4 comments/ 207696 views/ 11 favorites Boy By: clan I called him boy. Boy, of course, wasn’t really accurate as he was legally an adult - he was however 35 years younger than I was. His name was Andy. I never called him that. Just boy. I was a more or less contented married man in my early fifties. My two children had finished high school. My son was interstate at college while my daughter had moved into an apartment with some friends in a nearby suburb. I’d recently resigned a managerial job with a large company and was operating a one-person consultancy from home and doing satisfactorily at it. My wife was still working long hours in a senior government position. We’d been married for 30 years. Before getting together we’d each had a little sexual experience but basically we’d learnt about sex together and enjoyed it in a variety of forms and places. We weren’t staid or conservative and we thought we were rather sexually adventurous although not too much so. Over the years we’d had the usual ups and downs; my wife had had 3 or 4 affairs that I knew of, one of which was quite serious and which had at the time hurt me deeply. Probably she had had other sexual adventures as well which I never discovered. For my part I had enjoyed a number of end-of-conference one-night stands, some of which she suspected and one longer-term relationship with a work colleague that I was sure she never knew about. We’d muddled through these episodes as well as anyone and we could still kiss and cuddle and say with truth to each other ‘I love you’. Yet, like many of our age, generation and experience we were slowly and quite comfortably, drifting apart. Sex between us became more and more infrequent. I was finding that my erections were not as hard and that sometimes I was impotent. I was thinking about the need for Viagra when sex between us just petered out and my performance was no longer an issue. It wasn’t that I thought less about sex. On the contrary, I seemed to think of little else. Some days, alone in my home office, I would put off work and spend the entire time on the Net, surfing porn sites participating in chat rooms and masturbating, two, three or four times a day. My cyber-sexual interests were extraordinarily varied and I was finding myself turned on by almost everything available in the vicarious cornucopia of sex available on the World Wide Web. I surprised even myself with the way I behaved in chat rooms and in the email dalliances I pursued. I always pretended to be someone else and although I knew that this was supposed to be normal cyber practice, I was taken aback at how naturally and easily I fell into the habit. Sometimes I would be young woman, leading on men my own age; sometimes an older woman seducing would be and inexperienced studs. Sometimes I would act the submissive, at others I was a master and occasionally I chanced a foray into bisexuality, gay roles and fetishism. Much of this was new to me; all turned me on to greater or lesser degree. I was in this state of heightened sexual awareness when it happened. My daughter came to dinner with her new boyfriend, a boy she had been at school with. ‘Dad, this is Andy,’ she introduced him to me at the door. ‘Hi Andy,’ I responded mechanically as a plethora of images, thoughts and sensations felt like they were melting my synapses and I, a calm, rational, normal person, tried to wrestle with what this meant. The boy was ordinary. He was smallish and slight, almost girlish looking, badly cut blondish hair, and with nervous jerky movements. Only his eyes seemed remarkable: piercingly pale blue and large. He was dressed in fashionable grunge that concealed the detail of his body. He was nothing like my daughter’s previous boyfriends and was I guess the sort of young man one would normally not even register as he passed by in the street many times every day. And I, except for my recent cyber curiosity, as far as I knew myself, a totally heterosexual middle-aged man, was standing there feeling my nipples tingle unbearably and my cock growing, as I desperately wanting to touch this boy. And what is more, what was frightening and overwhelming to me, was that immediately I looked into his eyes, I knew that he knew I wanted him. And I knew that he knew that I knew. The meal went by in a daze. I kept looking at the boy while my mouth spouted the usual family dinner conversation. We locked eyes several times but apart from a reinforcement of the knowledge that he knew, I could read nothing in them. I tried to match my trip to the bathroom to his so I could grab a second or two alone just to see if my feelings were right although I had no idea what I would say. I just knew I had to say something. As the night wound up and they prepared to leave I surreptitiously took one of my business cards, wrote ‘call me’ on it, and as I shook hands goodbye with him I passed it to him. I saw him look at it, read it and put it in his pocket without any sort of response to me. My daughter and the boy left. And then immediately I was in agony. How could I have been so stupid? Clearly I had misread the situation and now he would tell my daughter about my foolishness. I was undone. I went to bed and tossed and turned all night thinking of the pain and cost of the forthcoming exposure of my stupidity and trying to think up plausible, non-sexual, reasons for asking him to call. I wanted to offer him some part-time work; I could assist him to meet someone he had expressed interest in meeting over dinner, something like that perhaps. I finally slept. In the morning I still felt nervous but as the day wore on I began to realise nothing was going to happen. I put it down to a learning experience and told myself never to be so stupid again. Then the doorbell rang. The boy was standing there. ‘You wanted me to call.’ ‘Come in,’ I said, holding the door for him. He was more nervous than last night and I knew then that I was on safe ground. I took his hand and led him into my office. He didn’t resist and followed me quietly. I knew that the soft stroke of his finger against my wrist was his sign of agreement and I stopped and turned him to face me. My cock was as hard as if I was 20 again. ‘Stay there boy,’ I said, surprised at the words I uttered and their form as well as at the certainty in my mind of what I was going to do, ‘Don’t move.’ He looked into my eyes and without speaking communicated his submission to me. I dragged his sweater over his head and then his T-shirt. He was so small and frail. His ribs showed clearly through his white almost translucent skin; his nipples’ pinkness the only contrast. I flicked one of them with my fingernail and he shivered and a smile played around his mouth. I pulled off his sneakers and slowly dragged his trousers down over his hips. He wasn’t wearing the boxers I had anticipated but a black satin thong, clearly originally meant for a woman. His cock, stood up strongly against the shiny material and a wet spot was visible on it. His body was hairless and smooth. I groaned as I clasped him and then slowly stroked my way down his torso feeling the swell of his buttocks, then round the front to touch his satin clad balls and finally the hard small cock. I knelt in front of him and lowered my mouth to it. Now he groaned and arched his back. I licked softly, then scrabbled down the panties, freeing the five erect inches and letting my wet and waiting mouth find its nirvana. I licked my way down the shaft, glorying in its feel, its taste its shape. As I moved my head up and down, licking, sucking and worshipping him, my right hand moved to caress his still satin cupped balls while my left rose to rub and flick a nipple. He lasted but a few minutes and I suddenly felt his spasm before he gushed into my mouth and I welcomed his semen as if it was his spirit. I sucked until he stopped. I felt him gently shaking. I looked up at him, his spent cock still softly in my mouth. There were tears running freely down both his cheeks. My story of boy will be continued... Boy You may not know it, looking at me now, but I used to be quite something. Thirty years ago, Jim Callaghan was in No 10, Jimmy Carter was in the White House, and I was in my prime. Late thirties, the kids leaving home, and a body shaped by tennis and swimming. Well, there wasn't much else to do, I didn't have to work, not with the salary Derek was earning, so I spent my time keeping the home and toning myself. For what, I don't know, since Derek's workload left little left for me other than a Sunday morning Missionary. I had to get good with my fingers, since "marital aids" were so hard to come by, and so crude compared with what's available now. Frustrating? Oh yes. I'd managed to persuade Derek to take a holiday. We'd rented a gîte in the Dordogne for three whole weeks. It was in the middle of nowhere, nothing much to do but enjoy the local restaurants (I've never eaten so much foie gras in such short time), drink the local wine, and lounge by the pool reading trashy detective novels. The gîte itself consisted of two separate holiday homes, sharing the pool. We were in the smaller of the two, since it was just me and Derek. The other had been rented by a typical nuclear family -- father, mother, older boy, younger girl. Pretty dull, really, the father was into dragging them around the countryside every day when it was clear the others just wanted to lounge by the pool. The boy was interesting though -- eighteen, just finished his A-levels, and impossibly shy. Ben, his name was. After a few days, I managed to get him to talk to my face rather than my (admittedly) magnificent boobs, and he got quite chatty. I don't think he'd had much experience of girls, he'd spent seven years in an all boys school, and was waiting for a University place. Eventually, we all settled into a routine in our little community. Derek, bereft of his work, and out of contact with the office, would drink most of the morning, and sleep most of the afternoon. Ben managed to get out of the family trips, and stay behind while they spent the day going round churches and vineyards. And I would keep him company by the pool. It was hot that summer, and the pool was welcome. Ben and I would alternate between dips in the pool and lounging in the sun. We'd talk, and