A Monday Milking

My pal Curt and I had awakened from our overnighter to a good morning wrestling match in our underwear - nothing serious, just fun and games as usual. He eventually found himself laying on top of me with his back against my chest, at which time he threw back the arms in a show of surrender.

Using my best Nazi accent, I threatened him. 'Now, Mr. Nolan, we have given you every opportunity to speak. This is your last chance. Do not force us to torture you.'

He immediately recognized the play and, quoting a line directly from the movie we had watched the night before, he growled in a masculine voice, 'Get on with it.'

Returning to my normal English, I told him what to do. 'Curt, let me out from under you. I've got an idea.'

I let go his arms and he rolled off me to stand at bedside. We both immediately looked at each others' raging hard-ons, then laughed.

'You want me to strip, Greg?'

'No. I'll take care of that soon enough.'

I took the two pillows and stacked them in the upper center of the mattress about where my chest had been, then pointed. 'Stretch out over those.'

Curt draped himself over the pillows chest up and spread his arms and legs into an X, while I stalked around the bed to take in the view.

'Are you comfortable?'

The view from above was much better for me. Curt's chiseled chest rose majestically into the air, while the stomach and belly sloped dramatically downward from the end of the rib cage. A well-defined ridge of muscle began in the middle of his stomach and led to the stretched navel, where a fine trail of dark fur began its journey to the pubic hairs. Those I could not see yet.

'Yeah Greg, I'm good.'

'I'm gonna play Nazi again. If you want me to stop, just say hornet's nest' and I'll be me again.'

This is what everybody called our gymnasium, something he could remember.

'Say it, so I know you got it.'

'Ok, damn it, hornet's nest.'

Reaching the foot of the bed, I grabbed both ankles and stretched his legs taut, pausing to lightly caress the soles of his feet. They were perfectly masculine with high, strong arches and thick, meaty toes. Here, dark brown hairs sprouted on most of them, while a healthy growth had also begun on each instep.

From this angle, I knew where I had to begin that gloriously stretched belly just had to be punished, because long ago I'd figured out this was a triggering point for him. Ever since I'd known him, he was always rubbing on it with his hand during casual conversations and when he wasn't shirtless in the summertime, he usually wore shortened t-shirts that exposed some or all of it.

Besides that, any time I had tried to give him a claw during one of our many fake wrestling matches or simply give him a pink belly for no reason, he would always protest about how he hated when someone touched his belly. This to me meant he secretly wanted to be touched there in a meaningful way.

I went to the closet and retrieved my Louisville Slugger, then again I became Greg the Nazi.

'Now, Mr. Nolan, why were you sent here? What is your mission?'

He looked up over his chest to see me holding the baseball bat, then lowered his head with a mighty groan, 'I'll never tell you.'

With a controlled and harmless swing, I brought the head of the wooden bat down to make contact just below his navel. An explosion of rippling muscle rose to the surface, as he flexed the abdominals in a defensive posture. Another swing with a little more force landed into the pit of his stomach, causing Curt to strain his arms against the imaginary chains, expand his chest and emit a manly grunt.

Repeatedly bringing the bat down onto his middle section, I carefully regulated the power of my strokes to make minimal impact. The wood targeted every part of that gloriously stretched and flexed middle from just under the rib cage to just above the pelvic bone. Each time contact was made my victim would grunt or let out masculine 'uhhhs' to receive the punishment, while I kept a close eye on his briefs.

The rock solid pecker pointed straight down in its cotton prison, which pulled his waistband lower and lower to expose even more of the fur trail. The outlined crown of his unit was clearly visible, as a pre-orgasmic ooze had saturated the cloth pocket. Naturally, mine was doing the same thing.

He obviously was ready, but I figured we had all day and the longer I pretended to torment him the better would be the end result for both of us. Climbing up on the mattress to kneel beside his chest, I Nazi'd him some more.

'Why don't you talk, Mr. Nolan? How much more of this do you think you can take?'

He raised his head to glare at me. 'You'll never break me.'

'We will see.'

I moved to kneel next to his middle section, then took the handle end of the bat and placed it just below his navel. Slowly, I began to push it down and grind it into his belly, all the while continuing the interrogation.

'Talk, Nolan. What is your mission?'

Manly groans and grunts spewed from his mouth, while he flexed the chest and further tightened the abdominals.

