NOTICE : All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone is strictly coincidental, all rights are protected and the story cannot be reproduced without permission.
Marine ROTC Cadet Kevin Tyler
Part 2
I moved up onto the couch from the floor and fastened my lips on his right pec nursing on his sensitive coned nipple, suckling the erect teat and lashing it with my slurping tongue. He thrust his chest up to my slavering lips and insistent tongue, and I reached across to the free titty to tweak it and scratch my fingernail over the turgid tip of the erectile tissue. He groaned from the sweet sensation of his tits being suckled and tweaked…."uuuuuuggggggghhhh…fuck….. yeeaaaaahhh, oh fuuucck…my tizzzzz….aaaaaahhhhhhhh shiiiittt….oooooooohhhhhh" he slurred. I watched as perspiration dripped from his exposed armpits down the sides of his ribcage. Still, he smelled more of his Old Spice deodorant and Irish Spring soap, than anything else…he was a clean, sweet morsel with a tight body that I was about to devour. With my free hand I began a slow and deliberate search between his thick thighs, and under his sweaty, heavy balls. I rooted around under the hairy hanging nut sack draped down from his crotch and resting on the sofa, and finally reached his nether portal through the wedge of coarse, light brown hair that overflowed and clogged his ass crack. Jesus, I love a hairy asshole. Yeah, sure you gotta keep 'em clean, but the testosterone that oozes from the sight of a hairy ass, and the joy of searching through it to a boy's most protected gate…fuck, I couldn't wait to get my finger lodged up this butt.
My little Marine ROTC punk had a trench full of light brown hair that got dark at the point of his cunt lips, hiding and protecting his shit hole from the prying eyes and unwanted insertions of foreign objects. Even his doctor had to part the hair to find his pucker for the Mr. ROTC's routine medical exams…which made his toes curl tight and his dick burp pre-scum. I learned later that the campus doctor seemed to enjoy making his prick go hard during these exams and had once even made him ejaculate from the incredible sensation, much to his embarrassment. He now tried to escape my insistent advances, lifting his ass off the sofa, then grinding it back down when my ragged nail hit pay-dirt and scraped across the tightly clenched knot of his clenching pucker. Once again, he squeezed the hairy cheeks of his strong ass muscles, working hard to snap my finger, or at least block the irritating probe that made his tits get even more stiff. I tickled and scratched at the taut little nether lips, pink and clean behind his gripping cheeks, while my tongue lashed his tits and my teeth nibbled on the rigid little cones.
Every boy has a hidden slut beneath his exterior, whatever it may be. Often the most straight and buttoned down boys are secretly the most filled with sexual need and lust. Get them in the right situation, and they will surrender to their deep-seated horny desires, to get the nut they want. The combination of my nipple work, and the persistent fingering made me successful in getting my single minded digit into the entrance of his tight anus. I made sure not to hurt him, as my goal was his surrender. I wanted his domination, his anal finger rape, to be the result of his loss of control and surrender to the irresistible intrusion of my skillful fuck finger into his horny fundament. His resistance to having his last portal of manhood broached was strong, but my determination to make him succumb to the delicious agony of a prostate rub was greater. I knew I had a trick though that might get me to the goal. While still sucking on his rosy titties, all hard and rubbery from my lashing tongue, I used my free hand to probe his deep navel. Christ, I love playing with boys’ navels. It’s one of those places like tender feet, exposed palms, inside ears, on an Adam’s apple, or an anus that boys can’t control and don’t expect anyone to touch. By drilling my index finger into the well of his deep navel, the strong ab muscles went rigid, and he broke out into peals of uncontrolled laughter: “aaaaaaahahahahahahhhhhhhaaaaaaa…!” As he shrieked, his ass muscles slackened and I patiently wormed a well-greased index finger through his slightly sweating ass cheeks and the suddenly loose and pouching anus. The tender pulsing ass-lips seemed to invite the breach, and soon my callused, blunt finger was lightly probing his prostate like a doctor making an examination. As I corkscrewed my one index finger into his navel, using my fingernail to scratch and probe the sensitive lining, I gently corkscrewed and drilled the other carefully and slowly into the hot furnace of his asshole. Fuck, I had him skewered on both sides of that little tight body…his toes curled and his hands scrabbling as he gasped for breath from laughing and grunting from the sweet ache that now filled his virgin pucker. The laughter and grunting turned into a whine from the massage of his fuck nut.
