The Clearing

My parents drove halfway to my grandparents' place to hand me over, so I could spend a couple of weeks of the summer holidays with them.  My family lived in suburban Melbourne, and my grandparents in a small town on Western Port Bay called Corinella.  It was fun as a kid to explore the rocky beaches and the countryside, including a couple of derelict houses, go fishing with my grandfather, and swim off the jetty.  I had a special reason to be particularly excited this year, as my grandparents turned off the Bass Highway, and we headed for their little house on the main street.  I can't remember ever knowing any of the street names in Corinella, it was that kind of place.  We got there in time for dinner and, being tired after the long drive, I turned in early.

In the morning, Nan made me breakfast, including as always a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.  I was standing at the lounge room window, admiring the view across a field to the bay, when they arrived.  Word had obviously gotten around; everyone knew everyone's business in Corinella.  My heart raced a little when I saw them.  I'd hoped they'd still be here.

The Sullivan boys, Terry and John, had ridden up on their bikes, and were just waiting at the end of the drive.  They were one and two years older than my fourteen and a half, and strapping country lads.  Terry was stocky, while John was lithe, but the brotherly resemblance in their handsome faces was obvious.

Nan saw them, and grimaced her disapproval.  Terry and John were the town tearaways, always getting into trouble for one thing or another, although never anything truly bad.

"See you later," I said to Nan, and dashed out the door before she could object.  She couldn't very well protest, anyway.  I'd spent most of last summer with the Sullivans and we hadn't gotten into any trouble.  Apparently, no one had put two and two together, and worked out that the boys behaved while I was in town.

I grabbed my grandparents' spare bike, and in moments the three of us were riding toward the Point, not having exchanged a word.  Corinella was located on a small peninsula that jutted out into Western Port Bay.  The Point was at the apex of the peninsula and was in a small, State park, thick with bushland.  The land ended at a narrow beach, but the park was above the beach, at the top of a cliff that wasn't sheer, but was hazardous to climb.  Other than a forlorn picnic table, there was nothing much to do but look at the view.  This meant it was mostly deserted.

Terry and John rode along either side of me as we entered the park, as if they didn't want me to get away.  They needn't have bothered.  I wasn't going anywhere.  About half way into the park, we pulled off the road, and wheeled the bikes into the bush.  Our clearing was a naturally secluded area in the trees.  There were non-native pine trees all around, and the clearing was carpeted in pine needles that actually made it pleasant to walk on barefoot...  And to lie naked on.  There was also an old van that had been abandoned there long ago.  It had no motor, windows, or internal fittings, and although pretty thoroughly rusted out, still seemed structurally sound.  This and the thick, felled tree lying to one side, were handy props.

We put our bikes down, and again without a word, all three of us started stripping our clothes off. In anticipation, and given the summer warmth, I hadn't worn much, and in my eagerness, was naked before either of them.  I got to admire their fit, young bodies as they undressed.  Both of them had developed chest hair since last summer, and I couldn't stop myself from running my tongue through the fur on Terry's barrel chest, find one of his nipples, and start suckling.  He moaned in appreciation, and I applied my hand to his other nipple.

John finished stripping first, so he came over, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and pulled my mouth over to his chest, so I could give him the same treatment.  "Fuck, yeah," he said, the first of us to say anything since we left my folks'.  I reached down and started stroking him to get him hard.

Terry wasn't long getting naked, and pressed up against me, grabbing my hips.  I felt his already growing cock against my arse.  He'd pulled some lube from one of the bike panniers, and was applying it roughly to my hole.

John decided he couldn't wait anymore, and hands still grasping my hair, pushed me down to take his cock in my mouth.  I slurped, and gasped, and gagged, as he carelessly fucked my face.

Just as forcefully, Terry was stretching my arse, inserting more and more fingers.  I was glad he remembered that, even if it didn't last long.  In moments, he was pushing his cock head against my hole, and relentlessly moving forward.  I did my best to relax, distracted by John's attack on my mouth.  Eventually, I felt Terry bottom out, his pubic hair tickling my arse cheeks.  He stopped there, and let me get used to it.  Again, I was grateful he remembered.

