Cock-Sucker: Weekend Ch. 02

Compassionately, the Teacher (Pierre) cautiously examines the welts on our buttocks, his fingers tracing the soft curves to the cleavage between. He produces some Vaseline and rubs it leisurely into the wounds as we both still bend over to receive his intimate attentions. He rubs both bottoms, then inserts a lubricated finger into each puckered anus. Expressions of surprise and pleasure flicker across our faces as we exchange mischievous grins and squirm our penetrated hips delightfully. He finger-fucks in and out as we move responsively. Eventually he indicates us to stand up. He sits down so he can examine our cocks, taking one in each hand, cupping and fondling our balls. He kisses our cocks in turn, sucks one, then the other, holds them together so he can suck both as we arch our backs and groan appreciatively.

At the same moment the Janitor (Jacque) emerges behind us, poised like the comic-villain from a silent movie, brandishing his erection and wanking furiously at the sight of the Teacher sucking both cocks. At first the Teacher shies away with a shocked expression, until I reach out and seize the Janitor's cock firmly, just below the wicked glans, and everyone smiles.

The two men hurriedly undress and a series of short sequences follow (a) the nude Janitor and Teacher stand side-by-side while us two boys crouch and suck them in long slurpy mouthfuls, (b) the Janitor sits, I bend down to suck him as the Teacher fucks my bottom, Paul stands close enough for the seated Janitor to reach out and wank him, (c) Paul lies on his back sucking the Janitor who stands over his head, while I bend over to suck Paul, my hips raised so the Teacher can fuck my bottom. The Teacher withdraws from my bottom and we move around so I can transfer and suck the Teacher, then go back to sucking Paul as the Teacher relocates his cock back into my cutely-pursed bottom, (d) I lie on my back with Teacher and Janitor separately and jointly in my mouth, while Paul bends over to suck me. The Teacher moves around to fuck Paul's bottom as he simultaneously wanks me. I ejaculate across my own stomach. Paul wanks as he's being fucked, so he spurts over my cock and stomach. The Teacher withdraws from Paul and puts his cock back into my mouth, as with loud grunts and groans the Janitor and Teacher ejaculate over my face and into my open mouth as I lick and slobber at their erupting cocks. Paul licks white blobby strands of our spunk from where it's pooling on my stomach.

A brief final sequence shows the Teacher marking our report cards. We both get 'A+'.

FILM 3:

Opens with a shot of an online job-recruitment ad for 'Two Corporate Cum-Sluts'. Then cuts to Paul and I entering the house, obviously applying for the positions. We're wearing 'Tom of Finland' Gay Cowboy T-shirts and jeans. As we climb the staircase Paul watches the exaggerated sway-movement of my bottom, he smiles at me, and as we near the top he reaches out and caresses the crotch of my pants. He pulls the zip down. I wear no undershorts. As my pants fall away to my ankles he seizes my hard-on and caresses it affectionately. As he feels me up I unfasten his belt, his pants fall to the floor and he steps out of them. We're standing in conscious imitation of the two Gay Cowboys posed on our T-shirts, cocks almost touching.

Then he's one step beneath me, his total attention fixed on my groin. Later, watching the replay, it's obvious that the desire on his face is not faked. As he squeezes my cock a silvery bead of moisture oozes from the tip. In an improvised action he uses his finger to carefully wipe it away, retrieving it, and lifting it to his mouth. He tongues the glistening pre-cum away, and licks his lips. He seems about to reach forward and kiss my cock when I indicate the time on my wristwatch. Sulkily he releases his hold on me. Then I pace down the corridor, bare-arsed, cock and balls teasingly glimpsed swaying beneath my T-shirt. He follows me crawling on all fours like a sinuous panther, his lips parted forming a suggestively open 'O'. The camera follows the curve of his cutely-wiggling bottom, down to the winking mouth of his anus, and on down between his legs to his dangling balls and his erection flipping and jiggling as he crawls.

We enter a small office. A smartly-dressed business-man (Jacque) sits behind a desk keying a computer. We sit down on two leather swivel-chairs facing the desk. Paul reaches out into my groin and begins leisurely wanking me, I do the same to him, but Jacque consistently ignores us and keeps his attention fixed on the computer-screen. Paul nudges me and points at Jacque. I snigger, and now it's my turn to get down on all fours onto the carpet, and crawl under the desk. My bare bottom protrudes from the underside of the desk as I wriggle in between Jacque's parted legs, and draw his fly down. I extract his meaty stiff uncircumcised cock and lick carefully around the glans, my bottom wiggles as I suck his cock into my mouth as far as I can. My head rides up and down in his groin.

