[Martin relates how he bounced back from the gang-bang of the night before and immediately went looking for trouble again. Readers, if you believe that no bad deed should go unpunished, then ignore this account. Martin's credo is that no bad deed should go unexplored!

Anyway; I've given up any attempt to control my own chronicles, so it's over to the great man himself.]

I awakened to a world of pain on the morning after the marathon session with Vince and his team of fuckers.

I was wrong about the fractured cheekbone; it was just bruised. My asshole felt as if it had been scoured with steel wool and my left eye sported a real doozy of a shiner.

I viewed the pain as worthwhile, however. Despite the abuse and the humiliations of the night before, I was happy with the outcome. I was even happy that I stank of stale sweat and piss.

I sat on the john and dumped a significant load of cum. Before flushing it away, I viewed the jelly-like globules of jizz that bobbed around my turd in the toilet bowl. My mind was in action replay mode.

I remembered the five young guys who had pumped me full of their juices. More specifically, I recalled the five young dicks that had repeatedly thrust inside me.

In the shower, it suddenly hit me that I hadn't shot a load myself the night before. I was tempted to jerk myself off. God knows my cock was hard enough.

Thoughts of Vince, the two Waynes, JB and Coop made me incredibly horny. But I resisted temptation. I thought I'd scrub myself clean and see how I looked in the mirror. If my reflection wasn't too horrific, then I might put on some glad-rags and cruise a few beats; see if any nice young things craved a head-job.

I didn't actively contemplate being fucked. My ass seemed too tender for that.

So, after breakfast, I headed off to tour every gay hot spot I could think of. It was only 10am though - a bit early to be out hunting.

Night-times are best of course, and a few beats in the business area are always busy at lunch-times during the working week. Lots of respectable married men are prone to avail themselves of an anonymous blow-job during their break. Similarly, a lot of guys are up for the same thing on their way home after a hard day at the office.

Mornings are generally quiet but, on a good day, one might encounter someone young and unemployed. Either that or a surfie type.

I wasted half a tank of gas on fruitless visits to truck stops and public rest rooms.

I came across a few elderly guys who were on the lookout for cocks to suck, but I wasn't remotely interested. I'll admit I've occasionally surrendered to an older guy's mouth. There's something deliciously gross about being blown by a guy who takes his dentures out to give you a smooth ride.

The clamping of toothless gums is almost irresistible and I find myself blowing in record time. But my ambition on this particular morning was to suck on a fresh young dick - preferably uncut - and to swallow some fresh young jizz.

I gave up my quest around midday. I was hungry and stopped at a pretty crappy diner - a real greasy spoon - in the downtown area. It was fairly busy but I managed to get a booth all to myself.

I was struck by the broad range of fellow diners. There were middle-aged guys who looked hung-over; there were a few young couples - lovers who made little conversation other than with their eyes; and there were a few young guys, all of them as scruffy as my visitors of the night before and all of them affecting a masculine swagger that impressed no one but themselves.

There was also a woman perched on a stool; she was seated most precariously and she appeared to be zonked on illicit substances. I assumed she was a prostitute who'd just knocked off after a long night of loveless fucking. I could relate to that.

I was half-way though a cheeseburger and fries when someone slid into the seat opposite me. This annoyed me. I'd been relishing my solitude.

When I raised my eyes, I was surprised to see who it was that had joined me. It was Coop. The youngster with white-blond hair. He of the nine-inch dick that had rampaged inside me a few hours earlier.

I smiled a welcome. I was genuinely pleased to see him again. I'd been mightily impressed by his equipment and he had been the least abusive, the least violent of the gang of five. In the light of day, he looked far younger than I'd previously assumed. He hadn't even begun to shave yet.

'Would you buy me something to eat?' he asked.

'Maybe' I replied. 'But I'd like to hear the magic word first.'

'Huh?'

'There's a little word that helps people to get through life' I told him. 'It's please.'

'Oh. OK. Sorry. Please.'

His pale cheeks flushed a delicate pink as he spoke. He seemed embarrassed and almost apologetic. I suspected that Coop was generally a shy sort of guy. I hadn't picked up on this in the rough and tumble of the previous evening.

'What would you like?' I asked.

'Same as you if that's OK ... please.'