Meanwhile, I increased the pressure, grinding and twisting the blunted end of the bat deeper and deeper. His poor cock was doing everything it could to escape those briefs and had grown to the point where his waistband now was pulled past the beginnings of pubic hair.

'Why were you sent here? Tell us now, damn you.'

'Never... I'll... never talk.'

With one final thrust, I ground the ball bat into him with some serious effort and I know it had to hurt, but Curt stayed with the game, groaning and grunting with each exhale of breath. Then, I removed the bat from him.

'Mr. Nolan, we have tortured you for nearly two hours. Why don't you talk?'

'Torture me all you want. You'll never break me.'

I placed one hand on his middle section and began to gently rub. 'You are a strong adversary, Mr. Nolan. We have beaten your belly to a pulp, yet you refuse to talk. I hate to tell you, but there are other ways to break a strong man like you.'

My hand drifted a little lower, then nudged the undershorts a bit further down to expose a full compliment of curly brown pubes and the base of his thick cock. He looked up over his chest, then collapsed with a heaving groan, 'Oh, god... not that.'

I clutched the throbbing penis still trapped in its fabric prison. 'Oh, god... YES that.'

Squeezing hard on his helpless unit, I shouted the order, 'Strip him.'

Off the bed I sprang to retrieve a pair of scissors from the desk, then carefully slipped one blade between his inner thigh and stretched undershorts. Curt flinched a bit from the touch of cold metal, but never looked up or protested, other than to remain in character with a pitiful pleading.

'What are you doing to me, you sick bastard?'

I cut the fabric and released the imprisoned penis. It sprang upwards and cast the ruined underwear aside, flipping onto his belly with a dramatic smack. The sight of this organ was a stunning surprise, because it was almost as though I was looking into a mirror. Curt's peter was nearly like my own same thickness and length, same cut, same size and color of crowned head. Having wished many times that I could suck my own cock, my mouth watered when I saw his.

I yanked what was left of his shorts from underneath him and threw them to the floor, then slowly paraded around the bed to further ready him.

'Look at yourself, Mr. Nolan. Stripped of everything, chained and helpless, your entire body is at our mercy.'

I took in the view from the side. His mighty chest rose high into the air, while the middle section dropped like a cliff. To further dramatize the scene, my prisoner pretended to struggle against his chains by arching his back, breathing deeply to further expand the chest and heroically sucking in the stomach with each exhale. The impressive penis lay throbbing with the slit resting on the lower ridge of his belly button, where pre-cum dribbled into the depths of the navel itself.

I moved to the end of the bed. 'Think you are quite the man, don't you Mr. Nolan?'

I climbed up to kneel between his spread open thighs. 'We will see how much man you are. We will drain you again and again, until you beg us to stop.'

Hearing these words caused his scrotum to clinch, which forced his penis to raise an inch into the air and stand at attention for a few seconds before slamming back down. As I grabbed the base of his cock and encircled it with two fingers and thumb, he raised his head with eyes glazed, halfway smiled and tempted me to begin, 'Do your worst, you Nazi swine.'

I brought his pulsating pole to a vertical stance and wrapped my lips around the mushroom head. Inch by inch, I took the massive meat deeper into my mouth, making sure to keep my tongue scraping the underside of the crown. His writhing and groaning intensified, as I slowly worked my lips towards the manually-formed ring. Once the goal was reached, I removed my fingers and thumb. From here, I would subdue this mighty tool strictly with lips and tongue.

This left both hands free to fulfill my longtime ambition to do to him what he professed to hate. Using my palms, I planted them onto his middle section and began to rub, while reversing direction with lips and tongue to glide up the long pole.

Instantly, Curt reacted to this. He flexed his chest and flattened the middle, then raised his head to watch me work him over. 'Uhhh... not my belly.'

He collapsed his head and continued to writhe and flex. In my peripheral vision I could tell he was bending back the toes and arching his manly feet. My belly rub pressed down harder and harder. As for the manly tool in my mouth, I nearly swallowed the bulging head, stopped to lick and scrape, then began a rhythmic stroking from the base to the top.

Quickly and without warning, I removed my hands from the stomach and reached back to attack his feet. My nails ruthlessly scraped the soles, causing his entire body to shudder. He curled the toes forward to defend himself. Now focused on his feet, he was totally unprepared when I brought both hands down full bore onto his belly and dug my fingertips in deep. A mighty surge rippled through the entire length of his cock, as he again flexed the abdominals to receive my punishing double claw.