read, and doze when it got too hot. And, of course, I would flirt. Well, what's a girl to do? After all, Derek was useless to me. Either drunk or asleep, I was reduced to sneaking off at times during the day to take care of things myself, not helped by continually seeing Ben in a pair of almost-but-not-quite-too-tight swimming trunks. He wasn't bad looking, I was thinking, and not just because he was only shaggable male within a five mile radius. He was also a good conversationalist, once he got going. Just needed the practice, I suppose. One afternoon, the third, I think, I asked him to help me with the suntan lotion. Inevitable, really. I lay on my front, waiting while he fussed with the bottle, and had to suppress a sigh at the first touch of his hands. Very tentative at first -- I could actually feel him trembling -- but firmer once he realised that I wasn't going to break. I started to drift off at the touch of his hands on my back, although it was clear that the straps of my bikini top were hampering his stroke. As I raised myself to reach behind and undo them, I found myself face to face, as it were, with a very interesting bulge in his trunks. Maybe that was when I made my decision. I'm afraid I made my intentions obvious that evening. Ben's family had gone out for a meal, Derek and I had stayed behind, and eaten by the pool. Eating had merged into the disposal of a couple of bottles of burgundy, and we were well into the third when the others returned. Only Ben took up the invitation to join us, and soon Derek was snoring, leaving the remaining bottle to just Ben and me. I went to powder my nose, and having done the necessary returned to my sun lounger, Ben's eyes following me all the way. I had thrown a cotton wrap-around dress over my bikini, stopping above the knee, and as I sat back I put my feet up, raise my knees and nonchalantly allowed my knees to drift apart. There was no mistaking the moment Ben realised what I'd "forgotten". Now, these days, I gather, there's a thriving industry in pubic barbering, but back then it wouldn't have occurred to us to do anything but to let that area run free. Being a natural redhead, I was blessed with a lush, fiery bush around my nether regions -- so much so that on those rare occasions I could get Derek to go down there he'd always make the same joke about jungles and machetes. Now, I was displaying this jungle to this innocent young lad. And was he taking in the display? Oh yes. I could feel myself moistening, and my lips swelling and opening, preparing for the animal act of mating. He too was getting into the feral spirit, the shape of his generous equipment becoming deliciously defined in his light cotton trousers. I was looking straight at his crotch, and licking my lips, when I noticed that we'd both gone quiet. I looked up. He looked up. Our eyes met. That was the point Derek decided to wake up. I snapped my legs shut, and made myself decent, and Ben moved to hide his predicament. The moment was lost. I allowed Derek to drag me to bed -- alas, to sleep, although I did wait for the snoring to resume so I could take care of myself again. Looking back as I went into the house, I blew Ben a goodnight kiss, and winked. The die was cast. The next day, the trip to the market having left without an oversleeping Ben, I suggested to Derek that he might want to go and spend a day tasting wine at the cave in the next valley. I cried off with a hangover-induced headache, and by about 9:30, Ben was left alone to my tender mercies. He was lounging by the pool already. I went to change into the same sundress I'd worn the night before, and then went out to join him. I felt as taut as a wire, desperate for what I was about to set into train, and I was in no mood to wait. "Ben, it looks like it's going to be hot," I said, handing him the Ambre Soleil. "Could you do the honours for me again?" "Er, sure", he replied. I stood in front of him, loosened the straps holding my sundress up, and let it slide to the ground. He looked. He swallowed. And went bright red. "Er, you're, er ... you have no clothes ..." "No, I haven't," I told him, softly. "Don't be afraid. I'll look after you." We stood, a few feet apart. He was looking at my breasts, stiff-nippled and flushed, and my pudenda, streaming damp beneath the foliage. I was looking at his rapidly tightening trunks. I dropped a towel on the hard slabs, in front of him, and dropped to my knees. He groaned as I slipped my fingers into his waistband and slowly drew his trunks down his thighs. Gradually, the object of my desire came into view, shaft pointing downwards until completely free, when it sprang up, pointing skywards with the vigour of youth, hard as iron, with a gentle tear resting on the tip. Fully exposed too, my first encounter with a circumcised cock -- I remembered him mentioning his family were Jewish. Wrapping my fingers around him, I relished the velvet rigidity, the heat and the slight twitching engendered by my touch. Unusually for me, I had an overwhelming urge to taste him, and washed my tongue to gather up the drop of precum at the end. We both moaned simultaneously as I opened my mouth, engulfing him and tipping him deep into the back of my throat. This was too much for him, and probably with fifteen seconds of my first touch he was spilling himself into me, and I was frantically swallowing. He slumped back onto the nearest sun lounger, gasping and catching his breath. I sat next to him, putting my arm around him. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you," he said, eventually. "Hey ... no problem. I liked it. And don't worry about being too quick. That's natural at your age. It'll slow you down for the next round. Here. Let's go." I stood, took his hand, and dragged him up to the bedroom Derek and I were sharing. Not that he needed much dragging. I could go into all sorts of details of our antics over the next few days. I taught him the finer points of cunnilingus, and eventually, when he stopped rooting around like one of the local truffle pigs, he got exceptionally good at it. I managed to do down on him and get him to hold on long enough to make it enjoyable for me, for probably the first time in my life. And, of course, he fucked me. The first time, I made him lie back and let me do all the work, crouched over him, talking him softly through the exquisite removal of his virginity. He lasted almost two minutes before filling me with his hot seed -- this was before the days of HIV and pill scares, of course. Having got that out of the way, he was treated to an intensive Fucking for Beginners course, graduating with flying colours. On top, from behind, swinging from the chandeliers, you name it, we did it. Derek was usually out at the bar -- I was amazed how easy it became to give him a few francs and not see him until dinner time -- so we had hours to ourselves. We could even hear any approaching car, warning of someone's return and giving up enough time to make ourselves decent. Mind you, we didn't bank on Derek having a fit of conscience one afternoon, and decide he'd had too much to drive. The first we knew of his return was the slamming of the front door. I've never seen anyone move so fast as Ben as he leapt from the bed and onto the balcony, just in time before Derek burst into the room. Seeing me in bed in the afternoon, he go completely the wrong idea, tore off his clothes and jumped on me. By now, I was used to the enthusiasm of youth, so Derek's rather feeble effort rather paled into comparison. Still, I was receptive. Well lubricated too. I wonder if Derek noticed. Ben had to stay on the balcony until Derek had finished, and, flushed with alcohol and endorphins, started his usual snoring. When we were sure he was out for the count, I beckoned Ben through and he tiptoed out of the room and back out to the pool. I joined him a few minutes later, and we behaved ourselves for the rest of the day. Well, apart from the quick blowjob behind the bushes, out of sight of the house, that is. I was sad to see Ben go home at the end of the week. But I noticed the difference when he shook my hand goodbye, watched by his unsuspecting family. He stood taller, more confident. I went home, and pined for a while. This was in the days before the Internet and mobile phones, before long distance illicit relationships were as easy as they are now. But then I met Adrian at the tennis club, and soon got over it all. I may have taken Ben's innocence, but he also broke a duck for me, and Derek never suspected the succession of young lovers I took over the next few years. Mind you, shortly after he keeled over with a heart attack I discovered that he'd been keeping a mistress even before that long hot holiday, so I didn't feel too guilty. And we had remained good friends right up to the end of our marriage, so our dalliances didn't seem to have caused much damage. I heard from Ben just once. He sent me a birthday card about six month after the holiday, and tucked inside was a photo. Taken at some Christmas party from the looks of things, Ben was shown surrounded by seven or eight pretty young girls. Five of them had red circles drawn around their faces, and on the back was an inscription. "Guess what the circles mean. Thank you for the confidence you gave me. I'll never forget you. Ben xx" Well, if you can't have fun at that age, when can you? Boy and Mistress Normally, I didn't check my personal email at work. My boss said he didn't monitor communications, but I didn't trust him. It was a Friday night, my girlfriend was out of town, and I didn't have anything to do. I was feeling a little lonely and was hoping my girlfriend sent a message saying she missed me. I scrolled down the inbox looking for her email address. Something else caught my eye. It was my mistress's email address. My lungs moved to my stomach and my stomach moved to my throat. I didn't think I was going to hear from her again. I messed up the last time I was with her. I had the nerve to forget to turn off my cell phone. I recognized my girlfriend's ringtone, got off all fours, and answered the call. When I hung up, Mistress slapped me across my face. She cut a hole in the crotch of my jeans and sent me away. Fortunately, I was able to stop at the office to change into my spare suit before I went home to my girlfriend. I sent Mistress an apology but didn't hear from her for months. I didn't know if it was going to be words of hate or the time for our next session. I felt somewhat confident when I saw very few words on the page. It meant she wasn't chastising me. It read, 'SATURDAY. 