AC-291 SLAVE BROTHER CHICKEN by Barton Lewis



CHAPTER ONE



Sam "The Slammer" stiffened as he watched his thick cock disappear down lanky Lonnie's throat.



"Yeah, man, you're gettin' pretty good at that," he whispered in the dimness of the attic bedroom. The few stubble hairs on Lonnie's adolescent chin tickled his balls, especially when Sam pushed his brother's face down hard in his crotch. Lonnie choked on his stiff prickmeat, but didn't pull back; he knew it would soon be his turn.



Sam felt the broad head of his prick pushing through the opening to his brother's throat, and he groaned softly, beginning to tremble close to orgasm. "Geez, Lonnie, that's great! Oh, yeah, suck it hard, squeeze my balls!" He thrust upward in quivering tension, but then groaned on the brink as the boy's mouth pulled back, leaving his cock straining damply in the air.



"It's your turn, Sam, you promised! You came last night, and then didn't want to do it to me! Suck me for a change, damn you!"



"Yeah, okay, turn around here," Sam reluctantly agreed. But when his brother's long cock was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth, he forgot his hesitation. The hot pulsing cockhead slid excitingly between his lips and into his throat, leaving a train of sweet pre-cum on his tongue and an increasing stirring in his brain. Lonnie's cock was longer than his but not so thick. There was a gentle curve in it which made it easier to swallow when in a sixty-nine position, as they were at that moment.



Lonnie thrust a long, slim thigh under Sam's head for comfort and felt his prick gripped in his brother's welcoming throat. He moaned happily and began to suck Sam's thick, straight cockshaft.



Sam was a high school senior and already hairy. Lonnie liked the scratchiness of the hairy thighs close around his head as he sucked his older brother. Lonnie was a little younger and had only a fine brown down over his long legs. To emphasize his cock-length, he shoved all the way into the warm haven, feeling his balls mash against his brother's chin before he pulled back again.



Sam gurgled and gasped from the long prick. His stubby forefinger jabbed his brother's asshole; he was still thinking about the stories he had read where guys fucked other guys in the ass. But Lonnie pulled away, silently refusing to experiment. Sam gripped the boy's firm buns and pulled him close, both cocks probing deeply. Both boys began to moan without realizing it, their peaks building as they sucked each other. It had always been that way since they started playing around about a year ago. Sam had initiated sex together, but Lonnie had always insisted on a fifty-fifty deal. He wouldn't do anything unless Sam did the same to him, but they got along fine that way.



Lonnie shifted position in the narrow bed, straddling Sam lying beneath him. Lonnie's trim ass reared high because of the extra long legs so effective on the basketball court. At the moment, they were trembling with growing excitement as their long cocks thrust in and out of each other's happy mouth. They both slurped hungrily on the rigid pricks. Suddenly, a gasp and a low moan were heard, coming from across the room. The two athletes stopped abruptly, their mouths full of stiff prick, and then looked up in surprise.



"Andy?" Lonnie whispered. They had forgotten their younger brother in their passion, but when they looked his way, they could dimly see the sheet moving as the body under it jerked wildly. Sam flipped on the night light near his bed.



Andy was thrashing in all directions, his face twisted in surprise and joy. His legs kicked at the covers, and the sheet fell to the side. In his fist was a husky, spurting cock, and his belly was streaked with white jism which continued to spurt as his brothers watched in astonishment. Lonnie scrambled out of bed to watch, and Sam followed, both standing by Andy's bed and stroking their own pulsating pricks.



Finally, the young cock dribbled its last, and Andy's hand stopped its frenzied jacking. His eyes opened for the first time and stared in surprise at his brothers, grinning down at him.



"Wha-what happened?" he gasped, staring at the white trails of cum on his belly and chest. "What is it?"



Lonnie giggled and Sam's chuckle was deeper in his chest.



"It's cum, you ninny!" Lonnie answered. "Is this the first time you ever came?"



Andy nodded slowly, staring at his cock, which he still stroked gently. "Yeah... I was watchin' you guys and playin' with it and, suddenly, this funny feelin' came over me and my cock started spurtin' in my hand..."



Lonnie gasped. "You were watchin' us?"



"Sure, I been watchin' you guys for months, wrestlin' around in Sam's bed after lights out, sucking each other and all that..."



"Hey, Lonnie, look at the cock the baby is growin'! He's almost as big as me!"



Andy grimaced at the word "baby". Although there were only two years difference in the ages of the three boys, the older brothers had always treated him as a child. For the first time, he was given some credit for growing up, as Lonnie and Sam inspected his cock closely in the dim light. Andy let it flop down to his belly where it twitched and pulsed in a pool of cum.



They all stared at the impressive fucktool for a moment, and then Sam gripped it, slippery with juice, in his hairy paw. Andy gasped again as the unfamiliar contact, so different from his own hand, stirred his sensitivities. Sam stroked the wet shaft roughly with one hand while giving the same treatment to his own cock with the other.



Lonnie dipped his finger into a pool of boycum on Andy's slender belly, and he transferred some to his tongue.



"Hummmmm, real sweet," he murmured, relishing the results of his brother's first orgasm. He tasted it again, then stooped to lick up all the delicious cream. His tongue caused ripples of joy in his brother's tense muscles, and Andy began to twist under the double assault. Sam was stroking the boy's awakening prick with increasing pressure; he seemed fascinated by the young cock, so stiff and straight.



"Gees, guys... you make me feel real funny... kinda jumpin' outa my skin, ya know?"



Sam grinned at his little brother. "Yeah, we know, kid -- great, ain't it?" Then Sam moved close, bringing his rigid prick close to Andy's face. "Wanta suck it, Andy?"



Andy stared at the thick fuck tool in his brother's fist, the bulging, almost purple head, the straight shaft with a few dark hairs, the dark mat in his brother's crotch setting off his throbbing cock. He had long envied his brothers their pubic hair, but his was starting to grow, too, and tonight he had cum for the first time! He shyly grasped the stiff prick in his small hand as Sam released it.



"Man!" the youngster breathed, as the big shaft pulsed in his grasp. Sam stiffened, the young hand turning him on as his own never had. Andy began to stroke it the same way he did his own, and Sam moaned. Lonnie, having cleaned his brothers belly thoroughly, came close to watch.



"Go ahead," Sam urged. "Put it in your mouth, Andy!"



Sam's teeth clenched under the pressure of that gentle hand.



"Please, Andy, please... just kiss the head... do something! You're drivin' me crazy!" Clear drops of pre-cum were oozing from Sam's dark cockhead.



"What's that?" Andy asked.



"That's sweet juice," Sam gritted, his legs rigid, his hips thrusting toward his brother.



"It tastes real good!" He had all he could do to keep from raping those pink lips, but he knew he had to take it slow if he ever expected any cooperation. Andy had always been a stubborn fucker!



"Yeah, I really like it," Lonnie chimed in. He snared some of Sam's clear fluid on his fingertip, then licked it off greedily while Andy watched.



Apparently satisfied with Lonnie's demonstration, Andy extended his tongue to touch the tip of the throbbing fucktool and catch some of the pre-cum. He tasted it... hesitated... then went back for some more. Sam remained still, although it took almost super-human effort. Andy pulled down on his brother's cock and more fluid appeared. This time, Andy placed his lips around the tip of the boy's cock, and Sam could wait no longer. He shoved hard, one fist pushing the blonde, tousled head down on his throbbing cockmeat. "Ahhhhh!" he moaned joyously, his head thrown back, his eyes closing in ecstasy from the young lips and the virgin mouth.



"Yeah, fuck his face," Lonnie urged, and brought his own cock close to the action. Andy clawed at Sam, trying to get away. Lonnie grabbed Andy's hands while Sam thrust, and Lonnie's long prick hung in the struggling boy's face.



"Fuckin' hot mouth," Sam gasped. "'N sweet lips -- stop strugglin and suck it, damn you!" Andy bit down, and Sam slapped him suddenly with the back of his hand. The boy abruptly stopped fighting. He was no match for his brother and he knew it.



"You asked for that, Andy -- now suck, like I told you! Just open your mouth and suck it like a lollypop!"



"We'll do the same for you," Lonnie whispered. "Go ahead!"



Sam began to fuck the boy's face, and this time Andy was passive, allowing the heavy hunk to ride in and out without responding at first. But, gradually, his lips conformed tighter to Sam's thick cockshaft, and then his tongue began to caress the broad prickhead as it moved in and out; Sam began to groan with pleasure.



"Yeah, Andy, suck that big cock!" Lonnie urged. "It's good, ain't it? You like it, don't you, kid?"



Andy no longer struggled against Lonnie's hands, but his head moved to take in more and more of the thrusting fucktool. His eyes focused on Lonnie's throbbing prick a few inches away as he sucked more and more enthusiastically on Sam's thick meat. And then Sam gripped Andy's young cock in his hairy fist again, stroking it slowly, and the boy lost all hesitation; he avidly slurped on Sam and eyed Lonnie as his own prick was set afire.



"Let me have some of that," Lonnie begged. Sam continued to thrust, but finally pulled back before he gushed too soon. Lonnie took his place, and Andy sucked in the new prick with no hesitation. Lonnie moaned as the boy's hot mouth engulfed his cock, even though the boy did not know how to give the full tactile stimulation that Sam could give.



Sam moved down and stroked Andy's rigid prick with both hands. The tender fucktool was almost as big as his own and seemed to fascinate the older boy. He bent to close his lips around it, then immediately dove down to swallow it to the hilt.



Andy groaned and grew rigid, the hot mouth on his overheated prick a sudden shock, a thrilling rush. He gobbled Lonnie's cock deeper into his throat as Sam took him all the way. The youngster experienced, for the first time, the demanding need for man-mouth and man-cock, which would never leave him.



"Oh, yeah," Lonnie breathed as Andy's new enthusiasm gripped him hotly. He straddled his young brother's face front above, watching Sam gobble the youngster's cock to the base. His own long prick probed deeper and deeper into his brother's throat, and it felt so fucking good!



Andy writhed and twisted, his slender body afire with his first real sexual assault, his brain spinning in wild abandon. He gripped Lonnie's thighs, urging deeper and deeper penetration of that long, stiff prick into his gasping mouth. Sam took his young cock into his throat and lapped his hairless balls with his tongue tip; Andy lurched upward with sudden rapture and knew that he might again squirt that mysterious juice.



Sam pulled up, licking his lips happily. "That's real juicy, Andy," he said, but Andy had his mouth full.



"Come here, Sam," Lonnie said in a strangled voice, his cock stiffly plunging. Sam moved to his side, and Lonnie gripped his brother's thick cockshaft. "Up on the bed."



Sam smiled suddenly, understanding what Lonnie had in mind. He climbed on the bed, his feet straddling Andy, and his cock thrust straight into Lonnie's mouth. "Ahhhh," he gasped from the sudden heat and suction, and Lonnie moaned with pleasure, also.



Andy continued to suck Lonnie happily. He caressed both sets of legs -- the long, hairless ones and the thickly muscled calves with their liberal sprinkling of crisp hair -- and felt the tension building in the older boys. Dropping one hand to his own cock, he began to jerk it excitedly. Lonnie's prick seemed to be leaking that sweet fluid onto his tongue as it thrust into his throat, and his smaller cock was still moist from Sam's mouth.



"Oh, yeah, suck it, Lonnie, take it all, man! That looks really good, your big cock in Andy's mouth like that!" Sam pushed his brother's head into his own crotch with increasing force as his balls began to churn.



Because he knew Sam liked it, Lonnie gripped his heavy balls tightly in their hairy sac, and that was the clincher. Sam moaned and thrust deep, his first surge of jism spurting powerfully into his brother's throat. Lonnie choked and swallowed, going down for more of the delicious cream. As his mouth filled, his own balls shot hotly into Andy's surprised mouth.



Andy struggled to breathe, suddenly choking with the thick sweetness, but then welcomed the sweet maleness, the potent potion which he had just learned about. From Sam's groans, he knew his brother was squirting into Lonnie's mouth, and Lonnie wasn't objecting, so it must be all right. And then the sweetness and creaminess penetrated his senses, a gift of male pleasure bringing pleasure, and he gulped it down with increasing satisfaction. He again began to stroke his own cock with a tight fist.



Sam groaned, his muscular body rigid and plunging, his cock spurting thickly. Lonnie was gasping and moaning, filled with sweetness from his older brother and emptying his own into his younger one.



"Yeah, suck cum, Lonnie -- Andy -- fuckin' man-cream for your hungry mouths! Ugh! Ugh!"



Sam and Lonnie trembled to a gradual slowing, muscles beginning to lose their tension as the tide passed, the last drops of white oozing onto receptive tongues. And then the cocks were released, both boys gasping for breath, but Andy continued to jack his own prickmeat, on the verge of another orgasm.



"Hey, look," Sam said wonderingly. "Andy's going to cum again!"



"Yeah," Lonnie said excitedly, dropping by the bed, his face only inches away from the jerking fist.



"I want his juice this time," Sam decided, kneeling beside his brother, eyes fixed on the pink fucktool that had reached impressive proportions again.



"Ohhh -- ohhh -- I feel it again. My balls are tinglin'. It's goin' to happen again -- yeah, here it comes -- ahhhhh!"



Andy almost screamed as his jism erupted, white spurt shooting high between his clenched fingers. Sam groaned and snatched Andy's hand away, swallowing the gushing fountain to catch the sweet spurts of male juice from his little brother. Andy's moans turned to cries of joy mixed with agony, it seemed, from his first cum into a hot, sucking mouth. And Sam sucked hard, frantic for that virgin load, avidly gulping down the gushing cream.



Lonnie slurped up the first stream which had spattered the boy's slender chest. Andy's spasming belly thrilled to the lapping roughness. His young body twisted in ecstasy as he still savored his brother's juice on his tongue.



The second orgasm did not last as long, but was infinitely more stirring. All too quickly for Andy and Sam, the young cock dribbled to a stop and, finally, Sam released it. The three boys smiled at each other, speechless, aware of a new relationship between them, but unable to express their feelings.



They returned to their beds and were soon asleep, satiated temporarily.



CHAPTER TWO



The next morning, there was no indication that anything had happened between the brothers. After school, Andy watched football practice for a while. Sam was a rough attacker on the football field, sweeping most adversaries to one side as his thick, muscular legs, like steel pistons churning mechanically, carried him down the field. Lonnie was running track to keep in shape for basketball, which was to start in a few weeks. But Andy spent most of his time batting a tennis ball against the backboard, trying to perfect his swing and develop an automatic return. Tennis was his real love these days.