This combination was driving the boy mad, so I increased the pressure on the middle section and intensified my oral strokes.

The eyes were closed and head turning side to side, as deep, breathy groans drifted upwards from the bed. Then, the writhing stopped and his entire body tensed. Every muscle flexed to capacity and with a tortured 'Oh, my god,' he gave his semen to me not in an explosive way, but more like the foam that spews from a shaken bottle of beer.

Creamy streams gently flowed into my mouth and down the hatch, as I relentlessly continued the oral strokes and devastating double belly claw.

Curt violently exhaled and arched his back, lifting himself well above the double-stacked pillows. His head was turning side to side and toes curling forward and back. Every muscle was flexed to capacity, while those amazing testicles gave healthy doses of their seed to me. Then, he brought his hands to the chest and rubbed the palms over the tips of his erect nipples, all the while continuing to moan about 'my poor belly... oh, my god.'

I kept stroking and clutching, until finally he collapsed back to the pillows and resumed his stretched X position. Unfazed, I continued to knead the abdominals, while slurping and scraping his spent penis. He was mercilessly drained of his fluids and soon was flinching from the sensation of post orgasm pain and pleasure.

I kept waiting for him to say those end the fantasy' words, but he continued saying those belly' phrases, which indicated to me he was happy to be where he was. So, I licked his peter clean, released my double claw and returned the fading unit to my hand before laying it gently to rest on his fur trail.

Curt had fired his first salvo, yet he stayed in the torture rack position as though the game should continue. Since I was still hornier than I'd ever been before, I was more than happy to remain a Nazi.

Part Two - Silly Voices

This big event was the culmination of several weeks' worth of buildup. Curt and I had been introduced by a mutual friend, who just happened to have one of the finest in town, half-court set ups for basketball a fella could ever need. The concrete slab was near the garage at his house. One day I dropped by unannounced to see my friend playing a game of 'h-o-r-s-e-o-u-t' with this stranger and I liked what I saw, so I introduced myself.

'Hey, Johnnie. What's goin' on?'

'Hi. Just playin' a little b-ball with Curt here.'

'Hi Curt, I'm Greg. Who's winning?'

'It ain't even close. One more letter and he's history.'

He dribbled the ball a couple of times, turned to shoot and banked it in off the backboard. Curt had on blue cotton gym shorts, white socks and black Nike high tops. The shirt he had worn was laying in the nearby grass. His shorts were worn low on the waist, which fully displayed that area I instantly fell in love with.

'Well, Curt, when you finish him off we'll have a three-way.'

Johnnie tried to duplicate the shot, but missed. 'Lost again. You two go ahead. I need a break.'

He promptly went into the house jealous maybe. Actually, Johnnie wasn't much of an athlete, even though his dad wanted him to be. He just never took any interest and always welcomed an excuse to do something else. Besides, I liked him for other reasons, one of which was being perceptive enough to suspect what I was up to.

'Wanna horse or one on one, Greg?'

'You call it. It's your court now.'

'How bout a one-pointer to 10?'

'No. I prefer a two-pointer to 20.'

'It's the same damn thing.'

I was already laughing, so he knew I was full of crap.

'You asshole.' He acknowledged my joke with a smile.

'Ok, Curt, one-pointer, take it in.'

It was mostly casual at first. I had a respectable game and answered every shot he made, but my main focus was to have my hand on him when he went up for a jump shot. Slick with sweat, Curt's chest and hard stomach felt good under my fingertips as he raised up to fire. It soon became apparent that I was better than he and I kindly let him win the first game. As my reward, he began to belittle and razz me about his superiority, so I upped the intensity to easily win the second and third games, which caused him to thoroughly lather his body with exerted sweat, plus, it seemed to piss him off a little.

'You lucky piece of shit. God, I can't shoot today for nothing.'

'So, you're saying I ain't any good. It's all about you.'

He cracked a smile, 'Nah, you're pretty good. I just usually do better.'

That's when I first noticed that he kept rubbing his belly as we talked. I figured I'd like to have a go at it too, so I set us up for some intimate contact.

'Maybe you'd do better at wrestling. How bout that?'

'You're on.'

We headed over for the grass and got into a clinch, then I let him put me into a headlock. As a counter-measure, I formed a claw with my hand and ground it into the perimeter of muscle around his navel.

