MIKE and RICHIE
Chapter 9
by Donny Mumford
Tom Brown's ridiculous so-called fetish is spanking boys, and he says I need a bare ass spanking. I'm momentarily flabbergasted, but now, still in Tom's headlock, I protest, "Spanking? Are you out of your fucking mind?" He grabs my ass, and I go, "Stop that!" and then answer Tom's question about Mike spanking me. "Of course he's never spanked me, ya idiot, now let go of my head!" Tom tightens his hold around my neck and I tighten my grip on this skimpy towel, which is the only thing preventing me from being bare ass naked. Tom's rubbing his nose along the side of my head, saying, "I liked your long hair much better.
Did Mike make you get it cut? I bet he threatened stop letting you suck his cock if you didn't... am I right?" I'm getting dizzy trying to follow Tom's constantly changing topic of conversation, but I mutter something about Mike not making me do anything, while at the same time, I'm thinking, "How'd Tom guess about Mike sorta being in charge, and about me sucking Mike off, and I guess it actually was Mike who instructed the barber about how to cut my hair. What the fuck, is this guy a mind-reader or something?" Tom goes, "Oh, so Mike doesn't make you do anything. Does that mean he'd let you suck him off even if you didn't get your haircut?" Without thinking, I say, "Of course!" Then sputter,
"No, what I mean is that Tom didn't, I mean, Mike didn't make me suck him off." This has Tom chuckling again, as he says, "Of course, I wouldn't make you suck me off, and neither would Mike. I'm guessing you begged him to let you suck him off and you're probably thinking about begging me to let you suck me off too. Am I right?" It's as if nothing I can say will straighten out this convoluted conversation. So I don't try, instead I calmly ask, "Please, Tom, let go of me... this is silly. Let's drop this dog and pony act and I'll get dressed and we can hang out if ya want. Or, is there something you want that I can help you with?" He responds in monotone, "Well, aren't you the dense one though. Hey, I already told you I want to give you a good, hard, bare-ass spanking and you desperately need one, so what I need is your cooperation." I do another exasperated exhale, and he goes, "Ya know Richie, you really should pay closer attention to what people do and say around you; life might pass you right by." I again say, "This is nonsense, let go of me or we're gonna have to go at it. I've tried being patient, but this is ridiculous!" Tom pretends to give in, and says, "Well, if you're dead set against me spanking you, how 'bout a kiss instead? After all, I do have that crush on you; the one we talked about earlier. You do remember, don't you Richie?" There had been some mention of a crush, but I don't want to kiss him, and I say so. Tom laughs, and says, "That's so stuck-up of you," as he's twisting my head sideways and then kisses me on the mouth. I'm struggling to pull my head away, but Tom's too strong for me and in my struggles my lip gets cut on one of his teeth. I'm exhausted and just sit there at the table with Tom sucking on my lip till the bleeding stops. The way he has me around my neck prevents me moving much without cutting off my air. Somewhere along the way, as he's sucking on my lip, my dick starts to firm up a little, which I find interesting because it's the first time any boy other than Mike has made my dick move. Now that I think about it, I've never been even slightly intimate with anyone except Mike... and . of course, now with this forced intimacy of Tom Brown, who has an awesomely sexy scent about him, by the way.
But, as I said, I'm exhausted so I beg, "Please, Tom, I don't feel well. Won't you please leave?" He loosens his hold around my neck and tells me directly he has no intentions of going anywhere until I get the spanking I need so badly.
He goes on in this pompously serious manner, "I feel it's my responsibility, as a close friend and neighbor, to provide you the spanking you so desperately need. I will not shirk that responsibility, like some people I could name." My hand holding that little towel around my waist is cramping badly now... we need to find some resolution before I find myself sitting here as naked as the day I was born. This has become way past awkward. Tom explains why he feels I need the spanking in the first place. He lists his reasons, licking my ear after each one, and the ear licking is strangely sexy; I'm going to try it with Mike. Tom says, "You lied about not being gay, that's reason enough. Reason number two, you've admitted to being a snob by not including me when you and Mike are messin' around, and reason number three is that you have poor manners, you're rude too, and lastly, you're simply not neighborly!" What can I say to that load of crap? What I do say, after another long exhale, "None of that is true, except the gay part, I guess. I mean the gay part where you said you're gay" Now I'm pissed at myself for seemingly admitting to Tom that I'm gay.
He immediately says he won't tell Mike that I'd told him about Mike and me being gay, and he won't tell Mike about our morning here, and he promises not to tell Mike about our kiss, but only if I'll cooperate with his spanking plans. I feel like crying, and I'm hating on Tom Brown with a passion. "This is so horrible and so unfair, Tom. Why are you doing this to me? I never did anything to you. Well, have I?" He says, "You're getting me angry, I just told you all the naughty things you've done; you're getting a spanking and that's all there is to it!. And, it's for my own good too, so take that goddamn towel off and no more back talk." I'm thinking things through... if he tells Mike about this Mike will believe me for the most part, but there are aspects of this morning I don't want Mike to need to think about. He's finally coming back, he don't need this shit. Tom's exasperated, "I've been nice about this long enough, Richie. I'll keep our secrets from Mike and you'll thank me for the spanking later. So enough! Let's look at your bedroom and see if that will be a better spot than the kitchen. And, take that god damn towel off!" I'm slumping at the table pouting, feeling that defeat is unavoidable. Tom gets a hand under each of my armpits and pulls me up, saying, "Stand up right this second and give me the towel. " Oh fuck it! I stop resisting and get up, and hand him the towel feeling so creepy standing in front of him completely naked.
My face get immediately red as he points across the hall triumphantly, ordering me to, "Get your naked ass into your bedroom." Still with the defeated slumped shoulders, I walk into my bedroom with Tom following. Inside Tom goes into the bathroom, I stand next to my bed playing with my dick and feeling low as he rustles around in the medicine chest.
I try to deaden my mind so I can get through whatever Tom has in mind, like a zombie, and afterward I'll totally forget it ever happened. He'll never get the upper hand on me again because I'm steering clear of him and when I can't avoid contact I'll be on constant alert and use a weapon, if necessary, to keep him away from me. I mean a weapon like a chair or a bottle, or whatever so that next time he tries this he's going to know he's been in a fight! By now I'm so used to being naked for Mike, standing here bare-ass naked now isn't a big deal. That is, once I'd gotten over the shock of it in the kitchen. When Tom comes back in the bedroom he's got a bright cheerful expression on his face and, hell, he is a very good looking boy. "Look what I found in your medicine cabinet, Richie. Just what the doctor ordered, a big tube of Neosporin Pain Reliving Ointment. It prevents infection too!" I look at him blankly and he waves a hand at me in a surprisingly feminine way, and says, "Oh, you'll be glad you had this in the medicine cabinet before long. Now, pull that straight back desk chair over here, and do it quickly because I do not have all fucking day to help you out with this". I'm resigned to getting this over with, as I said before, and it's mostly because Mike's coming back to live with me and I'm not going to let this sadistic prick ruin it for me. Oh yeah, and here's another thing: Tom Brown's already told us he's only living here temporarily while their new house is being built, so he'll be moving away in the near future.