9AM. LAKE HOUSE. You were very naughty Boy. Mistress is not angry. Boy will have the chance to fulfill his ultimate fantasy. COME NAKED.' Coming naked was the least of my concerns. Whenever our sessions took place at the lake house, I had to come naked. The house was in the woods so we had no worries. My only problem was she made me park on the street. Saturday, everyone was out walking their dogs or pushing children in strollers. I had to sit in the car and wait until the coast was clear. I was several minutes late. Mistress punished by making love to me. There wasn't any cock torture or humiliation. She repeatedly told me I was the best she ever had. I lost my erection repeatedly. She tried to make me feel better instead of humiliating me. I learned to come early. I left work and began preparation for Mistress. She wanted me to look as boyish as possible. It was hard to make a 41-year-old look like a boy. I didn't even look boyish when I was a teenager. I had always been muscular and suave looking. I pulled many older women when I was growing up. I shaved off all my body hair. I hated the way it looked, but Mistress would always get what she wanted. Depending on the notice, I would try to lose a little weight to make me look skinny. I started to put on weight when I thought our arrangement ended. I would mess up my hair and usually wear sagging jeans and a wife beater to look like a punk instead of a businessman. It was cold and raining that Saturday. I hoped we wouldn't be going into the lake because my dick would end up little and shriveled. Mistress would not be happy. I always had to bring myself to erection before I went to the house. People jogged past and I would temporarily stop jerkin my cock until I was satisfied I was alone. When I was at my full length and hardness, I checked to make sure the coast was clear. I rushed past the front gate. From there on, I wasn't visible from the street. I walked casually the rest of the way. I held my cock while I walked so it wasn't bouncing around. There was an unexpected note on her door. It said go straight to the boat. I had been on her boat only once. It was too large and too nice for the lake, but a welcomed change of scenery. From that point forward, I did not hold my cock in case Mistress was watching. I climbed onto the observation deck and didn't see anyone. It was the first time I felt completely exposed. Cold rain hit me and a breeze made the water sting. My cock was completely erect and my hands were behind my back. I went down to the cabin and there was my mistress sitting naked on the couch. I ran over to her with my hands behind my back. I got down on my knees and kissed her feet. "Thank you mistress. Thank you for inviting Boy back Mistress." "Stand up," she said, jerking her feet away. "I'm glad you got my email. Good Boy. I said that you would be able to fulfill your fantasy. Does that sound good Boy?" "Yes Mistress." "What is Mistress' fantasy?" "Mistress' fantasy is to see Boy fucked by other men." "Good Boy. And what is Boy's fantasy?" "Boy's fantasy is to see Boy's girlfriend dominated by Mistress." "On your hands and knees." Mistress stood up and bent over to lift up the couch cushion. I got a spectacular view of her pussy and ass. There was a cane under the cushion. It was my least favorite device she used. She slowly walked behind me. My ass was in the air and my balls were a fair target. I could feel my cock begin to shrink. I felt the sting of the cane on my ass. It was a light hit but still painful. "Mistress' fantasies are Boy's fantasies, right?" "Yes Mistress." "What is Boy's Fantasy?" She rubbed the tip of the cane on my balls. I wanted to be sure to get the question right so that she wouldn't hit my balls with the cane. Each hit was always harder than the last. Then I felt the tip of the cane follow the path from my ball sack to my asshole. She inserted the very tip of the cane into my asshole. I could barely feel it, but then I understood the question. "Boy's fantasy is to be fucked by men." I had actually put that on the list of things I was unwilling to do when we made our arrangement. "Today is Boy's lucky day." She removed the cane from my ass. On my hands and knees, I saw a pair of hairy legs come around the corner. I wasn't supposed to look up while I was on my hands and knees so my eyes stayed fixed on the legs and large feet. My stomach immediately dropped. "Go topside Miguel," I heard Mistress say. The two legs walked past me. When I could no longer hear the footsteps, Mistress walked in front of me. "Stand up." I was almost ten inches taller than Mistress, but she could get me to do anything she wanted. Mistress walked back to the couch and lifted the cushion. I could tell she had out the string. She stood in front of me and looked at me for several seconds. I saw her begin