'God damn, I hate that. Let go.'

'Let me outta the headlock.'

'No way.'

'Then suffer.'

So, the shit was on. We both kept our holds clamped firm and I enjoyed having my face buried into his sweaty chest, although my head was throbbing a bit.

With one hand on the small of his back and the other digging into his belly, the pressure on him was rather intense. This is when I noticed the boner he had in his shorts. I knew right then and there we would be great friends.

Over the next couple of weeks there were several get-togethers either at his house or mine. We got to know each other pretty good and found some mutual interests, but every hook up would culminate into a wrestling match with the same result two hard-ons.

Funny thing is that he asked me to sleep over with him before I asked him to sleep over with me. He picked a Friday night, which was not good, because his whole family would be home the next day, but a few interesting things did happen when it was time for lights out.

We were in his bed, laying on our backs and quietly talking the usual nonsense in the darkness, when he asked me if I liked to have my back scratched. I said, 'Sure,' and I immediately rolled onto my stomach. He peeled back the covers and went to work with his nails lightly caressing me. Then, he began to use his fingers and turned it into a full-blown body massage. Again we were in our briefs, but I could feel his hard dick under the fabric each time it accidently touched me somewhere. Mine was rock solid, too, crushed under my belly.

It was during this massage that he first used a silly, high-pitched and effeminate voice...

'G r e g o r y, you are so handsome. I just love to touch you all over.'

After a moment of contemplation, I replied in the same style.

'C u r t i s, I just love when you put your big strong hands all over me.'

This was a good scenario. Using these voices made it ok for us to pretend to be queer, which meant we could touch without offending. It put us both at ease with what we were feeling and doing for one another.

That night ended with me returning the massage favor to him, then we pulled up the covers, pulled down our briefs and simultaneously jacked ourselves off. I thought about asking if he wanted me to assist him with the beating of his meat, but decided he would have to ask me first, which is exactly what he did.

'G r e g o r y, if you help me down there, I'll help you.'

'Oh, C u r t i s, let's help each other at the same time, ok?'

I buried my head under the covers and worked my way around so my head was at his feet, then I put my right hand on his dick and he put his on mine. With us both laying on our backs, he managed to shoot his load first, which allowed me to get my right hand massaging one of his feet. Soon afterwards, I expelled my load.

After the Kleenex cleanup, we put our shorts back on and fell asleep never touching each other again, until morning when I was awakened by him putting me in his famous headlock.

The wrestling match was on and we both had erections. He saw mine stretching my briefs and I saw his. We both stopped, looked at each other, smiled and continued the match. His bedroom was in the basement and beyond the door we heard his little brother turn on the TV for Saturday morning cartoons, so we couldn't take our game much further.

On the other hand, I had planned our sleep over at my place far better a Sunday night. Next morning the house was ours, with both my mom and dad at work and sister having spent the night with one of her friends.

We had repeated the same routine in my bed the night before and again woke up to a wrestling match. Our grappling had taken us from my bed to the floor and back to the bed, when somehow Curt ended up on top of me with his back pressed against my chest. All of a sudden, he threw his arms past the head and relaxed his body, while lovingly calling my name. The silly voice told me we were ready to take another step forward.

Here I had to make a very important decision: I could attack his vulnerable body violently, which would trigger resumption of the increasingly erotic wrestling match; or I could attack him with a soft caress, which would trigger something more exciting. I chose number two.

'Oh, C u r t i s, you are so big and strong.' Both my palms made circles on his expanded chest and I made sure to create a little friction across the tops of his stretched nipples.

'Oh, G r e g o r y, you make me feel so manly.'

I gently slid my hands down onto his flattened stomach, then belly. He flinched a little, but soon his body again relaxed and he allowed me to put my hands all over him from chest to pelvic bone. I could sense him becoming more aroused, as he began to thrust his chest upwards and further stretch himself. He seemed to be surrendering himself, practically begging for me to do something dramatic.

The problem is that I couldn't see what I was touching. I was smothered underneath with the back of his head near my chin, causing me to turn my head to one side. This of course limited what I could do to please him.

Now, when one fella is testing the waters with another fella, sometimes there's no way to plan or think out what's going to happen. All I knew is that I had to keep him in this position, but figure out a way for me to gain full access to him in this position. A movie we had watched the night before flashed through my brain and that's how I solved it.

