My summer of sex with Cowboy

Chapter 10

As Bruce gets dressed in stylish tan cargo shorts and a lightweight, long-sleeve white shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, the top three buttons left unbuttoned, he says, "Do that attention-standing thing." I stand at attention, and he goes, "You've been fairly cooperative so far, but now we'll be interacting with the kingpin, Richard, so fairly cooperative won't hack it with him You need to be totally cooperative from now on, and, definitely do not speak unless you're asked a question. Also, at the buffet dinner, I've volunteered you to stand in the buffet line fixing plates of food for each of us."

He looks at his cell phone and says, "Um, and, oh yeah, if Richard asks you what you think of my initial mentoring, tell him I was very hard on you but fair. Also, you're excited because you're sure I can mentor you to be a better person." 

I nod, which one doesn't do when at attention, but Bruce doesn't know. He says, "If he asks why it is you feel I was too hard on you, tell him I took your cigarettes and won't let you smoke at all, not even when you're on your own, and then say, um, well, complain that my discipline-spankings seemed excessive. Most of all, lie if he asks have I prompted you in any way about your response to his questions. Got it?"

"Yes, Bruce." He tells me to repeat everything, and when I do that, he says, "Repeat all of it again."

Satisfied I know my place, Bruce seems cocky now. It's obvious he was more confident telling me all this stuff, and why wouldn't he be? I mean, I'm not giving him a hard time, and he's keeping me in line. Obviously, I'm helping him along because I'm curious about where this is leading, and I want Richard to lay another fuck on my ass.  Bruce has a growing cockiness and confidence, but I can tell he's nervous too, and I'm guessing that's because we're seeing Richard, and you never know what he might do. 

Checking his phone one last time to be sure he's covered all the points from his notes, Bruce says, "Okay, I'm going to be using the tight hold on the back of your neck because, If I don't, Richard will give me demerits."

I nod again, and he says, "One more thing, be humble as if you're worried I might discipline you again, but don't overdo it." He hits my forehead with his knuckle, saying, "Use your head, be smart. Can you do that for your mentor?"

"Yes, Bruce, I can, and I will."

He says, "Off we go then," and he grabs the back of my neck, sounding confident/nervous, he adds, "Get your ass moving." I move, but I can't walk normally because of the butt plug. When I'm stumbling out the office door, Bruce squeezes my neck, muttering, "Watch where you're going," and tightens his grip at the back of my neck. That hurt, so going through the locker building's front door, I complained, "Ow, Bruce, that's too hard," and he muttered, "Stop it. I need the practice, but it's for show only. It's not the way you and I will normally do things. Just for tonight," and up the boardwalk, we go.

It's a short trip, but the butt plug continues to be a problem making me walk oddly, bowlegged almost, and with Bruce pushing my head forward unnaturally, I stumble a few more times before we get to the hotel. By the time I'm stumbling into the bar, I don't need to fake Bruce being tough on me because, between the butt plug and Bruce's too-hard grip on my neck, my face is scrunched up with both pain and discomfort. 

Richard sees my scrunched-up expression and nods approvingly at Bruce, who jolts me to a stop and then says to Richard, "Here is the slightly improved recruit you've assigned to me with orders to shape him up. It's been no walk in the park, Richard, but I was able to make a little progress with him."

Richard smiles, "Yes, it appears you have. Um, hold him there for a minute, Bruce." Bruce tightens his grip even tighter as he mumbles cockily, "Yeah, sure thing, Richard." 

Smirking at me, Richard says, "So, Mr. Navy Seal, you don't appear as sure of yourself as you were two nights ago. Not quite the swaggering ex-Navy Seal I first encountered."

My feet are unnaturally apart, and I'm leaning forward because of the butt plug; plus, Bruce has my head bent even further forward, using his painful grip on the back of my neck. All of that is causing flickers of submissiveness in my mind toward Bruce, not Richard. I'm not angry at Bruce, though, because I like the submissive flickers I'm experiencing, and he's just trying to impress Richard. 

During Bruce's earlier mentoring, he had me grinning to myself at his cluelessness, so it wasn't bad at all. And, compared to Richard and that fat prick, Art, my mentor, Bruce, is a sweetheart, and I kinda like him. Sure, until now, he hasn't been especially competent but, hell, he did get everything done with me he was ordered to do, and he's shown some spunk getting me here.
Adding to my growing dislike for Richard is the way he is obviously enjoying my current humble status.

Smirking at me again, Richard flicks a finger, catching a piece of the lady's sleeveless, too-big sweater I'm wearing. Then, grinning at Bruce, he snickers and says, "A lady's sweater? Haha, that is a move directly from the mentoring manual. It's a classic humiliation technique... making a recruit wear female clothing. Brilliant move, Bruce. You've been studying the mentoring handbook, haven't you." 

Beaming at the compliment, Bruce goes, "Yes, Richard, I've memorized it." 

Patting Bruce on the shoulder, Richard asks, "Did he give you any trouble?"

Bruce says, "Yeah, some at first, but nothing I couldn't handle. Um, I may have gotten a bit too hard on him, actually, but I wanted him docile when you next saw him, and as you can see, he is very docile."

Getting back on his stool, Richard says, "Yeah, he is, and it's okay to use excessive force initially. It gets a recruit's attention. Christ, you did a better job with him than either Art, or I did. I'm impressed, but, um, for now, park him somewhere out of earshot so you and I can have a drink while you're giving me a full report."

"Yes, Richard," and then, with a push on my neck, he says to me, "Ge," and he walks me about fifteen feet to where there is an entrance to one of the many hotel pubs. He says, "Over there, Zachery," and pushes me to where the entrance and barroom walls form a ninety-degree angle. In other words, he puts me in the corner and says, "Keep your nose touching where the walls meet. Seriously, I'm not joking, and I can see you from the bar. Nose touching the corner, or I come over and smack your ass."

I do that and smell a stale cigarette smell on the wallpaper from the smoke absorbed off a million cigarettes over the years."

He looks to see my nose is touching, pats the back of my head, and mumbles, "I'll be back to get you as soon as I can." Takes a few steps away, then quickly returns to see if I moved. I didn't, so he pats my ass, mumbling, "Be a good boy for me, do what you're told, or you'll be punished. That's how this works."

As he goes back to have a drink with Richard, I shudder because, Goddamn, there was no mistaking it this time. I sensed a strong stab of submissiveness, and the submissive feel had Bruce's name all over it. I didn't think he could make that happen, and I'm proud of him. I don't expect anything like a Jekyll and Hyde thing to happen. He's trying to suck up to Richard, but he has definitely gained some confidence from the successes he's had with me so far. As I said, he got me to do everything Richard said and a little more. So, it's understandable that he's now feeling cockily good about himself. The thing I'm wondering about is how much of this is me letting him do these things, and how much is Bruce somehow getting into my head without me realizing it? Right now, I can't be sure, which is quite interesting.