to smile and I was starting to feel good, thinking she was happy to see Boy. Her hand smacked my face. It almost put me off balance. When I straightened up, she spit in my face. I opened my mouth just in case she had more. "Close your fucking mouth. Your fucking cock is barely hard." She reached down and started stroking my cock vigorously. I was immediately rock hard and realized how I missed her touch. The string wrapped around my cock and balls several times. She pulled it so tight it felt as if it was cutting into my skin. My balls were bright read and the head of my cock turned purple. I hated the string. It pulled my cock down instead of letting it point up freely. She held on to the end of the rope and pulled me by my cock and balls. Fortunately, the rain had stopped topside. I could see the man she called Miguel. He was in his early 20s and muscular. He was tan with wavy hair. He would have made any woman crazy. "How does Boy like the man Mistress has been spending time with since Boy fucked up?" "Boy likes him very much Mistress." "Excellent Boy. Go make Miguel hard." I looked at Miguel who had spread his legs and scooted to the edge of the chair. His balls hung over the edge. I started to feel so uncomfortable that I almost stopped. I knew Mistress would completely sever our relationship if I did that. I hastily moved towards Miguel and kneeled between his legs. His cock looked very small, even taking into consideration he was soft. I couldn't see what Mistress wanted with him. I grabbed his cock. My own was throbbing. The clouds had parted and the sun was beating down on us. My hand slid very easily up and down his cock because of the sweat that had collected there. I was hoping the other houses didn't have people bird watching on their decks. I didn't want anyone to see me on my knees stroking another man's cock. After a few strokes, I could feel his dick begin to swell. "Boy, hands behind your back," Mistress said. I saw Miguel smile. He grabbed the base of his cock and gave it a few strokes himself. He put his hand around my head and brought me forward. My mouth opened the same way it would if Mistress was going to spit on me. He moved my head down onto his cock and pushed my head slowly down his cock. I gagged, feeling its limp, softness lying against my tongue. He guided my head up slowly and then brought it back down. I could feel it getting harder and thicker by the second. At full harness, he held my head in place and began thrusting his cock in my mouth. Mistress walked over and sat beside Miguel. She took his hands from my head and put them on her breasts. I kept taking the full length of his cock. Surprisingly, it was probably 8 inches. Mistress flicked her tongue against Miguel's and their lips pressed together. I wanted to bite down on his cock and have mistress all to myself. Jealousy was starting to and I was about to explode. Her skin was glistening in the sun. The sun reflecting off the boat illuminated her beautiful golden tan. The wind blew out her hair. She looked amazing and I wanted her attention, but I kept sucking that fucking asshole's cock. Miguel violated Mistress for several long minutes. I knew there was no way he could satisfy her like Boy. Miguel leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and I continued to swallow his cock with my hands still behind my back. "That's really good Boy," she said standing next to me. "Boy is enjoying sucking cock more than Mistress thought." She pushed me hard and I fell over onto the deck. "On your fucking back. Spread your fucking legs." I did as told. The string kept my cock from going soft while I sucked Miguel's cock. I hated the experience. She walked over to me and started jerking off my cock with her toes. The red polish on her big toe reminded me of the time she let me cum on her feet. I felt a surge in my cock and my body jumped. "Boy likes sucking dick. Boy is rock hard after swallowing Miguel's man cock." She ran her toe from the tip of my cock, down my shaft and balls, and to my asshole. I felt her putting pressure on it with her toe. We had not explored that area. The skin around my puckered ass hole was so sensitive to her touch. I felt my cock growing wider causing the string to tug tighter. "Boy's fantasy is about to come true. Boy acted so ugly last time that he still has to be punished. Mistress knows how much Boy wants a cock shoved into his ass so Mistress won't punish Boy by taking that away. Boy is going to take every inch of Miguel's cock with only Boy's spit as lube." My eyes widened and I stared at Mistress. I almost didn't believe her, but Mistress doesn't lie She waved for Miguel to come over. Mistress bent down and cut the string from my cock and balls. My balls fell so much relief as they hung in their normal position and my cock rested against my stomach. Miguel stroked his cock between his thumb and forefinger. Then he grabbed it by the base and put it against my balls. He bounced my sack up and down with the tip of his cock. I felt pre cum dribbling onto my stomach. The sensation was incredible. "Hold your ass open Boy." I grabbed my ass with both of my