Those damned Nazis had tortured this poor British guy and I'd noticed a bit of a bulge in my pal's jean shorts, so I brought my legs up over his to pin his feet, then grabbed his biceps and pulled them down to further stretch him. This is when I became a Nazi for the first time, which culminated into orgasm number one.

Despite the fact that I had just drained his nuts. Curt remained stretched out over the two pillows, ready for more. Things were just starting to heat up.

'Did you think we were finished with you, Mr. Nolan? No, my friend, we have only begun. Let us see you perform for us. You will answer our questions soon.'

I knelt beside his chest, then reached down with both hands and rubbed the palms across his nipples.

'What are these for? So exposed and defenseless, I think we will play with them awhile to see how you feel about it.'

Curtis had the type of tits that were barely visible when he stood upright, because they were parked under well-developed pectoral muscles, but with him draped over the pillows and arms laying beyond the head, his nipples were magnificently stretched and available. As I stimulated them, the tips began to rise high into the air. To my amazement, it seemed that the entire surface of each was becoming a tip, until they extended nearly one half of an inch above his chest. Meanwhile, his slumbering penis instantly reacted to my touch, soon again ballooning to reach for the belly button.

With the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, I lightly pinched and twisted the left tip. Then, I put my lips onto his right nipple and began sucking on it like a straw. In between, I'd remove my lips long enough to taunt him.

'What is this? One should not touch a man here. It is only for women. It is humiliating for a man to have his nipples abused this way.'

He raised his head to curse me, 'You sick fuck.'

I continued pinching and sucking, 'Look at these poor, defenseless nipples. Only you can stop your torment. You must talk.'

'Never. Nothing will break me.'

'Don't you feel shame? So helpless, so alone and all these eyes ogling over your masculine form. How does it feel to have your entire body stripped naked before us? Answer the questions. Why were you sent here?'

'You sadistic bastard.' He arched his back to thrust his nipples higher into the air, inviting me to further torment them. 'Do what you will. I'll never talk.'

His cock was bouncing up and down on his belly in a frenetic dance, as my nipple stimulation sent testosterone levels inside him sky high. My prisoner was feeling as though he were the manliest man in the world and in our fantasy world of Nazi torture he was exactly that. Raising the intensity, I released both nipples and positioned myself with both knees on top of his abdomen, then I resumed my attack on the erect tips, reversing to suck on the left and pinch the right.

He was taken to dizzying heights, now with my weight crushing his belly and the tantalizing nipple torture combining to drive him to ecstatic madness. Deep, husky groans and breathy uhhh's rumbled from the depths of his chest, while he kept the eyes closed and locked deep into the fantasy.

'You are very strong, Mr. Nolan. But your powerful muscles cannot help you now.'

I ruthlessly sucked on his left tip as though it were a baby bottle, while twisting and turning the right like a radio knob.

Between the calves of my legs, I could feel his helpless peter dancing out of control, smearing pre-cum syrup onto any surface it touched.

'We have taken from you everything that makes you a man. It belongs to us. Will you talk?'

'Never.'

'Very well... torture his penis!'

Suddenly, I leapt off him and knelt between his thighs. Within seconds, I had thrust his cock into my mouth and assigned each hand to work on the nipples, twisting and turning the elongated tips. Keeping his organ in my mouth and taking it with me, I lowered my forehead onto his stretched belly and pressed down hard, then began the baby bottle suck on his pulsating cock.

My lips were midway on the shaft of this impressive tool, while my tongue ruthlessly licked and scraped the underside of his glorious mushroom head. More and more pressure was put on the belly and nipples, as I intensified my three-pronged attack.

Again I saw him draw up the arms and thrust the chest high into the air. I felt the belly being sucked in, as he invited no, begged me to punish him. I had elevated him to the status of super-hero stripped naked, chained and ruthlessly assaulted. His masculinity was under attack and he gloriously displayed this manly physique to defy his tormentors. He further stretched his body and raised the chest to intensify his belly and nipple torture, while the pinnacle of his manhood the increasingly powerful cock was relentlessly brutalized by lips and tongue.

Strangely, he remained mostly silent during this ordeal. An occasional deep, breathy groan was all that I heard, as my victim drifted deep into his fantasy of being a chained superman, defiantly standing up to the sadistic humiliation and cruelty of his tormentors.