I'm determined to see this through and find out what the pussy boy club is all about. Oh shit, though, right now, I can only imagine what the people at the tables ten feet away from me are thinking. A grown man is made to stand in the corner. But, yeah, I gotta hand it to Bruce because standing me in the corner is a pretty effective way to bring me down a peg or two, as Richard told him to do. Parking a recruit in a corner must be in the mentor's manual because Bruce wouldn't do it otherwise, would he? 

Then, I snicker to myself because I'm surprised at how interested I am in all this crazy shit. Sure, there's the submissive/dominant relationship thing that I and everybody else have heard about, but few, including me, haven't had any experience with it. I'd heard about and read a little about it, but have always assumed it's mostly an exaggeration. Hell, we pretended to be sub/dom kids in prep school until it got out of hand, and I had a wicked fistfight with one of the kids. A long time ago...

Now, since Ronny left me, I'm looking for adventure on my own. I bumbled into Richard at this very bar two nights ago, and here I am, standing in a corner. Sure, all of this has been a challenge for my ego, but the knowledge that, at any point, I could tie Richard, Art, and Bruce in one big square knot emboldens me and allows leeway so I can tolerate humiliation without resorting to violence.

It's interesting to see another side of the gay experience, so I'm curious about where all this is leading. The first couple of months after Ronny's death, that's the only thing I thought about. It was consuming me, occupying most of my mind, but now the trauma has faded somewhat, and I find myself searching for something. I don't know what I'm searching for, but something and this is what I've found so far. Sure, it's a bizarre start to my search, and that's for damn sure.

Anyway, I've plenty of time to think about all this, standing in the corner like a naughty four-year-old. Then, after, well, I'm not sure, maybe ten minutes or so, someone taps me on the shoulder, asking, "Are you okay, pal? Is something wrong?"

I mumble, "No, I'm good. I'm just working something out in my head; I'm fine." Haha, what a lame reason for standing in the corner. No one else approaches, but I hear snickers and mumblings and then raucous laughter. They are not necessarily laughing at me, but they probably are... I know I would have if my situation had been reversed with one of them. There are numerous mumbled 'bad boy' comments and giggling. The thing is, I don't know these assholes, so I try not to let it get to me, but it is hard to ignore. 

It seems a very long time before Bruce again grabs the back of my neck and says, "Sorry it took so long, but come on, get moving." 

That was the first time I was glad to feel his too-tight grip on my neck. Then, we took a five-minute walk in the same hotel. I managed to lift my phone from my pocket long enough to see it was almost nine o'clock, so I must have stood in the corner for about a half-hour. Only Bruce and I were walking, but at the restaurant's entrance, I saw Richard. He was talking with someone, a man in his early thirties who had a haircut like Bruce's and mine. Gee, I guess we'll be four pussy boys for dinner. 

Pushing me to the front receptionist, Bruce says, "Set us up for four dinners." Letting go of my neck. Those were the first words Bruce said since getting me from the corner, and I never gave a thought to saying anything myself. Huh, that's so different from how Bruce and I were on the beach and doing the inspection nonsense after that. Richard probably makes Bruce uptight as he does with me.

Approaching the front desk, I'm acknowledging a new vibe between Bruce and me, and I think his making me stand in the corner for a half-hour has brought on a new submissive sense that's settling in on me. And, how surprisingly interesting that is. Unfortunately, because of the new submissiveness, I sound like a timid geek, asking, "Ah, could we have, um, four for the buffet."

The guy at the desk glances at me like 'what the fuck? Then he gets the attention of a lady with big hair who sways her big hips side to side, walking over, and the man tells her, "Party of four. Put them in Michael's station."

She wiggles her finger at me, saying, "This way, honey," and smiles, showing some lipstick on her large upper teeth. I follow her, and the other three follow me, all chuckling about something that probably isn't worth chuckling about. Then, immediately after getting seated, a waiter comes over and takes our drinks' order. They all order a bee after carding Bruce. The waiter only gives a cursory glance at what Bruce's fake ID is. Handing the ID back to Bruce, the waiter says, "Sorry, it's house rules," and turning to me, he asks, "And for you, sir?" Bruce says, "He's not drinking. Water will be fine."  

The fourth person at the table, a thirty-something pussy boy, doesn't get introduced to me or me to him. He's average-looking, medium height, and build. He has a thin, very forward-pointed nose and a very dark tan. His haircut is hardly necessary. He has a serious receding hairline, although I mostly notice him because he's a bit of a loudmouth. He's also a brown-nosing suck-up, very deferential to Richard. His name is Cliff, and he must have some false teeth because they click when he talks. 

The beers come, and then the waiter has some things to tell us about specials tonight and items to look for at the buffet layout. Richard rudely waves the guy away before he's finished telling us his memorized pitch, and Bruce announces, "Gentlemen, my recruit will get our plates for us."

He slaps the back of my head, saying, "Listen up!"

Richard says, "Nice idea, Bruce," then he tells me what food to fetch for him and adds, "Choose some surprise dishes you hope I'll like."

Bruce hits my shoulder, "You heard him get going," so I get going. In my head, I'm laughing at myself for doing this, but also laughing about what I can do to all these losers if I have a mind to. These guys would be surprised at what I'm physically capable of, but doing that would end my adventure, and I'm not ready to let it go, not yet. Also, I don't want to get Bruce in trouble.

Anyway, except for the butt plug, I'm feeling fine in this mild submissive state of mind, and I'm still very much intrigued by everything. It's surreal in many ways. Almost as if I somehow have been transported to a brand new bizarro world. Is it completely different from my prior four years in the military, or is that a fact? If I'm honest about it, there were many absurd parts of military life, dumb and/or unnecessary things required of us grunts because that's just the way it's always been, and we never questioned anything. Well, we bitched about lots of stuff, but we followed orders too.

In the military, I was never submissive, per se, but I did what I was told, so what's the difference?
Richard starts eating as soon as I put the plate of food in front of him. A seemingly impatient Cliff tells me what he wants from the buffet, shouting it, actually. Then he tells Bruce, "Tell your boy to rustle up our waiter too. I need to switch from the beer to a real drink." 

Bruce says to me, "You heard him." I say, "Yes, Bruce," and feel my dick squirm in my too-small jeans for the first time as a result of my brand-new, Bruce-induced submissive state of mind. It's pretty weak, but I like it, and Bruce looks cool and he is seemingly getting more and more confident giving me orders. He's young, but he has a sort of authoritative, cool look, one I hadn't noticed until now.

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty good after that submissive twinge in my dick, and off I go to fetch our waiter. I flagged him down and then stood in the buffet line again, this time to get Cliff's plate of food. I can feel the gawking of the other diners, gawking at the way I'm standing and walking because of the butt plug up my ass, but there's nothing I can do about that.

The gawking is understandable considering I'm still walking as if I have a load in my pants, and these gawkers have plenty of chances to gawk because I need to do a helluva lot of walking back and forth to the buffet, plus running other errands for the big shots. Constantly on my mind is the butt plug. It's rubbing none-stop against my prostate gland, keeping me on the very edge of springing a boner. My cock stays firm, just this side of hard and seriously complicating my efforts to remember all the different food dishes each guy told me he wanted. This isn't as simple a task as it should be, in other words.