I'll take his spanking, and then, like I said, I'll do everything I can to avoid him in the future; and then he'll be gone. I pull the chair over and Tom sits down on it, saying, "Right! Good, you can follow directions. Now, lay across my lap and support yourself on either side of me with your feet on one side and your hands on the floor on the other side... and during your bad-boy spanking do not put your hands up to block the spanking on your ass or I'll need to tie them behind your back."
As I'm reluctantly getting in position, he mumbles, to himself probably, "And tying you up isn't a bad idea." Fuck him! I thought this situation was way past awkward before, but now, laying across his lap with my dick pressed against his crotch takes it up a couple of notches on the awkward scale. Thank God he's not boned up. I say, "Tom, this is so sick; please, lets not do this. Isn't there some other way you can satisfy your... your, whatever? Your fetish, I guess." He gives my ass a loud, "SMACK!" and I'm like, "OW!" It surprises me how much that stings. "Shut up, you!" Tom says, chuckling. "No, ya can't satisfy a spanking fetish by smelling someones feet: that would be a foot fetish, an entirely different thing." My ass is stinging still from that one smack, and what the fuck's he saying about feet? "You're not in the proper position, squirm around on my lap a little: I'll tell you when you've got it right." "Tom, please, I feel like suck a..." "SMACK!!" Ow owe, god dammit! That hurt." Tom, sounding stern, "No talking! Move your crotch between my thighs." It really stings back there so I jostle around until my junk is hanging between Tom's thighs and he closes them tightly holding my balls and dick in place; I can't move or he'll squash my nuts. "Good boy! I got ya just where I want ya now." He massages my ass with both hands, then spreads my ass cheeks apart, asking, "Do you use some kind of hair depilatory on your ass?" I'm like, "Depilatory? What's that?" He's rubbing the pad of his finger over my anus, around and around, as he answers, "It dissolves hair, like Nair for men. You don't have a hair on your ass, and that's rare!" I say, "All the bloods running to my head, Tom. Can we get on with this? And, no, I never heard of that and I don't do anything to my ass except clean it." "SMACK! SMACK!" "FUCK!! That hurts! Ow, god dammit!" He lectures, "You're being a rude wise-ass again, which is one of the reasons you need to be spanked in the first place." I don't say anything 'cause they really are stinging slaps on my ass; I'm just gonna get this over with. My silence pleases Tom temporarily, but then he tightens his legs on my nuts and my response is merely a muffled. "Owww," Tom mumbles, "Good, you've learned to keep your pie hole shut!" I feel stupid and pissed-off and humiliated, but thankfully it's only this prick Tom Brown and me who will ever know about this, so I guess I can survive it, but why me? Why is Tom attracted to me? Do I come off as a wimpy victim type, or what? If I get the chance for pay back, this son-of-a-bitch will find out how wimpy I am! He's got the side of his hand in my ass crack now and, for some reason, I think back to that time Mike gave me a spanking, a pretend spanking actually, on the boardwalk... it was months ago. Mike never did spank me though, just played with my ass and I kind of liked that; not that Tom's massaging hands feel horrible, I'm just not into him like I am Mike.
Then, through my private musings I realize Tom is talking; he's using that manner of speaking as if he's lecturing: "Basically, Richie, your ass now belongs to me. You're not going anywhere without your balls and that skinny cock of yours, and I got those items locked up, so ta speak. Let me show ya."
He again squeezes his thighs together tighter and I see stars with the pain.
"Okay, okay, Tom, please, I got it! You have me in a helpless position, but don't squeeze my nuts so hard; I'll throw up." Tom mutters, "Go ahead and throw up if you want, but if you squirm on my lap while I'm spanking you, I'll squeeze your nuts to a fine powder. Got it?" "Yeah, I won't squirm, but please do the spanking so we can be through with this." Tom does a pretend tightening of his thighs, and I squeak out, "I'm sorry, don't..." He goes, "You're such a naughty boy! Now stop complaining. I want you to balance yourself on my lap using your toes on one side and your hands on the other. I like my boy's asses to be steady, and by the way, you've got the finest ass I've ever seen. Two perfect bubble butt cheeks! Hairless, plump, pink, yet firm and, well... perfect. My two NewYork spanky boys have lots of hair on there cute asses, but I make them keep them shaved, but neither of them can compare with the shape of your ass. Your ass is what first attracted me to you, you lucky boy. Speaking of lucky, I'll bet Mike loves fucking you, don't he?" I mumble, "No, he doesn't fuck me." Tom goes, "Liar! But that's okay, I like when my New Jersey spanky boy lie to me 'cause that means I need to spank them some more. Heh heh!" His left hand holds my hip, not that I'm going anyplace anyway. "Let's try this Richie" and I feel wetness on my ass. Straining my head around at an awkward angle I see him leaning his head over near my ass drooling spit on my hole then lazily rubbing it on the lips of my anus and pushing at my hole causing me to involuntarily squirm on his lap which results in him clamping his thighs together squishing my balls, and this time I scream out from the pain. In a low, calm voice, Tom says, "Don't squirm Richie and I won't squeeze your nuts; I already told you that." I whine, "You didn't say anything about doing that spitting thing on my ass or the finger in my bum hole; that's not a spanking." "SMACK!" and I quietly go, "Ow, ow," but other than that, keep my mouth shut this time. Tom mutters, "You'll learn eventually, " and with that he pushes his finger past my anus, some of his spit goes inside my hole with his finger. He works it around a little as I will myself to stay still on his lap. My sphincter muscles immediately closes tightly around his finger, which he's slowly inserting up my rectum. As it goes further and further up my ass, he asks, "Feel good, does it?" I'm not sure if I'm suppose to answer or not so I do a noncommittal grunt as Tom continues in his lecturing manner, "This is the hygiene check-up part of the spanking; I do it as a courtesy for my spanky boys. Just relax, I know you've had much bigger things than my finger up here, unless Mike has a very skinny penis; does he." I take a chance, and say, "I don't think so," which makes Tom laugh, for some reason, then mutter, "I'll bet you don't."
He's rotating his finger inside me for a minute or so until he finds that button, my prostate, that Mike stimulates with the fat head of his cock so well, and Tom works on it now with his finger and that feels awesome too; it creates the feeling of cuming. My balls start churning cum and it takes all my will power not to squirm around or moan at the pleasure sensations; I bite my lip and clench my mouth and eyes closed. As I'm getting very close to shooting off a cum load, a moan, "Ahhh, mmmmm" slips out from my throat and I hate myself for letting it, but it does feel sexy and good. Tom goes, "Ha ha! I knew ya couldn't hold it in forever; felt like you were just about to cum, didn't you?"
I take that as a rhetorical question, but do the noncommittal grunt just the same feeling a great relief that I haven't humiliated myself further by having an orgasm between his legs. Sweat's running from under my arms and off my forehead because it's taking a real effort to hold myself in this position. The realization that this is actually happening to me, and that there's nothing I can do about it, makes my eyes water and then tears roll out of them. I moved my head over and wiped my eyes on my forearm, as Tom says, "It's okay to cry; I advise you to 'cause it shows me you understand you've been a bad boy and that you're sorry. Am I right, Richie?" I'm gonna kill this motherfucker when I get the chance, but for now I'm thinking the more I go along with his perverted program, the quicker he'll be satisfied he's made his point; whatever the fuck his point is. To that end, I mumble, "Yes, I see what you mean, Tom." He goes, "Good boy. Ya know, in New York, I had this spanky boy, Drew, who eventually got hooked on me spanking him and he'd come around to the house all the time nagging me to give him a spanking. And, let me tell ya, I didn't turn him down very often. Ha ha ha. Good old Drew." Tom seems to take it for granted that I'll do whatever I need to to keep my proper position on his lap; actually, he seems to take for granted that I'll do everything he wants me to, sooner or later.