A few minutes later, as I watched Coop wolf down his food, I hit him with a few questions. Nothing too searching, but my curiosity is always rampant. I don't mind what people do as long as I know all about it. I'd have made a good spy.

'How old are you, Coop?'

'Nearly eighteen' he mumbled through a mouth full of fries.

I was a bit shocked but refused to let it show. I have always studiously avoided under-age boys, but that particular horse had already bolted. Unknowingly, I'd already had my wicked way with a juvenile dick. No point in crying over spilt cum.

'How near is nearly?' I asked.

His jaws paused momentarily. I studied him closely as he debated whether to lie about his age.

'I'll be sixteen next week' he admitted reluctantly. 'Big deal. Anyway, I'm old enough to look after myself.'

'And young enough to get me in a whole heap of trouble' I retorted.

Coop shrugged and returned to attacking his meal.

'Are you in school still? Or do you work?'

'I'm kind of in school but I don't go very often.'

'Why not?'

'What's the point? There are no jobs for the likes of me. I only know a few people who work and they're all in shitty jobs that pay minimum wage. I'd rather hang out with the guys.'

This was quite a long speech for someone who was usually monosyllabic. It didn't emerge smoothly. Coop continued to eat as he spoke and he had no scruples about speaking with his mouth full.

'What about family?' I persisted. 'Don't they keep an eye on you? Do they know you skip school?'

'I don't have a family' he replied. 'I've been in and out of foster care all my life. And if you think the welfare people keep an eye on me then you're nuts. If I stay off their radar, they stay off my back.'

'So, Coop, what are your plans for today?'

'Same as any other day. Hook up with my buddies. Shoot some pool. Nothing much.'

'You know, Coop, I'm a bit surprised that you can't afford your own lunch. Didn't I pay you two hundred dollars last night? Didn't Vince give you your cut?'

Again, he flushed pink.

'I gave it all to my foster mother. The utility bills needed paying.'

'That was a nice thing to do' I commented. 'She must have been curious about how you came by so much money.'

'She was. I told her I'd done a few odd jobs at a building site.'

'And she believed you?'

'Probably not, but she wasn't about to make a Federal case out of it. Not with cash in her hand.'

I asked Coop if he'd like some coffee. He nodded assent and while we waited for it to arrive my mind raced through various possibilities.

'Would you like to earn some more money?' I asked him. 'Regularly.'

He looked at me suspiciously. I got a sense that he thought I was teasing him. Either that, or he was worried that sex would raise its ugly head.

I imagined he was a bit bothered by the events of the night before. I suspect he felt his masculinity was about to be challenged. So I chose my words carefully.

'Coop; there was nothing gay about what you did last night. You fucked a hole in return for money. It was business, that's all.'

'I already know I'm not a queer' he retorted, but he coloured as he spoke and I sensed that he wasn't as sure of his sexuality as he pretended.

'Fair enough' I said, almost whispering. 'But I have to say I enjoyed sucking your cock last night, and having you fuck me too. You have a beautiful dick, Coop. You must already know that. I bet all the girls want to go with you.'

He glanced all around us. He obviously feared anyone overhearing me.

'Don't talk like that. These people all know me. They know I'm no fag.'

'And do all the girls want to go with you?' I whispered. 'Are they all mad to have your dick inside them? Do you have to fight them off?'

'I'm choosy' he replied. 'I have standards. I don't usually fuck cheap molls.'

'Are you too choosy to come back to my place now? I'd like to have you and your dick all to myself.'

He hesitated. I could see he was tempted. After all, he'd already confessed that he had nothing better to do with his day.

'I'll pay you' I offered.

'How much?'

'More than minimum wage I assure you. What do you think is a fair rate?'

'What do I have to do?'

'Just be naked and let me suck your dick. Maybe fuck me as well.'

'Another two hundred?' he suggested.

'Deal' I replied. 'Let's go.'

He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. He looked gloriously unkempt. He also looked incredibly young. I could smell his body odour as we walked to where I'd parked.

There's a certain distinctive smell that envelops most teenage boys. It's a mixture of stale socks and sweat and raging testosterone. I love it.

We were quiet on the drive to my place. Coop was no great conversationalist. What teenage boy is?

I occasionally glanced at him as I drove. In profile he was far handsomer than I remembered. He could be highly presentable if someone took the trouble to tidy him up.