After getting Bruce's plate, he says, "Richard wants seconds," and Richard tells me to take his plate away and get him a new one and blah, blah, blah. Then Cliff wants seconds on the crab legs, and they all get more drinks, so I need to find out the real, supposedly waiter again. It's twenty-after-ten before Bruce tells me, "Get something quick for yourself; we're almost ready for desserts."

I'm not hungry, but I get a little food and then run back and forth to get desserts for my superiors.
Except for saying, "Yes, Bruce," a few times, I haven't spoken at all during dinner. Except for Bruce giving me orders and me listening to the guys telling me what to bring them from the buffet, no one has spoken to me—not in any conversational way. I'm the flunky and not worth talking to.

Sure, I heard snippets of their conversation while going back and forth to the buffet line. Mostly it's been Richard pontificating how an ideal pussy boy should act. He also describes an upcoming boat outing for the ten pussy boys who had the best records over the past three months. They'll be going to the Caribbean for five days, and then he went on and on about a big trip some lucky pussy boys would be going on in September to a beach in Iceland where there are the best black-sand beaches in the world and blah, blah, blah.

Cliff and Bruce hanging on Richard's every word. Then, abruptly, Richard says, "We're done here! Bruce, send your boy to get our waiter." He does that, and I get the waiter. Richard pays, and Bruce uses a rough hold on my upper arm to lead me out of the restaurant. We go to the boardwalk, where Cliff says his goodbyes to Richard but only a quick nod to Bruce. Then Cliff takes his clicking teeth with him and walks away without acknowledging I'm even here. He's obviously at a higher rank in the group's hierarchy than Bruce, and I don't even register with him.

Richard tells Bruce, "Christ, I'm horny! Get your boy naked, lubricated, and bent over the desk in my office for his spanking. I'll be there after I return a call to New York, which I'll do out here on the boardwalk enjoying the fresh ocean breeze."

Bruce nods, "Yes, Richards," and jerks on my arm, saying, "Get moving, boy." I'm wicked anxious to get the butt plug out, so I hustle down the boardwalk with Bruce telling me, "Slow down, Goddammit!"

Even though we're alone now, he's still using the same authoritative voice in the restaurant, a much more confident one than I recall he had before dinner. I say, "Yes, Bruce," without really thinking I'd say it, and then notice another stab of submissiveness toward Bruce.

Inside the locker room office, he says, "Get your clothes off quickly," as I'm doing that, he tells me, "When Richard comes in here, I'm going to be spanking you pretty hard. I'll do it, hopefully, so he won't think he needs to do it. He'd do it much harder than I will. I'm looking out for you the best I can, but there are rules I can't avoid." 

I'm not so sure he couldn't do more, but as I pull off the gross jockstrap, something occurs to me along those lines, and I raise my hand and look pleadingly into Bruce's big brown eyes until he sighs and says, "What is it now, Zachery?"

I go, "I'm sorry, Bruce, but would you please talk Richard into letting you discipline me tomorrow instead of Art?"

He has an annoyed 'face', mumbling, "Maybe, but for now, pick up those damn clothes you just took off and fold them neatly. Um, then put them over there on the side chair."

I do that quickly as Bruce peeks out the door to see if Richard's in the building yet. Turning back to me, in the most confident voice he's used yet, he says, "No more talking. Lie your chest on the desk and grip the edge of the desktop on the other side."

I do that, pushing my ass up. Reverting to the old Bruce, the one I know better, he gasps, I suppose, at seeing my ass again. I can't think of another reason he'd have for gasping, even though I didn't know my ass was gasp-worthy. Whatever, he rubs my butt cheeks with both hands, massaging both cheeks and even with the butt plug in place. the massage feels good. Then, taking a deep breath, he begins unscrewing the plug, and I soon feel like I'm going to cum. I don't, but the sizzling sensations coming from my prostate are strong. I can't stop grunting and squirming on the desk, moving my feet a little. Bruce ignores that, totally preoccupied with the butt plug removal and becoming highly aroused as he's doing it.

Omigod, as soon as the plug is out a rush of cold air goes up my wide-open anus making me shiver while Bruce rubs his crotch, almost as arouses as me. After a breathy inhale and exhale, Bruce gets the KY Jelly from the bathroom. With a glob of it on his finger, while making a wheezy-breathing sound he moves his slippery fingertip slowly around the greatly opened circle of my asshole. 

Around and around the big open circle of my anus, his slippery finger goes. The circle feels to me as if it's a BIG circle.  Bruce gasps again before mumbling, "You're only half as wide-open as my cock, and Richard's cock is bigger around than mine, so when he shoves it in, there will be some pain. Only at first, and only from Richard. You'll be wide open enough after Richard fucks you that shoving my hard cock up there probably won't hurt at all."

Then, he rubs directly on my prostate. Circling rubs with the pad of his forefinger, round, and round until I go, "Awk," and a flop of cum spurts out of my flaccid dick exactly like it did the last time Bruce rubbed my prostate. The plop of cum dropped to the flood with Bruce giggling, then saying, "Doing that gave me a boner." 

I gasp a little myself now. Yeah, that was sort of, um, a climax or if not, an orgasm for sure. Conscientious Bruce is looking out the door again, this time mumbling, "He just came in, so I'm going to begin spanking you, hoping that will satisfy him so he won't feel he needs to do it."

He gives my ass a hard slap, then says, "Keep your ass up through your entire spanking," and then begins hard slaps on my ass using his hand. It's not bad at first, but soon, the stinging has my full attention, my buttocks burning hotter and hotter with every smack. Trying not to be a pussy about this, plus remembering to keep my ass up, both those things have my full attention so I'm able to NOT yell, stop! 

That wouldn't have done much good anyway, as Bruce never gave me a 'stop' signal, and using the one I tell my sex bottoms to use wouldn't be of any help here. Wow, though, it seems the spanking is going to go on forever, and my eyes are watering, but that's no big deal as I can't see anything with my face looking at the desktop, anyhow. Then, with my ass about to burst into flames, I hear Richard mutter, "Um, Bruce, shouldn't you be using the tennis racket instead of your hand?" 

Grunting from the effort of spanking me, Bruce goes, "I used it on him before dinner and thought my hand would tenderize his ass better as you'll be fucking him momentarily."

Richard mutters, "Huh, good thinking."

Bruce gives my ass a few more smacks, then stops. My buttocks are on fire, but I don't say a word. Moving my eyes only, I see motion and assume Bruce and Richard are removing their clothes. They all appear to like being naked, taking their clothes off at the drop of a hat, so maybe this is also a nudist-type club. 

As the hot stinging of my buttocks slowly begins to simmer down, I realize something obvious that I should have figured out sooner. It's that Bruce has learned how to keep under wrap the goofiness I witnessed in him that first hour we were together. He keeps it under wraps by not trying out his freethinking ideas on Richard. Instead, Bruce goes totally by the book in his communications with Richard, who I now believe thinks Bruce is competent. Of course, I could blow that misconception out of the water by telling Richard what I know about Bruce.