Pulling his finger out of my ass, Tom murmurs, "Hmmm, just as I suspected; you don't clean yourself properly. Very poor hygiene; my finger is all stinky, Richie." I hear a long sniffing sound and then Tom says, "You'll clean this finger for me in a bit, but for now let's do your spanking. Okay, you ready for your spanking, naughty boy?" I don't think he wants an answer to that either, so I grunt again and he repeats himself, "Are you ready for your spanking, naughty boy?" I say, "Let's get it over with, yes." Tom's like, "Well, ask me to start then. And don't forget to say, please." I exhale with frustration, and mumbled, "Tom, please start." To that Tom retorts, "I can't read minds, Richie. Be specific." I feel real hatred for him; it's felt so deeply that it's almost a physical presence, but I force myself to politely say, "Tom, please start spanking me." I need to get this over with and then plot my revenge! Somehow I also need to make sure Mike never finds out, so my revenge could be problematic. but Tom's gonna pay for this one way or another. Interrupting my thoughts, Tom's hand comes smacking across my ass and it stings like hell. He follows that up with about a dozen leisurely applied smacks with a rub or a grab of my ass cheek between each one. Every smack stings, for sure, but this whole situation is so odd it's almost fascinating and as much as I hate myself for doing it, I get a bit of a stiffy realizing how dominating Tom is. Fuck, I don't know what to make of that except maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it was going to be. Of course, I still feel awfully stupid laying across Tom's lap and now, to add to that humiliation, I'm laying here with a good start on a boner. This prick knows a lot about getting control of a situation, he seems to know a lot about kinky sex too. I stop have random thoughts when the number of smacks on my ass and the back of my thighs begin adding up; the stinging becomes more of a concern now, and then quickly becomes a major concern as the painfulness of each additional smack increases.
Spanking on the same spots over and over is a torture and my brain begins dreading the next smack before the current smack even stops stinging. Without thinking about it consciously a point has been reached where the pain is too much and as I start to squirm one of my hands goes up to cover my ass in an attempt to block the next spank. Tom clamps my nuts between his hard thighs and tears begin flowing now and he bends my arm up my back, then he takes the pain level up by doing a half dozed fast smacks on my left buttocks getting me crying now. I can't believe I'm crying, but my body goes limp and I'm docilely quietly crying with no fight left in me; totally defeated. He stops spanking and does some rubbing of my buttocks as, between sobs, I'm going, "Please, Tom, I've learned my lesson, please stop." I actually feel his cock grow hard, under me as I'm begging. He takes a deep breath... this must be what turns him on; that is, breaking the will of his victim, or maybe I'm not thinking straight at the moment. He's still maintaining enough pressure on my balls to cause that sick painful feeling all around my groin, when he asks, "You ready to be a good boy?" I swear, I was gonna say 'yes' but it caught in my throat and I coughed out a weak noise that sorta sounded like the word "fuck", which got Tom viciously whacking on my ass. He's like a wild man and I'm openly blubbering like a five year old, begging him to stop, calling out in between blubbers, "Please, I'll be good! I'll be good!"
Tom's arm probably got tired, but whatever the reason, he finally stops and my ass is on fire. The pain doesn't stop when he stops spanking me though, in fact it seemed to grow to a crescendo and my teeth are clamped together as I breath nosily through my nose and try dealing with the pain; mucus and tears streaking my face. Somewhere in my head I'm thinking, "How did it get this bad, this fast?" I never would have imagined a spanking could inflict this much pain. Ya know, 'a spanking' doesn't sound so bad, but this; this is very nasty. Also, laying on Tom's boner is like laying on a steel pipe, one that's leaking, which only adds to my discomfort. His precum's soaked through his khakis pants, and in a breathless way, he asks, "What was that, Richie?" I tried to gather myself together, and then, in as respectful way as I can manage, I say, "Please don't spank me anymore, Tom, I'll be good.". My ass is really, really hurting me and I don't care if I need to grovel, I want out of this. When I accomplish that goal, we'll just see how crazy I get with pay back. Tom's aroused, he's taking deep breaths while humping his crotch into my belly and rubbing my burning ass which I wish he'd stop doing, but I'm afraid to ask. When he says nothing, just continues the deep breathing and slight humping, I ask meekly, "Is there something else I should be doing or saying? I mean, I want to thank you for not spanking me any more and I'll be more neighborly, with better manners, and all." Through his heavy breathing, he grunts, "You'd better," then he doesn't say anything else for a minute or so and I realize the back of my thighs are stinging as badly as my ass, tears continue running from my eyes but I've now managed to stop the sobbing at least. "I'm just resting a bit, Richie, in case you're wondering. This takes a hell of a lot of energy." He moans another tiny moan and does a big hump of his hips, then another one, and then he reaches over with the hand he spanked me with to hold me at the hip, pulling my side into his stomach, humping steadily driving his boner against me, Tom's making long wheezing sounds almost like he's in pain, with an occasional mumbled, "Mmmm, oh God this is awesome." Tom's apparently unconcerned it's obviously to me what he's doing, but why should that surprise me. He told me he's gay and that he has a spanking fetish; why wouldn't he be sexually aroused to climax in this situation? A long moan from him and I feel a lot more wetness on my belly as he obviously climaxes with two last humps that lift me up and more cum quickly soaks through his pants and onto my bare belly feeling sticky and thick. In that out-of-breath voice, he says, "See, I told you I have this fetish. Spanking you and getting you to beg made me to stop made me cum in my pants, and I didn't even need to touch my cock!" Taking in more air, and slowly calming down, he continued holding me tightly on his lap. Then, sounding irritated, he asks, "Didn't you get boned up? Not even a little?" I could tell his question was a serious one. He's sincerely surprised I hadn't gotten turned-on from that painful spanking... oh man, this sick bastard is gonna get it back so bad! Yeah, but the problem is I know myself and I'll have a hard time working up the necessary anger to be vicious enough to do revenge properly; and Mike can't help. So, who? Hmmmm? I'll give that some thought.