I took whatever he would give each time I suckled his tit, gave it a little nip, or tickle his navel, causing him to lose a bit more of the muscular control of his sphincter. My finger was uncomfortable for him, but it was not painful since I was careful and let his anal tract grow accustomed to my wriggling inspection. Yeah, I had him squirming on my fuck finger in no time, rotating his hips, while I continued to nurse his whorish titty. His throbbing schlong drooled helplessly, pulsing without relief and burping more and more sap; his hands reaching helplessly behind him and his toes clenched tight in a futile effort to squeeze my finger from his fuck hole. When I finally decided to focus on his hard little fuck nut, deep up his trench, Kevin’s legs stretched out as much as his restraints allowed, in shock from the sensations. His head snapped back and forth…his groans getting louder: “Aaaaawwwwwww nnnnnnnooooooo, oh no… sttttopppp, ooohhh …..aaaaaaaeeeeeeeiiiiiii!”
I decided to find out if I had what I was looking for in this college jarhead. So, I just rubbed and massaged his firm prostate with my insistent index finger, while I moved my lips up to his right ear in order to lave it with my tongue. Ears, one of those places most straight guys can’t stand having probed by tickling fingers or slick tongues. I thrust my licker into Kevin’s sweet little ear, and gave it the kind of treatment some of his girlfriends had given him to get him hot and bothered. His head twisted one way then the other hoping to avoid my determined attack, but he could not protect his sensitive ear shell from my worming tongue, and combined with another distraction focused on his far tit, I had the big-dicked meathead panting and bobbing with lust. I reached under his back with my free hand to gain access to and roll his far tit. The rubbery nubbin poked up like the cheap whore it was, reaching out to my scratching fingernail, and rough finger pads, as they rolled and scrubbed its firm, sensitive, little tip. All this was an effort to jerk him off without touching his dick. It worked! While he wriggled to avoid my constant stimulation of his aching prostate and bucked his ass up and down trying to both escape and exquisitely fuck my rooting digit, his thick curved cock went rigid up against his stomach. The fat knob expanded obscenely, its surface going as smooth as glass as it bloated--the drooling piss lips opening wide in the deep piss-well. Kevin had become his fat knobbed prick, and in his bonerdom, he was about to spit wads and wads of fuck snot, thick tangy sperm, from his overwrought balls.
"AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!...OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH" he wailed as his hips plunged up and down, and sideways, still vainly trying to get free from my unerring finger and yet stimulate his newly discovered and fuck hungry sweet spot. In an instant his body went rigid, bowing up from the sofa and screwing round on my wriggling finger. His firm chest thrust up, the rubbery teats like little diamond chips protruding from his arced pectorals. His thick, hairy thighs went rigid. The intense aching pressure, deep up his ass was too much. He couldn't get away. He'd never been so helpless; my little Marine ROTC cadet was way out of control like hard dicked spunk filled boys can get. His nip thrust out to my fingertips as I scraped my nail across the far one, and as I pinched and pulled it gently. In the meantime, my tongue was wriggling deep in his ear, searching out the sensitive interior shell, and making him buck from the delicious sensation. He couldn't take this stimulation anymore. The days of pent up gism, the hard muscled and horny, deprived jock punk body, the drooling, pulsing prick, all merged to bring him to the edge of a desperately needed teenage cum. I focused my eyes on the obscenely expanding knob of his prick, bulging to its maximum. Suddenly he let loose: "AAAAEEEEEIIIIII...AAAGGGGHHH!" The hapless little fuck head's meat swelled into a rigid cudgel, vibrating like a tuning fork as it began to spit. Streams of sticky gism bolted up from the split piss lips as the shaft lifted from his stomach, shooting up to his pecs and face, and after six powerful bolts, drooling onto his stomach, the couch and me. Jesus, it was a beautiful geyser, the room filled with the starchy, bleach scent of cum. His fat knob was desperate for some soothing contact but was only able to blast the cum without any assistance.