The door behind us opens and a second smartly-dressed business-man (Pierre) enters carrying a clipboard. He sees what's happening, and watches open-mouthed with shock. Paul kneels down before him, unzips his pants and tugs them down, his heavy erection swaying out between his shirt-tails. Paul sucks it into his mouth. The double-sucking continues in lurid close-up. Eventually Jacque pulls me up off his cock by the hair and we stand up. As I emerge from under the desk, I shrug off my T-shirt and bend down forward over the desk naked. Jacque parts my legs and nudges his glistening cock into my anus and slides it in slowly. Simultaneously Paul unmouths Pierre's cock and stands up, pulls Pierre across to the desk by his saliva-wet cock and guides it into my mouth.

Paul pulls off his T-shirt, and once nude he moves around to the other side of the desk to lie backwards across it adjacent to where Jacque is fucking me. Without even pulling out of my bottom Jacque moves backwards, pulling me up off Pierre's cock by my hair so that I'm partially lifted up from the desk, allowing Paul to shuffle across and in beneath me so he can reach my stiff cock with his mouth. Once we're positioned Jacque propels me forward and lowers me back down so that my cock slides forward into Paul's throat and I continue down towards his groin, taking his cock, so that we're now in the sixty-nine position, mutually sucking each other. Pierre moves around to take advantage of Paul's close proximity. Raises his legs up to target his bum. I'm so close I can see the full length of his mighty cock feeding into the tight orifice. Pierre fucks Paul, as Jacque fucks my bottom, and we suck each other, four bodied writhing and squirming together, fully interlocked.

The copulating choreography, all worked out and directed by François, continues until the spunking-off begins. I rear my head back sufficiently so the camera can pick up every detail of Paul's jism spurting up into my mouth, as I withdraw sufficiently from his mouth so that my spurts splash across his upturned face. Finally, as Pierre ejaculates across Paul's bum cheeks, and Jacque does the same over mine, he turns the computer screen around so that the viewer can see what he was paying such close attention to in the first place.

It is explicit Gay Porn. Fade.

FILM 4:

I'm strolling through a copse of trees, maybe a public park. Paul is walking the other way. We smile at each other. He looks down at the bulge in the groin of my tight jeans. I return his attention. He licks his lips suggestively. We glance around, no-one is there. Hand in hand we move into a more sheltered clearing. I pull my pants down and off, he does the same. We feel each other up, then I get down on my knees and suck his cock. There are close-ups of me sucking him, my pursed lips comfortably enveloping his proud stiffness.

At that moment two policemen (Pierre and Jacque) suddenly appear. They hustle us away – still trouserless, and handcuff our wrists behind us. They thrust us into the back of a van, with close-ups of our dangling balls and swaying cocks as we climb in. Jacque climbs in with us. We both crouch there, as though scared. Jacque sits on a low fore-bench. I smile appealingly up at him. He brandishes his baton and stirs my genitals with it, I bite my lip approvingly. He uses the stick to stir Paul's cock and balls, he smiles and licks his lips.

Jacque sneers. "Filthy little queers. Let's see what you do to each other. Come on, do it for me."

We squirm around to each other, I glance flirtily up at Jacque, then dip my head into Paul's groin and begin sucking him, lying back so he can do the same to me. We writhe together in an indulgent sixty-nine. Jacque watches open-mouthed, wiping sweat from his brow as we mutually slurp at each other. He goes to the van door, looks out this way and that, closes the door, unbuckles his pants and drops them to the floor, then sits down splay-legged before us, indicates his fat cock with his baton in an obvious direct order. I release Paul's damply swaying cock and shuffle forward, reaching up to suck the head of Jacque's cock. Paul shuffles around and begins to suck his balls, then we both lick his cock and take turns to suck it. He holds our heads in place directing who does what. There are close-ups of me, mouthful of cock, eye-to-eye with Paul who waits his turn, then me watching as it slides deep into his receptive mouth.