That night after dinner, Sam rushed through his homework and left on a date. Lonnie sweated over his algebra while Andy daydreamed. Their father, John Forbes, read the paper and complained about taxes going up again. Sam returned early, just as Lonnie and Andy were ascending the stairs for their attic bedroom. Andy could see that Sam was angry about something.



"Fuckin' cock-teaser," he grumbled as he undressed in the bedroom. "That Gloria -- Mike said he fucked her on the first date, but she wouldn't spread her legs for me," Sam grumbled as he stripped down his skin-tight Levi's. Andy watched the husky, hairy body come into view, aware for the first time of the sensuality of the nude male animal. Lonnie was also watching his brother, with occasional glances at Andy as he climbed into bed.



Sam fluffed up his cock and balls, the heavy orbs loaded and aching from frustration and the tight confinement of his Levi's. His thick cock responded to the casual touch with a lurch, and then remained extending semi-hard as Sam padded to the closet. Lonnie's cock began to rise, and he ducked into his bed in embarrassment. Andy noticed his arousal, but said nothing, and Sam finally climbed into bed and turned out the light, still grumbling. Then all was still for several minutes.



"Sure would like to fuck a cunt," Sam grunted.



Lonnie and Andy were silent, tacitly agreeing.



"Must be real hot and tight," Sam mused aloud.



"Yeah -- guess so," Lonnie agreed. Again, there was silence.



It was very dark in the room, but whispers of movement from the three beds suggested what was occurring under the sheets. Andy began to wish something would happen. Even watching his brothers play with each other was better than this waiting and wondering... maybe he could shoot that white goo again and get that funny thrill...



"Lonnie?"



There was a moment of silence, then a hesitant, "Yeah?"



Sam seemed a little breathless. "What about it -- can't I fuck your ass, please?" Andy gasped. He had never thought of that!



"No, damn it, unless I can fuck yours, too!" Lonnie was adamant, although his voice was higher than usual.



"I got some Vaseline here... it won't hurt... not much, anyhow," Sam persisted. "No, forget it!" Lonnie growled.



Again, a few moments of silence accented the growing tension in the room. "Andy?" Sam's voice was strangely soft and gentle. "How about it?"



Andy couldn't imagine taking that thick prick into his asshole, and he said so, but both his brothers detected a hint of curiosity, leaving the door open, perhaps. Sam crawled out of his bed, and he sat on Andy's, a jar of Vaseline in one hand and his stiff cock in the other.



"I'll be careful and take it easy," he promised. "How about it?"



"No, Sam, it's so big, it'll hurt like blazes," Andy objected.



"Naw, queers do it all the time!" Sam insisted.



"Queers! What are they?" Andy asked naively.



Lonnie decided to join them and maybe benefit also from developments.



"Oh, it don't matter, Andy... let him do it, it'll be okay," he chimed in, stroking his long prick slowly.



Andy was still negative. "No... but I'll suck it, if you want me to," he offered. Immediately, Sam moved over and thrust his stiff prick into Andy's face. He felt the boy's warm lips close over the broad head and his brother's tongue rasp along the underside.



"Oh, yeah, Andy, suck it!"



Sam's thick cock filled Andy's mouth and throat, with half still outside. The boy choked as his brother pushed hard, trying to bury the hot meat. Lonnie watched Sam's cock spread the boyish lips, and he began to jerk his own excitedly. Sam thrust again and again, but it was too large for the opening. He groaned in frustration, although Andy was trying hard to please. The huge prick plowing into him with masterful power stirred something deep inside which had never been touched before. He gulped and choked around the steely stem.



Sam groaned again, wanting more than he was getting, his need growing steadily instead of being somewhat relieved by his brother's willing mouth.



"Fuck him!" Lonnie urged tensely, his fist flying on his fuckstick.



Abruptly, Sam pulled out and ripped the sheet down, exposing Andy's slim frame and stiff cock. Quickly, he turned the boy over with one arm, trapping his stiff cock under his belly, then straddled his ass, one arm twisted behind his back. Andy almost screamed with the pain, but Sam only cursed him to silence.



"Shut up, fucker -- I'm goin' to fuck your ass, whether you like it or not, Andy. Keep your mouth shut, or I'll break your arm!"



Sam jabbed a thick forefinger into the Vaseline, then prodded the boy's asscrack until he found the hole. Then he shoved in through the tight muscle ling in one push, still holding his brother in an iron grasp.



Andy moaned loudly, the stiff finger-prod burning like fire, but not as painful as his twisted arm. Sam applied more pressure to the arm, and Andy forgot his asshole as the pain shot up to his shoulder. Lonnie merely watched wide-eyed, his prick twitching in his fist. Sam jabbed his finger in and out a few times, and Andy twisted and groaned, unable to fight back against the massive weight and strength of his brother. His brain at first rebelled, but then a new dimension seemed to develop; his rejection turned to excitement of discovery as he began to realize that he was powerless to resist. Whatever happened, it was not his fault. His attacker was going to force him to accept his thick prick up his ass, and Andy must submit, willingly or not.



His mind tried to ignore the pain in his arm and shoulder and began to concentrate on his ass. Sam's finger was still probing, but it no longer was painful. Andy began to wish for the next step, when he would feel that meaty mauler entering him, feel the prick power of the muscular man entering him, and be unable to resist. The pain seemed only a needed accompaniment to the masculine invasion.



The finger was pulled out, and Andy slumped to the bed limply. Sam released his arm and smeared Vaseline over his hot cock, which throbbed in anticipation. Andy did not move away; he waited silently. Again, he felt a probing tip, and then... penetration! Hot, painful, searing pressure spread in him, filling him with liquid fire, tearing him apart. He yowled, but Sam clapped a hairy fist over his mouth as Lonnie watched, stricken dumb. His big prick pushed farther, entering and invading heavily, hotly, stretching the tender tissues relentlessly.



"You're hurtin' him," Lonnie finally whispered, but Sam was past caring. His eyes widened as he felt the tight heat grip his rigid cock, caressing with a velvet grasp -- more, he needed more! Deeper! Hot, clenching joy deep in his brother's ass -- farther! He twisted Andy's arm viciously and clamped the boy's jaw tightly, causing the blood to flow as his teeth cut his cheek, refusing to allow anything to spoil the exquisite pleasure sweeping over him.



"Fuckin' hot hole -- beautiful -- tight asshole suckin' me in -- oh, yeah, take my prick!"



The pain in Andy's arm and shoulder and the cutting of his lip against his teeth from Sam's fist blended together in a vague cloud of excitement which seemed to spread through his body, centered in his asshole. The pain from the invasion was lessening, seeming to seep away, leaving a warmth and fullness which was not unpleasant. And finally, he realized that he was pushing back against Sam's thick prick, wishing it would sink deeper into his willing body, touch some unknown spot of mystery which would climax the entire experience. And then, as Sam twisted his arm, the pain blended with and increased the growing pleasure, suffusing his entire body with lust and desire for more, and more, and more!



Lonnie stood over the pair, jerking his cock close to their struggling bodies, watching avidly as Sam sank balls-deep into the boy's tiny ass. And then, as Sam began to move in and out, grunting and groaning, his teeth clenched in agonized joy, Lonnie smeared some Vaseline on his own cock to capture some of the feeling. As he stroked again, his hand took on the quality of Andy's ass in his imagination and his climax began to build quickly.



Sam moaned louder as his orgasm approached. "Oh, man, fuckin' hot asshole... goin' to take my cum... so tight, so hot... stiff prick deep in your gut, Andy... take it!"



Andy took it, his mind spinning, alternating between pleasure and pain, then blending the two together to produce a euphoria more soaring than he had ever before experienced. The thick prick asserted its power over him, producing pain and pleasure simultaneously, the hairy man crouching over him his undisputed master. Andy was on the bottom -- the receiver, the receptacle. And then it seemed that the massive muscle grew even thicker as it plunged deeper and deeper into his welcoming gut, and it began to lurch with a life of its own.



"Oh, yeah, I'm cumming... cumming... yeah!" Sam shouted with joy as his juice spurted hotly into the boy's clenching ass. Andy thrust back against him, feeling Sam's tight balls press against his ass as they spewed their contents deep inside. His brother's prick jerked and spurted, hot jism filling his quivering ass, drenching him with liquid fire. And then he realized that his own cock was spurting onto the sheet below as Sam lunged in violently again and again. He was being given the hot gift of man-juice which seemed so mysterious and potent, the essence of cock, of male-power, and he accepted it joyously.



"Yeah, me, too!" Lonnie gasped, and he gushed thickly over Andy's back and ass, the whiteness squirting from between his fingers. "Take it, Andy -- two fuckin' loads for ya!"



"Give it to me," he begged, Sam's hand no longer clamped over his mouth. "Give me all your hot juice!"



Lonnie and Sam lurched and strained, squirting jism wildly over and into their younger brother.



"What the fuck's goin' on?"



Suddenly, the ceiling light was switched on, and the boys' father stood in the doorway, staring at the scene. Sam was stretched out on top of Andy, his cock still buried balls-deep, and Lonnie was still dribbling cum over Andy's slim figure. Andy seemed to be the victim of a rape, although he was perhaps the happiest of the lot.



Sam and Lonnie stared at their father, their faces growing pale with fear of the consequences of their discovery. Andy watched numblu, still confused and reeling from the experience.



Forbes walked in the room and slammed the door.



CHAPTER THREE



"You bastards!" he snarled at Sam and Lonnie.



Apparently their moans and groans had awakened their father, since he was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of pants with the fly open. His broad, hairy chest heaved with indignation.



"Attacking your little brother like animals! Raping the poor kid -- Sam, you bastard! And you, Lonnie, you helped him, didn't you? Let the poor kid up!"



Forbes advanced into the room and stood snarling at Sam and Lonnie. He was a rugged man, a grizzled construction worker, with heavy muscles and a short temper. His hair was short, salt-and-pepper, and his body was hairy. His chest hair was thick and matched his head -- gray mixed with black curls. But now he was angry and looked very threatening. Lonnie's cock had never shrunken so fast; his head hung in shame as he walked away toward his bed.



Sam pulled his shrinking cock out of Andy with a plop! Andy grimaced as it was suddenly withdrawn, not so much from pain as from the sudden void. His father apparently believed him to be in agony, however.



"Look at the poor kid! You bastard, Sam..."



Forbes stripped his belt from his pants, and he raised it high. Sam turned away in fear, his thick cock still slapping against his thighs. Forbes brought the strap down on the boy's back with a crack, and Sam cried out in pain.



"How do you like being hurt, for a change?" Forbes shouted, bringing down the belt again and again. Sam bent over his bed, trying to shield his face, and the belt crisscrossed his buttocks with red streaks.



"On your knees, kid. You've been needin' a taste of this belt for a long time, you smart-ass! Think you're hot shit, don't ya, boy? What's the matter, won't the girls fuck for ya? Have to rape your little brother?" Forbes shouted and grunted as he brought down the whistling strap again and again on Sam's butt which quivered with each blow.



Lonnie watched from his bed in shock, his cock still dripping. Andy was horrified at first, thinking his father would kill Sam because he was so angry. But then he realized that there was some element in his father's reaction which was not only resentment of what Sam had done to his brother, but something else, something hidden -- almost like jealousy coming to the surface.



"You think all the girls want your body, don't ya? Big football star, big cocksman, yeah. Now look at ya! Take my belt on your hairy ass, football star! You'll find out who's the real man around here!"



And then Andy noticed that a huge bulge had developed in his father's crotch as he whipped his son. His pants were beginning to slip without a belt. Bristly hair protruded from the open fly, and Andy suddenly wished very hard that he could see his father's cock, which was obviously getting excited as he beat the young man.



Sam's ass was growing beet-red with stripes outlined by the belt. He was groaning and almost sobbing, but did not fight back. He knelt on his knees on the bed, his head buried in his arms. And then Andy realized that his own cock was stiffening again, the scene bringing an excitement which he could not define. His hand dropped to his rising prickshaft and he stroked it slowly as he watched the whipping.



"You need some of your own medicine," Forbes panted, stopping the beating to catch his breath. He stared at the red ass of his son, the teenager's round mounds quivering above the hairy thighs, very similar to his own. Then he unfastened the one button which kept his pants in place, and they slipped to the floor. The man's thick cock stabbed the air fiercely from its dark pubic bush. About the same length as Sam's, his prickhead was much larger, bulbous and red-purple on a thick stem. Huge balls hung low in their hairy sac, and Andy thought of a bull as he gazed in fascination.



Forbes caught sight of the Vaseline jar, and he scooped up a wad on his fingers. He applied it liberally to his rigid cock without taking his eyes from his son's bruised ass. Sam did not move or speak; he waited in trembling silence for what was to come.



"All right, stud, cocksman, brother-fucker, let's see how you like a taste of your own medicine," Forbes gritted as he dropped to his knees behind Sam. Roughly, he spread Sam's legs and pulled apart his muscular asscheeks, exposing the tiny, dark pucker. He spat on the boy's asshole deliberately, then placed his dark, broad cockhead directly at the opening.



"Come here, Andy, I want you to watch this!" Forbes growled, and a startled Andy, his stiff cock protruding straight ahead, hesitantly came to stand close. His father looked at the rigid prick in his son's hand with surprise -- he had not expected such a large cock on his youngest son -- but said nothing about it.



"Now watch me, Andy. I'm goin' to get even for you -- goin' to fuck your big stud brother like he fucked you! Goin' to ram it home -- like this!" He lunged forward suddenly, his huge cockhead forcing the tight muscles wide open and penetrating deep into the cringing boy with one shove.



A piercing scream echoed through the attic room as Sam felt the red-hot poker enter his ass.



The huge prick entering Sam's ass brought Andy's own fucktool to maximum erection. Andy realized that his ass was twitching, almost longing to be in Sam's place, to feel his father's huge prick entering him -- the cock which had created him almost two decades ago. He trembled with desire, suddenly, as he watched Sam's agony.



Lonnie also came close to watch their father's thick prick sink all the way into his brother. Forbes' big balls pressed against the boy's hairy asscheeks, and his crisp pubic hair grated against the young skin.



