From Clay to Putty

"Oh God..."

*It feels so good.*

*You're already drunk.*

*Why not just let go?*

"Mmnngghhh..." Oh fuck, am I floating?

Jason is on his knees in front of me. His pants are open and the white expanse I see is his briefs stretched tight across is bulging crotch. He moves ever so slightly and then something hot and thick and hard is placed against my lips, sliding easily into my slack mouth.

"Suck on this a while," he says. And then he makes me sniff more of whatever's in the bottle and I blank out once more.

"Smile, Clay." I hear when I finally come down from orbit. I think it's Brian? I drag my eyes open and yeah, it's Brian, and he's holding his phone out and, oh fuck, is he taking pictures? He's taking pictures!

I'm so dazed I don't even realize Jason's dick is in my mouth.

What? There's a dick in my mouth?! Brian's already snapped several pictures before I pull back. Jason's cock falls from my mouth and he laughs and slips it back into his briefs.

I feel Eric lick deeper into me and I shudder and groan. I can't clear my head because Jason keeps shoving the bottle against my nose and making me inhale. It's as if whatever I'm sniffing is making me more and more horny. My head is spinning and all I can think about is Eric's tongue and how he's relaxing my clenched hole. How can something so soft like a tongue be so powerful?

I'm totally helpless under his touch. My breaths are coming in gasps as he opens me up just a bit more and slides his tongue inside.

"Let's get him up on this," Frank says. I look and he's pointing to a low, narrow table with a bunch of photos and awards on it. He and Brian move it a few feet away from the couch and start clearing it off. Then they put throw pillows on it so it's like a makeshift mattress.

I'm lifted off the ground, my body a slack, dead weight. Before I know it, I'm on my back on the table.

I'm so disoriented I don't struggle as they take off my shoes and sock and then strip off my pants and briefs. But when my hands are pulled down by my sides and I feel my wrists being tied together under the table, I start to squirm. I lift my head and am about to protest, but a strong hand eases it back down, and then the little bottle is back to my nose and I'm floating again.

*It feels so good.*

*You're already drunk.*

*Why not just let go?*

When the spinning subsides and my head clears a bit, I realize Eric has my knees bent and legs spread. His shirt is off now and his abs are – dang, does he have an eight-pack? His white Calvin Kleins are showing about two or three inches over his jeans and stands out against his deep tan. I don't know why, but I think about the 'My Calvins' comment Shanna made earlier and I laugh, thinking how Eric is like a walking advertisement. But that thought disappears when he bends down, spreads my ass cheeks apart and buries his face in deep, once again fucking my hole with his tongue.

"Oh fuck! Mmmmm..." I take in a sharp breath and grind my ass into Eric's face. His tongue is a wet heat, insinuating itself into me in slow, deliberate stabs, and I buck, my whole body coming up off the table.

But those strong hands grip my shoulders again and hold them in place as another covers my mouth. And then the bottle – I think I heard somebody call them poppers – is put under my nose again. I don't even have to be told to inhale anymore. "Shiiitttt..." I sigh.

He's working me, his tongue sliding slowly inside me, and I'm crying out, desperate for him to push a little harder. To bore a bit deeper. I feel my hole spasm and then slowly relax, and he pushes his tongue further inside. I'm moving like crazy, grinding my hips, and I feel myself coming undone. He rubs at my spit-slicked hole with his thumb, encouraging it to open to him, and then slides his tongue inside again.

*It feels so good.*

*You're already drunk.*

*Why not just let go?*

I whimper and go slack. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God," I cry out as his tongue flexes deep inside me, and my hole, quivering and spasming, finally opens for him.

*Just... Let... Go...*

"Jackpot," I hear Eric say, and I feel his words inside me. Then he touches my entrance with the tip of his finger.

I'm done for.

***

Nobody has ever touched me there before. Well, except during a Physical I had to take for football just before my senior year

Doc Miller had been our family doctor forever. He was probably in his late 50s. Older than my parents, for sure.

He'd run through all the standard tests and had just finished the always dreaded 'turn your head and cough' thing – dang, but his fingers were cold – and was writing on my chart. I figured he was done so I stepped into my briefs and grabbed my shirt.

"Oh, we're not finished yet," he said, setting down the clipboard. "I've got to do a prostate exam."

I didn't know what the heck a prostate was so I just nodded and stood there in my underwear holding my shirt.