Terry started stroking in and out, and soon the two of them were pounding away at me.  Bent over wasn't the most comfortable position, but I was partially supported by the boys at hips and hair, and their pummeling didn't give me much chance to fall.  I was in heaven.  I'd waited all year for this, and the Sullivan boys didn't disappoint.

I came as they were having their way with me, just before Terry painted my insides with cum.  Not to be left out, John filled my mouth with a veritable gusher, which I gulped down like a trooper.  They withdrew from me and we slumped on the soft pine needles, breathing heavily.

"Fuck, yeah," John gasped in satisfaction, and we laughed together.

"I've been hanging out all year for this," I said.  "You two are fucking fantastic."

"We were stoked to hear you'd come down again," Terry said.  "Especially John.  He's gone without, all year."

"Fuck you," John responded in mock anger.

"I got Sharon Smith to put out a few months ago," Terry continued.  "It was nothing like with you, though.  I really had to hold back.  It's great to just clobber that arse of yours.  And her pussy wasn't nearly as tight as you are.  No comparison."

"Glad to oblige," I said.  "I can't get enough of you guys railing on me.  You're total studs."

This is how it had been last summer.  I had followed Terry and John to the Point with some trepidation during my previous visit, and to my Nan's consternation.  They had a reputation and scared me a little, but they were hot, and their confidence was so sexy.  I'd realised I was gay the  year before, and being horny as hell, loved just being around these manly boys.  Their smell alone drove me crazy.

They'd taken me to the clearing to show me their hidey hole.  I wandered around, and a little hazy with the warmth of the day, I was relaxed when they pounced.  The boys grabbed me, and despite my struggles, quickly tied my hands behind my back.  I hadn't noticed the rope on their bikes.  I was frightened and annoyed as they bent me over the felled tree and lashed me to it.  I couldn't move and I yelled and admonished them impotently, while they laughed and taunted me.  They threatened to leave me there, and I begged them not to.  They thought it was all great fun.

It was Terry, presumably driven by youthful horniness who pulled his dick out, and waved it in my face.  They both seemed to love the idea of sticking it in my mouth, a disgusting thought to them.  Egged on by John, Terry menaced me with his dick, and pushed it toward my mouth.  He was obviously expecting me to turn my head, clench my mouth closed, and resist.

This was my first exposure to bondage.  I hadn't even seen or heard of it at my tender age.  Despite the fear and anger though, I realised my dick had gone hard.  I was getting kind of excited by it.  Blame that, or just the intoxicating aroma Terry gave off, but without thinking, I didn't resist.  When his dick neared my face, I opened my mouth and took him in.  He stopped moving and gasped, and I sucked hungrily, 'all in' now before I thought better of it.

John looked on goggle-eyed as I licked and slurped at Terry's dick.  Terry seemed to be holding his breath until finally it came out in a moan of pleasure.  He started to move his hips, sliding his now rigid member in and out of my slobbering mouth.  It was a minute or two before he ejaculated partially into my mouth, and clumsily, across my face.

John hesitated a moment, but Terry's gasps and exclamations of obvious pleasure animated him quickly enough.  He pushed his brother aside and shoved his dick into my mouth.  I gave him the same treatment, and he was as quick to shoot down my throat, unlike his brother holding my head against his crotch while he came.

They were shocked, and unsure what to do now.  They untied me and let me go home, not saying anything.  My head was swimming.  My first sex, with two guys no less!  I could still taste them.  At home, I quickly washed off my face before going in.  I don't know if Nan noticed how goofy I felt.

I was awake all night, thinking about the boys and what they'd done, masturbating several times.

The next day, after breakfast, the Sullivan boys appeared at the foot of the drive.  They didn't come in, but just waited there.  It didn't occur to me at the time that they might be afraid I'd tell on them, and it was kind of brave of them to show up like this.  I was too busy thinking with my dick, or rather in this case my mouth.  I was outside on the bike, and following them to the Point, before I thought twice.

They tied my hands together, then down to the log, with little resistance from me this time.  After minor hesitation and some jostling, Terry took to my mouth again.  He held my head and fucked my face roughly to a quick ejaculation.  John took over and did the same.  This time though, they left me tied up while they rested.