hands and spread my cheeks as wide as I could. Miguel rubbed his cock head up and down as if he was rubbing the slit of a pussy. I had anal sex with my x-wife and girlfriend so I knew lube was necessary. He pressed his cock against my asshole. My sphincter muscles gave him some resistance. He put his hands to my side and got on top of me in missionary position. I felt like some scared girl about to lose her virginity. Soon he thrust his cock into me really hard and grunted. I felt tearing pain as his cock shoved deep into my bowels. He closed his eyes as if they were burning from pleasure. I wanted to knock him off me, but my hands never left my ass. He gave me slow hard thrusts. His cock stimulated my prostate and pain turned to pleasure. I noticed a shadow move in front of me and I opened my eyes. Mistress was lowering her pussy to my face. I stuck out my tongue to taste her sweet pussy juice. It was a treat for Mistress to let Boy taste her. I held out my tongue and let the rhythm of Miguel's thrusting guide my tongue across her pussy. I let go of my ass with one hand and put my thumb against her clit. She grinded against my thumb. I could taste her juices flowing into my mouth. I knew she was going to cum soon. She sat completely on my face and I couldn't breath. I turned my head from side to side, hoping my nose rubbing her slit was getting her off. She put her hands on my chest and moved her pelvis back and forth. I felt her body spasm and shiver over my face. She rocked forward a few more times, and then lifted herself off, my face covered in cum Reality hit me as I was gasping for air. Mistress had already cum, so I wasn't going to be able to fuck Mistress and I had a cock balls deep in my ass. Miguel kept plowing away at my ass as if he didn't realize Mistress came. I watched Mistress walk over to the bench. She clapped her hands for Miguel to stop. Miguel pulled out of me and sat beside her. I felt emptiness that I wanted filled. I stayed on my back with my cheeks spread wide. My asshole contracted and relaxed into its gaping position. "Get up Boy. Come ride Miguel's cock." I did as told. I felt silly being a grown man sitting in this guy's lap. He just sat there with his legs spread and his hard cock pointed up. I could never last that long at his age. I had women in that position so man times but felt awkward doing it myself. I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. I put one leg on each side of him and lowered myself down. Miguel grabbed my cock and rubbed it on his cock head. Some of our pre cum mixed. I positioned myself over his cock and he pointed it towards my gaping asshole. I had to let him in my ass instead of having my asshole virginity taken by force. It was fulfilling having his cock sliding up my ass. I held my ass to make it easier to slide his cock in and out. Miguel put his hands behind his head and watched me in action. I started working faster on his cock. I looked at Mistress and saw how pleased Mistress was. I worked faster. Mistress leaned over, grabbed my cock, and started stroking expertly. With every stroke, I could feel cum building, ready to pop all over Miguel's stomach. Mistress let go of my cock and I immediately took over. I squeezed my hand tightly around my cock, but imagined it was Mistress' tight pussy. I jerked it so hard and fast that it took me less than ten strokes to cum. Streams of hot, white, creamy cum went all over Miguel's stomach. I looked down at my work. It was the biggest load I produced in a long time. I collapsed onto Miguel's chest as he bucked his cock into my ass. I felt my balls draw up into my body and drop back down. It hurt feeling Miguel drill into my ass after I came. When I could hardly stand it, he grabbed me by the waist and pushed me down hard on his cock. My ass hole contracted around his cock as he slowly pulled me up. My ass felt slick as he pulled his cock out of my ass. Cum dripped out of my gaping hole and Miguel pushed me off him. "That was good Boy. Lick Miguel clean." It was so humiliating. I lapped up my cum like a dog drinking out of a lake. The taste was fowl, but I swallowed it all. I felt how hard Miguel's stomach was with my tongue. I started feeling self-conscious about the softness of my belly. I was going to work on myself for Mistress. "That was excellent Boy. I am happy your fantasy came true." "Thank you Mistress. Boy enjoyed it." "Until next time, Boy. Leave me here with Miguel." I felt jealousy rise in me again. I wanted to knock Miguel into the water, but I couldn't even look at the guy who just fucked my ass. My cock was shrinking so decided it was best to leave. On my way to the car, I could still feel Miguel's cum leaking out of me. I felt like such a cock whore. My asshole was throbbing. My cock didn't even get to pleasure Mistress. I still didn't like cock, but if Mistress wanted me to take another cock, I would spread my legs again. I went back home and spread out on the couch. I never bothered to dress. I replayed the day in my head and jerked off. I shot cum all over my chest and thought about my cum covering Miguel's stomach. I fell into a blissful sleep.