Forbes' eyes were widening with the exquisite pleasure of Sam's hot ass gripping him, and his breathing grew ragged. Sam moaned, and this set his father off. Suddenly, he pulled back, then shoved hard all the way, again sinking balls-deep. This time, both groaned with the pleasure of filling and being filled. Sam did not try to pull away. As his father began to fuck rhythmically, Sam's ass moved in concert, pushing back against the huge invader with newfound excitement.



Forbes stopped for a moment, his breathing quick, his orgasm already close. He looked up at Andy and Lonnie, both jerking their cocks excitedly within inches of the action. "Lonnie, you helped, didn't you? You stood by, watchin' Sam attack your brother, didn't you? For that, I am going to make you suck your brother's cock! Get over here and get down on your knees. Let me see you take Andy's cock in your mouth like a fuckin' cocksucker!"



Lonnie had begun to tremble when his father turned to him, but had difficulty concealing his relief when his "punishment" had been decided. He had been wanting to suck Andy's cock anyway, to get some more of that sweet boy-cum. Quickly, he knelt in front of his younger brother and took his rigid prick all the way into his throat. Andy stiffened and thrust as the warm mouth clasped him in greedy welcome, and Lonnie gurgled happily.



Forbes watched this action spellbound for a moment, and then took up his fucking again, his gaze glued to the cock-mouth connection.



"Ugh -- ugh -- take it, Sam -- suck it, Lonnie. You'll learn to take out your nasty desires on your little brother! Fuck your hot ass, ram my prick right up your chute, you brother-fucker!"



"Yes, Sir." Sam's voice was strangled as he reacted to the renewed fucking with unconscious enthusiasm. His ass circled and bobbed, bringing the thick prick into contact with all his internal sensory endings, bringing happy moans to his lips. "Oh, yes," he whispered as Forbes lunged harder and harder.



"Man!" Forbes panted, driving deep, gripping his son around the waist to pull him all the way onto his plunging prick. "So fuckin' hot -- so tight -- not sloppy like -- gettin' close again -- yeah, move your ass, boy -- take it deep..."



Andy watched in rising rapture, his father's huge prick plundering his older brother and his own cock throbbing in Lonnie's throat. "Suck it, Lonnie -- your mouth is really great... ohhhh..."



Again, Forbes stopped, on the brink, but wanting to postpone the final moment. "Gettin' too close -- gotta get my breath -- yeah, Lonnie, suck it! You really like to suck it, don't you? Damn you, Sam, keep your ass still! Let me cool off for a minute, see?"



Sam's ass tingled with an uncontrollable need to move, to feel that thick prick filling him deeply. But Forbes put a stop to it by gripping Sam's cock and balls in one iron fist thrust between the boy's thighs.



"Hold still, Sam, or I'll twist your cock and balls off, so help me! You love my cock up your ass, don't you? Your prick is hard as a rock! Fuckin' stud-raper!"



Forbes plunged deep into his son, and both males groaned in ecstasy. As he picked up his rhythm, they panted and moaned together in crescendo, their voices rising in concert. Andy stared, his peak building, but then Lonnie stopped sucking; he had to see his father and brother coupling, the approaching storm obvious in their voices.



Lonnie and Andy stood over the pair, jerking their cocks near the action, but the older man was blind to his surroundings. His climax was sweeping up and up, and he gripped Sam's cock even tighter as the tension grew. Sam struggled to get more and more of his father's plunging prick, the pain in his balls adding to his growing passions, on the brink of spilling over.



And then it was there. Forbes groaned and thrust hard into his son, holding it there as he shot his first spurt deep in the boy's gut, clutching his son's cock and balls viciously. "Ahhhhhhh!" he shouted. "Take it, fucker!"



And Sam took it. The hot cum spraying his ass, thick prick jerking wildly in his father's fist, set off his own storm, and he began to fill his father's hand with sticky juice. He pushed back against the spurting fountain, thrilled as the jerking cock spewed hotly over his tender tissues. "Yes, give it to me -- your hot cum up my ass... oh, Dad, beautiful!"



Forbes' and Sam's orgasms set Andy off, and he squirted his boy-cream over Sam's ass. Almost immediately, he was joined by Lonnie, his white gushes blending with Andy's on Sam's back, running down into his asscrack and onto Forbes' shaft, pumping hard and deep.



Sam felt the triple loads on him and in him, and sprayed Forbes' fist with thick gushes as they all moaned and thrust, cocks instead of brains the controlling element at that point, lust taking over and blocking out everything else. The boys' cum dribbled onto the thick, thrusting prick, further lubricating the action, adding to Forbes' dominating delirium.



"Oh, yeah," Sam groaned. "Cum in me, on me -- loaded with cock-juice -- oh, yeah!"



"Fuckin' guys," Forbes groaned. "Squirtin' cum all over, in my hand, on my cock... yeah, kid, take mine up your ass!"



But even in the midst of the orgy, Andy knew that he wanted, more than anything else in the world, to feel his father's huge prick deep in his ass as Sam was then experiencing. He wanted to feel it spray and fill him, and to watch his father's face transformed into ecstatic joy and driving lust as it appeared at that moment.



And then it was over. The peak was passed, the moment gone, and reality was again established. Sam collapsed on the bed. Forbes stared for a long moment at his cock still embedded in his son's ass, streaked with cum and a trace of blood from the ravaged sphincter. He looked up dazedly at his sons, who stood with dripping, sagging cocks in hands, and his jaw hung slack from the realization of what had transpired.



Gently, he allowed his shrinking cock to slip free of its warm haven. Even then, his very broad prickhead hung up at the sphincter which had tightened down in spasm. Then it slipped free, his thick prick hanging down heavily. Sam sighed, but did not move. Forbes staggered to his feet, his prick shit-stained and drooping. He stared at his son's violated asshole for a moment, then stopped to pull up his pants.



"You guys had better get to bed," he mumbled. "School tomorrow."



The three boys remained unmoving, cocks dripping on the floor, as they watched their father stride from the room and shut the bedroom door firmly.



CHAPTER FOUR



Breakfast was very quiet the next morning, each busy with his thoughts. Forbes shot glances at his sons, but said nothing. He flushed slightly as he stared at Sam, the boy's shoulders broad in his T-shirt, his black chest hair bristling at the neck. Then he quickly looked away.



"Won't be home until late tonight -- got a union meeting," he grunted as he stomped out, his engineer boots squeaking on the tile floor. The boys exchanged glances, but they silently left for school.



That night as bedtime approached, the brothers became restless. Their mother was knitting silently, waiting up for her husband to return home. Sam finally yawned openly. "Guess we better turn in early." Neither Lonnie nor Andy responded. "Right, Lonnie? Andy?" Sam growled, starting for the stairs.



"Uh -- yeah, guess so," Lonnie grunted, scrambling to his feet from the obvious command in Sam's voice. "Coming, Andy?"



"Uh, yeah, okay," Andy answered absently. He had been thinking about his father's burly frame, that huge prick, throbbing...



By the time he joined his brothers in the bedroom, Sam was stripped, his cock already stiff in his fist.



"Listen, you guys, we got to be quiet, see? We don't want Ma to come up here, do we? Let's have our fun before Dad gets home, and then he won't -- uh -- bust in on us again!"



Lonnie stripped off his remaining clothes. "Yeah, that was really a scene last night, wasn't it? I thought Dad was goin' to kill you with that huge poker of his, Sam! How did it feel?"



Sam groaned with the memory. "Jesus, man, it tore me up! No more of that for me! Although there were times -- come on, Andy, get outa them pants! I gotta fuck that sweet ass before Dad gets home!"



Andy was too slow for Sam. He grabbed the kid and yanked off his remaining clothes, then threw the boy crudely to his bed. Andy thrilled again to this rough treatment, his cock rising and his asshole beginning to tingle. He was beginning to understand a man's need for sex and his role in satisfying that need.



"Go easy, Sam, please -- I'm still a little sore from last night," he begged, but he lay passive on his belly, spreading his legs willingly.



Sam stared at the small butt offered up for his pleasure. So smooth, so trim, the tiny opening barely visible but inviting onslaught. He gripped the boy's asscheeks in his burly fists, kneading the tight muscles powerfully until Andy squirmed, partly in pain and partly in pleasure.



Again Lonnie stood over them, stroking his long cock and watching Sam's prick throbbing inches away from the forbidden boy-hole. Then he gasped, startled, as Sam leaned forward.



"Yeah, be gentle, kid, but got to get you ready for my prick," Sam whispered. He spread Andy's buns to reveal his asshole clearly, then kissed it full with his lips! Andy moaned in surprise and pleasure; he had expected Sam to attack him violently in his eagerness.



Sam pulled back, staring at the boy's pink asshole as it tightened, then relaxed. Again, he bent to kiss it, longer this time, and Andy moaned and squirmed in pleasure. Sam's tongue snaked out and lapped gently; again, the puckered point responded invitingly. Then he attacked with bared teeth and flashing tongue, ravishing the boy's asshole hungrily, his scratchy beard reddening the tender skin on both sides of the beckoning valley. Both Sam and Andy groaned and thrashed with pleasure. Andy raised his ass for better exposure and both boys began to jerk their cocks excitedly.



Lonnie, seemingly always the voyeur, watched in amazement. "Is it good, Sam? Andy? What's it like?" But neither of his brothers were talking at that point. Sam's ass waved in the air invitingly, and Lonnie took his cue. He moved behind Sam and spread the hairy asscheeks. The asshole that had been ravaged by his father winked at him darkly. Hesitantly, Lonnie bent, and he lapped once. Sam groaned loudly.



"Shhhhh," Lonnie cautioned, then lapped again, and again. Sam bucked and moaned, pushing back toward his brother's hot mouth without leaving the pink ass in his face. Soon, both Lonnie and Sam were eating ass avidly, both their cocks in flying fists, their senses reeling with the intimacy and soaring pleasure. Andy's cock was dribbling pre-cum over his fist and onto the bed beneath.



Suddenly Sam pulled up. "I'm gettin' close -- got to fuck ya, Andy -- stick my prick in all the way."



"Yeah, Sam, do it! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Andy gritted, his moist ass bobbing, aching to be filled.



Sam moved forward and pushed his thick cockhead against the boy's tiny asshole. This time, it slipped in easily with only his saliva for lubrication. Andy was so relaxed, and he wanted it so much, that his brother's pulsing prick entered smoothly. Sam continued to push and was soon embedded balls-deep in Andy's body. The younger boy pushed back until he felt Sam's hairy balls against his tender skin.



"Oh, yeah," he breathed.



"Oh, yeah," Sam moaned, his eyes closed, his muscular frame rigid with the ecstasy of the hot contact.



Lonnie again watched, fascinated, as his older brother fucked his younger brother, Sam's thick prick riding slowly in and out, back and forth, each motion bringing joyful moans from them both. Andy stopped jerking his cock. He wanted to enjoy this virile fullness in his ass and didn't want to cum yet. He wriggled his ass and listened to the increasing tone of urgency in Sam's voice in response to his movements. He had a feeling of power, in that he could bring such joy with a mere movement of his ass, while he was also at the mercy of the hairy stud, if Sam wanted to be rough.



It didn't take long for Sam, as heated as he had been before plunging in. His teeth bared, his body trembling, he thrust hard once, twice, and the third time crushed Andy to the bed with a powerful lunge as he spewed his jism deep into the boy's ass. His hairy buns jerked again and again as his spurts shot deep and hot, and Lonnie gripped his own fucktool hard, on the brink himself, as he watched. Andy almost came on the bed as he felt the man-juice filling him and the hairy crotch and belly against his skin, driving him into the mattress.



"Oh, yeah, take it, kid -- take my fuckin' cum -- so hot, so tight -- ugh! Ugh!"



Sam's meaty muscles massed menacingly as he mashed his masculine mate into the mattress. His thick prick was brick-hard, gushing wildly into the groaning boy. Andy trembled with the onslaught, thrilling to his passive role as the receptacle for such pulsating passion.



And then Sam slowed, his thrusts becoming weaker, until he finally collapsed on Andy's back, his chest heaving, sweat glistening over his hairy torso. Andy smiled triumphantly.



"Geez, Sam, that was good, wasn't it?" Lonnie gasped, his own cock leaking copiously in his fist. "Can I try it?"



Sam lay gasping for breath. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure -- it's okay, ain't it, Andy?"



"I guess so," Andy murmured into the bed. His own excitement was at a high plateau, but he was content to continue with more of the same.



"Yeah, move out, Sam, let me in there," Lonnie panted, breathless with desire.



The longer length of Lonnie's cock became evident almost immediately to Andy as he pushed it into him. "Oh, yeah, Lonnie, that's great -- ugh -- your long prick deep inside me, your balls against my ass -- oh, yeah!"



Lonnie was totally rigid, the heat and liquid clasping of his entire cock a new sensation. He froze balls-deep, his eyes wide with the pleasure soaring through him.



Andy began to rotate his ass and Lonnie gasped. He did not move -- his muscles would not respond -- so Andy set up a forward-backward, around-and-around movement which brought him maximum satisfaction, the long cock filling his ass and tantalizing tender nerves deep inside. It took only a few minutes of that loving care to bring Lonnie to the peak.



"Oh, Christ, Andy, you're goin' to get me off! Oh, yeah, kid, beautiful!" Lonnie remained frozen until the last minute, then lunged powerfully into his brother as his orgasm hit. Again, Andy was thrilled with the passion his brother was releasing into the very depths, the older boy trembling and thrashing disjointedly, squirting his joyjuice in total frenzy.



This time, Andy also came, his passion flowing in gushes onto the bed below. He almost screamed as the still novel sensation ripped through his boyish frame, impaled as he was on his brother's spurting prick. Lonnie gripped the young boy's hips in his big basketball paws and ground his nine-inch cock deep, both boys moaning loudly, forgetting everything else in the throes of passion.



And then it was over. Lonnie settled back on his haunches, and his dripping cock slipped out reluctantly. Andy collapsed in the pool of warm jism of his own climax. Sam watched, his own thick cockshaft still semi-hard, and then the boys silently sought sleep in total contentment.



It was about an hour later when Andy was awakened by a stifled cry.



"Shut up, damn you, Sam! I don't want the other boys in on this. I'm goin' to fuck your ass, and only yours, see? I been thinkin' about this all day and evenin', and now I'm goin' to do it slow this time, not like last night. Slow and thorough, kid, ya got it? Just keep your trap shut, you big, tough, hairy stud! Your pa is still more of a man than you'll ever be, right?"