Again, the breathing stopped and muscles tensed to capacity, as another salvo of rich semen foamed into my mouth. His cock was a giant straw from which I sucked out the thick cum like it was malted milk hot, manly, sweet-tasting milk.

Curtis writhed and flexed in orgasmic heaven, while his thick fluid flowed gently from that throbbing tube. It was almost as though the first event had never taken place, but at that age testicles can make plenty of seed whenever their master calls.

As before, I continued extracting and stimulating as though nothing new had happened, fully satisfied to work him over until he stopped me. Eventually his body relaxed and chest heaved, but he remained positioned in his torture rack and allowed me to finish my job.

Occasionally, his body would convulse from the painful, yet pleasurable torment I put on the head of his penis, but not a word was said or defensive motion made until all of a sudden, he brought his hands to mine and coaxed me to release the nipples, sat up with a huge grin and took the game in a new direction.

'Look here, Nazi. I have broken my chains. Now it is your turn to suffer.'

As I released his cock from my mouth, he wrapped his legs around my waist and put me in a crushing body scissors. Then, he rolled to his left and took us both to the floor, where he proceeded to yank my underpants down to the knees.

'Get on your back, you Nazi bastard.'

I laid out spread eagle for him and he finished removing my shorts. Immediately, he took my hardened cock into his mouth and started giving me the baby bottle suck. I was overwhelmed by this unexpected outburst, but soon I closed my eyes and enjoyed his oral service to me. Whether he had done this before or was simply following my lead I do not know, but I do recall that he had me instantly mesmerized.

With burning visions of my tortured hero on the rack still fresh in memory, I began shooting wads of cum into his mouth in record time.

I gave him fair warning with a heavy groan and, 'Oh, man, here I come,' but Curt never flinched or choked. Rather, he drained me with the expertise of a seasoned pro. Of course, I didn't know what a seasoned pro felt like at the time, but it was the event the new discovery that ranks thins as one of my all time favorite orgasms.

After thoroughly satisfying me and licking the penis dry, he ended our game. 'Hornet's nest.'

Part Three - The 180 Degree Turn

We laughed and relived all that had just happened, then realized we both needed to piss. Simultaneous streams splattered into the toilet water, while we each admired one another's handsome peters.

'Damn, Curtis, I can't believe our cocks look like twins.'

'Yeah, who woulda guessed it?'

He finished first and grabbed some tissue to wipe off the droplets. I did the same and moved close to him. Cupping my dick in hand, I held it out horizontal and grabbed his. We maneuvered closer together and compared ourselves.

'Hah! Mine's longer.'

'No it ain't, Curtis. My slit's touching your pubes like yours is mine. They're exactly the same same width, too.'

'Yeah, you're right. Wonder who has the bigger hard-on.'

'We'll check it later. Guess I owe you a pair of underwear, huh?'

'Yes, Gregory, you do. Just give me an old crummy pair. It doesn't matter. What time is it, anyway?'

'Dunno. You hungry?'

'Big time.'

I got him a pair of shorts and checked the time to see it was 11:30. After I put on my underpants, we went to the kitchen and I made us bacon and eggs, while we talked about mundane subjects unrelated to recent events.

'When do your parents get home, Greg?'

'One at four thirty and one at five. My sister could come home sooner, but I doubt it. Her friend's mom usually takes them swimming all day when she stays over there.'

'I want your dick inside me.'

After I somehow avoided choking on a mouthful of eggs, I sat back and looked at him with amazement. 'What?'

'You know, in my crack.'

This was a bit of a bombshell and it took me awhile to recover. 'Wow, Curt, I don't know. Have you ever done it?'

'No, but there's only one way to find out what it's like. I figure your dick oughtta fit the bill.'

'I've never done it either. You sure I ain't too big? What if it hurts you?'

'Hell, if I don't like it I'll take it out. I kinda got it planned to where I can control it I think. I saw in Hustler where this chick was sitting on top of the guy. I think that might work.'

'Ok, I'll just lay there and let you do your thing.'

I never dreamed he'd want to go there. Frankly, at that time in my life I found the thought of it a bit disgusting, because I always imagined my dick coming out of someone's hole with shit all over it. Like Curtis, however, I figured there was only one way to find out.