Right now I'm so relieved the spanking's over I almost feel grateful to Tom for stopping it, and I know that's stupid; I need to be furious at him, not grateful. Later for that; mostly I don't want him to start up again so I answer his 'boner' question as if it makes sense, which it doesn't; I mean, who would get sexually aroused getting their ass whipped? Get real! I try for sincerity when I say, "Um, no Tom, I honestly didn't get a boner because, frankly, you gave me a major spanking and it hurt too much to think about my dick. I, ah... that is, my dick moved around when you sucked on my lip though; so that's almost a boner." Tom's breathing is back to normal and his dick's back to normal too, meaning I can't really feel it in it's flaccid state unless. I timidly ask, "Are we done now, Tom?" He goes, "Done? No, I'll finish your spanking for you and maybe then you'll finally get that boner you mentioned." He's the one that mentioned a boner, not me. I can't keep myself from whining again, "Please, don't do any more spanking today, my ass is too sore." He picks up that I added the word 'today' in my whine, and he goes, "Oh, so you don't want me to finish today, meaning we'll need to finish another day real soon. Can I trust you to cooperate?" I can't take anymore now, that's for sure, so I lie. "I promise, Tom, I'll cooperate with you" as I'm thinking, "I'll cooperate as soon as hell freezes over." The pain on my ass and the back of my thighs is still a burning, stinging nightmare. The thought of him smacking again on those buttocks of mine has me almost peeing myself. Tom's quietly rubbing my back, his thighs are barely touching my balls now and it's peaceful compared to three minutes ago... and I get this stupid feeling that Tom's not so bad after all. It sneaks up on me before I can think straight, especially when he says, "Aw, I'm a softy; I really should finish this now, and not for my benefit either, I already got off. It's for your benefit I should finish up with the second half of your spanking. If I finish spanking you now it's out of the way so ya don't have it hanging over your head, but if you're sure you want to put it off I'll go along with your wishes. Hell, I told ya I had a crush on you before you were rude and snobby to me." I keep the phony sincerity in my voice, saying, "Thanks, Tom, that's nice of you." He goes, "As you wish. Just stay put for now, I'll grab the tube of this Neosporin pain relief ointment, which I told you you'll be happy I found in your medicine chest. He's taking the cap off the tube, saying, "I'll rub this all over these bright red ass-cheeks of yours. They look like two red traffic lights." I feel the soothing cream then, and it begins to alleviate the burning immediately. As he smears it around my buttocks he's making a quiet, "Mmmmmm," sound, muttering, "Really nice" to himself. My stomach's wet with his cum and it's now cooled and is quite uncomfortable, but my ass is feeling much better and the absence of the pain has my eyes tearing up again, and then here comes that irrational feeling of gratitude to Tom for stopping the spanking; oh hell, I'll get my emotions straightened out later. For now: sweet blessed relief from the stinging and burning, especially on the back of my thighs.
As he's finishing covering all over my buttocks and thighs, I say, "Thank you so much, Tom. That feels so nice." He's like, "Okay Richie, glad ya feel better, but I can start the spanking up again anytime I need to, so just do what your told and you'll be fine. Slide off my lap now and kneel right in front of me between my legs." I'm so glad to be off his lap I try to do what he wants quickly without scraping my ass on anything, or sitting back on my thighs. As soon as I'm on my knees between his legs he hooks his index finger under my chin and pulls my head up, as he says, "Pick your head up, and look at me." I look into his eyes and again I'm startled at how identical they are to mine; both of us have the same shade of green in our eyes. He smiles smugly at me, "That wasn't so bad, was it? " I say, " Oh, ah... it was really painful; I can't think of anything that's been as painful in my life. No offense, just want to be honest with you, Tom." He reaches over and rubs my buzzed head, saying, "Sit up straighter!", and I do as he asks, "You haven't felt any sexual arousal this morning except for when I sucked your cut lip, is that right? I go, "Yeah, that's about it." I didn't tell him about the early stiffy I'd gotten because I can't believe I was sexually aroused by him. All of a sudden I'm wondering, "What the fuck am I doing in this position? He better not think he's getting me to suck his cock!" I don't know what he's thinking; he's looking at me like maybe he really does have a little bit of a crush on me. I can't hold his stare and look down getting pissed off again at myself for feeling weak. He quietly says, "I have a spanking fetish, but it's too bad I have to hurt you if it doesn't get you boned-up. Maybe if I whipped you you'd get boned up. I know I would, and you asked to be tied-up I believe so we'll do that for your next spanking which I want to do tomorrow or the day after at the latest, blab, blab, blab..." He's smirking down at me as he talks and I'm back to looking attentively into his eyes pretending to be paying attention, as if he's actually saying something that made sense instead of the ramblings of an unbalanced person. For the first time I get a spike of fear; is he insane, do ya think? He smugly says, "A lot of guys get off being spanked and they would have loved this experience that I created for you. I thought you might be one of those guys, but I guess you're not." This is so boring I look away, and he adds, "I don't suppose you appreciated the effort necessary on my part, do you? Huh?" The relief by now is so great I'm not feeling the hate for Tom I'd felt before, but the idea of him now wanting me to thank him for this painful humiliation is mind boggling; maybe he is insane. On the other hand, to be fair, he did stop before he thought my spanking was completed, and he did put that cream on my sore ass to cover up the pain, and he's been nice enough after the spanking, but still, I simply can't think of a real positive thing to say, and I'm not saying 'thanks for the spanking'! What I do is mumble, "I guess I don't know as much about this stuff as you do, Tom. I'm very appreciative that you stopped spanking me though,and that you used the cream to stop the pain.
Thank you for that." Tom shrugs, and casually says, "Well, Dude, I thought for sure we'd have something hot going on between us, but obviously I just wasted my time and effort." In my head I'm willing to leave it at that for now; he's definitely a little nuts, but probably not insane, thank God!
Then, as if he's excusing some injustice I've done to him, he rubs my head, and goes, "No problem, that's okay," and when I raise my hand to push his hand away, Tom cries, "No! Don't move, put your hands behind your back, right now. Do it!." Without thinking, and maybe getting used to taking orders from him, I clasped my hands behind my back, asking , "Why do you want me to keep my hands behind me, Tom?" Tom, now using a no-nonsense tone, tells me, "Just a few minutes more. We've got one more little matter to take care of." I nod my head thinking, "Anything! Just get done with it and leave!" I'm figuring I've come this far, so just go along for a little bit more and be done with him. Tom puts his middle finger right under my nose and I smell the shit stain on it right away. He rubs it hard on my lip, right under my nose. "Yep, that's your dirty stink, Richie. Just clean my finger and we're just about through." I looked incredulously at him. He's beaming, as he orders, "Open up Richie." I'm thinking, "Just when ya think something can't get any worse...." I'm shaking my head back and forth, muttering, "Ah, no....I'm not putting that in my mouth." I say it in the least offending manner possible 'cause I don't want this psycho going section eight on me again, but let's get serious; he had that finger up my ass. In an exasperated way, Tom blurts out, "Why do you make everything so fucking complicated? This stink's from your body, not mine. I go to all the trouble to check your prostate for you, getting your shit all over my finger in the process because you don't wash properly, and you don't want to clean it! Is that it?" I nod my head indicating, 'yeah, that's it!' He shakes his head, and goes, "Now, we're just about finished, but instead you won't do this one little thing which means now I'll need to apologize to Mike for kissing you, and spanking you, and fingering your cute ass? Is that it? You want the three of us to discuss this?" I open my mouth without another word; Tom sighs, like he has to do all the heavy lifting; then sticks that shity finger in my mouth. "Good boy! Suck and lick my finger until it don't stink no more, Richie. This ain't brain surgery."