Forbes used a growling whisper in Sam's ear, but Andy was now wide awake and could hear everything from the neighboring bed. He could see his father hunched over Sam, who seemed to be crouching, afraid and trembling.



"Please, Pa, ya got it wrong! I didn't do anything Lonnie didn't do! I can't take that huge cock o' yours up my ass, please, Pa! Please let me go!"



Sam sounded less like the big football hero now, than like he was afraid for his life. He cringed and pleaded, but his father barely listened. Forbes was apparently naked, and was stroking his cock to full erection.



"Before I fuck ya, you're goin' to suck my cock until it gets real stiff, Sam! Go ahead, go down on it -- let me see if your mouth is as hot as your asshole!"



Forbes, squatting on his knees, lifted his lengthening cock, and Sam stretched out on his belly, his head between his father's legs. He looked closely at the huge fuckpole a few inches away, the very prick that had sired him, and it was an impressive sight. His cockshaft was thick, at least nine inches long, and liberally framed with dark, curly hairs. Prominent veins coursed down its length. But the most impressive element was the broad cockhead flaring dark and proud on his long prickshaft. As Forbes slowly drew his hand down, a drop of pre-cum appeared at his piss slit.



"Lick it off, Sam," Forbes ordered, and Sam did as he was told. Without further urging, his tongue lapped around the man's huge cockhead with gradually increasing appetite, spending extra time in the lower groove, making his father tense with growing excitement.



Andy watched as Sam swallowed more and more of Forbes' tremendous fucktool. It was a challenge, but one that Sam apparently could not refuse. The man's huge cockhead bulged his cheeks, and still he proceeded, heading for the huge balls nestled in the hairy crotch. But then he hit bottom, could stuff no more in. His neck veins bulged as he tried to take it all.



Forbes had been stiffening more and more as Sam's hot mouth consumed him, but there were still at least two inches to go. He shoved Sam's head down, but the boy only gave a strangled cry and could take no more. Forbes' callused paw struck a glancing blow on his son's ruddy cheek, and Sam pulled away, gasping for breath.



"Can't take a man's prick after all, can ya, stud? Gotta shove it up your ass where it fits better. Turn around!"



Sam started to turn his ass to his father. "Please, Pa, I'll suck ya off, no shit! Just don't fuck me no more, please!"



Without answering, Forbes spit in his hand, then spread it over his cockhead. Gripping his son's hairy ass, he moved close.



"Shut up, kid! You're goin' to get it now! Ya got me worked up just fine -- not a sound, hear me, fucker? You got the hottest hole in town, I swear!"



The older man shoved hard, and Andy heard the plop as his broad prickhead passed the sphincter. Sam cried out in pain but, again, Forbes stifled his cry with a brawny fist. He continued to shove in until his huge prick was buried in his son's ass channel.



Sam began to sob like a child as the rape began in earnest. His father lunged deep, then withdrew almost all the way before plunging balls-deep again. Andy was afire with newfound lust as he watched the action. He pushed his own finger into his asshole, and that helped a little, but it was no substitute for that huge prick between his father's legs.



"Oh, fuck, yeah," Forbes gritted. "Hot, hot ass, Sam, feel my prick deep in you... like this! Who's the man, now, Sam, you hairy stud-fucker football star! Takin' my cock -- all of it -- up your hot ass!"



This time, Forbes did not touch Sam's cock as he had the previous night. Andy wondered if Sam had a hard-on. His own stiff cock was about ready to shoot all over his hand.



"My balls are gettin' tight, Sam -- goin' to fill ya full o' cum, kid! Move, you big stud hero! Move your ass while I fuck ya! Get my load off!"



Sam began to move his ass. If that would speed up the climax, he was willing to do anything. And it was apparently effective for, very soon, Forbes was panting and plunging wildly.



"Here it comes, stud -- take it -- take my hot juice! Ahhhhh!"



Sam wriggled rapidly, filling quickly with hot jism. The man's huge balls must hold a quart of the sticky stuff, Andy guessed, then immediately shot his own wad over his hand and belly, his probing finger digging deep into his ass channel.



Forbes lunged again and again, then quieted. Sam began to sag, and his father released him. The boy buried his head in his hands, sobbing quietly as Forbes stared down at the muscled form. Andy gripped his softening cock tightly, feeling sorry for Sam for the first time.



CHAPTER FIVE



Things were never the same at home after that night. Sam suddenly got a lot of dates, and his father began to complain that he was out too much. Even when Sam stayed home to study, he would disappear about ten o'clock and not return until after everyone else in the house was asleep.



Even then, sometimes Forbes would glide silently into the attic bedroom in the middle of the night, and the same scene was repeated time and again. Sam would suck his father's cock until it was hard, then turn his ass and be taken roughly, his father panting and moaning as he shot his wad into the muscular body beneath him. Sam would sob and swear quietly after his father left.



It was also disappointing for Andy, because Sam refused to have sex with him and Lonnie anymore.



"That's kid stuff," he would growl, and push them away. "I got a girl now who loves me to fuck her, and that's where I'm stayin' from now on."



Lonnie and Andy had sex almost every night, trying new positions and bringing each other off, but it was never the same. Andy still thrilled to Lonnie's long prick fucking him, but Lonnie was too gentle except when he came, when he was a raging bull for a few minutes. He even learned to take Andy's growing cock up his ass, but it never seemed to turn him on as it did his younger brother.



In June, Sam was to graduate from high school. The football star had been elected president of the senior class, a pattern for that school, and he was greatly in demand by the girls in the upper classes. He had no trouble getting a date, for the graduation party, with the prettiest girl in school. He dressed in a tuxedo, borrowed a buddy's car, and roared off, darkly handsome and bulky in the formal clothes. His father stared after him as he left.



It was very late when Sam returned, and Lonnie and Andy were sound asleep. Vaguely, Andy heard Sam come in and rummage in the closet for several minutes. Finally, he sat up, puzzled, and asked, "Whatcha doin', Sam?"



Sam put a finger to his lips, but continued to stuff clothes into a canvas bag. "I'm leavin'," he finally whispered. Andy stared, speechless.



"Gloria says she's pregnant, and that I got her that way, and so we're gonna get married. We're leavin' tonight. Keep quiet, Andy, like a good kid, and don't tell Pa, whatever ya do. I'll write when we get settled somewhere."



Andy was wide awake now. "But where ya goin'?"



Sam shook his head. "I can't tell you, 'cause Pa might get the truth outa you, and I don't want him to know. Not now, anyway. Just go to sleep, kid." Sam stared down at his little brother for a long minute, then stooped and kissed him gently on the lips.



"I love you, little fucker," he whispered. Then he grabbed his bag and was gone.



Andy lay staring at the ceiling in the darkness. He heard the door close very softly, and then a car drove away very quietly. He was still awake when he heard the door to the attic bedroom open and the bulky form of his father seemed to fill the room. The shape moved to Sam's bed, felt the emptiness, and uttered a smothered curse.



"Where the fuck did he go?" Forbes muttered to himself. He stood staring at the empty bed, and Andy could see that he had a mammoth hard-on, apparently aching for release into the bowels of his muscular son.



Andy raised up and whispered, "Dad?"



Forbes whirled around. "Why ain't you asleep, boy?" he whispered gruffly. "Where's your big stud brother? I heard him come in a while ago."



Andy hesitated. "I... I think he went out again," he finally answered.



Again, Forbes cursed, his cock still stiff in his hand.



Andy gathered courage, swallowed hard, and then whispered, "Why not... ah, maybe I could -- uh, why not try me?"



Forbes stared at him. "You? What d'ya mean, try you? For what?" He came to Andy's bed, trying to hide his huge hard-on.



Andy gathered courage again, gulping nervously. "You could -- fuck my ass if ya wanted to..."



His father was speechless for several moments.



"Fuck your ass! But you're just a kid! This big whacker would kill you, kid!"



Andy shook his head. "I'm sure it would be okay, Dad. Sam used to fuck me all the time, and he's almost as big as you."



"All the time? You mean he -- even after I punished him -- and you liked it?" Andy nodded. "But I really been wantin', that is, I was thinkin'..."



His voice trailed off, but his eyes focused on the huge protrusion partially hidden by his father's fist. When Forbes just continued to stare at him, the boy reached out, and he gently took the monster in his boyish fist. It was so big, so thick, so strong, and the head was so broad and slick with pre-cum! His mouth watered.



Unconsciously, Forbes turned toward the boy's warm, gentle touch, and his prick gave a lurch. He stared at the small hand which could not even encircle his fucktool, and then at the rapt face so young and innocent. But then that innocent face moved forward, and the youngster's tender lips opened, gently engulfing his gigantic prick in a warm, moist embrace.



Slowly, he advanced down the thick cockshaft, taking in more and more of that monster meat. The man stood frozen, unbelieving, watching Andy's young lips stretch around his cock, feeling his darting tongue tantalizing the underside, warmly flicking and lapping as Forbes' cockhead entered the boy's throat. And then he could remain still no longer. He suddenly thrust forward, ramming his stiff prick into the hot mouth, so young but so apparently experienced.



Andy gagged, but hung on. He threw off the covers, then scrambled out of bed to kneel in front of his father, again forcing as much of that huge prick into him as possible. Although he could not take it all, he managed to open his throat to get most of it down, and then began an up and down motion that brought his father to his toes.



"Christ, kid, where'd ya learn to suck like that?" Forbes moaned, helpless to resist the fabulous feeling his son's young mouth was giving him.



"Pa?" Lonnie sat up in bed, blinking, not believing what he saw.



Forbes turned to him with a growl. "Shut up, Lonnie! Andy is -- that is, Sam's gone, and..."



Andy grasped his father's bull-like balls in his small fist, and Forbes forgot all about Lonnie. Andy pulled downward on the man's balls as he sucked his cock, and Forbes moaned again with pleasure. Forbes' hairy orbs filled his hand, and Andy suddenly had a new desire. Abruptly, he turned his attention to his father's ball-sac, sucking one hairy ball into his mouth. One was enough to fill it completely. He lapped and licked it inside his mouth, and Forbes stiffened even more.



Then Andy felt a hand on Forbes' big prong -- it was Lonnie's! That broad, young hand began stroking the man's cockshaft, still moist from Andy's saliva.



"Gee, Pa, it's beautiful," Lonnie sighed, fascinated. Forbes stared for a minute at his two sons, engaged in the most forbidden pleasures, but then the sensations ripping through his body banished all other thoughts.



"Oh, yeah fuck! Hot mouth on my balls, jerk my fuckin' cock, Lonnie! Suck hard, Andy!"



Andy sucked and lapped, then switched to the other ball while caressing the first one wetly. Again Forbes lurched with the double sensation, especially when Lonnie picked up his pace, jerking rapidly.



"Don't! Close to cummin', damn you! Goin' to fuck this wise kid's ass!" Andy released the dripping balls and looked up adoringly.



"Oh, yes, Pa, please -- give me your big cock!"



Quickly, Andy scrambled back on the bed, lying on his belly and spreading his legs for the long-desired invasion. His asshole tingled with anticipation, and he was trembling from head to toe.



Forbes knelt between the boy's legs, his dripping cock in his fist, staring at his son's little white buns, the little pink asshole that he was about to plunder. Again, he hesitated. "Andy, you're just a kid! Are you sure you want it?"



"Oh, yes, please, fuck me, Pa!" he mumbled into the bed. Still, Forbes hesitated. Lonnie took a hand. He came close and spread the boy's tender asscheeks with his broad hands, exposing the pink rosebud, which was by now so experienced. "Go ahead, Dad -- I fuck him all the time!"



Forbes stared at Lonnie, then at the tall boy's long cock, and again at Andy's asshole.



"You guys play around all the time? Rotten kids! Oughta whale your ass for ya! You're too young to play around, don't ya know that? Oughta tan your hides!" His heavy hand came down hard on Andy's ass, leaving a pink mark for each finger.



Andy flinched, but did not move away. The pain was sharp for a minute, but then was gone, and his cock gave a special jerk, pressed into the bed. The pain seemed to add to his expectant excitement. He wriggled his ass from side to side as Forbes stared at his hand imprint on the tender skin. Lonnie cleared his throat. "Maybe if I, uh..."



"What?" Forbes demanded.



"Well, I was just thinkin'..." Lonnie began, then stammered to a stop. "Go on, damn you!" his father snarled.



Lonnie began again. "Well, when I lick his ass, he seems to open up more. Maybe I should -- before you fuck him, I mean..."



Forbes exploded again. "Lick his ass! You dirty kids! I oughta..." He looked again at the boy's tiny asshole. "Well, go ahead, I guess."



Lonnie bent, and he began to lick the red marks on Andy's ass. Forbes' stiff prick was only inches away, almost brushed by the tousled hair of his son. Lonnie's eyes darted to that monster several times as he zeroed in on his brother's pink asshole. Again spreading Andy's slim buns, he began to lap and lick the sensitive spot, growing more avid as he jerked his own cock.



Andy moaned and lifted his ass, feeling the familiar tongue wetly caressing his hot asshole and loving it. Lonnie's tongue started to dig deep, and Andy again moaned, his cock hard in his fist. Around and around he circled, his tongue probing deeper, and the boy's asshole relaxing more and more with each insertion.



Forbes watched in amazement and disgust. Then he shoved Lonnie aside viciously. "Dirty kids! Lapping assholes like a fuckin' dog! Gotta punish you!"



Uninvited, Lonnie seized his father's cock, again sucking and licking the man's slick, thick prick. But Forbes impatiently shoved him aside, pushed his broad cockhead against Andy's relaxed sphincter and it immediately popped in, to his amazement. Andy stirred and moaned, then visibly relaxed, knowing that he was to be filled as never before. The head was already stretching him to a painful point but, for some reason, it only seemed to excite him more.



Forbes pushed again and watched his cockshaft disappear gradually. He swore again. "You're a fuckin' whore! Look at that, takin' my prick like it was nothin'! Whore!" His palm came down again on Andy's ass, and the boy thrilled again as the pain elevated his level of passion.



Forbes pushed again, and nearly all his tremendous fucktool entered, the enormity pushing all else aside. Andy shivered in joy as he was conquered by that superb manhood. He was no kid -- he could take it all -- he would show his dad! Then he would know he never had to go anywhere else for a fuck!



Forbes set up a pattern of slapping the boy's slim ass and proceeding inward. Andy only moaned his appreciation and pushed back for more.