It wasn't long before John was ready to go again, and started a slower, more relaxed face fucking.  Terry got impatient though, and ever the inventive one, he realised I had another hole available.  I felt my shorts pulled down off my upturned arse.  I gasped and shivered a little.  I had fantasised a lot about being fucked.  I knew I was very much a bottom, and wanted men inside me.  The impending reality made me clench with apprehension though.

Terry was a rough and tumble guy, but at the end of the day, he wasn't a bastard.  With a lot of spit and patience from him, and a lot of heavy breathing and instruction from me, he managed to slowly insert his cock all the way into me.  I gradually relaxed as he gently stroked in and out of me, and the pleasure I'd imagined began to radiate from my arse.  My mouth momentarily free of John's dick, I begged, "Fuck me.  Fuck me, hard!"

Terry didn't have to be told twice, and started hammering away at me.  They'd hear me moan before, but nothing like this as Terry worked my prostate.  I was obviously loving it all.  I became so loud, John grabbed my head with one hand, and clamped his other over my mouth.  I was delirious with the thrill of being bound, hand-gagged, and fucked mercilessly.  I realised having a guy's hand over my mouth while being fucked, was a big turn on.

Terry tensed in my arse, filled me up, and slumped out of me.  John released my head, and I looked up to him.  "Fuck me." 

He scrambled around the tree, spat a gobbet of saliva into his hand and slathered his dick.  His entry was much easier than Terry's, and he didn't wait to be told to pound me.  I was crying out in pleasure, and came against the tree, moments before John tensed inside me.

So the pattern of my summer holiday was set.  I would spend all day out "exploring" with the Sullivan boys, every day heading to the clearing.  Every day they'd tie me up, and take turns fucking my mouth and arse.  Rarely, they kind-of checked in that I was okay with it all.  I made it abundantly clear I wanted them to continue, and enjoyed the roughness.  They were relieved, and held back less and less.

As I said, Terry was the creative one, and he was soon tying me in different positions.  The wrists behind my back was replaced with them tied in front of me, stretched out and lashed to a tree across from the felled log.  I was still bent over the log for easy access to me arse, of course. The next day, I was laid on my stomach on the pine needle floor, my arms and legs tethered to opposite trees, and the boys humped me into the ground.  I was later tied, spread-eagled to the front of the rusted-out van, and they fucked me up against that.  Then, laid on my back on a blanket in the back of the van, my hands were tied to the front seat mounting.  One of the boys, would fuck my face, usually, forced with a handful of my hair, and the other would hoist my hips up, and plow my hole.  Then they'd swap.  Another time, They had me dangling by my bound wrists from a tree branch, just able to reach the ground with my feet, while they took turns.

I lost track of the positions the boys tried.  They always tied me up.  I think they felt it was somehow less gay, if I was bound.  It didn't bother me.  I was learning a lot about what I liked, and I really liked being tied up while they used me.  I loved being fucked.  Much more so than giving head.  I didn't mind sucking them, but gagged a bit, and would rather just relax, and let them fuck me stupid.  I also liked them being rough, and manhandling me.

We didn't talk much about the sex.  When I wasn't helpless and being violated, we'd talk about movies, TV shows, and the stuff teenage boys talk about.

While Terry and John did enjoy letting loose on me, they weren't bad guys.  Definitely straight, they wouldn't kiss me, or use their mouths on me in any way, and wouldn't touch my dick.  Within those limits, they seemed receptive to doing stuff to me as I became more confident to ask for it.  I'd early on discovered I liked being hang-gagged, and that was a frequent feature of their handling.  It also reduced the amount of face fucking.  I totally approved of being grabbed by the hair, and controlled, and roughed-up that way.  A bit of choking was good, and I absolutely got off on them working my nipples, from gentle to full-on, violent pinching.  Often, while one of them was fucking me, the other would be working my tits, holding his hand over my mouth, or both.  All in all, they were considerate about me enjoying it too.

We'd be out all day, fucking and resting.  Nan become concerned that I wasn't coming home for lunch and started making me sandwiches and stuff to take with me.  At night, I generally went to bed right after dinner.  I've never slept so well in my life, the sleep of the totally reamed.

My last day before heading home, the boys took full advantage, and I don't think my arse was free of one of their dicks the whole day.  I hated going home.  I had no confidence, and knew I'd never find anyone like Terry and John there.

