at our naked captive. My captive now. It hadn’t been easy to reduce Crush to a state of helpless submission. The three of us — first Joon, then Byron and I — had manhandled him so thoroughly it was as if he were not only wiped out physically but emotionally too. It all started when Marco and a couple other staff members half-dragged the guy over to the gym, where we were waiting for him, and left him with us. As planned, Joon immediately got into his face and challenged him to another match, this time with no referee, no rules, and no audience except for Johnny, Byron and me. Crush had accepted the challenge with almost violent intensity. The two had faced off in the empty room, with just the three of us watching. Joon had then proceeded to just demolish him. Time after time, despite Crush’s skillful dodging, twisting and kicking, Joon threw, flipped or kneed him to the mat. Crush was as agile and athletic as he’d been earlier, and every bit as willing to claw and gouge and cheat as he had been as well. But Joon, now apparently liberated from the rules of his sport and free to claw and gouge right back, was just unstoppable, a boy possessed. I was amazed, and proud, to see as impressive a display of pure fighting spirit as I’d ever seen. Meanwhile, deprived of an admiring audience, Crush didn’t quite have the grandiose self-confidence he’d shown earlier. The thing ended with Crush on his knees, bleeding from a cut on his chin and a scrape on his elbow, taking three vicious kicks in the stomach from Joon before collapsing in defeat. Once he was thoroughly beaten, the four of us had proceeded to try to strip him naked. Though apparently exhausted from his struggle with Joon he snapped back to life and resisted with amazing tenacity. Crush had writhed and struggled for five minutes or more. Eventually, every time he tried to resist, either Byron would smack him in the jaw or Joon would twist his arm into a position so unnatural he could only submit. Meanwhile I’d try to hold him down with my greater weight. Now, finally naked, he lay motionless, exhausted, all fight apparently out of him. I knelt a little closer and leaned forward to examine my prize carefully. I saw now that, though he was about average height for a 17-year-old and had very defined muscles, he was actually rather small boned, actually quite elegant. The eyes were large and almond-shaped, with surprisingly heavy brows. He actually was a pretty good-looking kid. But it was his fantastic body that was already konyaaltı escort starting to get me hard. My gaze flowed slowly downward. He had beautifully shaped arms, golden brown, with breathtakingly defined biceps and shoulders, sexy veins standing out on his forearms. Narrow waist, rising to a strong, youthful chest glistening with sweat, the sweat of the boy’s angry, futile attempts to escape. I slowly reached toward his throat with my fingertips, and he watched me, still motionless. I began carefully tracing my fingers down his body, stroking the smooth flesh. Crush said nothing, but his softly muscled belly still rose and fell rapidly from our struggle. Pectorals, belly, thighs — he was firm with muscle everywhere. I drew one finger down into his black, unusually straight pubic hair, stopping just at the base of his cock. I gazed into his eyes then, meaningfully. The boy was still, his expression unreadable. His passive compliance seemed so out of character I wondered how long it would last. I wondered if at any moment his quiet body would spring back to life. We had tied the guy’s ankle securely to one leg of the large metal equipment bin that stood near the wrestling mat, containing volleyballs, bags of towels and other miscellanea of the sort one would find in most high school gyms. Another one of the lengths of cord that Marco had thoughtfully provided tied one arm to the side of the bleachers that were folded up against the near side of the gym. Thus the boy’s left leg and right wrist were more or less immobilized. Though he couldn’t escape, I had wanted him to have some freedom of movement. I got up and went over to the large bottled water near the door. I filled up a paper cup, brought it back over to the boy and handed it to him. After a pause he took it and drank. He watched me the whole time, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I filled it up again, and this time slowly poured it over his sweaty face. He closed his eyes and allowed the little bath. The water glistened and it mixed with his sweat and ran in rivulets over his bowed collarbones. I got one more cupful and then, wetting the edge of his discarded T-shirt, I dabbed at the cut on his chin. The boy watched me, still saying nothing, his eyes deep back pools. Why I being tender with him, I wondered? I looked into his eyes for something — what was it? Something I could feel something for. Something vulnerable, maybe. Something I could make love to. But his eyes were blank. Stone cold. At this point I leaned forward, pursed my lips, and very gently kissed his bloody chin. He jerked back in surprise. I leaned in and kissed him again, then drew my tongue down into the hollow of his throat After a second he jerked back again, eying me with shock and, I think, disgust. I chuckled, unwilling to show him any hint that I might have cared what he thought. Then I leaned forward onto his free arm, immobilizing it and thereby pressing him down completely onto his back, and gently grabbed one of his large sweaty balls. I stared into his eyes, taking in his still-confused gaze. Then I leaned in again to kiss him, and again he jerked aside. With that I squeezed down — not hard, but hard enough. He gave a gasping cry, his head snapping back, his eyes closed, his hips writhing. “You’ll do what I want,” I whispered in his ear, releasing my hold on his sensitive anatomy. I waited. After a minute, his pain apparently subsiding, he opened his eyes and stared at me. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked. “Who the fuck am I?” I smiled. “I’m Mike. And Joon, the guy who just kicked the shit out of you? He’s my boy. And when I want him to be, he’s my bitch. And, like I said, you’re gonna do what I want. Whatever I want. You got it?” He paused — too long for my liking. I squeezed down again, a little harder this time. “MMMPPPHHHH!!” he cried, snapping his head to the side again, flopping one leg over his crotch, trying to protect himself. After a minute of softly moaning and writhing he was still. And at that point I began to lick him all over. His skin twitched but he didn’t pull away. He was warm and sweaty and I luxuriated in him, writhing my tongue slowly, appreciatively, over his chest and arms, his shoulders and his neck. I tongued his nipples for quite some time. I nibbled his armpit hair. He lay still now, still panting a bit. Every once in awhile I caressed his balls, giving him a gentle reminder of what I would do to him if he decided to resist again. I slid my tongue over his washboard belly, drooling saliva onto him to keep things nice and wet, and kissed and nibbled each muscle. I drilled my tongue tip against his flat navel. There were fine, almost invisible hairs trailing downward toward his prize possessions, and I swabbed my tongue back and forth as I slowly worked my way down. Finally I buried my face in his spray of pubic hair, inhaling his sweaty musk deeply. I very gently caressed his balls and then, finally, allowed my lips to glide onto the base of his cock. He gave a little grunt then and thrust his hips upward slightly. His cock seemed to be a bit thicker, and as I pressed against it more firmly and held my lips there I could feel the pulsing of his heart. I withdrew, accumulated a mouthful of saliva and then began swiping my wet tongue up and down his long, hot cock, from its base to just below the head, over and over. He gasped and squirmed, and I could feel him erecting strongly. Though I was tempted to swallow his cockhead and pull his juice out of him right then, I was patient. Instead I moved over to his hip and, still gently caressing his balls, began working on his left leg. For the next few minutes, gripping his free wrist firmly so he couldn’t take a swing at me, I went over him thoroughly, enjoying every square inch of the front of his body. He seemed to be trying to refrain from responding, but in the end the pleasure got to him. He couldn’t suppress his gasps and moans, and he would occasionally squirm against me in obvious pleasure. His cock was now fully hard, arching and bobbing its eight pink-brown inches above his lower belly. Every once in awhile I would leave his groin, his calf, his toes, wherever I was kissing and licking him, and return to his cock. Just a couple of licks, just a few kisses, and never on his glans. Just enough to keep him excited, and to get him to start wanting to cum, wanting his cockhead in my mouth, down my throat. Never satisfying him. I made that tour of his body’s most sensitive spots several times, working slowly and enjoying the boy’s warm and silky skin. The kid was trying hard not to quiver at the sensations he felt but without much success. I decided to see how he would respond if I tried to kiss him now. Pressing his free shoulder down with one arm I gripped his jaw firmly and eased my face toward him. Suddenly his body sprang to life, and he struggled like a madman. “Get your shitty faggot face off me! Fuck!” he bellowed.” Shit! You can’t–” I didn’t want to put him out of commission sexually, so I didn’t actually crush his balls, though I must say there was a split second when I felt like doing it. I just squeezed, maybe a little harder than before. His whole body spasmed under me, and I pressed myself more firmly against him, holding down in his agony. I gave him a minute. Then I shouted in his ear, “YOU WANT MORE PAIN??” Eyes closed, teeth gritted, he gave no answer, just continuing to gasp. I jerked his face toward me. His eyes popped open, glaring murderously. I slowly brought my face toward him. “Don’t be stupid,” I whispered. Then I kissed him. He violently jerked his face away, then surged forward and, with a snarl, clamped his teeth onto my cheek. Shocked, I jerked my face away. We stared at each other then, faces just inches away from each other. Somehow, I had no thought of retaliation. I could feel blood starting to trickle down the side of my face. Crush had bitten my face without any hesitation, despite the fact I could have crushed his balls. Who would do something that crazy? Only one person I knew. The other