I finally got to see what Audrey felt as Kevin's scum blasted up her hole after a good long fuck! I could envision his strong young hips driving that rigid, fat knobbed prong into her clinging cunt, his hard nipples grazing her own rubbery tits, his ass and heels driving his insatiable prick into the wet, clinging cavern. Jeeezus…this little fire plug was balls full of spunk, so horny and juice filled that his prick couldn’t stop shooting, his oversized and swollen knob itching intensely as it burped the sperm everywhere. His small, perfectly formed little body was straining to free from its bondage, but his glazed and drunken condition just made him squirm and shoot, unable to focus clearly on the massive ejaculation.
After the six long spurts of sticky scum, he drooled the rest, still twisting to avoid the uncomfortably irritating tickle and feeling of being stuffed well up inside his butt. I leaned over him, and using my tongue like a cat, licked him clean of the thick tangy sperm, finally swallowing just the oversensitive head of his prick in my vacuuming mouth. He begged me in slurred words to stop..."toooo sennnsitive" he whimpered, but the continuing rigid expanse of his glans told me he craved his prick tip being laved. So, I kept sucking and licking while pinching his still hard and now painfully sensitive little tit, making them almost burn from my touch in spite of the lubrication I had on my spit wet fingers. Holding the still rigid prong up from his stomach, I let my tongue swirl round and round his over-wrought fuck tip, and in another fifteen minutes of relentless sucking just the bloated prick tip, I could see he had another cum churning in his sweaty balls. It was time to give him more liquor and amyl nitrate to keep him subdued and go on to the next stage of Kevin’s work out.
I have two hooks in the ceiling of the living room of my apartment with a bar that suspends from the roof if I lower it. My friends think that I use it for exercise, chin-ups, and stuff. But in fact, this is where some of my best work on big boys is done…drunk or playing drunk, maybe slightly drugged like Kevin, who get trussed onto my trapeze bar. I loosened Kevin’s feet from the coffee table. Then I lifted and fastened each one to a soft-lined cuff that was attached to the ends of the bar. As I worked, I thought back to a night I'd had with a young business-man I'd picked up at a hotel bar almost a year ago. His driver's license said he was twenty-six, and I learned he was in his first real position of responsibility in the banking business. He and his colleagues had gone out to dinner after a day of conferencing, and he'd gotten drunk as a skunk. Once back at the hotel, he'd stopped into the bar for one more, and I happened to be there looking for someone like him for a night's entertainment. I made sure he was completely smashed before I persuaded him to come back to my apartment to meet my "girlfriend and her sister." The salacious tales I had told him coupled with the alcohol made him throw caution to the wind, and he staggered out with me to my SUV. Needless to say, once I got him back to my apartment, he spent a long night trussed up on my couch, his legs tethered to the harness hanging from the ceiling. As I recall he had a splendid little vibrating prong secured up his asshole and around his waist to keep it in place as I milked him three times that night. He had one of those cocks that was wider at the base, than at the head, but his entire cock curved up and the head was thick and blunt. I used batting gloves with lube on him as my fist rolled up and over his throbbing erection. He howled into a gag I had carefully secured around his head, but that young man performed like a champ, blasting healthy loads of gism from his hairy testicles. I finally used some chloroform to knock him out and return him to the lobby of his hotel slumped into a chair for the staff to find,
As I manacled Kevin's feet into the cuffs, I focused on his beautiful size eleven feet.
