Jack

by Cal Ritchie

14 Sep 2006 1829 readers Score 9.0 (16 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


I felt my cock grow again as I thought about Matt.

He'd be 21 by now. When was the last time I'd seen him? Must be a coupla years at least, and it was then that I'd found out so much more about him....

I smiled to myself at the memory, and turned once more to look back into the room, watching Adam's arched back as he fed his cock up to the bush in Scott's loving mouth, jerking and thrusting against the tight lips that held him.

And I thought of Matt.

It had been that summer. I'd been back to visit him and his guardian - Alice - but he'd been away in his last few semesters at college. He'd been orphaned early and his mum's friend, Alice, had raised him. I'd helped out whenever I could, as an old friend of his father's, and had grown close to them both.

That day I'd turned up Alice was intent on giving her ward's room a good clean-out, but as she'd always had enormous respect for Matt's privacy, she'd promised him she wouldn't go in there. So she asked me to take care of it, and to give the room a 'dust around' since Matt trusted me as much as anyone else in the whole world. And so it was that I was allowed to enter his private domain, taking with me a vacuum cleaner and some dust bags.

It was the usual student room, though there were more pictures of Jeff Stryker on the walls than Playboy pin-ups, plus a picture of one particular body-builder who I sure wouldn't have pushed out of my bed.

I vacuumed for a while, taking care to shift the cupboards as I cleaned, but it was when I came to clean under the bed that I found the real treasure - there was something pushed into a bag way under the bed and against the wall.

I pulled the bed out and picked up the bag.

It was when I saw the stash of gay magazines, and the shiny, life-like rubber dildo that I finally came to understand Matt; feeling, right there and then, almost the same sort of thrill as when I'd bought my first gay magazines. There's no feeling quite like it and that feeling can never be re-captured in quite the same way. It was during that afternoon in his room that I determined to renew my acquaintance with him.

I sat on the bed, flicking through the stroke pics, amused at the familiar feel of pages glued together with cum. Then I rested the pliable dildo against my lips, and my cock became harder just knowing where this fake prick had been.

I held it to my nose.

Matt had thoroughly cleaned it, but as I closed my eyes I could imagine him sliding it - well greased - up into himself, and feeling the bulging cock-head moving in and dragging the walls of his ass with it.

It was like briefly returning to my own childhood, though I'd been well-experienced with guys by the time I was his age. Somehow my mind retained this image of Matt with the dildo up inside him; if he'd been like me, he'd have slid it in, then knelt back on the floor with its balls hard against his heels, then leaned back as far as he could to keep it tightly there while he used both hands to stroke and jerk, or to hold a mag while he jerked.

It was a very intense experience, and it sure made the spunk fly a whole lot further.

And now here I was in his bedroom, his holy-of-holies, imagining him muscular, young and stripped off, and whacking off over the pictures of these dudes, with the fake cock filling him. I reached over and pulled open the drawer that was set into the side of the bed.

Sure enough - a box of tissues and a tube of lube.

I took them out, then put the magazine down and crept over to the door, locked it and then, quietly, as if I was a teenager again, I unzipped my slacks and slipped out my very hard, very leaky cock, while I searched for an image in one of the magazines, just like he would have done.

I found one.

It was a 50s beefcake picture of two guys on some rocks, wrestling, well-oiled, and - though in black and white and of the period - they were not wearing any posing pouches. Both had raging hard-ons.

The image made me rock-hard, and I started to beat my meat.

I hadn't had solo sex for a long time - there'd always been a stud on hand to hold it or suck it (or take it up the ass) - so this was a welcome return to an experience I hadn't had since I was - hey - 14?

And I'd forgotten how much pleasure there was in simply self-pleasuring; to be able to totally control the stroke and speed, and the more I fondled my balls and stroked my nipples, the hotter I became. It felt good, and it was sad that I'd forgotten just how good.

I was really keyed up now; just being in Matt's room with the door locked, and Alice downstairs - who might very well come up at any moment - added an extra nerve-jangling edge; like having a guy's zipper open in the bushes, or at the movies. You just never knew when you were going to be discovered, and a climax started to build within me. I speeded up, until my fist became a blur on the shaft, and my jaw sagged open as a sort of reflex, just the way it used to...and then my spunk began to spurt.

I shot into my hand and tried to contain the swirling mass, while I grabbed at some tissues to catch it. My shaft was pumping hard and jerking wildly - adding to the nostalgic pleasure - and I checked that I hadn't sprayed any of it onto the sheets, as my cock pulsed out of control. I scooped more tissues out of the box and soaked up the jizz as best I could.

That male sweat smell, mingled with cum, filled the room and my nostrils. It was the same scent I got from sucking a cock though a glory hole. An intensely 'private' smell, though usually shared with two or more people.