scorpion boy in my life. The boy’s eyes were still deep, expressionless black pools. I made a decision. Lowering my face, still pressing the boy firmly down, I nibbled his quivering belly softly, worked my way downward, and then sucked the head if his semi-hard cock deeply into my mouth. I swirled my tongue over his glans, feeling the two small gold studs hard against my tongue tip. Did they make him more sensitive there, or less? The kid hardened up almost immediately, and then I really went to town. Bobbing, slobbering, nipping, caressing, nibbling, I did everything I could to bring Crush to the brink of orgasm, the very brink. After a couple of minutes of this he was clutching the mat, writhing in pleasure, tossing his head about . . . but I didn’t let him get quite all the way there. I raised up and looked at him. His body glowed with a sheen of sweat. He was literally panting with the desire for release. His arching cock looked so tight in its skin it was as if it were ready to split open. It glistened with my spit. A small drop of pre-cum shone at his piss slit. Staring into his eyes, I reached forward with a finger, pressed it into that droplet, then gently smeared it around his glans. His belly spasmed, and for the first time I saw something in his eyes. It was hunger. The door suddenly banged open and Byron, Johnny and Joon appeared. “Perfect timing,” I called. “What the fuck happened to your face?” Joon growled as the three of them walked over to me. “He was so hot for me he got over-enthusiastic.” Crush scowled as I grinned at him and wiped blood from my cheek. The boys surveyed the scene in front of them. “I bringing you this,” Johnny said, holding out a large bottle of lube. “Oh no, he’s Crush, he doesn’t need any of that,” I sneered. “He can take it raw. Can’t you, big man?” Rage, frustration and something else surged over the boy’s face at this, and he writhed under me, but I controlled him easily. He panted in exasperation. I studied him. What was that something else? “You ready?” Joon asked, irritation just under the surface. “Sure, let’s turn him over.” With that the four of us went to work, unfastening the boy’s bonds and wrestling him over onto his front. He struggled mightily at first, but an elbow in the nose from Joon quieted him down. Finally we had him firmly secured. With both arms tied to the equipment cage and both legs splayed wide and fastened to the bleachers he wasn’t going anywhere. We stepped back to admire our handiwork. As before we had left a little play in the ropes. For one thing, I wanted to be able to easily get my hand on the kid’s cock. No way was I going to fuck him without playing with his cock a little. The kid was ready to climb the walls with sexual frustration, and I was going to make sure that not only was Mr. I-Don’t-Get-Fucked going to get fucked, he was damn well going to like it. “We gonna watch?” Johnny piped up. He was pawing absently at the packed front of his tight little gym shorts. “You can all join in after I’m done.” I grabbed a fistful of Crush’s multicolored hair, jerked his head back and proceeded to make a few somewhat exaggerated threats. “Whattya think, Mauricio? How’s it gonna feel to have four hard dicks in you, one after the other? Let’s see, you cheated Joon out of a win because you knew you couldn’t beat him any other way — I’m sure he’d like to rip this cute little ass wide open,” I said. I trailed my fingertips over his small, firm melons slowly. “Johnny, the guy you threw against the wall — he’s got eight thick inches, and he’ll make you feel every one of `em. And Byron here — your stupid racist bullshit has got him really pissed off. And he’s got a really huge dick — it’s so long konyaaltı eve gelen escort that by the time he’s done with you, you’ll taste cum from the inside.” “FUCK YOU!!” the boy yelled helplessly. “No, it’s not gonna be me,” I chuckled. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” I put my thumbs on his tailbone and slowly drew them down the valley between his asscheeks, and then pried them open. He had a small tight brown button — I was surprised that there were a few straight black hairs on either side. I guess Butch had overruled the usual Young Lovers policy. “Yep, this hole’s pretty small. I guess you really are a virgin,” I said cheerily. “Well, not for much longer.” I caressed his little asterisk with a fingertip. He tried to squirm his hips away, to no avail. “You better relax, Maurice. It’s gonna take a lot for me to get into that little thing. I’m gonna really have to push unless you loosen up.” With that I began firmly massaging his butt. His cheeks felt perfect, still young enough to be small, yet firm with muscle. I could hardly wait. I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I’d rather make you feel good than just fuck you, man. But you’ve been such a dick to so many people, you don’t deserve that right now. Maybe later, if you change your ways. But all you’ve done since you got here is fuck people over — so now it’s your turn to get fucked, and fucked hard.” The boy just squeezed his eyes shut and said nothing. I let his head drop. I then lay down behind him between his legs, separated the cheeks again, and pushed my face between them. There was a sharp exclamation