"Oh, shit -- so hot, so tight, little boy asshole," Forbes muttered, his cock deeply embedded. "Dirty kid! Gotta teach ya a lesson!"



The boy started to move back and forth, teetering on his knees, and Forbes stopped beating him.



"Oh, shit, kid, you're goin' to get me off that way! You want me to cum up your ass, don't ya, ya dirty tramp! Fuckin' hot ass, achin' for my load! Oh, yeah..."



Forbes could stand the pressure no longer. He had to fuck! He drew back, watching the tender tissues almost turn inside out as he withdrew, then slammed in hard, pushing Andy almost flat.



"Yeah, Dad, fuck me! Shove it to me!" Andy almost screamed. And he would never forget that fuck of fucks, his father shoving his gigantic cock deep, pulling back, only to thrust again and again, panting in his frenzy.



Lonnie stood over them, beating his prickmeat rapidly, unable to fight off the excitement. Suddenly, he came in thick spurts, the juice creaming over Andy's buns and running his asscrack to dribble around his father's thick prickstem.



Forbes watched dumbly as his son's juices streamed over his cock and balls, wetting his pubic hair. He pulled his cock nearly out to let the cum coat his entire fucktool, and not until Lonnie had tapered off did he move again. Then he set up a rapid rhythm of fucking, now lubricated with his son's hot jism, and almost immediately reached his peak.



"Christ!" he yelled as he pounded his son viciously. "Cumming! Gonna spurt -- gonna fill ya..."



Andy grinned and immediately put his hips in motion, feeling the man's huge prick swell even more. Then the hot spurts of his father's cream jetted against the stretched walls of his ass.



"Ah! Ah! Ah! Fuckin' ass, so hot! Take it, kid -- take my fuckin' load!"



And Andy took it, and took it again. He hoped for more of the total sensation of the hairy man pounding him into the bed, filling him with man-juice, himself at the mercy of the giant who had sired him, the ultimate for Andy. His own cock was on the verge of spitting, trapped between his belly and the bed, but that was not important at that moment.



Finally, Forbes' movements grew slower and less regular, and then he sagged, staring down at what he had done. Amazingly, there was no blood, no sign of damage to his son's tender asshole. The kid was a fuckin' whore! He pulled out abruptly, the only time Andy reacted with pain. Then he began to beat the boy, slapping the ass he had violated with vicious blows.



"Fuckin' whore! Take a cock up your ass, will ya? Gotta punish you!"



"And you, too, Lonnie! Been fuckin' your little brother, ain't ya! I'll get you, too!" Forgetting Andy, he swung off the bed, grabbed Lonnie around the waist, and began to spank his ass. Lonnie screamed and tried to pull away, but Forbes continued until he was tired. Then, after glaring at both his sons, he left the bedroom without another word.



CHAPTER SIX



It was a long time before they heard from Sam again. Of all the family, Forbes seemed to take his absence the hardest, although his oldest son had been the prime object of his scorn. Forbes had always belittled Sam's accomplishments on the gridiron and his conquests of women, while complaining that he, himself, had never had the opportunity to play around when he was young because he had to help support his family. He had not paid much attention to Lonnie, and even less to Andy, a fact which had long plagued the youngest boy. But that was all changed after Forbes discovered Andy's talent in sex.



As time went on, Lonnie became more isolated from his father, and started going out with girls. Most nights, he would visit Andy in his bed for a quick blowjob or an ass fuck, but it seemed obvious that his brother was only getting his rocks off, nothing more. But Andy wasn't left alone. His father made it a habit to make midnight trips to the attic bedroom two or three times a week, although it always seemed to upset him to do so.



"Dirty tramp! Boy whore!" he would chastise Andy, spanking and pummeling his son as the boy wantonly gloried in getting fucked, or sucking his father's huge prick. Each visit, it seemed, Forbes behaved more viciously, the beatings becoming more and more destructive.



One night he came to the bedroom while still wearing his construction clothes after returning from another union meeting. Lonnie was out on a date; Forbes never seemed to care what hours Lonnie kept. He smelled of the day's sweat and excavated earth, an odor which seemed to pervade every corner of the room.



"Get up, cocksucker," Forbes snarled, pulling off Andy's covers unceremoniously as soon as he entered. Andy was instantly wide awake and ready for whatever his father wanted.



"Lay down on the floor, fuckface," he commanded, and Andy immediately complied. His father stood over him in dirty Levi's and construction boots, glaring down at his youngest son. Andy's cock quickly came to full erection as he looked up at his master in the soiled work clothes and he smelled the day's toil on his body.



"How did I ever get a whore son like you?" Forbes growled to himself. "Look at you, getting a hard-on just thinkin' about my big prick, ain't ya? You're a fuckin' sissy, ain't ya, even in school, battin' that silly tennis ball around! Why don't ya play a man's game, like football? No, you're a fruit, and I gotta teach ya what a man oughta be!"



Andy didn't listen very closely to what his father said, because it was always pretty much the same. But no matter what he said, his father's crotch would begin to bulge as he berated Andy, and it always ended up the same. That night was no exception.



Deliberately, Forbes placed his dirt-encrusted boot on Andy's crotch, bearing down on the hard cock which was growing larger every day. He watched his son's face as he pressed down, mashing bone-hard cock and teenaged balls viciously. The dirt crumbled from his boots over the boy's crotch and belly. Although Andy cringed at first contact, a secret smile gradually came over his face as the towering giant asserted his masculine power over him. His willing acceptance of the submissive role and ability to take punishment without whimpering made his father angry, bringing forth more rage and frustration.



"You like it, don't ya, faggot! You'd even like to suck my sweaty socks, I'll bet!" Andy smiled. "Oh, yes, Sir!" So this was the scene tonight!



Quickly, he began to unlace his father's boots, and there was no objection. More dirt crumbled to the floor as he removed the boots. But then he took the man's dirty toes in their damp sock into his mouth, and he sucked, tasting the heady tang of sweat and toil. Getting no response from his father, he worked off one sock, then took the sweaty toes in his mouth directly, frequently looking up at the towering figure for signs of pleasure or displeasure. As he licked between his father's toes, he saw the lurching of the man's thick prick in the Levi's crotch, and a reluctant smile twisted the stern facial features. "Fuckin' queer! You like dirty feet in your face, don't ya? Like a man standin' over ya, makin' you do dirty things, don't ya?"



Andy mutely nodded, wondering when he dared move higher, but content to serve as his father demanded.



"You like that sweat, don't ya, kid? Bet you'd like to smell my sweaty crotch, too, wouldn't ya? It's real ripe after a hot day!"



Immediately, Andy began lapping his way up the stained jeans, catching tiny pieces of dirt and grime on his tongue, until he reached the tight crotch. He inhaled deeply of the acrid aroma, then began nibbling on the hard ridge extending down the leg.



"Cocksucker!" Forbes suddenly kicked the boy in his crotch with his bare foot, sending a shock of pain from his injured balls throughout the boy's body. Andy ignored it, because he saw that his father was watching him closely for signs of hesitancy. He refused to allow any evidence of regret or reluctance, no matter how vicious the treatment.



Forbes' big cock lurched in his mouth, and the boy began to unbutton his father's fly. Even with the flap open, it was difficult to lower the Levi's over his father's sweaty hips, and his cock was still covered. Forbes did not help, only watched derisively as the boy struggled. Finally, the boy eased his jeans down until his huge, stiff prick popped free. Andy never tired of the sight of his father's fuckstick bobbing before his face, twitching with a desire that his father vehemently denied.



"Cocksucker!" Forbes snarled again.



"Yes, Sir," Andy panted softly, and he immediately proved it by licking his father's broad cockhead with his talented tongue.



"Ugh!" Forbes muttered involuntarily, and then pushed his prick all the way into the boy's waiting mouth.



"Ummmm," Andy hummed, not at all disturbed by the rough handling. Forbes' thick cockshaft entered, pushing his big prickhead deep, but Andy was gradually learning how to take it by opening up his throat.



"Dirty cocksucker!"



"Uh hummmm," Andy admitted with mouth full, trying to cram it all in as his own cock dribbled pre-cum on the carpet.



Forbes fumbled at his belt until he had slipped it from his Levi's. It was a broad leather one with metal rivets dotting it in a random design. "I'll teach ya to suck a man's cock! You gotta be whipped for doin' somethin' like that!" Forbes swung the belt in a high arc, and he brought it down on Andy's back. The boy gasped, allowing Forbes' huge fucker to slip in even farther. The pain was fierce, but his father's cock grew even larger as the belt descended again and again.



"Take that, cocksucker! And that! And that!" Each time he swung the belt, Forbes shoved his cock deep into Andy's throat, and the severe pain blended with the increased pleasure of being face fucked. The end result was a higher and higher level of pleasure-pain. He gobbled his father's cock avidly and fought to keep back the tears which threatened to defeat his resolve.



Suddenly, Forbes pulled away, panting with exertion and close to orgasm. "I bet you even want to eat my smelly, shitty asshole!" he thundered.



Andy gasped for breath, grateful, in spite of himself, that the beating had stopped. "Yes, Sir," he finally whispered.



Forbes quickly slipped out of his Levi's, then bent down over the edge of the bed, exposing his hairy ass for his son. It was thick and solid, like the rest of him, with black hairs lining the valley between his two hairy ass-mounds. Andy pressed forward, burying his face between them, deeply inhaling the odor of sweat and shit, traces of which still clung to the hairs around his dark asshole. Hungrily, he began to lick it clean of the accumulated dirt of the day and the bits of remaining shit left after a careless ass-wipe.



Forbes grunted and moaned as the boy's hot tongue caressed him in that intimate spot.



"Fuckin' brown-nose," he muttered, pushing back against Andy's face, and then he moaned again as Andy's tongue reached in his asshole and probed for deeper entrance.



His father's grimy asshole was one of Andy's favorite spots because of the unmistakable masculine aroma of the working man, and because this seemed to shock his father the most. The boy began to jack his cock as he pushed deeper and deeper into that forbidden opening, enjoying the funky shitter as another boy might savor ice cream.



"Eat it, ass-licker," his father growled, and Andy attacked even more enthusiastically. Deeper and deeper, he probed, tasting shit and sweat, thrilling to his closeness to the inner core. Again, there was the feeling of power from his ability to bring this gruff giant to quivering excitement with his tongue. And Forbes' legs were beginning to shake.



Andy reached between his father's legs, and he gripped his huge cock, rock-hard, in his boyish hand. Again, Forbes grunted, straining back against the boy's face with rising passion. The tender hand caressing his thick prick increased the trembling in his legs, especially when Andy also gripped the man's hairy balls in his other hand, then began to squeeze and pull downward.



"Oh, fuck!" cried Forbes, close to cumming. He turned around, forced Andy's head against the edge of the bed, plunged his cock into the boy's throat and immediately spurted thick cum into the moist warmth.



"Suck, cocksucker!" he shouted, and Andy sucked madly, his own cock spewing its own passion up onto his belly. "Suck!" Forbes fucked madly into his son's mouth and squirted jism with each movement. Some of it ran out the sides of Andy's mouth to dribble down his chin, but he swallowed most of it and sucked for more.



His father's hand lashed out, striking the boy a stinging blow to the cheek. Andy was startled, but did not give up his spurting toy. Again, the vicious fist bruised his face.



"Fuckin' cocksucker! I'll show you what we do to cocksuckers! Whore!"



Forbes continued to slap the boy's face as he fucked his mouth, until a trickle of blood joined the cum dribbling down his chin and Forbes' orgasm was over. Andy was careful not to bite even under those conditions, but his face flushed with pain and lack of oxygen, since he could not breathe around his father's huge cock. He ignored all needs of his body in the intense thrill of the moment, accepting the plunging prick that pummeled his throat and the outpouring of parental passion, the only sign of acceptance he had ever gleaned from his brutal father, but that he now realized was the very essence of masculinity.



CHAPTER SEVEN



Andy was growing and developing rapidly, his body still lean but becoming more powerful. His tennis became almost an obsession, second only to servicing his father, and his school-work was third in importance. Sometimes the marks on his body, resulting from his father's wrath, became a source of embarrassment, however. He inspected his body carefully after particularly violent bedroom episodes and sometimes avoided stripping down to tennis togs if traces of belt-marks still showed on his back or legs. Even then, he wore sweat suits or jogging outfits and kept up his tennis lessons, doggedly working on his serve and driving returns whenever he could find a worthy opponent at school.



Sometimes Lonnie played with him at the school courts, but Andy soon outstripped him as he grew tall and expert. Then Lonnie graduated and received a basketball scholarship to a major university. Andy was left with the tennis coach at school, a bored, lazy former professional who was more interested in chasing women than careful instruction to his challenging pupil. All too often, Andy was left to batting balls against the backboard by himself.



Because of welts, Andy began to avoid changing clothes and showering with other students in the school locker rooms. Usually, he waited until the other students had gone home before showering after a strenuous after-school session on the courts. That was the case one afternoon when he entered the locker room. It was deserted, although there were a couple of guys still running around the football field. Andy stripped, threw his sweat-suit into the locker, then padded to the empty showers.



He stood under the warm tap for several minutes, allowing the water to bathe his tired muscles and his back, which still bore faint marks of his father's treatment. His mind drifted to the previous night, and he remembered vividly the violence of his father's huge prick being shoved into his tortured ass. Forbes' rough hands had spread his firm buns, and his stiff cockmeat stretched Andy's tender asshole, shoving deep into his very center. His cock started to rise with the memory in the solitude of the shower room.



Suddenly, he realized that he was not alone. The husky football coach hung a towel on the rack outside, and as he entered the shower, he was surprised by Andy's presence. He was large and hairy, with the heavy muscles and thick legs of the professional football player which he had been. Sam had always admired him almost to the point of worship, Andy remembered. Andy had never had much contact with him since he did not have the build for football. But now his presence was startling, especially since Andy only then realized that he was partially excited from his memories.



"Oh, hello, Andy," Coach Burke said. "I thought everyone had gone by now. Doing a late stint on the tennis court?"



Andy quickly turned his face to the wall to hide his hard-on, but in the instant before he turned, the picture of the nude coach was clearly imprinted on his mind. His first thought was how much the coach resembled his father -- bulky, hairy, thickly muscled, and with a large, thick cock swaying as he walked. He flushed, desire suddenly flaming, and his cock inched upward even more.