He patted the exam table. "I need you back up here and to lie down." I did as he said and jumped when I felt his hands on the waistband of my briefs.

"These need to come off," he instructed, and he began to lower my underwear. I automatically raised my hips for him as he skimmed them down my legs. Then he lifted one of my legs and put my foot into a metal stirrup.

"Um, what's that for?" I asked as he did the same to my other foot. I was now spread wide and fully exposed and hoped to God the nurse didn't walk in.

"This is how I do the test," he stated, as if it should be obvious to me, putting on a rubber glove and squirting some kind of jelly onto his finger. The next thing I knew he was lifting my balls out of the way and pushing his finger inside me!

Holy crap it hurt! I gasped and grabbed the sides of the table, my head slamming against it as I clenched my hole tight against the invading digit. "Unngghh!!"

"This won't take long," he said. "And it won't hurt if you just relax."

Relax?! I managed to steady my breathing and calm down some, and eventually he had his finger all the way inside. He crooked it or something and I don't know what happened because it was like stars suddenly exploded behind my eyes! My body bucked and my grip on the sides of the exam table tightened until my knuckles were white.

"Wha..."

"That's your prostate gland," he said, as he moved his finger around a bit. Every time he did, it nudged something that made that crazy feeling come back and suddenly – oh my gosh! – I was hard as a rock! I sat up on my elbows and stared down at my dick, shocked and yet mesmerized at how it was pulsing and twitching. Doc Miller looked up from where he was positioned between my outspread legs at the end of the table. I met his gaze and he gave me a reassuring smile. I felt my face go scarlet.

"Don't worry, Clayton," he said, as if reading my mind. He always called me by my full name, but now, for some reason, it made me feel like a little kid. "That's a natural reaction. Happens to everybody."

I didn't care if it happened to everybody – stuff like that didn't happen to me! I was so embarrassed that I was throwing a boner in front of another guy. I laid back down and put my arms up over my eyes, wishing the earth would open up and swallow me.

Then I felt him take my nut sac in one hand, his finger still inside me, and start rolling and gently squeezing my balls like he did earlier for the cough test. I felt a weird tingling starting behind my balls and start moving up my shaft. Oh no...

I sat back up on my elbows. "Uh, Doc." I gasped, my voice about an octave higher than normal and coming out in a pant. "If you keep that up I'm gonna – "

But I didn't get a chance to finish because all of a sudden I was coming! The first stream hit me right in the face! The second and third blasts got my chin and chest, and the rest spattered my stomach and abs.

I was speechless. Stunned. I'd just jizzed all over my face. In front of my doctor!

"Oh dear," he said with a cough and I'm pretty sure I heard him chuckle. He opened a packet of wet wipes and began to clean me up.

"I can do that," I said sheepishly, grabbing a handful of the moist towelettes, still mortified at what had just happened.

I cleaned up and started to get dressed. Thankfully Doc Miller was too busy writing on my chart to notice I was still erect as I tucked myself into my briefs.

"Is there anything I need to be worried about?" I asked as I slipped into my jeans.

He looked up at me. "No, not at all, Clayton. Like I said, it's routine for a boy your age. If you'd like, I can have your Mother come back here and I can explain it to you both. I think I saw her in the waiting room, didn't I?"

"No!" I practically shouted. There was NO way I wanted my Mom to know I spooged all over myself during a physical! "I mean, yes, she's out there. No, you don't need to explain anything."

***

A gentle slap on my butt brings me back to the present and I look between my bent knees to see Eric smiling up at me. I don't like the look on his face.

"Knock, knock," he says as he places his finger to my wet hole again. He presses lightly and I brace for the onslaught of pain I know is coming. But my hole betrays me and opens readily for his finger.

I swear I can feel him smile as his finger slips easily all the way inside. There's something slippery and cold dripping on my hole, but it warms within seconds of contact. Eric probes delicately at first, making small, circular motions, and keeps it up for what seems like several minutes, the movements getting increasingly wider, before a second finger joins the first.

He's got two fingers in me and he's twisting and scissoring them to open me up. I wince with pain when I feel the slight stretch, but then fingers scrabble over my still hard nipples, Jason's thumb is back on the head of my wet cock, and I'm distracted from the pain, instead reveling in the pleasure of the dick and nipple play. And of course, that little magic bottle.