Boy’s feet are so different from girls. Girls rely on their small, generally dainty feet, usually narrow to capture attention from straight men. They know that a delicate ankle and a high arched foot with small toes will make some guys spring a boner immediately. But by contrast, boys don't pay much attention to their feet. Oh yeah, there's the old adage that men with big feet have big dicks, but men themselves don't notice the feet of other guys or make much of a fuss over them. You know, the typical, guy's feet can be gross, big old boats that can be sweaty and stink. But if you appreciate male feet, you know they can have a beauty all their own. Boys walking in flip flops, those big, pale vulnerable feet exposed. See the long, thick toes. Watch the way the feet pronate, exposing the meaty, high arches. Then there are those strong ankles, muscled and veined, and narrow heels. These feet that work so hard on the fields and courts, can seem so vulnerable, and are when straight men do not realize that they are also erogenous.
Somehow you can imagine these big strong boys, and their athletic, muscular feet, absolutely at your mercy, helpless before scrabbling fingers and jagged fingernails. Desperate to escape from the wriggling digits that will reduce them to paroxysms of howling laughter, and to lose control of asshole, prick and cum. You'll see guys drying their big feet in the locker-room, and casually rubbing between the thick toes, hardly understanding that they are potentially so sensitive and sexual. In my estimation of course the feet themselves are works of art. Boys with wide balls, narrow heels, high arches and long, thick toes are my favorites. You want veins that show their strength from hours of exertion, muscular insteps and for some, even hair on those big toes. Kevin’s big boy feet were perfect. Years of playing sports and working out had fashioned feet any little jock would be proud to own. His narrow heels and ankles gave way to a wide flare as the foot proceeded towards the toes. His toes were long for a boy his size, and gently curved inward toward his big toe. His index toes were longer than his big toes, and his big toes, index toes and even the next two had little sprouts of hair at the first joint. Some people are lucky not to develop harsh calluses on their feet, and Kevin was one of them. The soles of his feet were smooth and soft, and had the clean scent of his sweat, no unpleasant or raunchy smell. I knew that I would be sucking and tickling these beauts before the night was over, because this is another of the male pressure points, a place where he could not control the sensation and was unaccustomed to anyone touching him there. Many big men surrender when their toes are tickled, suckled, or fondled. I sensed that Kevin was one, and I was not disappointed upon further investigation.
After I had his legs trussed up and back towards his chest, and spread, I adjusted the bolster pillow under his lower back to support him and make sure his furry little ass trench was spread open for my uninterrupted investigation. His position and the firm connection of his feet to the bar kept him from moving from this position. Just to warm him up, I used the fingers of one hand to tickle the pale, soft soles of his feet, and let my other hand scrabble across his firm abs and under his stretched arm pits to distract him for a couple of minutes. He howled in spite of his drugged condition, shrieking at times and begging for me to stop…aaaaahhhhhh…ha ha ha ha…aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…and yet between these yelps were deep groans as his cock burped more and more strings of clear lube. I watched his hands and toes wriggle desperately, frantically trying to escape attentions. I knew that this tickling would make his skin sensitive to the touch, and allow for even more fun in a few minutes.