I cleaned myself up, straightened my clothes then put the magazines and dildo back in the bag as and where I'd found them, and went downstairs with the dust bags and vacuum, as though nothing had happened.

'You must have worked quite hard up there, Jack,' said Alice as she greeted me. 'You're a little flushed. You'd better sit down and have a coffee. Can't have you young guys straining yourselves too much!'

Back on the veranda in the here and now, as the sounds of sighing and grunting and gasping cut into my thoughts, I realised that my cock was fully hard again. Thoughts of Matt had raised the towel like a tent-pole, and filled me with an almost animal craving and a renewed lust for sex. I crushed out my last cigarette on the balcony rail, turned and slipped off the towel as I headed for the bed.

Adam was squatting on Scott, whose cock was way up inside him, and he half-turned to me with a smile.

'Jack!' he cried, 'welcome back. We thought you'd become bored with your birthday party!'

I said nothing but reached over and squeezed some lube onto my hand. Then, holding my throbbing shaft in one hand I coated it with the other. Then I knelt on the bed and shoved forward, up behind Adam. He'd been watching me all the while, then as he realised my intention, his eyes widened.

'No, Jack,' his voice was quiet, but had mild panic in it. 'Not two...!'

'C'mon, baby,' I cooed, shoving my cock against his ring and against Scott's occupying hard-on. 'You can take it. Just relax.'

He tried to squirm off Scott's cock, but I held him tight.

'Relax, Adam,' Scott said quietly, looking hard at me. 'Jack, for fuck's sake be careful with that battering ram of yours.'

I pushed in further, shoving Adam gently and bending him further over Scott as I reached under him and ran my fingers round the distended sphincter ring, filled already with my lover's prick.

I slid in slowly, as the boy stiffened and then gave out a low, gasping, wretched moan, which rose sharply as my length drove painfully into him and on into his protesting body. I could feel Scott's prick alongside me, as we both filled the boy and explored the inner regions of his body. Adam began to thrash wildly; thighs spread almost painfully wide, and arms flailing helplessly back, impaled on both of us, and unable to reach his second tormentor.

'Aaaagghhhh! JACK!' he shrieked. 'You BASTARD! YOU'RE SPLITTING ME!'

'No I'm not you little cunt - relax!' I hissed as I pushed the rest of me into him, right up to my bush.

Adam was slavering now - pain had given way to a shivering shuddering, ecstatic disbelief that he had us both in his ass and, as I reached round his waist to masturbate him, he looked down, and I followed his gaze. He had the most enormous erection, that leaked a virtually continuous stream of drool onto Scott's belly.

'Jack,' he moaned, 'you're too big! You'll ruin my ass!! AAAGGGHHHH!'

'Calm down, Adam,' I whispered in his ear. 'Don't tell me that those seven guys you balled didn't do some double-entry book-keeping at some stage. C'mon!'

I slid steadily in and out as the boy's cries rose again while Scott took his lead from me and we both moved together, so that Adam has us both pumping him in perfect unison. Slowly we increased the pace and as it rose, he flopped back against my chest, while his own cock now sent wide splashes of pre-cum flying onto Scott's chest and face. The boy's moans had now become a long wail as he flopped on us, this way and that, his cock as hard as a steel bar, but his body limp and shining with sweat, as Scott and I filled his bowels.

'Aaahhhhh!...I...I...I'm...gonna...c...c..cum, J-Jack!' he cried weakly. So I beat his meat harder, realising that I was now on the point of cumming, not least because of the delicious feel of Scott's cock sliding against mine. Body scents and smells rose from us as Adam perspired freely. Scott gripped his waist tightly, fingers digging into the boy's flesh as he started to jerk beneath Adam and me, and I could feel his prick pumping and jerking against mine as I realised we were all in the same state.

'Let it rip, Adam,' I cried hoarsely, slamming into him, feeling Scott's hard-muscled cock spreading and swelling, then....

Suddenly my body began to shake uncontrollably and I quivered against Adam's back as Scott's cock blew its load, making my cock- head burn with the heat of our twin climaxes as they flooded the boy's ass. At that point, Adam gave out an agonized scream as the twin cargoes of cum hit his insides, triggering his own orgasm which erupted over Scott and the pillow behind him.

His cum spat bouts of milky love-juice, brutally expelling its load as he jerked and twitched, sandwiched between the two of us, our climaxes almost ripping him apart, before reaching its peak, and slowly ebbing again.

I slumped forward on Adam's soaking back, feeling him shake, while he continued to moan, but now a gentler, weaker and wearier sound.

My thoughts were not of now.

My thoughts were of Matt. I wanted to see him again.

by Cal Ritchie

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