We finished eating and cleaned up the mess, then headed to the bathroom for supplies. Having discovered my favorite masturbation lubricant to be baby oil, I kept a bottle of it in my bedroom. Other than that, I suspected we might need a towel or two, so I got some older hand sized ones and asked Curtis if he thought he'd need anything else. He seemed ready, so we returned to my bed and stripped.

It didn't take us long to get fired up again just a little kissing and hand rubbing on his chest and belly did it for me. My touch revved him up and we were all set.

After returning the pillows to their rightful spot at the head of the mattress, Curtis guided me to lie on my back. He opened the baby oil and lubricated my cock with his hand, then transferred what was left to his asshole. I laid there quietly with hands tucked behind my head and waited. He straddled me with knees on either side of my hips, grabbed the penis and held it vertical.

I felt my head make contact with his hairy ass, then the pressure as he slipped past the entry to his rectum. There was a squinting of his eyes and contortion of the mouth the initial reaction to this first-time invasion, but soon a mischievous smile consumed Curt's face, as he slowly accepted and lowered himself onto my hardened cock. Once he had slid himself halfway down, he let go with his hand and took me inside as deep as I could go. His buttocks rested on my pelvis and I felt the muscles inside him slowly relax.

'What's it like having me in there?'

'Feels like I gotta shit.'

'Does it hurt?'

'Not really. Just feels like I'm gonna explode a big turd.'

I cracked up, but tried not to jiggle too much.

'That's my turd in there. Looks like your dick's still hard, too.'

'Yeah. Wonder what that means?'

'Must mean you like it. You're in charge. I'm just here to be your tool.'

He raised up his buttocks a few inches, then slid them back to me. 'Hmm, that's kinda nice.'

'I agree.'

Feeling more relaxed and confident, he gradually began to ride up and down the thick pole. Using his legs to lift, Curt brought his ass a little higher each time, until the upward strokes put the rim of his anus in contact with the rim of my cock head.

This caused a contortion on both our faces not from pain, but from the newly found pleasures of intercourse. Just when we had a good rhythm going, he slammed his butt cheeks onto me and sat there, squeezing the muscled innards of his rectum.

I groaned with sheer delight, as my throbbing pecker got the life crushed out of it. Then, he wiped the oil off his hand and lifted off of me just a bit.

Without a word, Curt made an incrementally slow, 180 degree spin on my cock, carefully keeping me inside to lift one leg to the other side, then the other. Now he sat down facing away from me. Reaching down between his legs with one hand to hold me inside, he leaned back to lay with his back on my chest.

'You still in there, Greg?'

'Can't you tell? Of course I am.'

'Thought so. This is wild. I can't even describe how good this feels.'

He brought his arms back and draped both legs outside of mine. I could feel him writhing and arching his back, thrusting the chest high into the air as he lay on top of me. We had returned to the same position from where we had started, only this time my pulsating cock was buried deep inside him.

'Oh, man, this is too fucking hot. Your dick feels so damn good in there.'

He was squeezing the life out of my pecker and I relished every second of it. With my hands free, I figured it was time for me to become a bit more involved.

'Can you reach the oil, Curt?'

'Yeah.'

'Grease up your pecker.'

He grabbed the bottle with his right hand. After squirting some oil onto his cock, he closed and cast the bottle aside, then manually stroked himself.

Again the muscles inside him went bonkers, which further crushed my swollen tool.

'Don't jack it off yet. Dry your hand and put em both under my head if you can.'

He did as asked and I raised my head just enough. Curt reached up to lock his finger together and placed the palms under the back of my head. I relaxed my neck to lower the head and pin his hands between me and the pillow, while Curt flexed and spread his legs to stretch himself across the top of me.

I placed one hand on his chest and the other on the stomach, then began to rub. Side to side, circular, up and down, my hands and fingers covered every inch of his chest, belly and arm pits with a deep, stimulating massage. As I slid one hand under his oiled cock, the fully erect organ sprang off his belly like a catapult, then returned to slam across the back of my hand. I kept it there and dug my fingers deep into the belly just above his pubic hairs.

'Why do you make us do this to you? Why must we torture you?'

Deep groans reverberated from his chest, while he writhed and arched the back, further submitting himself to my worship and torment. The undulating gyrations and vise like clinching from above thoroughly stimulated my pulsating pecker and I increased the intensity of my chest and belly rub.

'How can you endure such punishment? What more must we do to you?'