No-no, though, I'm not inclined to do that because Bruce is the closest thing to an ally I've got in this, um, whatever this is. Still, I have ammunition against Bruce if he turns into Mr. Hyde, but I'd be shocked if he did. Nah, there's simply no chance of that happening. Bruce doesn't have the sadistic, cruel streak that both Richard and Art have.

Richard, sounding impatient, says, "If you're done spanking his ass, get him off the desk and over here. Your boy needs to lick some balls and suck some cock."

With a hand at the back of my neck, Bruce drags me off the desk and pushes me onto my knees, then Richard says, "First, I need to record Zachery asking to suck some dick," and holds his cell phone up. Sounding bored, he records, "Zachery, dude, are you sure you want to have oral sex with me and Bruce?"

Bruce says, "Speak up," and I say, "Yes, I want to suck both your cocks." Bruce rubs my head, saying to Richard, "See? He's responded very well since I got extra rough with him earlier."

Then he says to me, "Go ahead, boy, pick up Richard's cock and get to it."

Maybe I'll purr for Bruce the next time he rubs my head. What's with recording this? Who does he think he'll blackmail me with that? Everybody who knows me knows I've been gay since I was in grade school. I don't ever need to apply for a job anywhere because I'm rich, and I'm not re-upping with the Seals, not without Ronny. So, what good is the recording?

Forgetting about that, I touch Richard's cock, and Omigod, it's mindboggling! This fat eight-inch cock hanging there between his short hairless legs doesn't seem real. Looking at it through slitted eyelids, I begin licking and sucking the head, then all along the shaft. What I'd rather be doing is sucking Bruce's cock. That thought brings to mind something I knew in prep school and college but have been blanking from my mind during my Navy Seal years. It's that I like sucking cock! Especially cocks belonging to someone I like. 

After spending time with Bruce, between him and Richard, there's no doubt who I like more. In fact, I guess I don't like Richard much at all, and I don't care how good-looking he is. His good looks—amazing looks, actually—attracted me initially. Then I discovered his ugly side; his attractiveness is only skin deep.

I do, however, want to experience another one of his fucks. His hard cock grows to nine inches, and after the early pain, there is a tsunami of pleasure coming from that ginormous boner traveling in my rectum and up into my bowels, visiting areas that have never been stimulated from the outside before. It becomes a thrilling ride to a huge climax. Sure, Bruce partially drained my balls ten minutes ago with that prostate massage, and that will cut down significantly on my cum explosion, but the climax part is still going to be a huge event for me. 

With those thoughts percolating in my head, I'm seriously into sucking Richard's cock, and he's into it as well. He's grunting, rubbing my head, and shuffling his feet. It isn't long before he squawks out, "Okay, good. That's good, boy! Stop..." I take his cock out of my mouth and look up at him, still holding his hard cock in my fingers, dripping with spit. He takes a deep breath and says breathlessly, "Get my nuts dripping with spit too." 

This hairless thing Richard insists on is a great aid to cocksuckers, simplifying everything. I never minded a hairy male body or hairy balls, but I've found, now that I'm into sucking cock again, I like this shaved pubic hair deal better.

Bruce stared at me the entire time I was sucking Richard's cock, his big brown eyes were even bigger than normal as he played with himself. Now, he's staring again, his mouth slightly opened, as I lick Richard's scrotum. Each lick began near his asshole and traveled up his scrotum with enough pressure to move his nuts around, my tongue out as far as I could get it, up, up, up from the bottom of his scrotum goes my tongue, up and over the top, then all the way to the root of his hard cock. Holding his hard boner against the side of my face, I do the long scrotum licking several times, only stopping when a squirt of pre-cum hits my forehead and begins drooling down toward my left eye. I swipe at it with my fingers as Richard goes, "Whoops, haha. Did you see that, Bruce?"

Bruce gulps, muttering, "Uh-huh, ah, I mean, yes, Richard." Richard steps away from me, and I let go of his boner. He nods at me, saying to Bruce, "Get him back on the desk."

Bruce barely needs to touch me as I'm cooperating with him without consciously thinking about it. I slide back onto the desktop, mostly on my own. I do not feel the submissive sense I felt earlier toward Bruce, but I still like him fine and want him to impress Richard.

My stomach and chest are flat on the desk, and my hands are holding onto the far edge of the desktop. Then I push my ass up as far as I can, going up on my toes. As expected, Richard gives my buttocks a few hard slaps; then he mounts me.  Bruce had lubed my anus and inside my rectum with globs of jelly lube, and the butt plug opened me up wide, but the pain when Richard forced his huge boner inside me felt almost as bad as the first time he shoved that mammoth boner up my ass. 

A lot of saliva gets spread on the desktop around my chin and cheeks as I make a studdering series of garbled sounds with my mouth against the desk as I'm trying to deal with the pain. The weird sounds I'm making as the pain soars don't sound like screams to me, but Richard says, "Get the ball gag, Bruce."

Bruce takes a long time doing that, on purpose, I'm guessing. Anyway, by the time he's back with that disgusting thing, I've settled down some as the pain's diminished much faster than it did last night. Now I'm making only low groans of pain, and soon not even that because I've reached the neutral zone of no real pain but no pleasure yet, either.

Richard. meanwhile, couldn't care less what my pain level is, he's grunting with each long thrust up inside me, beads of sweat from his forehead dropping on my lower back as he leans over me putting everything he's got into each hard and fast thrust. The slap, slap, slap, sounds reverberate in my ears as I go, "Um, um, um."

Then the pleasure train arrives, and my grunts and groans turn to embarrassing moans of pleasure, encouraging Richard, "Ahh, ahh, oh, oh, oh. It feels so good, ooooh, Richard fuck me."

I get lost in the raw sexual pleasure, squirming unabashedly on the desk and not caring if I look like a dork getting fucked for the first time, continuing my pathetic moaning, quiet moaning at the soaring pleasure, wave after wave of sexual pleasure comes like a flood from my rectum. The immense sexual pleasure is different, but this is like having sex with a pick-up partner from a bar because I don't have any feelings for Richard. He's just a big cock to me. 

Now that I think about it, I never did have any real feelings for him. I mean, other than being enamored by his fucking, which was my only reason for wanting to see him. His good looks had nothing to do with this. Tonight was all about me validating my assumption from the first fuck that it was worth the pain, and I was right... it is. And, no, I'm not saying I'd want a steady diet of this, and I might have had my fill of it forever with this fuck. In fact, I think that's the case, not that I'll have a lot of say about that if I qualify and want to be a part of whatever-the-fuck this is. 

Then, when my climax hits, I almost lift off the desk bringing little Richard along with me, but only momentarily as my hot creamy stream of cum follows a microsecond later, splattering against the front desk drawer with me squealing out a screechy sound and then almost passing out. Omigod, I shudder all over at the after-effects swarming around me, making me unaware, for a few seconds, of anything else. 