of shock, and Crush tried to look back over his shoulder. I’d been waiting for this. Eating a boy for the first time if he’s never had it done before is always fun, and sometimes surprising. Crush certainly surprised me. I pulled the boy’s hips up to get at him better. After a half minute or so I heard what seemed like a soft groan, and the boy actually seemed to raise himself a bit higher. He was actually responding well! After swabbing his ass lips thoroughly I was able to insert just the tip of my tongue into him. Did he actually relax and open a bit? I couldn’t really tell. Before long, though, I began hearing some faint groans, and yes, they were unmistakably groans of pleasure. Another couple of minutes and Crush was definitely pushing back to get more. I reached around under his hips and — he was as hard as stone! I worked on him a little bit more, then looked over at Johnny, who was watching with wide eyes, and gestured for the lube. He quickly brought it to me. “Do you want to fuck him after I’m done, sweetie?” I asked. Johnny wrinkled his nose, looked hesitant for a second, and then shook his head. I wasn’t surprised — I knew he didn’t like anything rough, and he was definitely not a top. I uncapped the lube and began spreading some on Crush’s ass — he flinched and tried to pull away. I grabbed his hair again and shook him. “I’m giving you a break, fuckwad! Hold still and I’ll lube you up to make this easier! Jesus!” He quieted down, and I spread some lube generously between his cheeks and all over his asshole. Then I lubricated my finger, and pushed it into him. Crush jumped, gasped in surprise and tried to pull away. I just kept pushing, enjoying Crush’s cursing and thrashing, going nice and slowly until I was in him all the way. I pulled my finger out, added more lube, and then pushed it back in again. A few more times and he was thoroughly lubricated. By this time I was more than turned on, more than ready. I tossed away my T-shirt and shorts, swabbed my raging erection with some lube, and put a whole bunch more on the boy’s hole. Then I knee-walked forward. I must say my cock looked pretty intimidating next to the boy’s slim hips. I paused a moment, enjoying the delicious anticipation, his ass motionless, waiting, and my cock almost quivering in my excitement. Crush looked back over his shoulder then, and when he saw my lube-shiny erection he cursed and started to struggle. I held him down firmly, one hand pressing his neck against the mat. I positioned my cockhead against his greasy hole, feeling the warmth of his buttocks on either side embracing my organ. I began pushing. Crush gasped and clenched as tight as he could, resisting me. I just kept pushing. Nothing. Still, I was resolved to force him to yield with steady firm pressure, not by stabbing him and maybe injuring him. It was very slow. I so wanted to ram myself right in, but of course I didn’t. Even so, it was obviously painful for the kid, who started to grunt with the effort to keep me out. I knew his strength would give out eventually if I just stayed hard. In fact, I was getting hotter by the minute — the harder he resisted me the harder my cock felt. Before long the muscles of the kid’s sphincter began to weaken. As I looked down the thin skin was starting to stretch It must have taken at least five more minutes. Suddenly something finally gave way, and Crush gave a yell, more in anger than pain, I think, as I finally forced a bit into him. The boy was so hot and so tight! I strained to hold myself back from cumming. The kid yelled and cursed and then began wriggling violently, trying to get away from my cock spreading him open. Suddenly Joon appeared at my side, and proceeded to push a knee against Crush’s neck, effectively immobilizing him. We looked at each other. Despite my intense sexual arousal over Crush, my heart soared at Joon’s decision to help me fuck Crush. Helping me fuck another boy than him. I grabbed him behind the neck, pulled him toward me, and kissed him deeply. When we broke our kiss he stared at me meaningfully, then grabbed a fistful of Crush’s hair in order to keep him under control. I slid my forearms under the boy’s shoulders then, hugged him to me, and redoubled my effort. This obnoxious little virgin richly deserved a deflowering and that was exactly what he was about to get. I could feel him stretching further and I entered him farther, with agonizing slowness. Even Joon hadn’t been this tight and this good the first time. I had only a third of my cock in him but suddenly the kid’s body gave up resistance and to my shock I slipped in the rest of the way. My head snapped back as I strained to hold myself back, lying flat on the boy’s quivering back, buried deep. The wave of pleasure that hit me then was so intense I shot once into him before I regained control. The boy gave a gasp that sounded like surprise, then twitched all over. Crush was so tight it felt as though there was a powerful fist around me, squeezing my cock as hard as possible. His rectum was spasming around me. Was this what I thought it was? I managed to shove one hand under the boy’s hip and — it was! I felt wetness — a smear of slime soaked the boys still hard cock and his pubes! Straight-boy Crush had cum from being