The whole year I was fantasising about the boys and what that done to me.  Frustrated by my mundane life at school and home.  When Mum suggested I go to Nan's for the summer again, there was no hesitation.  It was so good to be back.

I was luxuriating in the pine needles, satiated from the quick fucking they'd given me.  Young guys don't need long to recover though, and moments later, I felt lubed fingers invading my hole again.  I opened my eyes, and John was over me.  "My turn," he said with a mischievous grin.  He maneuvered his knees under my back to lift my arse off the ground, and took my ankles on his shoulders.  His re-inflating dick pressed at my hole, and I sighed mightily as he slid into my well-stretched channel.

Once I was fully impaled by John, Terry straddled my chest, pulled my wrists over my head, and held them there with one strong hand.  With the other, he took a handful of my hair and pulled my mouth onto his girthy shaft.  Again, I surrendered to these hot boys and their needs.  They didn't hold back, and used me roughly again, pinned under them.  I loved having them on top of me as they did me.  I loved being dominated by them.  They soon filled me with another couple of loads.

I didn't cum while they were inside me this time.  The boys were nothing if not gentlemen though, and helped me finish off just the way I liked it.  John took my nipples in hand, pinching and working them to moans of pleasured-painful appreciation from me.  Terry had three or four fingers grinding in my hole, and the other hand firmly held over my mouth, further muffling my groans.  I masturbated to ejaculation, feeling fully dominated, and used the whole time.

Having gotten off twice, we all rested for a little longer this time.  When we were ready to go again, Terry produced a roll of duct-tape, a new discovery that he would use imaginatively this summer.  First up, was me again on my stomach, left wrist bound to left ankle, and right wrist to right ankle, leaving  me helpless and open.  Finally, a strip of tape was slapped over my mouth, and I moaned my approval as Terry mounted me.

The summer flew by with Terry and John using me in new positions and restraints, as well as some old favourites.

On our last day, during one of lulls, I said, "God, I'm going to miss this.  I wish you guys could just fuck me forever."

They murmured agreement, and then it came to me, "Why don't you guys come up to Melbourne for the mid-year break?"  They looked at me with no little interest.  "I'm sure I can talk my folks into letting you stay in the spare room.  And they work all day, so..."

Terry licked his lips in contemplation, and John looked speculative.

So it was planned.  Terry and John came up and stayed at my place for the mid-year holidays.  In the evenings, we'd go to the movies or something.  With my folks at work, I spent most days tied up, to my bed, one of theirs, the coffee table, strung between a couple trees in the backyard, whatever Terry could think of.  And I was fucked from the moment my folks left for the day, until their cars came up the drive.  One time, my wrists were taped together behind my back, my ankles to the legs of the bed, and I was bent over the footboard, John pounding away, when my mum got home.  Terry had to distract her long enough for John to get me untrussed, and into at least some shorts.  We had to make up things that we'd supposedly done that day.

The following summer it was mostly just John and me.  Terry had a job, and was seeing more girls, though he did join us a couple of times in the clearing.  With just one, I didn't get quite the summer fucking I had the previous two years.

None-the-less, John used me enthusiastically.  He also found the courage, without Terry present, to do a few things I don't think he'd otherwise have done.  He started kissing me while he fucked me, really tonguing my mouth, and I loved that.  Despite all the arse-fucking I'd received over the last two years, I hadn't been kissed by a man, and happily sucked on his tongue and explored his mouth with mine.  His eyes were generally closed, so I presume he was imagining some bimbo.  I wasn't complaining.

One time, he even blew me, another new experience.  I think he just wanted to see what it was like.  And I was tied up, after all.  It's not gay if I'm tied up, right?

I went home that summer well satisfied, but a little sad.  I knew John would soon be too busy to use me, and there had been no suggestion of a mid-year visit.

Years later, after my grandparents had passed away, I went down to Corinella to check out the old haunts.  Their house was still there with a few modifications, and the shop on the main street didn't look much different.  There was no sign of any of Sullivans.  I drove down to the Point and walked into the bush to find our clearing.  The rusted van was gone, and the log was collapsing, but pine needles still carpeted the ground.  I was so turned on remembering being used by the Sullivan boys, that I stripped off, rolled around on the needles, and jerked off.

Thanks boys.  You made my summers fucking awesome.