After a second's hesitation, Richard's huge boner starts up, plowing my ass, still feeling good, moving back and forth inside me for another minute or so until, with a scary gasping sound, he slams against my buttocks and humps a big load of cum up inside me. He's making loud breathing sounds as I assume he just pumped the second load of his semen into my bowels. Oh man, it really feels squishy in my empty bowels after Bruce earlier did a good job cleaning me out with that enema.

Still making very loud breathing noises, Richard pulls out his big boner, and the whole world flies up into my wide-open asshole. It felt like a rush of air along with everything else. Bruce says excitedly, "That was fantastic to watch! And, um, what an unbelievably magnificent fuck, Richard."

Brown-noser Bruce! 

Richard slaps my ass, muttering, "That's a damn good ass on your recruit, Bruce. You keep it filled up and wide open with overnight butt plugs because I'll be using his asshole often. Your boy is great fucking material. You'll enjoy it too, I'm sure, but only until I want to use it again."

He begins getting dressed, and Bruce is like, "Are you done already, Richard? I thought..." but Richard cuts him off, saying, "It's this Goddamn New York trip tomorrow. I've got to be there at eight o'clock in the morning. Feel free to fuck him all night if you want. He's yours for now."

Bruce goes, "Gee, well, um, it's too bad you need to leave, Richard. I had him all prepared for you."

Pulling up his shorts, another pair that reach past his knees, Richard says, "You're doing a good job with him, Bruce, but you don't need to keep reminding me of that every two minutes." As they discuss me, I'm still on the desktop, forgotten. My face is wet from the spit spray I spewed out when trying not to scream, making those unusual non-screaming sounds.

Richard's ready to leave, which is fine as I got what I wanted from him. He doesn't say anything to me, I suppose, because I'm Bruce's property now. He says to Bruce, "I'll look for your weekly progress report, and I expect progress, too. No matter what you think, Bruce, I know his type, and he's playing you a little. Guys like him still think they're hot shits, so you need to disavow him of that notion."  

Bruce goes, "Yes, Richard, um, but I've got a conflict."

Richard's impatient to leave, asking, "Well, what is it? I gotta get out of here."

"I want to work with my boy all day tomorrow. The first full day, you've always told us, is the most important one, but he has a noon punishment appointment with Art."

Heading for the door, Richard says over his shoulder, "You out rant Art, tell him you'll punish Zachery yourself, and if he doesn't like it, he can go fuck himself. You have the right to all the recruit's time. See ya."

Now it's quiet in here as I breathe a sigh of relief because now I don't need to see that fat fuck, Art, tomorrow. Way to go, Bruce! He sounds relieved Richard is gone, telling me, "It's alright, you can get off the desk now. I'll fuck you later, but not on the desk. I prefer fucking you standing, you leaning over, hands on your knees. That's my thing, ya know." 

I slide off the desk, cum drooling out of my super-wide-opened asshole onto the back of my legs, then down to my calves. Looking at Bruce, I'm waiting for him to tell me what to do. With his seven-inch cock flaccid again, he asks, "Do you think I impressed Richard?"

Nodding, I say enthusiastically, "Yes, Bruce! I thought you impressed the hell out of him. You impressed me, too, actually. You've been great all night."

He's nodding his head, looking smug, then he goes, "Don't just stand there, go into the bathroom and clean yourself up, but leave some of Richard's cum up your ass. I want to fuck you as a sloppy second." 

That's weird, but I go, "Yes, Richard," and right into the bathroom. In there, I'm turning my back to the sink and pushing out my ass, trying to see in the mirror above the sink how wide open Richard's big cock opened me up. The mirror is not low enough, but maybe if I... Then I hear, "Hurry up in there!" So I hurry, cleaning my buttocks and the back of my legs.

Hustling back to the office, Bruce motions with his finger for me to go over to the couch where he's sitting, still naked. He twirls his finger in a circle, saying, "Turn around with your back to me and then bend over. Let's see how well you cleaned yourself." 

I do that, and he starts rubbing my butt cheeks, saying, "Back up more so I don't need to lean forward." I do that, and he smacks my ass, "What do you say when I give you an order?"  

"Yes, Bruce." He slaps me again, saying, "Don't take it for granted that I'll let you slide on everything. That insults me."

I say, "I'm sorry. I  apologize, Bruce." And I am sorry. He's trying to be a good guy, and he got me out of that horseshit with Art tomorrow.

Rubbing down the back of my legs, then, without me feeling it at first, he puts his finger in my asshole, muttering, "It's still too wide open for you to feel my boner going in."  Then I feel him pressing my prostate button as he mumbles, "I'll wait for your anus to close up a little."

Then he sternly says, "Turn around and suck me off the way you did for Richard. If you don't know it, please me more than him. I'm your mentor; for Christ's sake, use your head." 

He has no way of knowing this, but I've been wanting to suck his dick ever since I felt that stab of submissiveness standing in the corner. It was a good feeling, that momentary submissiveness to this young kid. It was totally unexpected but quite nice and very different than what I felt for Art or Richard. It was almost a sweet, submissive sense somehow.

So, anxious to taste his cock, I turn around too fast, and he goes, "Slow down, dammit! You stepped on my foot. It's nice that you're anxious to do what I said but don't anticipate. Wait for me to tell you what's next."

"Yes, Bruce. Sorry." 

Sitting up straighter, he goes, "Okay, forget that. Get down on your knees." As I do that, Bruce sits back further on the sofa, his legs spread, and says, "Obviously, you'll need to lean over, and I want one of your hands under my left butt cheek. I'll be sitting on it, in other words. You'll need your other hand to lift and hold my big cock while sucking it."

His back is against the back cushion of this stupidly deep sofa, so I really do need to lean over so far my crotch is against the front of this piece of furniture. I'm trying to squeeze my hand under his butt cheek until he yells, "NO! Not like that. Do it with your palm up, Zachery. Use your head."

Pulling my hand out, mumbling, "Yes, Bruce, you're right, of course."

I do it with my knuckles dragging on the seat cushion until my left hand is fully under his right butt cheek." He goes, "Good, you can give it a squeeze," so I give it a couple of squeezes. I already knew he had a hot, cute ass.

Bruce says, "Lean over further until you can drop your face on my crotch. Do that now."

Stretching as much as I can, I get my face over his crotch and, with a hand behind my head, he gently pulls my head down until my face is squished against his dick and balls, my ears touching the inside of his thighs on both sides. He says, "Do ten deep inhales, and I want to hear them. Long, deep, noisy inhales to embrace the smell of my crotch, my groin, everything between my legs. We'll do this exercise three or four times every day for at least three weeks, the shortest mentoring period; most go longer than that. You'll soon notice my smell becoming your favorite smell in the world. Later, we'll do the same exercise for my ass. I'll be expecting daily deep rimming, but I don't want to overwhelm you all at once."