fucked! I had the urge to gloat, to say something that would make the kid feel bad, but I changed my mind. Instead I whispered in his ear. “You needed that, baby.” I paused. “You need this too,” I added, withdrawing an inch and then shoving back in hard. The boy took it, suddenly passive. I felt continual spasms inside as his body tried to force out what had entered it so deeply. It had the reverse effect. The sphincter’s tight grasp prevented me from going soft and the constant spasms inside kept me hard. I was far from done. Before going any farther I looked up at Joon, still kneeling next to us. “Take your clothes off,” I ordered flatly. Joon looked at me a second and then complied. He was already hard. I twisted Crush’s head around so he faced Joon. “Rub your cock in his face,” I instructed Joon. “I’m done with this asshole!” Joon replied contemptuously. “DO IT!” I barked. Joon took a breath, then complied, bending his slim, reddened cock downward, leaning his hips forward, and smashing it into Crush’s cheek. Crush tried to wriggle away but I held his head firmly in place. “Hey Byron, help us out here,” I called. Byron and Johnny appeared on my other side. Byron had already tossed aside his shorts and was tugging off his boxer briefs. He didn’t have to be told what to do. Kneeling next to Crush he stroked his huge black cock which was lengthening by the second. When he saw that Johnny fell to the mat next to Crush, reached out to Byron, and crammed the head of his cock into his wet, red little mouth. In just a few seconds Byron was almost totally hard and, like most really big cocks, his didn’t rise much above the horizontal, which was going to make it easier to mess with Crush with it. I gently pulled Johnny off Byron’s hot, glistening organ, then carefully turned Crush’s head and gave Byron a nod. Byron grabbed his cock in his fist and, with a little sneer, rubbed the big head all over the boy’s lips. “Taste that, you cocky motherfucker,” Byron muttered. “Looks like you haven’t made too many friends here, Maurice,” I said, pushing the boy’s blue locks aside and then kissing the back of his sweaty neck. Then I withdrew halfway and drove hard into him again. “Come on, man!” Crush whined. “Ah shit!” He began struggling again, trying to get out from underneath me. That wasn’t going to happen. I remained with my belly glued tight to the kid’s lower back, and Joon and Byron each had a grip on him too. Joon began jacking off with the other hand while Johnny worked on Byron’s dick. Struggle as he might the little prick was going to get truly fucked. I took a couple deep breaths and then began carefully and steadily fucking him. At first my strokes were short and slow, but soon I was able to draw most of the way out before thrusting in. I began working harder, sweat now gluing my belly to his lower back, my thighs to his thighs. Suddenly the boy cried out and arched back against me. He was cumming again! Despite the incredible pleasure of his fist-like rectum on my cock, the best thing of all was what was happening with Crush. The cocky grandstander, the super straight performer, so brash and self-assured, was getting off on getting screwed! Unlike most boys, he had cum, not once but twice, the very first time he’d gotten fucked. I loved it. I then began screwing him firm and hard. It was so fantastic I knew I’d come again soon if I tried anything faster. Could I make him cum a third time before I couldn’t hold back any more? Did he naturally love it that much? The boy had suddenly turned vocal. Almost every time I pounded him he would give a sharp cry, a gasp or some times a curse. I moved steadily in him. That little bit I had ejaculated already seemed to have lubricated the boy nicely, so while still incredibly tight, it felt easier. Meanwhile I heard Byron gasping by my left shoulder. “You close?” Joon panted, flogging his own red organ mercilessly. “Yeah.” “Do it at the same time.” Byron grunted, grabbed Johnny behind the head, thrust down his throat twice more and then suddenly, he shouted “OK!” Instantly Joon began shooting his load into Crush’s hair. In another second Byron pushed Johnny off him, smashed his cockhead against Crush’s panting mouth, and began unloading blast after blast after blast, while holding Crush immobile. Crush made helpless snorting noises as he tried to keep from drowning in a river of Byron’s thick cum. At this incredibly hot scene I couldn’t hold back any longer. Withdrawing almost all the way I pounded, pounded, pounded . . . The boy was now yelling “OH!” “OH!” “OH!” every time I slammed him. Then it hit me. “YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!” I ripped into the boy over and over again for what seemed like a minute, cumming and cumming into his hot sweaty body. Right in the middle I was dimly aware that he was arching up against me and must have been cumming again for a third time. Finally I collapsed onto the boy’s back, as he lay motionless in a pool of his own cum. We lay there while Joon’s own cum dried in his wild hair. Meanwhile Johnny licked up Byron’s huge load off of Crush’s cheek, nose, lips, eyes and forehead. So it seemed that a very upsetting day had actually turned out very well!

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