To a degree, he reminded me of Andy - my long-lost lover - but he lacked Andy's impact; he'd yet to develop a personality and he didn't radiate good health or any degree of self-respect.

To be fair, he was still a teenager. Andrew Tait was already in his mid-twenties when I first met him. Coop was still very much a work in progress.

I don't know why my thinking ran along these lines. Surely I wasn't already imagining Coop as being my latter-day Andy. Or was I? Hard to be certain.

What I do know for sure is that I had a sudden hankering to have Coop become a fixture in my life. If it was to be on a purely financial basis, then that would be fine by me. If not, well, maybe he might rescue me from the mid-life crisis that had recently taken hold.

His age presented certain difficulties but I was feeling hot and horny. I refuse to deal with my conscience when I'm horny.

A few minutes from home, I reached across and started fondling Coop's basket with my right hand.

He made no objection. Indeed, he spread his thighs wider apart to enable easier access. He was hard within seconds.

I was filled with joyous anticipation. The day was turning out well. I was glad I hadn't jerked off in the shower or allowed some old dude to blow me in a men's room.

Given my druthers, I infinitely prefer to drive a manual. But there is at least one advantage to driving an automatic. It affords far more scope for my right hand to wander.

By the time I parked up outside the house, my hand was inside Coop's pants and my thumb was sliding through the pre-cum that seeped from the eye of his dick. I reluctantly took my hand away.

'Let's do it' I said and prepared to get out of the vehicle.

'Hang on' protested Coop. 'I want the money up-front.'

'And?' I prompted.

'Please' he muttered.

'Fine' I said.

I removed the wallet from my back pocket and handed over enough tens and twenties to cover Coop's two hundred dollar "fee".

'Now can we do it?' I asked.

'You didn't say please' he commented with a smile. But he got out of the car anyway.

I led the way to my back porch and we entered directly into the kitchen. I went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. I offered one to Coop.

'I know you're not old enough to drink' I commented, 'but nor are you old enough to do any of the other things I have in mind. Here's hoping you can keep a secret.'

As we sat at the kitchen table, a sudden surge of tenderness swept over me. I no longer wanted this to be a purely business transaction. I no longer craved anything rough and animalistic.

'Would you be terribly offended if I suggested you take a shower?' I asked.

'Nope. In fact I'd like a shower. We've had no hot water since they turned the power off. I was thinking of using the showers at the Y but they ask awkward questions there - like why aren't I in school. Plus, the place is swarming with queers.'

We finished our beers and I reacquainted Coop with the shower where he'd pissed on me the night before.

'There's soap, shampoo and conditioner in the shower and there's deodorant on the vanity when you've finished. I'll rustle up a clean toothbrush for you as well.'

I lingered long enough to see Coop disrobe completely. Yet again, I was mesmerised by the sight of his hefty uncut cock. It was hard to resist the temptation to fall on him there and then, but I'd had enough of rank odours. I was hankering for a sweet-scented coupling; a bit of tenderness.

I left him in a steam-filled bathroom and went in search of some clothes for him to wear.

Even though it had been years since Andy had shared my life and my house, I still had some clothes he'd left behind in his haste. He and Coop were of similar height. Andy's jeans and T-shirts would be too large for Coop's slender frame but I figured they'd be better than nothing.

Coop was a bit puzzled when I returned with an armful of clothes.

'I thought you wanted me naked' he said.

'I do. These are for later. I'll put your own stuff in the washing machine and get them back to you.'

He inspected a quality pair of Lee Cooper jeans and a Tommy Hilfiger top and grunted approvingly. He seemed less approving of the briefs - I think he was a trunks or shorts kind of boy - but it was time to head for the bedroom.

Coop tensed up when he saw the bed. I think he'd been expecting the same down and dirty routine that had satisfied me the night before. Maybe he thought fucking a guy over a chair was less gay than doing it between silk sheets on a comfortable bed.

'Relax' I crooned. 'Just relax. It's all good.'

I was still fully dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed and took his cock in my mouth. He was no longer hard but his dick soon sprang to life as my insistent tongue and lips drew him into a world of warmth and wetness.

I caressed his balls as I gently deep throated him. I hadn't truly appreciated his hangers the night before. They were not world class, but they were satisfactorily low-slung and hefty; certainly impressive enough for a lad rising sixteen.