While I'm doing that Tom goes into a long narrative about how much he misses his New York spanky boys. He reminisces about the things they use to do together and wonders did I think I'd like to try some of those things. The acrid shit taste and revolting smell that's stuck under my nose almost has me throwing up, but I hold it together all the time thinking, "I'll do some of those things he talked about with his so-called New York spanky boys right after I learn to fly like a bird." About two minutes of sucking and licking did the trick. Tom pulls his saliva laden finger out, smells it, and pronounces it clean. He says, "Get up Richie and run some cold water in your bath tub. Go ahead, do it right now." What this? I thought we were done, but I go into the bathroom, put the stopper in the drain, and turned on just cold water. Tom comes in carry all four of the refrigerator freezer's frozen ice cube trays and dumped the ice in the tub. "Sit in there, Richie. I don't want your ass cheeks to swell up on you. " I'm getting real use to doing what I'm told, but when I sit down...WOW!! What a shock that freezing cold water is. Tom holds me down in that freezing water and soon I'm numb and feel nothing. No pain whatsoever. "It's just to keep swelling away," Tom tells me for the second time. I nod my head knowing he wants me to thank him for being considerate, but I won't. He's going through my medicine cabinet again, then turns around to hold out a bottle of mouth wash and a glass, "Here, Richie, gargle out the shit taste, and spit it in the glass. I gratefully did it three times. Then, using a clean washcloth he rubbed my upper lip clean of the shit smell! After that he just sat with me and told me some of the things he liked about me. I don't know how he knows so much about me, but he does. I sat naked in four inches of cold water listening to him, feeling like I'm in the twilight zone. He says Mike's lucky to have me as a boyfriend, but that it's obvious I need spanking now and again and Mike's been shirking his responsibilities in that area. I didn't bother arguing that Mike and I weren't doing gay things with each other because it's obvious that somehow Tom knows we are. After a while he tells me to stand up and he gently pats me dry. When thawed out I feel some residual stinging on my backside and the back of my thighs so Tom gets me to lie on my stomach on my bed and he gently applies more ointment and the pain disappears. He apparently likes touching my body and it does feel nice. "Have you ever had a real massage, Richie?" I told him I hadn't. I'm real tired and pretty much completely defeated as I lay here naked on my bed.
Tom's got a lot of energy left and is still very much in control. He begins gently massaging my shoulders and down my back and it's a weird sensation at first, but quickly becomes very relaxing and soothing. Neither of us talk and after a while he's massaging with more pressure and it feels wonderful. Up the back of my neck and all over my scalp, then down my back and, without tickling my sides, he puts pressure here and there and I quietly moan, surprising myself. It's a different kind of pleasure, but different or not, after awhile I'm getting a stiffy again. Tom's doing my feet now and then my calf muscles and up my thighs, stopping below where he'd spanked me. It all feels so nice and I almost dozed off until I hear, "Turn over now, Richie." I turn over in almost a trance of mellowness, and he put a pillow under my ass elevating my crotch so my semi-hard cock is halfway pointing at the ceiling. Tom methodically works his way down my body starting at the front of my head and
scalp, then the sides of my head, the front of my shoulders and chest, belly, and legs; then my feet again. My elevated crotch and my twitching half erect penis embarrasses me at first, but I get use to it as everything is just feeling so good, and especially so when contrasting this to being spanked.
It's all so new to me, so different and totally wonderful as long as I don't think about it too much. The massage is traveling up my legs and then some more rubbing on my belly down close to my pubes and I begin getting chills and shivers as my body feels alive and fantastically stimulated from head to toe.
It's been almost total silence for twenty minutes and my eyes are partially closed as Tom quietly, almost in a whisper from far off, says "I'm going to massage your balls and penis a little now, Richie. Just stay relaxed." He barely touches my dick with light soft strokes, then runs his fingers through my pubes before rubbing and caressing my belly all around my cock. With his other hand he cups my balls and pulls them away from my body squeezing them with light to hard pressure. I'm squirming and moaning, feeling cum churning in my nuts. Quickly he has me very hard, my boner's straining to get bigger as it stands straight up. I don't want to, but I mumble, "Oh man, Tom. That does feel good." The next thing I feel is a wet, warm, soft sensation on my boner.
I open my eyes to see Tom has engulfed my cock in his mouth. He's looking up right into my eyes and, God help me, but he looks so hot and sexy. He's very nice looking, and I've never had a blow job, so I give him a small grin. He increased his sucking and it's startling to feel fabulous. Tom takes me right into his throat, just like I do for Mike, and I start grabbing at Tom's head and hair making gulping sounds; it's so sexy and intimate I know I'm not gonna last long. I can feel my balls tightening up and the head of my cock has that feeling I always get just before I climax. I'm going. "Oh, oh, ah. ah, ahhh , AHHH! OOOH! Tom, Tom!" and then I gush cum down Tom's throat; four or five good shots as I make girly sounds and squirm on the bed. My ass pain is long forgotten. Tom sucks me dry, then, without saying anything, he climbs up on the bed and lays down next to me, hugging me to him. When he's getting up on bed I see the big wet cum stain on his pants, and his new boner is poking the lap of his pants out, but Tom appears not to care a twit about either of those things.
The way he's holding me is so comfortable.; my body had been so relaxed from the massage and then so taut when Tom sucked me off, and even more taut, like a wire spring ready to snap, when I climaxed. Now I feel all safe, soft, and cuddly again and now I'm not at all sure Tom's crazy; maybe just eccentric. Somewhere along the way I fall asleep in Tom's arms and it must have been for an hour or so because I feel rested when I wake up. Tom's sitting in the desk chair drinking the rest of my coffee that he'd microwaved, steam drifting up from the cup. I'm under the top sheet that Tom somehow got me under and when I roll over he looks up, and says, "You fell asleep; I didn't want to leave until we talked." As I lay in bed he tells me again that he'd thought I was a submissive boy who'd get off on being spanked, and he's sorry it didn't work out. He said he was sorry but he didn't sound sorry at all. He made it seem like it was my fault things didn't work out the way he expected them to; some sort of deficiency on my part. Let's just say Tom Brown is behaving pretty much like Tom Brown usually behaves, and not like he behaved earlier, giving me the massage, blow job, and cuddles. That behavior appears to be the aberration and the bully pompous one is the norm. Or, maybe his true self came out when he was being considerate, or maybe this is his true self and the other is an act he uses... who the fuck knows? He's now back to displaying a superiority attitude, like he's giving a lecture at some symposium on the reality of spanking to a crowd of slow learners; me being his audience. Amazingly, my ass was tender but not real painful; it's about like having a light sunburn. I half listened to his pompous words wondering if he even knows who the real Tom Brown is. He's saying if I want to tell Mike, or anybody for that matter,
about our morning activities he wouldn't deny anything because he's proud of how much he's helped me today. I needed a spanking very badly and while I still need the other half of the spanking he can see the improvement in my behavior already. He doesn't imagine I'll want to share our experience with anyone, but if I did, I'm to feel free to. Duh! Yeah, I can't wait to tell the guys how I let myself be so totally dominated. Naturally, I have no intention of telling anyone about this, and once again I'm back to thinking there's a good chance that Tom's crazy.