As Eric continues his work below my waist, Jason mauls my nipples and teases my cock until I'm practically screaming. I need to shoot but again, he must sense this because he eases back and removes his hands completely, waiting for my erection to subside. He does this again and again and again. The first few times my boner goes soft, but after a while I stay hard and he just mercilessly teases me. I've got to come so badly. I push my hips up toward his evading fingers, while Eric's fingers – three now – are still in my hole. He's laughing triumphantly as my sphincter muscles clamp down on his fingers, trapping them inside me.

"Oh, yeah. He's into it for sure," he says. "He's all ready for you, Mr. Turner."

I'm not listening to what Eric is saying because I'm too distracted by what Jason is doing to me. He's got me so on edge with the way he's working over my dick and licking my nipples that I don't pay attention to Frank until I look up and see him standing between my spread legs. He's naked and hairy and just gross. He's putting on a condom and my eyes go wide at the realization.

I inhale sharply when I feel the blunt tip of his cock against my hole and despite my drunk and dazed condition, my body automatically tenses and I clench. Almost instantly the poppers are pushed against my nostril.

"Breathe," Eric coaxes. "Breathe deep." I obey without question.

Within moments the now familiar rush sweeps over me and I feel like I'm floating and sinking deep into the pillows at the same time. My whole body is tingling and electric and when Frank's dick pushes past that ring of muscle, Eric puts the bottle back to my nose and I snort for all it's worth.

Either I'm so high from the poppers or I pass out, because the next thing I know my body is shuddering and shaking and Frank is thrusting in and out of me. Oh my God, I'm being fucked. I'm being fucked? Frank is fucking me. Oh my God, Frank is fucking me!

I don't know how long he's been inside me. His hands are gripping my hips tightly and he's ramming into me in short, hard jabs.

I close my eyes and try to think of something else, of being somewhere else – hell, of ANYTHING other than the fact that Frank is fucking me – but every time he plunges into me I'm jarred back. I can't believe this is happening to me.

He's speeding up and it's like he's trying to hurt me. And it does hurt, but every now and then his cock hits something and little currents of electricity run up and down my dick, which has started to leak again.

I'm shocked and repulsed and also a little curious why I'm feeling that tingling flutter when I suddenly remember Doc Miller and the physical and my prostate and ... oh no! "Noo... Ohhh...!"

But Frank's seemed to be hitting his rhythm more now, because he's starting to hit my prostate more frequently and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Unnnghhhh... fuck..."

I'm arching my back now and when I open my eyes I see my dick is hard and it's bouncing and slapping against my flat belly. I stare at it blankly. Why is my dick hard?

Then I realize Frank has been talking to me.

"What's your passcode, Clay?" he asks.

"Huh?" I grunt, still lost in the slap, slap, slap of my dick against my stomach.

"Your phone," he says, waving my iPhone in front of my face. "What's your passcode?"

I don't know why, but I rattle off the numbers between pained gasps.

"What's that?" he asks. "I didn't get it all."

I try to repeat it, but my voice is a cross between a moan and a wail.

"Here, let me," Eric says. He takes my phone from Frank and presses my thumb against the sensor. "It's got a fingerprint sensor."

"Good job," Frank says, still thrusting hard and I feel a tingling in my balls. No...

"Go to his contacts," he orders. "I want names, numbers, email addresses, social media – everything – for his family and friends. Everybody. All their info."

"Ha, check this out," Eric says. I look up and he's looking at something on my phone. He must be in my emails because there's a photo of me from earlier today on the screen. It's one of the pictures Shanna said she was going to email to me.

Eric flicks through them one by one, each time holding the phone up for everybody to see. Along with some of the editorial-ready pictures Shanna took, it looks she decided to include a few of the more racy ones, too. Photos where my briefs are lowered and exposing pubic hair in some and my butt crack in others. Photos where my boner is obvious.

"I think I'm going to post this one to your Instagram," Eric says with an evil looking smile. He taps the screen. "Hmm... let's see. What should the caption say? I got it: 'What do you all think of my hashtag slutty side? Let me know if you want to see more.' Ha!" He taps a couple more times and then shows me.