I eased him on to the bed and he lay there while I hastily removed my own clothes.

'How come you're circumcised?' he asked.

'I'm Jewish' I told him.

It turned out that, although he'd heard the others call me Jew-boy the previous evening, he had no clue what Jewishness meant and that ritual genital mutilation was part of the deal.

I joined him in the bed and immediately turned my attention to his junk. I really wanted to hold him in my arms for a while first, maybe even kiss a little, but I knew this would alarm him. I knew I must avoid anything he might consider gay.

His highly selective take on guy-stuff was that sex was a mere transaction. Anything outré like cuddling and kissing would make him feel like the faggots he'd been taught to despise.

It's astonishing how quickly a teenager can shoot his load. As I chowed down on his delectable cock, I soon realised that Coop was approaching his finish line. His breathing grew ragged and he began to thrust at me urgently.

He was so intent on finishing that he didn't seem to mind it when my hands roamed over his smooth ass-cheeks, his hips and his chest. I tweaked his nipples. They were instantly proud and erect.

When the rush finally came, I eased back so not much more than the head of Coop's dick was in my mouth. I was rewarded by the spatter of cum against my palate. I swallowed greedily as wave after wave of his youthful jizz gushed outwards.

The taste and texture were heavenly. And the sheer volume was amazing. The boy had a generous cock in every sense of the word.

The immediate aftermath was awkward. There was no afterglow. Once he'd finished shuddering and gasping, I sensed that Coop wanted to flee the scene.

He moved to lie as far away from me as possible. He looked tense and anxious. I thought it best to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

'Hungry?' I asked. Teenage boys are always hungry.

'Uh-huh.'

I threw on a bathrobe and told him to get dressed and join me in the kitchen. He arrived - in Andy's old cast-offs - just as I was pouring coffee.

The clothes didn't fit well but they looked infinitely better than what he'd been wearing before.

With amusement, I noticed that he wore the jeans at his hips. The waistband of the briefs was on show. I know this is all the rage amongst younger guys but it's not a look I admire. In my opinion it looks plain silly, but I made no comment.

He took a chair and I asked what he'd like to eat.

'Anything' he said. 'A sandwich. Toast. Whatever.'

'How about pizza?'

He grunted assent and I put some left-over pizza in the microwave.

Soon he was ripping into the food like a ravenous wolf. Remembering how bony his body was, I wondered where the hell all the food went. He was probably the skinniest guy I'd ever been with.

At one stage he paused, glanced at my face and muttered an apology.

'Sorry about your black eye.'

'No matter' I assured him. 'I think it was Vince who caused it. I don't mind. I like being roughed up occasionally.'

'Freaky. You must be nuts.'

'I probably am' I said. 'And not just because I enjoyed last night. It's even crazier that I'm here with an underage boy.'

'I'm no one's boy' he growled. 'I'm as much a man as you are. Maybe more of a man - I can look after myself in a fistfight.'

I sighed. Hard to remember a time when I considered myself all grown up at fifteen or sixteen. When I was fifteen, I was still very much my parent's child.

I'd already discovered sex with guys, having jerked off with some other boys at school and visited some shady men's restrooms, but I was generally compliant with household rules.

It would never have occurred to me to skip school and hang out in pool rooms or some old dude's bed.

Once the pizza was gone, Coop suggested it was time he headed home.

'It's only three o'clock' I said. 'What time does your mom get back from work?'

'Late. She's does twelve-hour shifts.'

'So why not hang out with me for a while? We could go shopping.'

I could see that this was not an exciting prospect. Teenage boys are not big on shopping.

'Not grocery shopping' I explained. 'Maybe we could get you some new threads and gym shoes. Even get you a haircut.'

He looked underwhelmed.

'Maybe another burger' I added. 'And some fries.'

That did the trick.

Instead of heading back to the big city, I drove inland to a nearby town that has a decent mall. I managed to hold my tongue as Coop rummaged through the menswear department at Wal-Mart.

He picked out a hideous pair of jeans and a drab hoodie. I suggested he grab a few T-shirts. He did, but they were hideous too. It beats me why anyone would want to wear shirts covered in death-heads and skeletons and apes. I was secretly longing to see Coop in jeans that accentuated his basket and a nice blue shirt that complimented his fairness.