"Uh, yeah, tryin' to get in shape for the tournament," he finally muttered, trying to collect his thoughts and divert them away from the massive presence.



"Oh, yeah, the tournament," the coach nodded as he twisted the knob next to Andy. The partial arousal of the trim tennis player had not escaped the coach's eye. As he adjusted the water temperature, his gaze roved over the boy's broadening shoulders, muscled legs, and trim ass. The boy was obviously trying to hide his front from view.



"I hear you're pretty good on that court. No one else in school is much competition anymore. You should do well in the league tournament." His voice was casual, although his thoughts were quite different.



"I -- uh -- hope so," Andy gulped, still trying to control his urges. He soaped up his front, then turned away from the coach. But as soon as he touched near his crotch, his cock grew to full staff.



"Looks like your body is developing well, along the lines of the tennis player," the coach said after a moment of silence. "Your legs are pretty good." At the moment, they were trembling, but the coach could not detect that. Andy didn't answer, fearing what his voice would reveal.



"Maybe you should work on your pecs a little, though."



This was a new term for Andy. "Pecs?"



"Yes, your pectoral muscles, which have to be strong for good serves and returns," the coach answered. Suddenly, he grasped the boy by the shoulders, and he turned him around, gripping the bulge of muscle and nipple in a rough paw. Andy was startled, then embarrassed, since his rampant cock was then in full view, and he noticed that the coach eyed it with interest.



"You know, I used to know your brother, Sam, uh -- very well. He was one of my star players, and, uh, sometimes stayed late after practice. He was fond of massages, especially in the shower."



The coach gripped Andy's stiff cock possessively in a soapy fist, and Andy lurched with the unexpected pleasure. As the athlete's fist began to move, pulling his foreskin forward almost painfully, Andy stiffened and closed his eyes. He had almost forgotten how exciting it was for a man to touch him that way; his father would never reciprocate in any manner.



"You're pretty hot, aren't you, Andy? Gettin' to be a real stud, boy. That's a real nice cock there, a real man's cock. You need a little release after a good workout."



The coach was beginning to move his hand more rapidly, the fingers gripping hard and rotating around the teenager's pink prickhead as he moved. The soap bubbled and frothed, as did Andy's thoughts. The warm water continued to flood their bodies, glistening in the dim light.



Andy could only stand rigid as the man had his way. His fist felt so good, the man so exciting, that he lost himself in rising passion. All else was blotted out of his mind, and his balls started to tingle as his juices boiled.



"Hot little stud," the coach almost crooned. With his other hand, he gripped one asscheek, a firm handful of young muscle that inflamed the coach's desires even more. "Pretty ass, too, boy. You like what I'm doin'?"



There was no need to answer, even if Andy could have. His back arched and his head snapped back; the double assault on his cock and ass had brought him to the peak. His first spurt of cum splattered the coach's belly with hot juice.



"Yeah, kid, give it to me. Squirt that cum at me, boy!" the coach growled. He directed the next spurt directly at his own cock, watching it dribble down the shaft before being washed away by the drenching shower. Jet after jet of jism flew wildly from the young prick in the experienced fist, to be washed down the drain. Andy's knees were bent, his entire being seeming to flow high and wide as the coach brought him off in a glorious explosion. The coach gripped his ass hard, then a thick finger probed his asshole, increasing the joy of that supreme moment.



Even before Andy had squirted his last, the coach roughly turned him around again and released his cock.



"That's an awful nice ass, too, Andy. I think it's time to try it out!"



The coach's prick was rock-hard, his large cockhead glistening from a few drops of Andy's cum and the water. He inserted his thick finger roughly into the boy and felt an answering reaction from the stretched muscles. He pulled the boy against him, his thick cock separating the taut asscheeks, and Andy did not move away. His spirits were still soaring from his own orgasm, but that huge cock pressing against his ass reactivated his passions. He moved from side to side to indicate his willingness.



"Oh, yeah, boy, gonna plug ya right here and now," the coach moaned. "I'm gonna fuck that pretty ass, just like I wanted to fuck your brother, but he would never let me. Bend over, kid!"



Dumbly, Andy bent down, his trim ass set for welcoming that thick prick. He braced himself against the wall, expecting the brutal onslaught his father always enjoyed, anticipating that painful, passion-producing invasion that stretched his asshole and brought his being to peaking pleasure. But instead, he felt again the finger, now coated with soap, exploring rather gently, in and out, spreading and dilating to considerately prepare him.



Come on, fuck me! his mind demanded. Instead, the coach gently prepared him, unaware of Andy's experience and desires for rought treatment. But finally, he placed his broad cockhead at the boy's assmouth, then pushed gently. It entered smoothly and painlessly, surprising the coach. He pushed again, this time sinking balls-deep into the young boy.



"Oh, yeah, Andy, beautiful -- so hot and tight -- all of it in you! Beautiful buns, beautiful asshole, meant for a man's cock! I'll take it easy -- try not to hurt you -- gotta shoot my load up your ass!"



The huge cock felt great inside, but even the coach's rough hands on his hips, pulling the boy toward his hairy crotch, was not violent enough for Andy, leaving him vaguely dissatisfied. The coach was too gentle!



"Fuck me, fuck me hard," Andy whispered, but the coach could not hear over the sounds of the running water. Instead, he moved slowly and gently, thrilling to the hot ass clutching his thick prick, the young ass in his hands, the willing athlete succumbing to his wishes.



Andy gripped his own cock, still hard, and began to jerk it rapidly. That increased his enjoyment, even though he had cum only moments before, and the coach finally forgot his concern. His own juices began to boil and his actions became more violent.



"Beautiful, man," the coach murmured again and again. "Feel my prick deep in your guts, boy, gonna fuck you hard! Can you take it?"



"Yes, fuck me hard, harder!" Andy almost shouted this time.



The coach needed no further encouragement. He attacked with force this time, ramming his rigid prick in and out, his pistoning cock plunging, his hairy balls slapping with each thrust. He jarred the muscular boy with teeth-rattling jabs, each one bringing him closer to the ultimate release.



"Gonna cum, kid, gonna fill you with my cum, hot, hot ass takin' it all... Here it comes, boy, cumming -- cumming -- take it!"



And Andy took it, every drop.



CHAPTER EIGHT



Andy did well in the tournament and became an overnight star at school. Suddenly, girls began to buzz around him, and other athletes treated him with new respect. Andy was the first tennis player in their school to achieve recognition, and the experience was new for Andy, also.



The girls didn't interest him at all, and sometimes it was embarrassing, not being able to respond as they thought he should. Some of the other male athletes were much more interesting, but somehow he knew that, even if he could arrange some kind of sexual situation with them, they would not know how to satisfy his desires.



Coach Burke seemed to avoid him after that time in the shower. Andy guessed that he was afraid Andy might tell someone about being raped by the coach. In actuality, the coach had guilt feelings about the rough treatment he gave the boy, and hoped that he had not been injured. He avoided any meeting like the previous one.



Andy remembered vividly the final few minutes of their encounter and would not have discouraged further episodes, but was too shy to make the first move. Finally one day, however, after everyone else had left and Andy knew the coach was in his office alone, he calmly walked in. Without a word, he knelt in front of the coach, took out his cock, and sucked him to a tremendous orgasm. This shocked the coach, and he became even more cautious. Andy gave up. His father remained his one outlet.



That year, Andy graduated from high school, and the family got word from Sam. Actually, word first came from a neighbor who mentioned that she had seen Sam wearing a police uniform, in a neighboring city. Forbes called and found that Sam was indeed living there and was on the police force. Then finally Sam called, reported that he had two children by then, had graduated from the police academy, and would contact them again soon.



For a while, Forbes seemed distracted and morose, the brief contact with Sam apparently opening up old wounds. He became even more brutal in his sex with Andy, but the young man was used to it by now, and it even increased his enjoyment.



Andy began teaching tennis at a local country club, but he was bored. Then one day, he was noticed by other tennis players in town for a professional tournament, and when they left on tour, Andy went with them.



Andy learned a lot in the next few months. He learned a lot about his craft, but also about other athletes and their social behavior. The girls on the tour regularly treated him with contempt or just ignored him, which was okay with Andy. When he mentioned their apparent dislike of him to another player, his friend only laughed.



"Don't worry about it, Andy. They're all lesbians, anyway, didn't you know? Rhoda and Sandy are lovers and always fighting. Both are jealous as hell of anybody else. Billie Jo is a tough diesel-dyke, going out cruising for young girls in every town we land in. And they don't like handsome young men, no matter who they are."



One night, at a party in an upstairs room of a country club, Andy was cajoled into smoking marijuana. He soon found himself floating in a constantly moving sea of faces and bodies, all somewhat familiar, but still strange. He sat quietly in a chair, watching all the movement around him, but too foggy to respond. But then Andy realized that someone was squatting on the floor in front of him, with a hand on his crotch.



"You don't mind, do you?" a high but masculine voice came out of the blue sea. Andy didn't answer; he was not sure it was actually happening.



But then the hand became more than a disembodied object as it unzipped his fly, then grasped his cock inside his pants. The warmth immediately started the inevitable reaction, but it took some time before Andy realized that he was getting hard. By then, the hand had fished his prick out, and it was too late.



"That's pretty, real nice," the voice said. Andy strained to bring the fuzzy face into focus. It was Steve, another player on his tour, whom Andy had noticed as being quite effeminate. "Can I suck it?"



Andy could not react. The others at the party seemed to pay no attention to them, which was strange in itself, almost as if they were invisible. There was a couple -- two guys, he thought -- in a sixty-nine position on the floor nearby, making gobbling sounds. And then he felt a warm, moist mouth settle on his cockhead, a gentle tongue lapping, and warm lips tracing the vein down his rigid prickshaft. Without further thought, he thrust upward, burying his cock in the throat of the kneeling young man.



Steve sputtered and drew back. "Please, honey, not so hard! Mama likes it slow and gentle! Just relax and let me do it, baby."



Oh, so gently, Steve sucked in tantalizing circles, his lips kissing and caressing, nibbling gently. Andy had had no sex except with his hand for weeks, and any touch was welcome, even in that setting. But the slow, gentle approach only increased his desire for more vigorous activity. He needed a man, and Steve was not it!



He thrust again and again, but each time, Steve drew back disapprovingly. "Not so hard, honey! Gracious, you'll hurt my throat!"



"What's the matter, Stevie, too much for you to handle?"



Andy looked up vacantly at the towering shape standing beside his chair. At length, he realized that it was one of their hosts, the owner of the country club where they had played the tournament. He was middle-aged but muscular, with short-cropped hair and a heavy beard shadow on his rugged face. He smiled down at Andy with a glint in his eye, almost a sneer.



"Too much for you to handle, Stephanie? Obviously, he wants it rough, and you'll never do, don't you see?"



Steve glared up at him. "Andy's just a boy, fresh out of school. He needs a little mothering, don't you, baby?" Andy did not respond. "He's not ready for your thing, Roy," Steve continued after a pause.



"We'll see about that! Come on, Andy, you're coming with me." Roy gripped Andy by one arm, and he literally hauled him out of the chair, through the door, and up some stairs to his private suite. Andy stumbled along blindly, not really caring what was happening, his stiff cock still protruding from his open fly.



Once inside, Roy flipped on some dim, pink lights and easily threw Andy to the floor, which was covered in gymnasium mats. Andy's mind cleared a little -- this was more like it!



Roy lost no time in stripping, quickly revealing a hard, muscular frame covered with dark, crisp hair and a huge cock, already well on the way to full staff. "Get undressed!" he commanded.



Andy could not react quickly to anything, and only stared in fascination at the masculine figure towering over him.



"I said get undressed!" Roy snarled and cuffed his face repeatedly. Andy only grinned, beginning to enjoy it.



Impatiently, Roy jerked him to his feet and ripped off his clothes. Then he sent him sprawling to the floor again with a shove. "Take off your shoes, kid, before I beat you to a pulp!"



Slowly, Andy managed to remove his shoes and socks, then sat crouched on the mat, looking to his master for further instructions. His eyes remained focused on that huge prick which bobbed between thick, hairy legs. The cock was also hairy, more of that black bush growing down the shaft nearly to the head. What a stud!



"Come here, you," Roy growled, jerking him up and toward the center of the floor. Two chains hung from the ceiling beams. At the end of each chain was a leather manacle which Roy quickly fastened to Andy's wrists, adjusting the chain length so he was pulled up on tiptoes. His young, trim body was stretched taut, all his muscles standing out sharply in the dim light.



"You're too slow, boy! When I tell you, do something, you jump to do it! Understand? Maybe you'll remember after a little instruction, eh?"



From a black box in the corner, Roy brought out a black object which Andy could not see clearly. In a moment, however, he felt it! The thongs of a cat-o'-nine-tails whistled down on his back, swung viciously by the sadist's hand. The next blow was squarely on his bare ass, leaving pink marks. He lurched and pulled against his bonds to no avail. He could barely touch the floor. Again, the whip lashed down across his ass, which gradually became a mottled pink as the whipping proceeded.



"You understand now, Andy? I'm your master, and you will do what I say, when I say it!"



The fog in Andy's brain was clearing somewhat, but he knew that this was what he needed, a strong man to impose his will, to punish him if he did not respond properly. But he said nothing. This appeared to anger Roy even more.



Again, he turned to the box for more equipment. He stood before Andy, a small device in his hand. Deftly, he gripped the boy's right nipple. Andy cringed. Then Roy clamped the device -- an electrical clamp used to make contact with terminals -- to the tender nipple. The teeth dug deeply into his virgin tit. Andy screamed with pain for the first time. Roy smiled dangerously.



"Finally getting the drift, eh, boy? Let me get this other one on, too. Wouldn't do to have only one nipple decorated, would it?" He clamped another on his left nipple, and Andy gritted his teeth, bearing the pain as stoically as possible. Again, Roy was displeased.



"Big tough guy, eh? Not heavy enough for you, eh?" Again, he padded to the box of horrors, then returned with some leather thongs and other equipment. Taking Andy's stiff cock in his fist, he tied the leather thong around his cock and balls, pulling the slip knot tightly to restrict the blood flow.



"That looks better! Leather makes the man! Now to hang on the weight."



To the thongs, Roy attached a heavy weight to hang a foot or so below his balls. He let the weight drop, watching Andy's face. It pulled hard and viciously; his cock felt like it weighed the world, and the thongs pulled pubic hair, but the stiffness did not diminish. If anything, it increased.