Next, I wheeled up a short cart made of strong plastic. On the top, I had fastened a wooden shelf that served as a counter top. I had bolted a contraption I’d devised for naughty boys in which a socket that could be screwed open and closed was able to accommodate various dildoes. I slipped in a short, slender one (not more than four inches long and an inch wide), on which I had glued a sleeve of short-haired boar bristles about a quarter-inch in length, that had been treated in oil to keep them pliant and yet soft. At the same time, the treatment caused them to stand up perpendicular from the shaft with the effect of making them irritating. I lubed the bristles again, and then aimed the slender knobby head towards Kevin’s hairy boy pucker. I spread the dark, thick hair of his trench, and once parted, it revealed a sweet, ragged slit with a tight iris in its midst. He in for a surprise. I reached up and began to roll his tits again, making the rubbery cones stiff and sensitive, and eliciting sweet grunts and groans from the sensations. In that moment’s distraction, I gently twisted the head of the dildo into his clenched, hairy port, making sure not to yank or pull his ass hairs. He immediately tried to squeeze his butt cheeks to avoid the invader, but there was no hope. With sure intent, I gradually screwed the wicked bristle vibrator up into his asshole. I left it motionless for five minutes to let him grow accustomed to it after his protests and whining from the intrusion. But once he was skewered, he just grunted and groaned as the prickly bristles made contact with his delicate anal lining with even the slightest movement. He ground his ass back and forth, and of course the knobby tip, densely packed with the bristles, brushed back and forth against his tender prostate. He moaned and pleaded for me to take it out…that I should stop; to fucking take it out…but he was helpless to make me do so. Plus, his fat prong was as firm as ever, the big knob still drooling its clear indication that his id still liked having his body torqued into mandatory ejaculations.
Now we were ready. I picked up a soft bristled electric toothbrush in both hands, and then quickly flicked on the switch of the bristle vibrator in his boy pussy. The soft hum of the buzzing vibrator at its lowest speed emanated from between Kevin’s strong glutes, and as the vibrator buzzed, I turned another switch that made the socket on the platform rotate randomly at a slow, gentle speed, and of course moved the vibrator with it. Kevin’s eyes went wide, his mouth opened, and all he could do was gasp and grunt…”AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH ….OOOOOOOOHHHHHH NNNNOOOO!” he wheezed. His eyes rolled, and his ass muscles clenched helplessly. The wicked sensation deep in his fundament was hard to describe. He squealed from the unaccustomed massage of his healthy young prostate. The tantalizing bristles were flicking the interior lining of his ass and scrabbling across the delicate nut of his prostate along with the knobby head of the dildo. My bubble-butt Marine cadet squeezed his fingers and toes tight, struggling to avoid the awful tickling deep up his ass, but he couldn’t. And at that moment, I went to using the two electric tooth brushes, gently scraping their soft bristles against his abdominal muscles, into his navel, across his pebbled and rubbery tits, even against his Adam’s apple, under his nose, into his ears, across his palms and of course, up and down those pale, muscular feet. He howled now as he groaned and grunted from the incredible sensations covering his taut little body. I spent twenty minutes working him up and down, and never letting him get close to the ejaculation that was bubbling in his balls. Instead, his prick was basting in a pool of pre-jizz, making the rosy glans sticky and itchy, occasionally expanding from the horrible sensations up his asshole, but not enough to push him over the edge.
Finally, I pulled out another wonderful device, a platform not more that three feet long, and six inches wide, with two legs that allowed it to be suspended over the crotch of a lust bound male. On the small platform was a scooped stainless-steel trough not more than three inches wide and beveled. The trough was mounted up at an angle to allow an erect prick to rest in its curved surface, and hold the cock up from the stomach of some well tethered and hapless captive. The fat glans penis was above the end of the trough, so that the whole sensitive prick knob, with its wide flange and circumcision scar was fully exposed. Putting down the regular toothbrush, I slipped on three finger-massagers advertised often on television. The only difference is that mine have tips lined with the same fine boar bristles that were currently churning ruthlessly in Kevin’s virgin ass. I switched on the finger massagers, and went to work on Kev’s sticky knob. Jesus, did that boy howl.
“AAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE …NNNNOOOOO, NOT MY PRICK…AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE….TOOOOO SENSITIVE! …AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH… SSSTTTTOOOOPPP …NNOOO!!" But with the toothbrush in my other hand slipping up and down those muscular insteps, and the vibrator working its magic on his fuck nut…Kevin was lost. In fifteen seconds, he shot stream after stream of boy milk out of his throbbing prick lips…and my bristled fingers just kept screwing round and round his traumatized prick cap, making him strain futilely to close his knees and protect his cock…ah, what a sight! Fortunately, I had captured the whole scene with a video camera set up at a perfect angle to get the scene.
Next page