We left carrying several bags. As well as the jeans and tops, we'd purchased a pair of gym shoes - with nasty fluoro-yellow embellishments - and some underwear and socks. Although he protested that he only wore boxers, I threw in some briefs as well.

'You don't have to wear this stuff back home' I told him. 'Leave the briefs at my place and wear them for me when you visit.'

This was the first real hint I'd given of anything ongoing between us. He made no comment. But he didn't object either. I took this as a positive.

When I mentioned food again, Coop said he liked Mexican. So that's what we had. I wasn't hungry myself, but I enjoyed watching the lad eat. His table manners were non-existent but I figured the more I fuelled his body then the more energy he'd have to perform penile magic.

He balked when I suggested a haircut.

'No way. I don't need a haircut.'

'That's a matter of opinion' I replied. But I let it lie.

After all, the kid had to face his buddies later. I knew that looking clean and tidy would make him the odd man out. They might wonder at the transformation and ask awkward questions. As it was, his foster mother would certainly want to know where the new jeans and shoes came from.

I was swimming in murky waters. I'd noticed people gazing at us speculatively at the mall. No way could they think Coop was my son - that white-blond hair and those blue eyes could never have sprung from my brown-haired, dark-eyed DNA.

My mind raced through all sorts of possibilities in case explanations were needed in the future. Assuming, of course, that there'd be any future.

When we got back to my place, I threw Coop's filthy clothes into the washing machine. I couldn't help but notice how badly stained his shorts were. I wondered if he knew about toilet tissue. Apparently not.

I also wondered if his foster mother ever nagged him about leaving out his dirty clothes for her to launder. Again, Apparently not.

Coop was knocking back a beer in the kitchen. He had the air of someone impatient to leave.

'How long before my clothes will be dry?' he asked.

'An hour or so' I said. 'I'll put them in the dryer once the spin cycle has finished.'

I sensed that he considered this an hour or so too long.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I decided to distract him for a while.

'Coop' I said 'would you please come over here for a minute.'

He rose and approached me reluctantly. I wanted to hold him close and kiss him passionately, but I knew this would be a bad move. Instead, I went to my knees and firmly massaged his thighs, allowing my fingers to nudge at his crotch.

I felt his dick stir beneath the heavy fabric. I undid the belt, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down his briefs. That beautiful uncut cock was at eye-level once more. It was nodding and flexing its way upwards.

I ignored it for a while as I slurped at his balls. They no longer smelled rank. They were redolent with the aroma of finely-scented soap. Each one felt magnificent in my mouth.

I moved on to lavish attention on the thick nine-inch weapon that was now almost vertical and parallel to Coop's abdomen.

His foreskin had retreated totally and a clear fluid was accumulating at the glans. I swept this away with my tongue before enveloping his shaft entirely. He didn't back away, but he didn't exactly push against me either.

I think he was reluctant to go another round. But a stiff dick almost always overrules a man's scruples. With his knob lodged firmly at the back of my throat, I felt the boy relax.

This time I was looking for more than just a mouthful of cum. I wanted this gigantic young dick in my ass. I wanted it to fuck me and flood my rectum with creamy warm jizz.

I lifted Coop's feet one at a time and removed his footwear and socks. I hauled his pants and jeans down to his ankles and he stepped out of them without protest.

Rising to my feet, I removed his top and flicked my tongue at his nipples. He flinched slightly at this - too gay perhaps? - but, again, he made no protest.

He allowed me to take him by the hand and I led him to the bedroom. I removed my own clothes and joined him in the bed. This time I drew him towards me and encircled him with my arms. He was tense but silent.

I hugged him tight, marvelling at how sharp his collar-bone was and how little flesh covered his ribcage. I wanted to kiss him but I knew, from the way his head was averted, that this would not be a good move.

Instead, I manoeuvred him onto his back and applied my mouth to his still-rampant and oozing cock. I took it as a good sign that he was still erect. The hug had not killed his desire to unleash another load.

After a while, and well before he gave any indication that he might ejaculate, I reached into the bedside cabinet, grabbed some lube and applied it to his dick.

Seated astride him, I slowly sank down on Coop's massive hardness and accommodated it fully. Coop's eyes were closed and his face wore an expression of resignation mixed with grudging delight.