By now, he was in a sea of pain. His arms were stretched high and tightly, and they were becoming numb. His leg muscles quivered from trying to stand taller to relieve the pressure. His nipples seemed red hot, the clamps biting in to bring a trickle of blood which ran down his taut belly into his pubic hair. The cock weight and ring only accentuated his arousal, adding a dull ache to the other woes.



Roy smiled approvingly for the first time. "I knew you had it in you, kid! You like to be mastered, don't you? Let's see if we can get that big cock of yours any stiffer." Picking up the whip again, he swung hard, concentrating on the entrapped cock and tender balls already engorged with blood. Andy almost blacked out as the whip fell on his most sensitive parts, the thongs wrapping themselves around his projecting prick and biting into his ball-sac with each stroke. And Roy was correct; despite the pain and blood-letting, Andy's cock grew even harder and jerked spasmodically, his juices flowing faster and faster. Roy's cock was also rock-hard, a gigantic club swinging from thigh to thigh as the big man administered punishment.



"Yeah, you need my little leather friend, don't you, Andy? You need this -- and this -- and maybe one more!"



Roy knew exactly what he was doing, for immediately after the third blow, Andy's cock jetted powerfully, despite the tight cockring and the other painful toys. Spurt after spurt gushed unattended from his abused prick, and Roy laughed as he watched. He caught some in his hands, then began to smooth it over on his own hairy belly, laughing joyously. Catching another handful, he spread it over his huge prick, his own hands bringing him close to climax.



Andy twitched and moaned, swinging from the chains, awash in pain and pleasure, a total sex slave, his balls unloading their accumulation of many weeks. Never had his orgasm been so complete, so draining of all his energy, and as it passed, he hung limply from the chains, nearly unconscious.



Roy watched silently for a moment, a sneer on his rugged face, his hands still working his cock, slippery with the slave's jism. Then he picked up his whip again, and he gripped Andy's asscheek hard. This time, using the handle as a giant dildo, he inserted it teasingly between the slave's buns.



"Now that you got your rocks off, kid, we can get down to more serious business. Let's see how much of this dildo your ass can take. See those studs with the little sharp corners? I'm goin' to ram it up your ass to open it up for my cock, see? Like this!"



He suddenly jabbed the blunt end inward, the studs on the three-inch-diameter club cutting painfully. Again, Andy screamed. He tried to kick the man away, but only swung aimlessly on his tethers.



"Yeah, Andy, that's what your master's cock feels like, only bigger! Take another inch or so!"



Again he jabbed, and the handle entered farther, more studs ripping the tender skin. Andy almost fainted. If he could only raise his legs to open up more, maybe it wouldn't be so bad! That meant his entire weight would rest on his manacled arms, but he had to try! He raised his legs and spread them, opening his ass to relieve the tension.



This was apparently what Roy waited for. "Ah, you're ready, are you? You want to be fucked, Andy? Tell me, do you want me to fuck you?" Roy roared.



"Yes," Andy gasped.



"What? Speak louder!"



"Yes! Yes!"



"Yes, Sir!" Roy thundered, rotating the dildo so the studs tore more tissues. By now, it was red with blood.



"Yes, Sir!" Andy cried obediently.



Roy was satisfied. "That's better." Abruptly, he withdrew the leather dildo, causing even more pain than when he had inserted it. Andy nearly collapsed. His legs could not support him any longer, and he sagged on the chains, his head hanging slack.



Roy ignored his sorry state. Coming to Andy's front again, he easily lifted the athlete's slack legs, cradling them in his arms, and pulled Andy's ass toward him. Andy was only supported by the chains and those hairy arms, but the arms felt almost comforting after his ordeal. Roy spread Andy's legs widely and looked at his ravaged asshole, the blood dripping slowly.



"Nothing like a little blood for lubrication," he muttered, and brought Andy's asshole close, letting some blood drip on his rigid prick. Then he immediately shoved in all the way.



Andy grimaced, since the cock was much longer than the dildo had been, and the inner channel had not relaxed. But after a moment, it felt almost good, warm and filling, throbbing with a life of its own, reminding him of other times, happier times.



"Ahhhh," Roy breathed rapturously. "It's as good, maybe better than I thought it would be. Hot ass gripping my prick like a tight fist, taking it all to the balls! That's what you need, kid -- a big prick shoved in your gut after a little workout!"



Roy gripped Andy's firm buns in rough hands, squeezing hard, pulling his pendant ass toward him as he lurched forward. Suddenly, Andy forgot all the torture, the intolerable weight on his arms, everything but that hot cock in his gut and the totally masculine man who had subdued him, made him his slave.



"Oh, yessss," he hissed, his pot-fogged brain finally focusing on the one good thing at the moment -- the man's cock deep in his ass. "Fuck!"



And Roy fucked, hard and fast, then slow and easy, then like a trip-hammer, forcing every inch as deep as possible.



Roy laughed loudly. "Your cock's hard again, Andy. You love it, don't you? You love a man's prick up your ass. Take it -- ramming it home -- gonna get my nuts -- too quick!" Suddenly, Roy realized that his orgasm was upon him, and there was no stopping.



"Blast you!" he swore. "Not so soon!" He behaved as if it was Andy's fault that his excitement had gone past the point of no return. "Ugh!"



His first spurt bathed Andy's ass channel with a massive flow of soothing cream. Roy pulled the athlete's ass tightly against him and pummeled it with cock and crotch, swearing mightily as he blasted forth. And then Andy joined him, again with cock untouched, spewing his second load up over their nudging bellies. This seemed to drive Roy even faster, and his own jets contined to fire for what seemed like several minutes.



CHAPTER NINE



Andy inspected himself in the mirror the next morning and found pink stripes across his back and ass. He had spent hours in a hot tub the night before, as suggested by his tormentor, Roy, and his asshole, while very sore, was already starting to heal. His nipples still bore the marks of the clamp teeth, but aside from some swelling, seemed on the road to recovery. His cock and halls, while showing faint marks of the whip, were seemingly none the worse for wear.



The troop bused to their next stop only about fifty miles away, but it was a painful journey for Andy, his ass throbbing all the way. Steve was very sympathetic. "I should have told you about that one," he anguished. "We all knew about his peculiar tastes, but who knew that he would single you out for a session? Are you all right?"



Although Andy had never considered Steve as a sex partner, he appreciated his concern and welcomed his friendship. "When I get off this bus and can stand up, I'll feel better," he answered ruefully. "Maybe some exercise on the court when we arrive will help my aching muscles." While it had been one of the most exciting encounters of his life, Andy admitted to himself, it was too dangerous to play around at that level of sadomasochism. He was just learning the terms and the rules of the game.



After getting settled in the new hotel room, Andy donned -- with accompanying groans -- his sweat outfit, which covered his body, and he set out for the courts. Some of the others drifted in, looking hung-over, and played in brief snatches, many glances being directed toward Andy and his dogged exercise program. Eventually, though, Andy gave up and retired to the showers before the others.



He stood alone under the beating water in the shower, letting the flowing warmth soothe his aching body. He remembered that day in the shower at school, when the football coach, resembling Roy to some extent, bent him over and fucked him thoroughly. And then he thought of Sam, who apparently had had frequent encounters with the coach. Wonder where Sam is now, he mused. He vividly remembered Sam's cock thrusting deeply into his body, his hairy body straining and moaning in ecstasy as Andy serviced him...



Steve entered the shower. He was tall and handsome, moving with the liquid grace of a model. He worked continuously to build up his body until his muscles were defined sharply. This made him popular with the girls in the stands, although he couldn't care less about them.



"Let me see, Andy," he murmured. "Let me see what that brute did to you!"



Andy turned his back, more to hide his cock, which had started to rise with his ruminations, than to show Steve his wounds.



"OOOOOOh," Steve cooed, his fingertips tracing the pink stripes on his back. "That bastard, bruising your beautiful body..." His lips touched a particularly reddened area. "Let me kiss away the pain."



Despite himself, the lips were soothing, Andy admitted, and Steve moved along a pink line, his lips and tongue cooling and caressing across his broad back. Andy closed his eyes, enjoying the attention, the admiration, even from Steve. The warm water continued to stream down, adding to the comfort and soothing contact.



Suddenly, he felt tender lips on one nipple, and they couldn't be Steve's! Steve was still tracing the stripes on his back, moving lower, toward his tortured asshole. Andy's eyes popped open and he saw another player, Gordon, kissing his nipples as he fondled himself.



Gordon looked up, his dark eyes tender in his handsome, tanned face. "Do you mind, Andy?" he asked. "We've all wanted to make it with you, but you were so distant, we thought maybe you were straight. After last night, though..."



Andy did not answer, but merely closed his eyes, wanting to retreat to the calm and rejuvenating mood Steve had started. Gordon took this as consent, and bent to kiss again Andy's ravaged nipples, careful not to cause pain.



Steve began to kiss the welts on Andy's firm ass, then to run his tongue along them, skipping over the deep valley. Andy began to tremble, feeling he was the center of concern and love for the first time in his life. Gordon's lips moved across his broad chest, teasing the light hairs that grew between his nipples and extended down his belly. Andy stood transfixed, his eyes still closed, as Gordon settled on his shallow navel, his tongue lapping gently, water streaming over their bodies.



Steve moved into the cleft between Andy's buns, lapping the sensitive tissues. Andy moaned softly, his legs spreading in appreciation. There was a quiet response through his body, a stirring that was warm, but not compelling. Still, his cock rose in response, and the reaction was not ignored by Gordon.



The tennis player grasped Andy's stiffening prick firmly, the answering throbbing mute testimony to the success of his tenderness. His lips ranged through the soft blond pubic bush as his hand stroked Andy's long, stiff prick, and then his mouth opened to engulf his pink cockhead. Andy moaned, but remained still, his eyes closed, his surrender now complete, especially as Steve lapped gently around his asshole, bringing soothing relief to the torn tissues.



Gordon began his trip down Andy's protruding cock slowly, but then, with a grunt, his head was shoved suddenly into Andy's crotch. "Don't stop, Gordon," a new voice echoed softly in the cavernous tiled room. Andy's eyes opened briefly to see the newcomer, Ron, entering Gordon's upturned ass with a long, stiff prick. He held Gordon's hips in his hands, a smile broadening on his tanned face as Gordon's hot ass took his rampant cock.



Gordon grasped Andy's thighs to brace himself against the new invasion, but did not stop his adoration of the still enlarging cock in his mouth. As Ron shoved deep, Gordon hummed around the cock in his throat, adding a new dimension of sensation to Andy's enjoyment. As Ron began to thrust in and out, Andy watched in fascination, the long, thick cock disappearing into Gordon's ass a turn-on to add to his gradually building excitement.



The faces of two other tennis players appeared at the door of the shower, at first showing surprise at the scene of the three men having sex under the spraying water, then smiling as their own juices began to flow. They padded in to stand in a circle for a moment, watching Andy and the others in total involvement with each other, and their hands dropped to their rising cocks. Andy's gaze flicked from cock to cock, a smile broadening on his own face as Gordon's hot mouth swallowed his throbbing prick.



The newcomers came to stand at each side of Andy, and he reached out for their pricks. They moved closer, and his fingers closed on their stiffening cockshafts, the men's faces immediately responding to the welcome grasp. One bent to fasten his lips tenderly on Andy's nipple and, as Andy began to stroke their rigid pricks, the other followed suit. Their lips gently caressed his injured nipples, causing little pain, but mostly soothing balm. Andy began to tense under the combined pressure from the tongue lapping his asshole, the warm suction on his throbbing cock, the hard pricks in both hands, and the visual stimulation of watching Gordon being fucked long and deep. Gordon gripped his thighs tightly, moaning with the double thrusts from front and rear.



Again, Andy's eyes closed, his entire body, it seemed, awakening to the total involvement with the other athletes, the total consumption of ass and cock and hands and nipples with maleness, and the feeling of helpless domination by the handsome men.



One mouth left his nipple and fastened gently, then more firmly, on his lips. Andy had rarely kissed a man, finding his satisfaction in the more violent expressions. But at that moment, it was extremely satisfying to feel that closeness, that intimacy of tongues communicating masculine love one to another, and his brain swam with a new excitement as his cock throbbed threateningly in Gordon's worshiping mouth.



Then Steve rose, his tongue working slowly up Andy's back, then lapping tenderly on Andy's neck, his lips kissing and soothing. He placed his arms around Andy's waist, and his long cock filled his ass crease, his pubic hair grating against Andy's firm buns, which moved in circles against his writhing body. Andy's grip on the overheated cocks tightened, his strokes increasing in tempo, and his tongue dueled with the man kissing him passionately.



"Hot ass," Ron moaned, thrusting deeper and deeper into Gordon's body.



"Beautiful Andy," Steve murmured in his ear, his stiff cock moving between Andy's clenched asscheeks. Gordon gobbled avidly, sensing Andy's climax approaching, his own prick throbbing in his jacking fist.



Andy could feel the tension building in all the men, each turned on to the other, each reacting in his own way to his place in the sexual scheme, all wanting to please Andy. Ron's grunts became louder and more urgent. Andy's eyes met Ron's and their gazes locked together, each watching the other's face, living simultaneously the excitement of the moment. Gordon was the common link, his body the conduit into which Andy and Ron would soon discharge their maleness, the outpouring of their passions.



Ron gripped his own balls hard as he felt the beginning of his climax. At that moment, Gordon also gripped Andy's balls, still tender from the vicious whip. Immediately, both Ron and Andy arched their backs with a snap, their eyes still locked together in total communion, and bursts of cum flooded Gordon from both ends.



For Andy it was not an explosion, but the peak of a gradual crescendo bursting through the surface. The flow swept him along the tide, up and up, cum frothing in Gordon's happy mouth as his ass was filled with Ron's surging waves. Andy continued to watch Ron plunging wildly, gripping his balls as if he was afraid to lose them also in Gordon's hot ass, his face a mirror of Andy's. As long as Ron continued to plunge, as long as he continued to shoot jism, Andy maintained his peak. And as Ron gradually returned to earth, his ass fucking more slowing, Andy began to weaken, his knees to quiver, and his body grew limp with exhaustion. One more weak spurt, then he slumped into Steve's encircling arms.



Steve held him for a moment, then lowered him gently to the tile floor. Andy lay flaccid, his cock still dribbling the last drops of his passion out of the reach of the beating shower. Ron also slumped against the wall, his breathing rapid and ragged.