Fuck that rimming idea of his, but I already decided some time ago that I like his scent because it's so similar to Cowboy's scent.  Bruce goes on talking a blue streak, but I can't hear what he's saying with his thighs against my ears.

Lifting my head, I hear him say, "... my invention, well, not an invention. I meant to say innovation. It is a process that will get recruits, guys like you who are looking for something but don't know what it is, to latch onto me. My scent will help you become fully submissive to me and realize I can make you a better person. You're my first student, and so you'll be my first recruit to eventually know in your heart, brain, and soul that my crotch smells is the best smell you've ever, um, smelled. And, because you're my first recruit, like a mother's first child, you will probably be my favorite pussy boy ever. What do you think about that?"

Okay, uh-huh, sure, who can argue with that logic? Jesus, when I was beginning to really like him and that touch of submission I sensed toward him, he went off the rails again. He had a few nutty episodes before dinner, but this one tops everything.

I say, "Um, that sounds like a foolproof plan." 

Bruce considers that and then says, "Who's the fool, Zachery? I don't like hearing the word 'fool' when referring to my innovative concept."

Oh boy! Well, here goes. I say, "You're obviously not a fool. I said foolproof. Like idiot-proof, meaning even an idiot or a fool would need to agree your innovation is so clearly correct they couldn't disagree." 

He says, "You're still talking too much, and, hey, you didn't talk too much when Richard was here. If you think you're playing me for a fool, think again."

I know what's happening here. I figured it out earlier. When Bruce is with Richard, he simply follows the manual for mentors. By sticking with that, he doesn't go nutty. When he's free-thinking on his own, the kooky Bruce appears. Yep, that's gotta, be it.

He says, "We got sidetracked. Listen, I understand that some things seem crazy to you, but all innovators are initially called crazy. Do the deep inhale of my private parts, and we'll see how crazy you think I am a week from now when you won't be able to get enough of how my body smells."

Resigned to this goofiness, I drop my face between his thighs, he says, "Ten big inhales," and I inhale his scent, which I've already said several times I like. Making heavy breathy sounds and by the third inhale I notice I'm not smelling anything and might as well inhale air from the room. His scent is subtle, as most body scents are, and instead of becoming addicted to it, I don't smell it at all. At some point, my hand came out from under Bruce's ass, but neither of us noticed that.

Then, after doing the ten inhales, I lift my head and look at him, like, what now? He says, "Do some more," and I do three more, but that's all I'm going to do because I'm getting to the point where my oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange leads to me hyperventilating. I mention that to Bruce, and he goes, "Oh, I didn't think about that. Okay, you did good. You're doing what you're told again. Keep it up." 

Normalizing my breathing, I nod my head, which he slaps, but not hard, and I remember to mumble, "Yes, Bruce."

He mutters, "You know what? I really like you, Zachery. Okay, for now, but we'll be doing that exercise many, many times. Also, the same exercise in my buttock/asshole area. For now, you get to suck your dom's cock."

Actually, I am anxious to do that because he has a big, really primo-looking penis. Seriously!

Richard got me back into a cocksucking frame of mind two nights ago, and I need to give him props for that. Yes, as I've said, I did lots of cocksucking back in the day and liked it very much then, too. Well, maybe not as much as Cowboy likes sucking dick, but I did get into it back then, and now I'm into it again. I've always especially liked sucking cocks like Bruce's, and I don't just mean the size. It's the 'look' of it, Bruce's penis is a picture, it's almost pretty.

He gently pushes my head down again, and I use an old technique of mine to lip the head of his cock into my gripping lips without using my hands, just my tongue. That used to impress my gay prep school buddies, but with my whole face in his crotch, Bruce couldn't tell that's what I did, so it was kinda a wasted effort. He goes, "Give me the best blowjob you've ever given anyone. Make me proud of you."

I actually didn't need his encouragement because the fun of sucking cock had come roaring back into my memory banks. I'm gobbling up his cock, my lips sucking the shaft and head, my tongue lapping all over all of it, saliva drooling off his cock and down my chin as my fingers slowly stroke the more than half the shaft I can't fit in my mouth. 

Bruce is hopping on the sofa cushions, leaning hard against the back cushions and rubbing my head, his fingers ruffling back my inch-long hair. My cock quickly is a steel shaft with my balls churning out semen. Bruce's cock isn't going to get much harder than this, so I close my lip-covered teeth tightly on the shaft and bob my head back and forth, in effect jerking him off with my lips.

Shortly, he lifts his hips off the sofa, grunting a strangled "Umph," and blows a big load of cum down my throat. My head pulls back a little just in time for his second shorter shot of cum that blasts into my mouth, coating my tongue and cheeks with his amazingly sweet-tasting creamy cum.

Holy shit, another thirty seconds, and I would have blown my load the way Cowboy does when sucking me off. Awesome oral sex on Bruce's cock... for me, it was, I know that much! Then Cowboy chirps in with, "Holy fuck, you're good! That was a dom-worthy blowjob right there. You get a gold star, recruit."

Wow, I enjoyed that! I say, "You've got one of the best dicks I've had the pleasure to blow, so part of the credit goes to you and your penis."

He lifts it, mumbling, "Yep, he's a beauty alright."

Bruce strokes his pretty penis tightly, getting a last bubble of com to squeeze out, then he nods his head at it, and I lean my head down to tongue the cum bubble into my mouth. Sweet tasting, it really is.

Bruce shuffles forward on the deep couch cushion, saying, "We'll put our shorts on and grab a cigarette outside." We both stand, and he adds, "One cigarette, that's all you're allowed, Zachery. It's a treat because you did an outstanding blow job for your dom."

I'm not sure when he and I switched to referring to him as 'dom,' but it probably applies anyway, so what's the harm? Yeah, I could definitely use a smoke. It is, however, a bit disconcerting to me how easily I slipped back into the nicotine routine. Four years without a cigarette, then smoke one or two, and I'm right back in the habit. Well, fuck it, I like smoking. 

We wear our shorts and walk out onto the boardwalk without shirts and barefoot. The night has cleared from the cloudiness of earlier, and it's another star-filled sky. Bruce has my pack of Marlboro, and, with a cigarette between his lips, he offers me one. Taking it, I mutter, "Thanks," and we light up. Inhaling deeply, as Bruce did with the first two he smoked when we were on the beach, he exhales and says, "It's hard for me to believe I was so tense and apprehensive when I first saw you. Holy crap, I was thinking, I've got to break this guy down? Now, three hours later, when I've done a helluva good job of doing that, well, it's very satisfying, and my confidence is through the roof."

When I don't comment, he bumps my shoulder and murmurs, "What have you to say to that?" 

Shrugging, I'm thinking, maybe I can find out how old he is by exaggerating his probable age, saying, "I think you did do a commendable job for a guy who's probably, I'm just guessing, only twenty-five."

He goes, "Twenty-five! I'm only nineteen! Christ, do I look twenty-five to you? Most people guess my age at seventeen, or even sixteen."

Ha, that was easy. Covering my tracks, so to speak, I say, "Oh, not your looks. I meant how you handled yourself."