I clenched hard around the cock deep inside me, squeezing and massaging it with all my might. A small sigh escaped his lips and I saw that Coop now wore a hint of a smile.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his mouth. To my surprise, his lips opened and he permitted a kiss.

I raised my head and checked. His eyes were now wide open. And they were not alarmed or indignant. They seemed trusting and content.

I began to move up and down, allowing his dick to slide freely inside me. Again I leaned forward and this time his tongue met mine.

It was a magnificent moment. I felt accepted. I felt desirable.

I'm no fool, however. I also felt certain that Coop would gladly have kissed anyone who could produce the kind of magic I was performing on his demanding juvenile cock. And I didn't lose sight of reality. I knew I was still just a guy in his forties who was paying for sex.

I lifted myself off Coop and implored him to fuck me more vigorously. He moved to fuck me face-down.

'No' I said. 'I want to see your face while you're fucking me.'

He obviously had no experience to guide him. I guess every girl he'd fucked had been in the missionary position. So I taught him how to kneel between my thighs and take my legs on his shoulders. I didn't need to teach him much after that.

Once he found my entrance he was away like a bull at a gate and I was treated to a rhythmic and pounding fuck. His balls slapped against my flesh. His dick whooshed its way through my ass. The pace was frantic - and entirely delightful.

I flailed away at my own cock once I could tell Coop was close to blowing. His eyes were closed once more and he had a look of intense concentration as he heeded the approaching storm.

I shot my load just as I felt the first spasm of his shaft deep within me. He threw his head back and wailed as he bucked and shuddered and heaved. He seemed to be ejaculating forever. I gleefully envisaged the torrent of cum that must be flooding my rectum.

Once he'd finished shooting, Coop did not immediately draw away as I'd expected. He stayed inside me. His eyes opened and he smiled at me.

'Awesome' he said. 'Best fuck I've ever had.'

'Yes - Awesome' I agreed.

And then I lied.

'Best fuck I've ever had too.'

There was a degree of truth in it. It was certainly the youngest fuck I'd ever had and he was certainly the most unexpected provider. I'd enjoyed every moment.

But the reality is that, once you've been regularly treated to the massive eleven-inch dick of my ex - Andy Tait - well, no one else will ever feel as good. But Coop had come close to eclipsing Andy. Joyously close.

Even as Coop's erection receded, I still had a remarkably large piece of man-flesh inside me. More in hope than expectancy, I began to squeeze and clamp on it. Such is the resilience of youth that I soon detected that piece of man-flesh swelling larger once more.

It wasn't long before his dick was whooshing in and out of me again. This time it took longer. Time enough for me to get hard again myself.

It was as though the years had fallen away, I couldn't recall the last time I'd been so quick to recover. This was a real red-letter day for Martin Solomon.

Once he'd shot a second load of jizz deep inside me, Coop had no objection to remaining in position while I flogged my own cock.

I was astonished when my load finally burst forth. I'd had more than my fair share of stimulation of late - so the cum fairly blasted its way into the air.

It reached my face and chest. It even splattered on Coop as well. He didn't seem appalled. In fact, he laughed and repeated his mantra.

'Awesome' he said.

And it was. Even more awesome was the fact that he gently leaned forward and kissed me. Not a passionate kiss, but no mere peck on the lips either. I was intoxicated.

We parted. I was a sticky mess and so was Coop. We showered together.

He volunteered that he'd never showered twice in one day before. Privately, I doubted that he usually showered more than once a month, but he seemed to be enjoying the novelty of it.

I guess one's teens are a tricky age period. One moment you're intent on being manly, the next you're unconsciously behaving like a child on a carousel or a trip to the beach.

Once he was dressed in his own clothes - fresh and warm from the dryer - Coop and I sat at the kitchen table again. We both knew it was time to hit the road, but he was suddenly in the mood to talk.

Maybe this sudden introduction to gentle guy-on-guy sex had loosened his tongue. Maybe it was a novelty for him to encounter someone who actually wanted to listen to him.

'How does it feel?' he asked.

'How does what feel?'

'You know. Having a dick up your ass. How does it feel? Does it hurt?'