Unexpectedly, Pierre enters the van behind us, to be confronted by the sight of our two bobbing bare bottoms, as both of our heads are buried in his companion's spread groin, Jacque's eyes closed in erotic bliss. For a moment Pierre watches, then he closes the door, removes his own pants, moistens his stiff cock with saliva and slides it into my arse. There's a close-up of my wide-eyed expression of shocked surprise around a mouthful of cock. Then Pierre extracts and fucks into Paul's bottom while Paul sucks Jacque. I watch, my own cock twitching, as Paul is debauched from both ends.

Pierre reaches out to release our handcuffs. I bob my hand in under Paul's gut and seize his dangling cock, wanking it energetically. Pierre pulls out of Paul's bottom, and I immediately twist around so that, squatting on all fours, I can take Pierre's cock in my mouth. Jacque pulls out of Paul's mouth and slides into my bottom. Paul goes down and sucks my cock. After a while we all disengage. They lie on their backs on the floor, we crouch over them, rumps in the air. I suck Pierre. Paul sucks Jacque. Then we switch. Jacque ejaculates messily into my open mouth until it dribbles down my chin. Pierre does the same with Paul. The 'policemen' then dress and release us.

We walk away hand in hand, still minus our pants. I look flirtily at Paul, he looks at me suggestively. We hurry back into the same clearing as before, fall down together, and eagerly begin to sixty-nine...

I've watched plenty of Porn. What guy can honestly claim he hasn't? But I've never really watched Gay Porn before. Watching these play-backs later it's obvious that, although they're cheaply exploitative, there's more than the usual level of invention and imagination taking place, plus a modicum of humour too. Despite my assumed air of bored cynicism, I must admit François' direction and the subsequent editing is mildly impressive. In addition, although I'm a participant, the distancing gives the action an unmistakably arousing effect. In fact, I can't deny I'm getting turned on, by watching myself in a series of very compromising situations. How strange and disturbing is that...?

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During a break in the filming Paul and I, still nude, take the opportunity of exploring the upper floors, pacing like naughty inquisitive schoolboys along the richly-carpeted corridors where oil-paintings of ancestors hang regarding us critically, or lustfully. I find myself absently watching Paul padding up ahead of me, lingering over the shape of his elegant polished limbs, slender and finely knit, alive with suppleness, the way the muscles in the cheeks of his bare derrière move, feeling a pleasurable thrill of anticipation at the thought of having sex with him again. Catching myself scarily... what's happening to me? All of this gayness is affecting me. It's getting to me.

Warily, Paul nudges an ornate gilt bedroom door ajar, it's empty beyond, so we steal into a plush boudoir of soaring ceiling and Venetian mirrors. It seems to me there's a lengthy tradition of aristocratic homosexuality in the chateau. There are lavish paintings hung on the wall, in the classical style, but with a pronounced subtext of predominant male nudity, a wistful tousle-haired naked shepherd-boy leaning on his crook watching the muscled toilers straining in the field with homo-erotic longing. Formations of rather well-developed cupids frolicking playfully-entwined in arcadian floral bowers, arranged within kissing distance of each other's perky blush-pink pego's. A pastoral riverbank with a rickety jetty and the cutely-dimpled bottoms of skinny-dipping boys bathing in the shallows, their coyly down-turned penes untouched by pubic hair.

Beautifully-muscled well-proportioned naked olympians running in ancient Grecian settings. Are those two glistening athletes really involved in the healthy manly sport of wrestling, or is it a pre-copulatory tussle to establish who fucks who? It's difficult to tell. It's a wonder the family managed to survive long enough to breed a dynasty with such a persistent gender-orientation. I can't help but wonder what scenes of pederastic debauchery this bedroom has seen over the years. If those pictures could talk, what scandalous tales would they tell? Of when the now-ancient Comte was younger, rogering young ostlers or pretty serving boys, bending them over this bed. And his predecessors in their time.

"Gay culture is so single-mindedly cock-centred, to the exclusion of everything else" I point out.

Paul smiles beguilingly. "Yes, wonderful isn't it."

There's an inlaid dressing-table with rows of small drawers which I begin sliding open and poking around inside. Third one down there's a selection of jewel-cases. Flipping the first one open there's an expensive-looking antique diamond ring. I slide it onto my index finger. It fits. It stays. Must be worth a considerable amount.

"So are you... are you cool with these movies?"