Just before he left, in that off-hand manner of his, Tom says, "Well Richie, I had a blast this morning and I think if you're honest with yourself, you did too. If you think about this later and realize the potential here for sexy fun; hell, just give me a wave. Your spanking will always come first, though; it'll always be me spanking you and then we'll see what else I have in store for you that'll make you feel real good. Okay?" Is he shitting me? Oh yeah, he's crazy alright. Sarcastically, I tell him that when I need a spanking, he's my guy. Tom smirks at that, and says, "You liked it. I know you did. Lie to yourself if you must, but you liked it. See ya around, Richie." I thought to myself, "Not if I see you first!" I hear the front door slam, but stay in bed naked like Mike likes me to be, and Tom too, apparently. I need to try analyzing this off-the-wall experience; it's unthinkable in many ways, but probably fairly routine for guys that go in for this sort of thing. It's called something, but I can't remember what. Thinking about the spanking all I remember is how it eventually got to hurting something terrible, but from there my mind drifts to the other feelings of pleasure, like the pain cream on my ass and thighs, and the massage, and especially the oral sex. Holy shit, my first blow job, and that was something. Incredibly I get a boner thinking about it, and not only a boner, but one wet at the head and I end up jerking off grunting as I fist my hard cock under the sheet until a small eruption has me squealing out loud. I drag up the small amount of cum that my balls has produced in the last hour; not much volume, but it felt awfully good. Then, running over the entire ordeal again in my head beginning with the knock at the door, I try remembering each detail and got pretty far into it without seeing how I could have reasonably avoided most of it... then I fell asleep again. When I wake up this time it's almost noon so I guess Tom had taken a lot out of me, although I feel kinda good now. I kid myself by imagining me asking Tom, "Please give me another spanking." or maybe I'll say, "Tom, if you have a minute could you finish my spanking now, please." Riiiight! It's been an experience though, and it's funny how fast I've gotten over my hate-o-rama of Tom. I don't feel I need to kill him now, he almost redeemed himself in the end. I wonder how, when, and where he learned all that stuff.
We're the same age and I don't know anything, not compared to him. Damn, should I have a guilty conscience as far as Mike's concerned? Hmmmm, I really don't feel like I should because I mostly had no choice. The guilty part is keeping the secret of what Tom Brown did from Mike; that can't possibly be a good thing, but the alternative ain't so great either. Best to let this memory fade away and pray Tom keeps his part of the bargain; I did everything he wanted, so he should keep his trap shut!
With that decision made, I jump out of bed and take my second shower of the day. Mike's coming back as early as tomorrow afternoon and that'll be my focus from now on. My ass burns a little in the shower so, after drying myself, I used the rest of that ointment. Looking back there I see that my ass and the back of my thighs are still quite pink. Thinking that I hope Mike doesn't say anything about my reddish ass, when a concept pops into my head: Mike sucking my cock. Funny that he has me so well programmed that the thought of him blowing me just doesn't occur to me. I think nothing of blowing Mike, but I never expect him to reciprocate. Why is that? I think it's because of his preposterous clain that he does gay sex only as a favor to me; him being straight precludes him from sucking my dick. I need to think of a way to bring up the idea to Mike that the favor to me should include him sucking me off too, like maybe sixty-nine-ing. Hmmm, realistically that probably won't work, but I'll keep thinking about a way that will work. The pain cream helped my stinging ass a lot and it was pretty much back to a normal condition by Sunday. Some snow started falling again late Sunday morning and Mike called to say that Monday after school would be a better day for him to move back in. Life is full of disappointments, but this is just a twenty-four hour disappointment so I can cope. After school on Monday I took the number 9 school bus with Mike which drops us off a mile from his mother's office on the farm where she works. We walk the mile in slushy snow and, after having coffee with her, Mike borrows her car to use transferring his clothes and his other belongings from their condo to my place. We used the car 'cause it's not safe taking the motorbike out in icy conditions. His mother's in an upbeat mood when she sees me, giving me this big hug and a kiss telling me how happy she is that Mike's going to be staying with me again. "I'll miss him like crazy, but moping around like he's been doing this past month isn't healthy for him, and I know you'll take care of that, right Richie?" She's real sincere, hugging Mike's shoulders as she says
those things. It's obvious she loves him to death and Mike just hangs his head, and said, "Awwww, Mom!" I thought her comment,"you'll take care of that, right Ritchie?" unusual and I'm not at all sure what she's referring to. Just a throw away line maybe and it made me think of our conversation in the parking lot of the hospital when Mike was being operated on. I've never repeated any of the things Mrs. Sullivan told me about Mike that day 'cause he'd never get over it; I mean, come on, if it took him almost a month to get over a drunken memory of him telling me he loved me, how about all the personal stuff about him I heard that day from his mom?
We drove to my place and unloaded the car and then drove the car back to his mother's office. Mike went in to give her the keys and a kiss goodbye.
Now we're looking at a long walk back to my place. Outside his mother's office, Mike bumps fist with me looking into my eyes and making me feel special somehow; he says, "Come on, let's jog, Richie," and off we go, me trying to keep up with Mike. His stab wound has healed and he's building up his strength again; jogging is fun for Mike. We jog the whole way and even though it's a very cold day we're sweaty and winded when we get back. Mike said the run felt great... maybe I wouldn't use that exact word to describe it 'cause I'm gasping for air, but looking up, I smile my best smile at him, almost like I agree. Later on Mike made us dinner; Philly cheese steaks on sub rolls with fried onions and ketchup. We use American cheese on our cheese steaks; not Cheez Whiz like we see being used on television. We did our homework then, and then watch a basketball game... then it's time to get ready for bed. I've been a bit skittish all afternoon thinking about what we'd do at bedtime; I guess I've been nervous not knowing what to anticipate. Mike must have sensed my mood and tries to clear the air by quietly announcing, "Richie, listen to what I have to say." I'd been getting up to brush my teeth, but sit back down and look at Mike. He seems to be searching for the right words, "Ah, Richie. Um, you and me are the best buddies ever and I love you as much as I love my own brother, Danny. We're brothers too, you and me, but, ya know, it's like this: we can't do anymore of the sexy stuff 'cause we're getting too old for that. Um, it was fun, I'm not pretending it wasn't, but I like to be honest with myself." I think, "Sure you do, Mike," "and being honest I got to say that it's time to move on from that kid stuff. My question to you is, can you do that? Can you move on with me living here, can ya leave the gay stuff behind?" How I kept the tears from flowing I have no idea, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat at first, but I managed to mumble, "Sure, Mike, no problem." He opens his eyes wide, like he doubted me, and asks, "Really?" I look away, and say, "You know I'll follow your lead, but that don't mean I don't feel the same way about you I've always felt, 'cause I do, but I'll do what you say, Mike." I choke-up a little then, but pretended I had something in my throat and coughed a couple of times. He's the one who looks away this time, barely nodding his head. After pausing two seconds to see if there's more, I get up and go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. My mind's jumping all over the place, but I did mean what I'd said to Mike. I also thought that this isn't perhaps the best moment, however, to ask him to suck my cock. I'm pretty sure most sane persons would agree with me there. Oh well, whatever he can give me will be enough for me. I hope.