He goes, "Oh, that. Yeah, I see what you mean."

I add, "You're an awesome-looking nineteen, though, I must say."

"Flattery, huh? And from someone as handsome as you. Please!"

I go, "No, I'm serious, Bruce, you're a good-looking dude, cute even, if you don't mind me saying so."

We wander over to the boardwalk's far railing as Bruce drags off his cigarette and says, "Well, I don't mind. Thanks for noticing."

If he could eliminate his propensity for going looney on me now and then, I could get into this kid. Or am I again projecting Cowboy into my thinking? One thing I know for sure is I'm not involving Cowboy in any of this, um, whatever this is I'm involved in. Two separate worlds!

Before I'm halfway finished with my cigarette, Bruce lights his second off the first. He goes to flick it over the railing onto the beach but stops and hands the burning butt to me, saying, "I almost forgot that I put you in charge of the butts."

That reminds me, and I go, "Um, if it's not too presumptuous of me to ask my dom this, ah, do you know how I can score some weed?"

He shrugs, "It's okay for you to ask me stuff because I'm your leader, and you're not from around here. Richard filled me in on everything you told him about yourself the night he met you."

I wait, and when he doesn't go on, I'm like, "Um, yeah I spilled my guts to him that night, so, um, about the weed?"

"Yeah, I'll hook you up with a buddy I graduated high school with last spring. He's a minor dealer, but he's got pot coming out of his ass."

I go, "Does he have any that's not coming out of his ass?"

Bruce spits as he barks out a laugh and goes, "Holy shit, that's funny," and he hugs my shoulders, adding, 'You're a hot shit, aren't you?"

So, Cowboy is going to be happy. That boy loves him some weed to smoke. Still chuckling, Bruce finishes his second cigarette as I do my first. He hands me that butt, saying, "Okay, we'll go back inside, and I'll have you rim my ass before I fuck you, and then we'll call it a night. I expect you to be ready to go again at ten o'clock tomorrow morning at my apartment. I'll give you the address. Well, to be honest, I share the apartment with a buddy of mine, but I call it my apartment because he's away for a couple of weeks. That works out well for us, huh?" 

I drop the three cigarette butts in a trash barrel two feet away and say, "Um, about the rimming thing, ah, that's something I don't do, Bruce. Almost anything else but that."

He pats my back, chuckling, and then mumbling, "You are so misguided, but you're a recruit, so... Ya see, recruits do not decide what they'll do; their mentors decide that, and you will rim my ass and like it. Now, no more of that nonsense. Don't give me a hard time about it, either. Things are going along too well for you to screw things up now."

Lightly holding the back of my neck, he says, "Get moving, boy."

I swore I'd never rim anyone's ass, but it looks like I am going to do it because I, too, do not want to end on a sour note tonight; plus, I very much want Bruce to fuck me. I'm so into bottoming; I'd be wicked disappointed if I missed out on doing it with Bruce. Seriously!"

Inside, Bruce says, "Drop your shorts and bend over, but don't put your hands on your knees. You'll need them spreading my butt cheeks so you can get your face right in there, your nose pushing my asshole to start with."

Well, this is another of those things where I think... I've done so many other things already; am I going to waste all that effort and quit, or do this one extra thing, hoping it's the last one?

Of course, I'll do this one more thing. Dropping my shorts and then putting them on the chair before being told to, I bend over and wait for Bruce to tell me what comes next. He doesn't tell me anything, bends over and back up until his ass hits my face. I suppose I can figure out the rest. He has the same body smell here as I noticed his crotch has, which is to say, a subtle, pleasant one. The same one I noticed initially during the crotch-smell exercise.

He says, "What are you waiting for, Zachery? Spread my buttocks and do what I told you."

With a hand on each of his cute butt cheeks, I spread them apart and gawk at his rosebud-tight anus. Huh, again, the hairless thing really helps. It might be a deal-breaker if his rosy-colored tight anus was protected with ass hairs all around it. And this kid's body, as I've noticed all evening, is super clean, and his ass is no exception. Hell, it looks as though he never shit out of it.

Bruce says, "I love getting my ass rimmed so 'effing much, so go ahead, Zachery, lick your dom's ass."

Hmm, here goes, and I do a long lick, first on his left butt cheek, all pinkish-white, hairless, and clean-smelling. Huh, that was no big deal, so I do it again and then lick right over his anus, and nothing... it was like licking his face or stomach, whatever. The stuff I'm learning from these guys is interesting. And, I'm learning a lot about myself too—things I used to know but submerged into my subconscious during my Navy Seal years.

I'd probably have remembered anyway, but this exposure to Richard and Bruce speeded the process up. Not that I ever rimmed an ass before... that's brand new. So, what the fuck, I'll make Bruce happy. I start continuous lick over his asshole and soon feel the lips quivering under my tongue. Moving asshole lips startled me, ya know?

Bruce says, "You're doing great. Try getting your tongue up my ass now. Inside my rectum."

The craziest thing is I feel the most dreamy submissiveness flow over me, realizing Bruce has me licking his asshole and now wants me to try fucking his ass with my tongue, and I discover I want so badly to do that for him. Again I'm noticing what I felt before, and it's this submissive feeling toward Bruce is very calming, very pleasant, so I try my best to get my tongue inside his ass, licking his asshole and pushing my tongue at it while the submissive sense deepens and deepens.

Finally, after I don't know how long, from far away I hear Bruce saying, "Haha, stop you crazy rimming bastard, stop or I'll blow the load I want to shoot up your ass. Stop it! Jesus!"

Pulling my head out of his ass, or away from his buttocks at least, I'm dazed. Spit is all around my mouth, on my nose, and down my chin. I'm like, "Wha...?"

He doesn't realize I'm in never-never land as he says, "Omigod, I'm so hot to do this," and five seconds later, still bending over, I feel Bruce's finger pushing the KY Jelly up my ass, so in a stupor, I put my hands on my knees and automatically push up my ass. Bruce murmurs, "That's my boy," and then forces his significant boner in past my sphincter muscles, the outside and inside ones as I howl, "Ahhh!"

Yeah, it hurt, but as Cowboy says, "It hurt so good!"

It hurt so 'good' for a full minute, but after that first howl, I grunt and take it, now getting used to the pain the way Cowboy got used to it years ago. Bruce has a firm hold on both sides of my hips, now pulling me back into his full seven-inch thrusts, and it's beginning to feel so good my eyes are watering, so I close them and bite my lower lip.

Moaning, "Oh, umm, ooh, Bruce, yeah, umm, umm," I want more and more but only hold off my climax about three minutes before blowing cum at the speed of light from my castiron boner, the spray again clipping my chin as it flies by to quickly give in to the pull of gravity and land five feet away, ignominiously, dropping to the floor, splat.

Bruce apparently can't hold off his climax either, as he's tight against my buttock grunting and shooting a lot of cum into my bowels. We're both gasping for oxygen, taking fast, deep breaths. He steps back, slaps my ass, of course, he does, then exclaims, "Richard is correct, you've got an ass made for fucking," and he slaps it again.