"I get paid to have sex with three well-hung guys" he shrugs. "What's not to like? What most people don't realise, and daren't admit, is that lots of guys like doing Gay porn – even straight guys. After all, think about it, it's a window of opportunity to play out all of those dark sexual fantasies you were always too scared to confess to, or too self-conscious to accept. To answer those troubling bi-curious questions, in a controlled non-threatening guilt-free way. You can reason that you're not doing this through choice, you're only doing what François, the director dictates. Me, I don't need excuses. I don't need any convoluted reasoning. The only motivation I need is there, between your legs. For me, as a special bonus, I get to have sex with you. So yes, I'm more than happy with it."

I glance across. Paul stands beside the bed, wearing a petulantly perplexed expression – and nothing else, his hand rests on his hip in a casually camp way, gifting me a view of the smooth hemispheres of his bare derriere, as round as the moon, giving me the full benefit of its swell, and its cleft like the world's most perfect nectarine. Some might say he looks exceedingly appetising, as tasty as one of the sybarites in the paintings.

"But what about the anal stuff?"

"As Uncle Vanya told me, as he buggered me, it doesn't make sense to say that to use the anus sexually is unnatural. To say that, because the anus is designed for defecation disqualifies it as a sex organ, is like saying because you piss from your penis that is disqualified too. He said I have a self-lubricating rectum, like a vagina. I don't know, maybe he's right. I've never experienced any discomfort."

Maybe it's the effect of the capsules François had given me – although I think not, or a bi-curious impulse fired by his words, but I get a sudden urge to play-wrestle him down onto the eiderdown and fuck him. Something nervy and muscle-tightening creeping up from my gut, prompted by that familiar prickly-pleasing urging in the groin. Unsettled by this illogical surge – the first time I'd ever felt so blatant a desire for another guy, that heady adrenaline-rush. But as Oscar Wilde says 'the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden itself.' I skirt around the bed towards him, he seems to sense my intention and half-turns towards me, smiling beguilingly.

"By the glint in your eye, sir, I fear you are about to ravish me. And me too weak to be anything other than compliant."

He holds his hands out before him. I press my hands up against his hands, palm to palm, fingers lacing into each other, and I apply a little pressure, easing him gently back so that he's sitting on the edge of the bed. Then press him back further, his legs are splayed wide, so as we fall together, I find myself lying between them, our genitals pleasantly crushed together. I can feel his nakedness, his smooth hairless chest. We lie for a moment. Under stress or excitement I can see the blood coursing olive in his face. Then his hand moves down, his slim cool fingers find my cock, squeezes it gently and relocates it down, levering it between his legs to target the opening. I'm breathing like I've been running. He's still lubricated and dilated from the most recent filming, and my glans sockets easily into the mouth of the tight constriction.

For a moment we lie still. He's gazing directly into my eyes. He undulates his hips lasciviously, urging me further in. It only needs the slightest pressure to slide deeper, then a little more, so easily until it's all the way in. He exhales sharply, for a moment his eyes close and his head arches back, his mouth tightening into a thin line of concentration. It feels peculiar, strangely exciting. I draw partway back, he's smiling flirtatiously up at me now, a teasing inviting smile. I could get to like this, he tightens his anal muscles, clasping me tighter, and flexes, I can't help but glide in again, cleaving like a silk torpedo. His arms come up around me, holding the cheeks of my bare arse, drawing me in.

"You know" he whispers. "This is what I've always wanted. All that time ago at college when you never so much as noticed me and I was too shy to speak to you, this is what I wanted, to have your cock inside me. To be honest, you were the object of several vivid and very explicit masturbatory fantasies."

"I wish I'd known, back then, I was aching to get my cock sucked."

"Don't worry. Your cock was getting well-sucked every night, in my wank-fantasies."

I laugh softly and begin to fuck him. He's moaning with pleasure, rolling his head on the bed-covers as the pace of my rhythm speeds up, driven by a mounting urgency in my groin. The bedsprings are creaking so I'm certain someone will hear and know what we're doing, but no longer care. I'm conscious of his erection bouncing up between us, the lolloping movement of his tight testicles. This is sex on fire, fierce and fast, and over too quickly. Soon, with the sex-bug crawling down my spine, I'm jerking and groaning out my orgasm, rammed deep up into his pulsing gut. As though someone thumbed the hot-button in every arsenal on the planet, and every thermonuclear warhead was simultaneously detonating at the tip of my cock. It was that powerful. Feeling the breath shuddering through his body in response. I collapse onto him weak and drained, and we lie together. I'm aware of the sticky wet pool of his ejaculation, where he's come, with his slippery-moist cock crushed up between us. It feels good, a pleasing slithery wetness.