My finger found his navel and dug in deep. The muscle beneath was as hard as a brick. He arched the back even higher and sucked in his middle section to stretch his belly as tight as it could be. All the while, manly groans of pain and pleasure echoed throughout the room. Neglecting his bouncing peter, both my hands found his helplessly stretched nipples and began to pinch and twist.

Convulsions rippled from his head to the toes. I could feel him flex the leg muscles to further stretch his body and increase the intensity. Inside, the innards of his rectum crushed me in their warm, undulating vise and I felt my cock grow stronger, longer and thicker, becoming a devastating spear to impale my helpless victim.

I whispered to him, 'Talk, Nolan. Talk now. No man can take this.'

His convulsive frenzy finished me. I felt my nuts shrinking, ready to explode and just as they did, I took my right hand from the nipple and ruthlessly grabbed his tortured penis. Instantly, I squeezed the hell out of it and stroked the oiled organ from head to base. With a savage fury, my fingers encircled his massive mushroom head and twisted back and forth like I was opening a jar of mayonnaise, which is exactly what I got.

Unbridled contortions of sheer orgasmic heaven shook the entire bedframe, as rapid-fire bullets of cum simultaneously spattered his chest and flooded his rectum. No verbal sounds were made. We both were flexed and tensed to capacity, as our nuts released incredible volumes of the youthful seed we had built up in them. His crushing anus reduced my pecker to the diameter of a soda straw, or so it felt and I finished his masturbation with frantic strokes to and fro on the full length of his impressive penis.

As we released the used air in our lungs and gasped for more, the eruptions from our nuts began to fade. I continued to manually stroke, which caused him to clinch his insides around me, until we finally both collapsed in completely satisfied exhaustion.

Then, we both laid there for the longest time, just breathing heavily and enjoying our come-down. His hands remained folded under my head, while mine were clamped onto his damp arm pits to hold him tightly against me. I felt my peter losing strength, until it gently slipped out into the daylight and only then was the silence broken.

'Oops, I lost you,' he chuckled a bit.

'Yeah, well, you got all of it, that's for sure.'

'Glad you got the towels.' He grabbed one and rolled off of me. When he stood, I could see dots of sticky sperm in the middle of his chest and a trail of it leading to a huge puddle just above his navel.

'That's a whole lotta cum, Curt.'

'Yeah, I think that's a topper.'

'Hate to guess how much I left in you.'

'What happens to it?'

'Well, I think you gotta shit it out. Speaking of shit...'

I looked down to see, thankfully, nothing but oil covering my dick. Everything had gone splendidly and I suspected to soon again visit my friend's dark hole, no longer fearful that anything disgusting would be left behind on my precious pecker.

Just then, Curt got a funny look on his face. 'Uh, I think that time's about now.'

He ran to the bathroom and I could hear liquid farts. As I was cleaning myself and the bed sheets, I wondered if he'd still feel ok about what had just happened. Having fluids come out your ass isn't a good feeling normally and I didn't know how he would react, but when he returned he was all smiles.

'Man, that was weird.'

'Did it feel as good coming out as it did going in?'

'No. It's no big deal, though.'

'Hey, Curt, we forgot to compare hard-ons.'

'Maybe next time. I guess they're both good enough for what we wanna do.'

'How bout a shower?'

'Sounds great.'

So, we did a compare and contrast with our hardened peckers. To our delight, the identical characteristics held true under both normal and aroused conditions. Once erect, we had no choice but to suck each other off. He enjoyed my services first, then he did me and we came out of the shower clean as could be.

We decided things couldn't get much better for one day as far as excitement goes, so at about two o'clock he went home and I took a little nap. My dick was hard the entire time, but the baby oil eventually solved that problem.

Several more sleep overs took place before both of us left our parents' nest and each one was carefully planned to give us the next morning alone to do as we pleased. We found many new discoveries with which to please ourselves, but once we headed off to college the games were no more.

We did get together one more time during the Christmas break. The opportunity was there for something heavy, but instead we spent most of that time talking about new friends and things we had done with them. After doing a sixty-nine with me hovering on top, we never shared an orgasm again nor saw each other.

I suppose our mind sets had changed to the tune of The Thrill is Gone.' It was a great adventure and valuable learning experience, but just an early phase in my bedroom life that came and went. It's far better to remember what was, rather than to try and repeat what can never be again.

The End