I'm concentrating on those buzzing, beautiful after-effects sizzling from my rectum and penis. Nice, really nice.

He's in the bathroom cleaning up already as I slowly straighten up, feeling back there at my latest wide-open asshole. At this rate, my ass won't be made for fucking for much longer. These guys will have it flabby in short order. Damn, though, I am so into bottoming now I wonder if I'll be any good at topping again.

I follow Bruce into the bathroom and hug him from behind as he stands at the sink. I murmur, "What a great fuck, dom. You did me up really good."

He goes, "And I can do it better, too. You got me so hot with the rimming I fucked you too fast."

I say, "No, it was perfect."

He straightens up to grab some paper towels and, sounding stern now, says, "Let go of me and clean your ass." 

Letting go of him, I mutter, "Yes, Bruce," and feel the submissiveness again. It makes me smile. I look at his reflection in the mirror and smile again. This is working out better than even my most optimistic hopes after talking with myself on the boardwalk.

As I'm wiping my ass with wet paper towels, I try talking myself out of what I'm dying to ask, but can't and ask Brue the same thing I asked Richard the first night, I go, "Um, dom, would you do me again tonight."

In a normal conversational voice, he goes, "I'd like to, Zachery, but we've got all day tomorrow and I'm fucking exhausted. I was under a lot of stress, and even though it turned out to be a near-perfect first mentoring experience, the earlier stress was tiring as a motherfucker. So, I'm sorry, but no more tonight. I'll make it up to you, though."

In my submissive frame of mine, I don't even think of arguing. My dom said, no, so that's that. I mutter, "Yes, Bruce, I understand."

Drying my ass and the back of my legs, I add, "I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

"I'm sure you are, but for now, get the clothes you wore when you got here hours ago and put the ones from the lost and found bin. You can keep the jockstrap, though." 

I do that, getting dressed in cum soaked clothes that are now dry, then carrying the jockstrap I go back into the office where I see Bruce typing into his cell phone, so I wait to see what I need to do now.

He looks up at me, saying, "I don't want to forget stuff for my report. What's your phone number? I'll text you my address. Be there at ten tomorrow morning and, oh, bring a bathing suit. We'll spend time on the beach and continue your mentoring training."

I tell him my number and say, "Um, so, should I leave now? Is that okay?"

He says, "Yeah, you can take off, and, Zachery, you did good. Keep it up."

I nod, mumbling, "Thanks, so, I guess I'll leave then."

He stops typing and says, "Yes, get the hell out of here. I need to finish this."

Walking out into the night, I see people are still on the boardwalk, which is normal. Not much else has been right, so I notice it, whereas I normally wouldn't. I'm still in a fog as I reach for my cigarettes, then remember Bruce has them. Huh, looking at my cell phone, I see it's almost two o'clock in the morning. Good, Cowboy will be sleeping. Oh, yeah, Cowboy. Hmm, I need to think about that because I am definitely going to continue with Bruce. Jesus, he's nineteen, the same as Cowboy. That is so fucking cool!

Imagine me having sex with two nineteen-year-old young men, one as a top and one as a bottom. That covers it pretty well, but no it doesn't because one blows me and I blow the other, plus I throw in 'rimming' to show my appreciation. Now, that covers it! 

I'm not even considering asking Cowboy to rim my ass. I don't need it or want him to do it, but I don't mind doing it for Bruce, not after tonight when I found out it's no big deal. Not sexually for me, I mean doing it I didn't get sexually aroused unless diving into a submissive state is considered sexual. No, I don't think it qualifies as sexual. It was pretty cool, though.

The negative factor, a big one as it's turning out, is Richard. I've had all the validation I need to know his ginormous boner creates more pleasure than pain, but I find I don't like that smallish, extremely good-looking creep. I was captivated at first by his good looks and big dick, but he's a sadistic creature with no other positive parts to him. Bruce, on the other hand, tries to be harsh, but it doesn't come naturally to him as it does to Richard. Bruce got all his mean-prick ideas from Richard's mentor manual, I'm sure of that. On his own, he's goofy but much more of a normal, albeit oversexed, nineteen years old, and nice, too. Kinda goofy-cute like Cowboy's buddy, Lee.

The walk back to the hotel isn't a long one, and in the suite, it's deadly silent, so that's good. Cowboy's asleep. I follow my previous night's routine of quietly showering and slipping into bed. Tonight, Cowboy is so deeply asleep that he doesn't immediately slide over to sleep partially on top of me. Huh, I kind of miss that. Then, I go out like a light.

The next morning, I reach over to feel Cowboy, but he's already up. Lifting on my elbows, I listen closely and hear the shower running. Good, he's showering, so I lie back down, pissed off that we're not having our normal morning sex. Swell.

After ten minutes I give up trying to go back to sleep and get out of bed, Hmm, my asshole is wicked sore. Funny, I didn't notice that walking home. Looking around, I spot the mirror over the desk. It's low enough that I can check out my ass with it. Pulling my boxer shorts down and turning around, I gawk at my buttocks. That's not telling me anything, so I use both hands to spread them apart. Huh. My asshole looks like a perfectly normal asshole.

Jesus, after all that extreme stretching last night, it doesn't even look sore, although it is. I walk around the room, and I'm happy to find I can walk fine, and my ass doesn't hurt enough to bother me much.

I need to piss, wash up, and brush my teeth. Then I all of a sudden panic... what the fuck time is it? Shit, I'm supposed to meet Bruce at ten O'clock. Where did I throw my shorts last night? Oh, there they are under the chair. I get my cell phone from the pocket of my shorts and see it's eight-twenty. Eight-twenty? I only had six hours sleep? That blows, but at least I won't be late meeting my dom. Oh fuck, I said dom instead of Bruce. That's fucked up.

Knocking on the bathroom door once, then opening it, I see Cowboy walking out of the shower stall. Oh shit, there's his patented awesome smile, "Hi, night owl." I smile back, saying, "Good morning, Cowboy. How are things going with you mentoring the virgin?"

Vigorously drying himself, he goes, "Not great, but we make out and grope a lot, so it ain't too bad. How was your date last night?"

As I'm taking a piss, I say, "Great, and get this, I just found out he's nineteen."

Putting toothpaste on his electric toothbrush, Cowboy mumbles, "He's lucky then 'cause you're good with boys that age, and I should know."

Washing my hands at the sink next to him, I say, 'Well, guess what? I'm bottoming for him."

Cowboy's face lights up, "No shit? Well, when I met you and Ronny at college years ago, you and I would exchange bottoming experiences, so it's nothing new to you."

Gee, he's blase about this news, which I'm so happy about. I'll leave it at that and be proud of myself for not lying to him.

He rinses out his mouth, grinning and saying, "I hope you don't think that's going to get you out of fucking your ward this morning. We gotta do a quickie to keep our hitting streak alive."

I mumble, "Just as soon as I brush my teeth, you're on, bro."

To be continued...