After Mike's done brushing his teeth we both insist the other guy have a turn at the bed first, and I finally give in and agree to use it tonight. We're both standing in the bedroom awkwardly, I finally say, "Well, good night, Mike." He goes, "Oh hell, we can have a little hug to celebrate our new beginning. Right?" I take the three steps to Mike and he lightly wraps his arms around me; the feel of his body and the familiar Mike smell brings out the tears. I shut my eyes real tight wrapping my arms around Mike's neck. Warm, fat, tears roll down my cheeks as he hugs me tighter and tighter until I begin shaking involuntarily making him hug me even tighter, going, "Shhhh, Richie, it's alright." Pushing my face tight against the side of his face, I say, "Thanks for coming back," and I feel him nod his head up and down once; our hugging has me bending back and I stumble two steps causing Mike to adjust his hold on me and he loses his balance and we hit the bed in a sitting position, still embracing. I end up with a knee on either side of Mike who's in a normal sitting position, me sitting on his lap with a knee on either side of his ass. We're wearing boxer shorts for sleeping and I can feel Mike's long, hard boner against my bum. He says, "Ohh, fuck, no!" as he humps into my bum a few times; the wetness of his precum soaks through both our boxer shorts. Our faces come together and we move our heads back and forth until our faces are wet with spit and my tears; then our lips meet and we start kissing. I'm getting aroused going, "Mmmm, ah, mmm," my dick gets bone-hard in ten seconds as Mike continues humping me through our boxer shorts. A French kiss starts and we moan simultaneously, then Mike sucks on my tongue and I'm almost peeing precum. He gets frantic and uses both hands to rip open my boxers exposing my ass, and with his cock sticking through the fly of his boxers he pressed the wet, hard head of it against my hole. We both blow long hissing sounds into each others mouth as Mike lays back on the bed dragging me down with him. He thrusts his cock against my anus harder, forcing the head inside me. It hurt like hell but I'm in a sexual frenzy pushing my hips down on that wood rod till black dots of pain strobe light behind my eyes. Mike pulls out and drives it
right back in me all the way up till his nuts hit the back of my leg; I squeak out, "Yes! Yes!" We're both breathing hard facing each other as he withdraws his boner and smoothly thrusts it way back up inside me. My face is against his when he grunts and begins rabbit fucking me in a frenzy of his own now, his hips moving quickly up and back, up and back, up and back. His boner going in and out of my ass rubbing my prostate gland with every trip and the continuously stimulation is deliriously pleasurable; I'm squirming on top of Mike, the sweat of our faces mixing together while Mike licks my face and kisses my lips. My arms around his neck hold me in place as he plows my ass; nothing comes close to the sexual ecstasy Mike brings on me... then, with a silent scream I sprayed cum all over both of us, and again, and again. The tightness of my contracting sphincter ring while I'm shooting cum pushes Mike over the edge and cum floods my insides, and overflows squeezing out around his fat cock and drooling down my thighs onto Mike's legs. We're both squealing now, and humping against each other until we begin to run out of steam and slow down to finally come to a complete halt. From the beginning of the hug, through the fuck, till we've come to this complete stop... it all took less than four minutes. Our chests are heaving and our hearts pounding as we lay there, me on top of Mike; our faces wet with sweat, tears, spit and mucus; there's cum all over our stomachs, chest, ass, crotch and some of it's still running off my leg onto Mike's. He's softly repeating, "Fuck... fuck.... fuck...." I listen to his mantra loving the fact our mostly naked bodies are touching like this. I'm not at all sure how this even came to be, but I'm ecstatic that it did; talk about reversal of fortunes... from contemplating abstinence, to the hottest sex we've ever had in a thirty second turn-around period. It was awesome, but also a little bit scary because of the intensity and the desperation of it, and the almost out of control roughness; not to mention the unexpectedness.
It isn't long before Mike stops repeating his mantra and slowly pulls his cock out of me, then gently rolls me off of him. We're sticky and messy as Mike rustles around on the bed getting his arm under my neck to pull my head over to lay against his chest. He gives the side of my head a long loving kiss. He seems calm now, as if a loads been lifted from his shoulders, or maybe he's relieved that a decision's been resolved, or maybe it's something else entirely; ya never know with Mike. He starts talking quietly as he holds me against his chest and I love the sound of his youthful voice. He says he wants to tell me about his father, and in a monotone voice, he does. He tells me how his dad got his mom pregnant when they were both seventeen years old; that it was love that brought them together, not some 'wham bam, thank you ma'am' teen sex-capade. They decide to get married and keep the baby and after overcoming a number of obstacles that's what they did. The baby's Danny, of course; Mike's older brother. Mike's dad manages to finish high school while working at the same time, and his mom's a stay-at-home mom until Danny's two years old, then she gets a job too. Danny's taken care of by the grandmother and so everything's working out just fine until a friend of Mike's dad introduces him to cocaine and things began to spiral out of control. Mike's conceived during this time and, in an effort to support the family and get clean from cocaine, his dad joins the Army. It went well for a few months, but he went back to the coke, it was a constant inter struggle between responsible behavior and cocaine, on again, off again. Mike's mom confided in Mike that his dad was a loving, hard working man, who at age twenty-two, was actually more boy than a man, but he wanted to be a man for his family. Sadly, that's how old he still is because he was killed in the Gulf war. His mother gave birth to Mike two days later. As Mike finishes the tale of his father's short life tears drip off Mike's chin to land on my forehead. I tell him how sad it is that he never got to meet his dad and how sorry I am about the struggles his family had to deal with. He's quiet for a minute, composing himself while I'm wondering why he's telling me all this.
Mike's wiping his tears with the back of his wrist, taking another minute to compose himself further, and then he says, "Thanks for caring, Richie, but there's a specific reason I'm sharing this personal part of my life with you; I'm telling you all this to explain something about myself. My dad had a problem, it's called, 'addictive personality disorder', or something like that. He's easily addicted to stuff like cigarettes and drugs and, in his case, cocaine. "I'm afraid it's genetic... that addictive personality thing is my problem too. Do you understand, Richie?" I ask, "You mean you're addicted to alcohol, and that's why you got so drunk at the dance?" Mike snorts out, "Don't be stupid, Richie! You've known me almost nine months and that's the first time I've gotten really drunk, which is hardly addictive behavior. Don't you get it?" I lift my head, and say, "No, I'm sorry Mike, please tell me." He got a rye smile on his face, maybe an uneasy one like he's a little embarrassed; then to stall perhaps, he rubs my buzz cut head, then a deep breath, and he quietly says, "I'm addicted to you. I've tried for almost a month to will you out of my mind; to clear my head of you and me together, you know, like we've been for so many months. I was positive I could override my addictive need to have sex with you. I was positive I could, but then seeing you at school weakened my resolve and last week at your locker I purposely grabbed hold of you to test my reaction, and I felt okay; I felt like I grabbed a friend, not like I grabbed a sex object... or lover. I felt my reaction was that of a regular straight kid's and so I was sure I could move back in and we'd be best buddies. You know, buddies who wouldn't do gay stuff with each other and it should have worked 'cause I'm not queer, but it didn't... my addictive disorder ruined everything."
His hand rests on the back of my neck as my head once again is laying on his chest. I can feel and almost hear Mike's heartbeat and it seems to be beating regularly, where as mine is beating too fast 'cause I don't know where this is leading. It's an elaborate rationalization for doing gay sex with me and I can't help but wonder why he doesn't accept a more reasonable explanation for wanted to have sex with me. But, as usual, I'm not going to get into a discussion about it because it's obvious Mike actually believes what he's saying and is in pain about it. I say, "Mike, that's alright, we don't need to do anything you feel uncomfortable about; just being with you is enough." Mike groans with frustration, "You are not this stupid, Richie. How can I make it any clearer; I need... need, with a capital 'N', you! I'm addicted to you, and being close makes me need to join with you sexually. Christ, when I just think about you, I want to have sex with you; this addiction makes me weak. I only wish it was cocaine I'm addicted to because this homosexual behavior is wrong." What can I say? Mike's sounding pissed-off again. Why can't he see the obvious? There's one thing he said that I can't let go without contradicting him though, "Mike," I quietly say, "Homosexual behavior is no more 'wrong' than heterosexual behavior; neither of them is wrong. It's nature, pure and simple. Anyway, you've called me gay; am I wrong? Is there something bad about me?" We're both quiet as Mike squeezes the back of my neck, then my shoulder and finally says, "No, there's nothing bad about you, Richie. Not you; you're the purest thing in my life and I don't know how to reconcile that with my feelings about quee... er, gays. You're gay, I know that, but you're... I don't know, you're special. You're a special gay boy. Oh fuck, I know I'm not making any sense." See, he loves me; I knew he did anyway. I go, "I'll support any decision you make, Mike." He asks, "Won't you miss having sex with me if I can break my addiction?" He sounds disappointed, so I quickly say, "Are you kidding me? You know how much I love having sex with you; you see my reaction to your touch, I'm excited just seeing you. I know you don't like to hear it, but I love you; I'll never have another love the rest of my life like I have for you." He sounds emotional again when he says, "Thanks. Let's get some sleep, and we'll think about all this and have a long talk after school tomorrow. Okay?" I say, "Sure, Mike," and nothing else, as I stay right here in bed with Mike, praying he doesn't move to the sleeping bag. He continues to hug me against him so I guess we're together for the night, this night anyway. We slowly reconfigure under a sheet laying lengthways and before falling asleep I wonder if I should suggest to Mike that many people would call his so called addiction: being in love.