'Coop, I reckon it would be as painful as hell if I didn't desperately want a dick up my ass. Yes it can hurt a bit at first, but if you're really into it, then it becomes the most fantastic feeling in the world. There are women who enjoy anal sex, you know. They wouldn't be doing that if it didn't feel good.'

He digested this information thoughtfully.

'Does it affect how you shit?' he asked. 'Like, does your asshole become all loose and sloppy?'

'Doesn't affect my shitter at all' I assured him. 'Did it feel all loose and sloppy to you?'

'No, dude. It felt tight. Tighter than most girl's pussies. There's one moll I've screwed a few times - Angela de Costa - and it's like fucking a tunnel. She's been around the block a few times though. I think every guy I know has screwed Angela. She's always up for it.'

'Is she pretty?'

'Shit, no. She's got a face like a mule. But she's available. That's what matters most. Most girls act like a fuck means you're engaged to be married. Angela just moves on to the next guy. No strings. No clingy stuff.'

'Have you ever done anything with a guy before, Coop?'

'Not really.'

'What does that mean? Either you have or you haven't.'

'Jeez' he said. 'What's with the interrogation? If you must know, I've let a few guys blow me or jerk me off, but only for the money. It doesn't count. It's not sex. It's business. And the kids at school like to watch me jerk off because I'm hung better than most.

Angela likes my dick too. She says it's the biggest she's ever had. Her muff's so slack I'm surprised she can tell the difference.'

I laughed at this. The kid had a sense of humour. I was amazed.

'So how did you come to hitch up with Vince and the other guys? They're all quite a bit older than you are.'

'I'm not hitched up with them' he said. 'I hardly know them. They sometimes help out by getting beer or cigarettes for me if I've got the money. I need to get myself a fake ID one of these days.'

'So, last night happened how?' I persisted. 'How come you were one of the group?'

'I was hanging out, playing pool. Vince comes in and starts whispering to guys. I hear them laughing and joking about something. He spots me and comes over. Says he's found a rich faggot who wants to be roughed up by a few guys. Says there's good money in it. Says the dude wants at least five guys to mess with him. So I said he could count me in.'

'What did you think messing about might involve?'

'Vince said the guy would want to blow us, that's all. And maybe he'd want to be slapped around a bit.'

'No mention of fucking?' I asked.

'Nope. I wouldn't have agreed if he'd mentioned that?'

'Why?'

'Well, fucking's different' he explained. 'Most guys I know will let a fag blow them for a few bucks. It's not gay. Like I said, It's just business. But screwing's a whole different ball-game.'

'But you joined in last night' I commented. 'What happened there?'

He blushed slightly.

'I figured if the other guys were screwing you then it must be OK. It must be like business. Just stuff you do for money.'

'And today' I continued. 'Is this just business still?'

'I'm not sure' he admitted. 'I guess it's business but I have to admit I liked it. I like the way you give head. You really know what you're doing, man.'

'And the fucking?'

'Doesn't seem right when I think about it. Like I know it's wrong. I know I'm not a fag. But it felt good. Real tight. I'm getting hard again just thinking about it. And that's wrong.'

'Coop, you're a good kid. I like you. And you have a fantastic cock. I love having it in my mouth and up my ass. It doesn't make you gay. You can think of it as just business if you like. I don't care what you call it as long as it continues.'

He thought some more before replying.

'Well, I wouldn't mind doing it again some time. But don't ever tell anyone, Marty. I don't want it spread around that I'm a faggot.'

'That's fine by me, Coop. I don't want it getting around that I'm fooling with jail-bait. By the way, are you really getting hard again?'

He stood up. His cock jutted outwards under its cover of denim. It seemed a good idea to take care of it before we hit the road.

Afterwards, with the taste of his juices on my tongue, I drove Coop back to the city. We stopped briefly at a convenience store and I bought him a cheap cell phone with some credit on the clock. I entered my number into its memory and told him to call me if he wanted another day's "work" at my place.

I dropped him off some distance from his home. He didn't want to be seen by anyone he knew.

I watched fondly as he walked away, wondering why today's youth has to walk with such a strange rolling swagger.

I knew I was courting disaster with this kid. I could almost hear the clang of a cell door in some dreadful prison facility. But this didn't deter me from dreaming about next time.

I drove home with Coop's juices inside me and a song in my heart.

I felt almost human once more.

 

Andrew Tait

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