Oh my God! In the shot I'm sitting against a wall – my right knee is bent and drawn to my chest and my other leg is outstretched. My legs are slightly spread and the pouch of my briefs is full and on display. My right arm is wrapped around my bent knee while my left hand is resting on my inner thigh, right next to my bulge. It's obvious I have a hard-on. But it's the look on my face – something my Mom would call a 'come hither' look – that makes it look even sleazier.

"I think they like your slutty side," Eric says. "Look, you already have over thirty likes."

Just then Frank shifts his body and changes his angle as he drives into me. I gasp and moan and it feels like I'm going to come!

"No... no..." I shake my head. I can't come! Not like this. Not with Frank inside me. No! I clench my fists and squeeze my eyes shut but the sensation keeps building and building...

"Ungh... ungh... ungh... ungh... UNGH!!" And all of a sudden I'm coming – long, creamy jets shooting up my chest, and splashing against my neck and chin.

"Holy shit!" Eric practically shouts. "I've never seen anybody come without touching themselves before."

He looks at me, "Dude, how fucking horny are you? He totally fucked a load right out of you!!"

I'm mortified. I can't believe I came. It's ... I ... What does that mean?

Everybody laughs and there are more rude comments. I'm lying here, panting and trying to catch my breath, with my legs still over Frank's shoulders as he continues to pummel into me. My stomach, abs and chest are covered in my cum. Oh yeah, and my dick is still hard.

And then Frank comes. It's a hard shudder I feel in my core. He leans forward, scooping up some of my load from where it's pooling on my belly and abs – cumgutters, Eric calls them – and wipes it on my face, smearing it across my lips and under my nose.

"Hmm... I think you'd look better wearing mine," Frank says, giving me a looks like he's appraising me. "Next time."

***

I'm still catching my breath when I'm pushed back a few inches on the table until there's nothing under my head but Eric's hand. Jason tells him to slowly let my head down and bend all the way back. That way, he says, when my mouth is open, his cock can penetrate past my throat and choke reflexes. I don't know what he means by choke reflexes, but I don't have time to think because Eric slides his dick in my mouth – all the way in – and sort of lodges it in the back of my throat!

I panic. There's a dick in my mouth! Oh my God, this isn't happening!

Eric's ball sac is resting on my nose. I can smell it along with the cum Frank smeared across my lips and under my nose. It's pungent and I try not to gag.

"Breathe through your mouth, Clay," Jason instructs. He's staring directly at me.

I try but I can't breathe, and I must pass out or something, because the next thing I know my wrists are untied and I'm being repositioned on my hands and knees on the table. But I'm still drunk and weak and I can't support myself so I collapse down on my forearms, my head resting on them and my ass up in the air. I feel two fingers slide into my hole and I open my eyes with a jolt.

I look back and see Jason. He's got a condom on and he's slicking it up with something. He pulls his fingers out of me, gives me a wink, and plunges right in.

"Oh fuck!" I gasp. I feel the push against my muscle. He's much bigger than Frank and I start to whimper when I feel the burn of the stretch. But the poppers are at my nose again and the searing quickly fades.

"Again," Eric coaxes, and I inhale. There's no pain now as Jason pushes all the way inside, just an odd sensation of feeling filled up. Full. I gasp.

He holds my hips and stands completely still. He's buried deep inside me, but for some reason he isn't moving. It's as if he's letting me get used to him. To his length and girth. It starts to hurt a little but Eric is holding the poppers out for me and I sniff some more. Jason must be able to tell when they take effect, because he begins to slowly move inside me.

"Oh fuck," I say softly, as his cock immediately finds my prostate as if there's some kind of homing beacon attached to it. Unlike Frank, Jason seems to know exactly what he's doing. He nudges my prostate again – a gentle, persistent battering – and it's like a light suddenly turning on. I moan, but not in pain. No, this definitely isn't pain. This is ... what?

"Ohhhh... unngghh..." I can't help but moan, low and breathy. Whatever Jason is doing to me back there is sending ripples of pure pleasure straight to my brain. Something turns over deep inside of me, kind of like when the engine on an old car finally catches, and it's as if a fire has been sparked and is threatening to blaze out of control.

"Unnhh... Yes..." I groan, as a river of pleasure washes over me, coursing up and down from the base of my spine to my scalp and then to my dick. "Oh ... yes ... fuck me ..."

Fuck me? What the hell?!? Did I say that out loud? He thrusts again, once more hitting that sweet spot and eliciting another groan of pleasure from me.