Next morning we did everything routinely, and then after school we talk about him and me for two hours, smoking cigarettes and drinking YooHoo. In the end it's decided, for the time being anyway, that we're still quite young with a lot to learn and, since we're not hurting anyone or breaking any laws such as cocaine usage, we'll basically go back to our behavior pattern pre-separation and see what happens. Mike says he'll probably be better able to control his addictive behavior when he's older, which is maybe true but I had to bite my tongue so not to mention how odd it is he doesn't exhibit this addictive behavior thingie in any other way; just with me. Mike being Mike he needs to take ownership of the 'new' approach to us and sex, which isn't new at all but rather exactly how we approached it before he got drunk at the dance and separated from me for almost a month. Even though we're going back to the status quo, Mike explains it to me, as if I'm a slow learner, and after thirty seconds a grin brakes out on my face which stops Mike in his tracks. In the old days he'd check to see if I'm dissing him, but now he points an index finger at me, and says, "You think everything's a joke, Richie." I go, "Do not!" and he goes, "Oh, to hell with it. We'll mess around together until we outgrow it; that's the bottom line. You good with that, Richie?" I get serious, reach over and squeeze his hand, and to my great surprise he holds my hand for a few seconds, with my dick moving in my jeans, I say, "Sure, you bet Mike. I totally agree we should continue until we outgrow it." I love the feel of his hand in mine, and I don't want to make a joke out of it, but I'm thinking, "We'll have sex together until we outgrow it or until we die in each others arms at age one hundred, whichever comes first." Okay! Mike's come up with a hell of a plan! In all seriousness, knowing Mike Sullivan the way I do, this couldn't have turned out any better from my perspective, or from his.
We're back to doing sex everyday and no more discussions about it. Mike's an awesome lover and sometimes I feel I'm floating in a sea of pleasure. He seems to devour me at times making me feel as if I'm the most desirable boy on earth, and maybe to Mike I am. I know he is to me; I can't get enough of him. I'd like to crawl inside him and share his heartbeat and then share his orgasm. We exchange so much saliva, and I drink so much of his semen and he shoots so much of it up my ass I feel I'm part of him. He never says it, but I've never felt more loved. Sometimes we stay embraced for half an hour after we've both had our orgasms and it's the most special time! It's not like, 'thanks for the orgasm, see ya next time; it's like, stay with me, stay in my arms so I can feel you, and smell you, and taste you,... it's exactly like love. In that way we have a great couple of months and soon we're looking forward to spring break which mean summer can't be very far off. Everything is really going my way again, although I still haven't mentioned the blow job idea to Mike, but I intend to at some point. No sense in screwing up this great streak Mike and I have been in ever since the break-up. We've had some nice weather days lately too, and that's allowed us to go flying around on Mike's motorbike which we love to do. Life is a treasure of riches for me now
Nothing's perfect though. I see Tom Brown as little as possible, but he does live a few doors down from me and we do go to the same small high school, so I see him. If I see him when he's with someone else he ignores me or maybe, trying to be cool, he'll pretends to shoot me with his index finger. When we run into each other alone he always gets in my space and sometimes gooses me, or holds onto my junk asking when I want the second half of my spanking. He's very dominant and often reminds me, "Ya know, Richie, you haven't fulfilled your part of our agreement. I still have the right to discuss our behavior that famous morning with your main man, Mike. Ya want me to do that and forget the other half of the spanking you owe me?" I'm quick to say, "Ah, don't do that, please. I'll come through for you, Tom. I promise." Yesterday when I ran into him, he added something new, "Ya know, Mealey, there's something called 'interest' and your unfulfilled part of the bargain has accrued some interest. After I spank your bare ass red, I'm gonna need to put my fat cock up there and don't waste your breath trying to tell me you've never been fucked!" I got angry at that and my face got red, I said, "You're a prick, Tom. Why do you treat me this way?" He got my balls in a tight fist this time, and says, "Don't try coming off tough with me, you can't pull it off. Remember how you got hard when I massaged you? Do ya? What do ya think Mike might say about that? Huh?" I backed off noticeably, and he says, "That's better. Now, I'll do everything I did for you the first time, including sucking you off, which you loved! The question is, will you cooperate with your spanking and with me fucking your pussy after the spanking? He's massaging my dick as he talks, I held loosely onto his biceps, our faces close together, our breath in each others face. He's good looking, strong and confident, and my dick has a mind of it's own so it's getting stiff, as I mumbled weakly, "Okay, I promise, Tom." He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The hold on my balls kept me from moving away, but I pulled my head back. Tom said, "Lean forward and kiss me back," putting extra pressure on my balls; I gasped, then lean in and kiss him. Sexy lips, I gotta admit. Naturally his tongue slips into my mouth and we got into a sexy French kiss while my cock turned itself into a boner. With his lips against mine, Tom says, "I feel your boner and you're kiss is hot so you better watch out you don't fall for me. After I fuck you, maybe you will. I still got that crush on you." He let go of my balls then and walked away. My pants stuck out at the lap. Maybe Mike's not the only one with an addictive disorder. Then I hated on myself, and on Tom Brown. It put me in a funk all of yesterday afternoon, and I'm still in it today. He's so unfair, but why do I get aroused? I guess I have a submissive personality which is a perfect situation for a dominant one, like Tom's; or Mike's for that matter. Nah, there's no way Tom and Mike belong in the same thought. Fuck it! I can't wait for Tom to move to wherever it is they're going to move to!
One day in the middle of April, after school, Mike calls for me to join him in the bedroom; no, not for that. He's on our computer, "Hey, Richie, guess who just emailed me?" I go, "Jeez Mike, I don't know. Was it Tonya inviting you to another dance?" Mike deadpans, "You got a great career ahead of you as a stand-up comedian. No, it's from Ronny Dwyer, that cute little fucker in the hospital with me. He wants to get together over Spring break. What do ya think, how 'bout a road trip to the midwest?" For my money, I want Mike all to myself, but I've never been on a road trip, as Mike put it, and I like doing what Mike wants, so I say, "If you're going, I'm going!" He gets up and gets me in a headlock, saying, "I love ya, bro!" and things developed from there.
to be continued....
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com