Andy looked up at Steve standing over him, his cock in his hand. He smiled up at him gratefully. Steve drew near, as did Gordon, both stroking their stiff cocks near climax, and then the other two athletes joined them. Andy's excitement grew again, looking up at the four aroused men, fists jacking pulsating pricks, all directed at him. They spread their muscular legs and strained toward him, each following his unique path to masculine joy as he stared at Andy.



Gordon reached his peak first, and a long stream of white cream struck Andy in the face, coating his chin, streaming across his mouth and into his hair. He was immediately followed by Steve, whose first spurt started on Andy's heaving chest and shooting up to end at his mouth. Andy licked up the cum ravenously, as much as he could catch with his tongue. Then the other men squirted him simultaneously from both sides, over his chest and chin. Four rampant pricks covered Andy with their potent passions, white gobs of jism spattering him, dousing him with their heat and virility.



Andy began to smooth the cascading cream over his chest and looped it into his mouth with his fingers as the spurting storm continued. The four men groaned with joyful anguish, watching him glory in and consume their body essences, given freely and without restraint to the handsome athlete. Their fists beat rapidly, cum flying all over Andy, until their balls were drained.



Andy licked his cum-streaked lips and grinned happily. They smeared the juices remaining on their tired fists over his mouth, and he licked gratefully. When it was all gone and the men slumped against each other in total satiation, Andy's eyes closed, all pain gone, feeling one with his buddies at last.



CHAPTER TEN



Andy felt much more at home with the players in his troop after that day in the shower, although they never indulged in such play again. He watched the others cruise on later occasions, frequently finding sex partners among spectators and competitors, and sometimes indulging in group sex at parties. He envied the other athletes for their relatively straightforward approach to male sex, because it was not really for him.



As the tour continued and his memories of the horrible experience with Roy faded, his fantasies of rape and submission became more explicit and demanding, and he unconsciously sought out situations which might culminate in being mastered. Only when an exaggeratedly masculine figure forced him to submit to a slave role was Andy truly turned on.



From time to time, he met attractive men who fitted his idea of an acceptable sex partner. He even had an affair of several weeks with an agent of one of the players in his troop. But there was always something missing, some element of the masculine mystique which he needed before being able to throw himself totally into the submissive role. It was only then that he could be satisfied. Usually, his sex partners revealed a softness, a tenderness which Andy could not accept, and which lowered his respect for the man as a master.



He quickly learned that a stranger, a masculine figure which he would never see again, was preferable to a steady affair, since there would not be an opportunity to discover his weakness. A one-night stand could be temporarily satisfying, his only relief, if he was to experience that total satisfaction which came only from submitting to humiliation and subservience.



As they traveled from city to city, he began to frequent dingy bars in the ghettos, hoping to find rough men who would force him to submit to their will. Occasionally, he met such men. At first, he tried leather bars, gay bars where men with fetishes for leather congregated. Masters strutted arrogantly there, draped in shiny black leather pants, jackets, chains, studded belts and handcuffs to attract slaves. After several episodes with these men, he decided that approach was not very fruitful. When the couple was alone, frequently, the master would beg to be fucked by Andy, especially when he saw Andy's muscular body and the large prick the handsome tennis player displayed between his legs. So Andy returned to the straight bars, the raunchy bars with winos and unemployed truckdrivers and pimps, where the picking was better.



One night, in an east coast city, he roamed from bar to bar, looking for that special figure who seemed rough and tough enough to fuck his ass like it should be fucked. It seemed that the possibilities he encountered were either too drunk or too dirty, but Andy was getting hornier by the minute. Eventually, he gave up and strolled down the dark street, wondering if he would have to jerk off again, his mind filling the void with fantasies. He happened to glance down a very dark alley and saw a bulky shadow near an old brick building, probably urinating against the wall. On impulse, he entered the alley and stopped only a few feet away from the figure. He could not see, but heard and smelled the stream of yellow piss the man was directing against the dark bricks.



The man looked up briefly but continued his task.



Andy tried to urinate, but was becoming excited by the burly figure, the thrill of the unknown, the possibilities. He could see that the man had a rough beard stubble, and that he was dressed in ill-fitting clothes. That combination caused his pulse to race and his cock to grow in his hand.



"The pause that refreshes," he said hoarsely and tritely. He had learned not to be original with such men, because their language capability was usually very restricted.



"Yeah," the man grunted noncommittally. Silence reigned. Andy would have to try again.



"Too much beer, I guess."



The shadowy figure turned to inspect Andy in the darkness. Since the light from the main street was behind Andy, the man could see a tall, well-built young man in too-clean Levi's and an equally clean polo shirt. The intruder was holding what appeared to be a long cock in his hand, but was not urinating as he pretended. That was enough for the street-wise wino. "Ya want it, huh?"



A shiver went through Andy. This man knew the score. Maybe he wouldn't have to jerk off, after all! Still, he knew he could not be too forward; the man might beat him up right there in the alley!



"Uh... want what?" he responded, trying to put courage into his voice.



"You know what, and so do I!" the man growled. "You want to swing on my prick, don't ya? Want to suck off this cheesy cock, don't ya? Or maybe take it up your ass like a dog, don't ya?" the man insisted.



Andy could not control the shaking in his knees. To be talked to in this manner went a long way toward bringing him to that point of nirvana, when his cock would rear stiffly upward and blast its joy to the world.



"Uh -- yes, Sir," he answered properly, his cock rock-hard in his hand.



The man had finished urinating, but continued to hold his cock negligently in a grimy fist. He began to work it slowly, watching the young man's reaction. As expected, Andy could not tear his gaze away from the tubular shadow which was obviously enlarging.



"Got a place?" was the next question.



Did he dare take this man, this brute, back to his hotel where the rest of the troop was staying and probably partying at this very moment? Reluctantly he said, "No."



"Well, I ain't gonna do it on a park bench," the man growled, beginning to stuff his thickening cock back into his pants.



Andy couldn't let him get away! "But I can rent a hotel room!" he suggested quickly. The man pulled out his cock again. "That's better," he grunted. "There's the Winchester just up the street. Got any wine?"



"No, but we can get that, too," Andy quickly offered.



The wino was not finished bargaining. "It'll cost ya," he stated flatly, although just having a bed for the night was an unexpected windfall.



"How much?"



"Twenty," the man said flatly.



Andy hesitated. He tried to remember if he had brought enough money to pay the price, plus the hotel room, plus the wine, and still have cab fare to return to his hotel.



"I got a big one, kid," the man bragged, watching him closely and seeing his hesitation. When there was still no response he turned toward Andy, displaying a thick, uncircumcised cock with a dark prickhead just protruding from a ragged foreskin.



Andy's mouth began to water. "Uh -- I guess that'll be okay," he finally answered shakily. Immediately, the man replaced his cock in his dirty pants and said, "Come on, then." He led the way out of the alley and to a fleabag hotel less than a block away. As Andy followed him in better light, he could see that the man was probably in his forties, had a beard of several days which covered his face with bristly black stubble, and white streaks in his hair. His hands were thick and remained clenched almost in fists as if always ready to ward off an attack. He shuffled unsteadily in heel-worn work boots at least two sizes too large for his feet.



Andy tried to ignore the knowing, surly glances the hotel clerk gave him as he followed his escort to the elevator after paying the bill in advance.



"What about the wine?" the man growled loudly.



Andy turned back to the clerk reluctantly. The clerk nodded without being asked. "I'll bring up a jug. Thunderbird?"



"Yeah, that'll do fine," the man sneered, revealing several missing and broken teeth. When they were in the room, which contained only a sagging bed and a small, tilting table, the man turned to face Andy.



"The money first."



Again, Andy hesitated, but his cock was still twitching in his pants from the domineering manner of the masculine hulk. "How do I know..."



"Look, kid, now I got a bed, I ain't goin' nowhere 'til I get a good night's rest. Ain't had a good cum for a while, either, so when we get a little wine we're goin' to have a party, see? Like ya wanted, right? You'll get what's comin' to ya, you can bet on that!" It was definitely a threat and, again, Andy shivered with excitement and desire.



He placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and the man snatched it up, shoving it in his pocket.



A knock came at the door, the clerk with the jug of wine. He stood with his hand out, and Andy tipped him as required, trying to avoid his leering eyes.



The wino immediately twisted off the screw top and drank deeply. "Ahhhhh, that's more like it," he sighed, almost smiling.



Andy looked around for the door to the bathroom but there was none. Probably, there was a communal bathroom down the hall. He hadn't urinated in the alley, and now he felt the urge, but didn't want to leave the man alone. He might lock the door so Andy could not return.



The man was watching him closely and sensed his need.



"Use the plastic pitcher on the table there," he grunted. There apparently was no choice.



Andy held the pitcher and tried to urinate in it, but he was too excited, his cock was too hard, especially with the man watching every move. Finally, he turned away, to the amusement of the wino, and was eventually able to relieve himself. He placed the nearly full pitcher back on the table. Meanwhile, the wino was liberally helping himself to the wine from the jug.



"Take my clothes off," he finally said with a belch.



"Yes," Andy said uncertainly. "Do you mind if I turn off that overhead bulb?"



"Suit yourself," the wino shrugged.



A light from an outside sign furnished plenty of illumination. Trembling, Andy started to remove the clothes, stiffened with filth. The man refused to set down the jug, so Andy had to work around it.



The man's chest was broad and covered with hair, which continued down over his pot belly. His legs were also hairy, but thin and bowed, and his ass was flat and flabby. Nevertheless, Andy was not disappointed, as long as his manner remained commanding.



The man's cock was indeed thick, but soft, a long foreskin extending beyond the head. The strong aroma of weeks-old sweat, of unwashed armpits, cock, and asshole pervaded the room. These were almost aphrodisiacs to Andy, since he was degraded in seeking out such a character.



"Got a lot of cheese on my prick, kid. Lick it off!"



The wino stood with his back to the window, legs spread, jug in hand.



Andy reached a tentative hand toward his pendulous prick, but the wino slapped it away.



"On your knees, faggot!" he snarled. "Don't ya know how to serve a real man, cocksucker?"



Andy thrilled to the command. This man was a treasure! He knew instinctively how Andy wanted to be treated! Immediately, he dropped to his knees, subservient to the dirty but masculine figure. He crawled forward on his knees until the man's cock hung before his face. The distinct odor of scummed cock washed over him. And when he took it in his mouth, the taste was foul and pungent.



"Clean it off real good, faggot," the man ordered, taking another swig of wine.



Andy took it greedily, savoring the degrading task and the putrid prick. He stripped back the foreskin, then licked off the crumbling accumulation, the red head becoming clean and shiny as he worked. The man's cock also grew steadily, until it at least doubled in size and protruded in an arc from his hairy crotch.



"Yur a dirty cocksucker, ain't ya, kid -- like to be on yur knees, suckin' filthy prick, don't ya?" the man sneered down at him.



Andy merely nodded, his mouth filling with lengthening cock, his own prick pushing painfully against his pants.



"Take off yur clothes, faggot!" the man ordered.



Immediately, Andy obeyed, then stood nude, waiting for the next command.



The wino stared at the handsome young man, body trim and tanned, shoulders broad and belly flat, stiff cock long and throbbing. But he denied his own impulses and took another swig of wine.



"Been usin' newspaper when I take a shit, but it's pretty stiff. Reckon my asshole needs to be cleaned up," he snarled, seeming almost angry at the contrast between them. "Yes, Sir," Andy agreed, dropping to his knees again.



"Lay down! I'm gonna sit on yur face, yur pretty cocksuckin' face!"



"Yes," Andy breathed, stretching out on his back, his long cock rearing high.



The man stood straddling his face for a moment, staring down at the handsome face, then sat squarely down, his shit-smeared asshole directly over Andy's mouth. Andy moaned in pleasure as he attacked the dirty hole, licking off the traces of several craps and savoring the pungent odors. He tried to push his tongue up the channel, but the man growled and moved away.



"Yur not goin' to fuck me with your tongue, faggot! What d'ya think I am, a brownie queen?"



"No, Sir," Andy answered and waited for the next order, but he was not really prepared.



"Gotta piss," the man muttered, and immediately released a stream of pungent piss directly into Andy's face.



Andy opened his mouth and accepted the stream as he knew the man wanted him to do. The stream seemed to continue for several minutes, the sour piss flooding Andy and soaking his blond hair. Finally, it tapered off, and the wino shook the last drops in his face with a sneer.



Andy remained where he was, gulping the last.



"Still thirsty, ain't ya, boy?" The man picked up the plastic jug of Andy's piss, and he slowly poured that in his mouth also, chuckling as the cool liquid splashed in the athlete's handsome face. This time, Andy almost gagged, his own cool discharge more distasteful than the fresh piss from the wino's thick cock.



Again, the man laughed in his face until the jug was empty. "Now get up here and suck my cock! It needs a hot mouth like your'n, fancy pants!"



"Yes, Sir!" Andy agreed promptly, and scrambled to his knees at the wino's feet. He took the man's cockhead in his mouth eagerly, the long foreskin covering it until he stripped it back, exposing the shiny red knob.



"Yeah, suck it!"



Andy sucked and lapped up and down his prickshaft, the foreskin moving easily now that it had been cleaned. Then he inserted his tongue under the flap, running it around the head slowly, then rapidly, bringing an obvious weakness to the dirty old man's knees.



"Oh, shit, yeah, you know how to suck, kid!" His cock had grown to a huge size, thick and hard, thrilling Andy with its virile mass. And then the man grabbed his blond, wavy hair, pushing Andy's face deep into his crotch, face fucking the handsome young man viciously.



Andy grasped the man's thin, hairy legs, and he sucked hard. The wino released his head to drain the last of the wine from the jug, then dropped the jug to force Andy's face down again, burying his nose in pubic hair and the man's cockhead deep in his throat.



"Lay down, cocksucker!"



Immediately, Andy lay flat again, looking up at the drunken, grotesque figure. Awkwardly, the man straddled his head, holding his stiff cock in a dirty fist.



"Open yur mouth, cocksucker! Gonna fuck yur face like it oughta be fucked!" He moved forward, entering roughly, and then stretched out over Andy, his thick prick plunging deep into the welcoming throat. He thrust in and out, fucking deep, his hairy balls smacking Andy's chin with each thrust. Andy gloried in being used as an object, a masturbation substitute.



The man grunted and groaned, breathing hard with the effort, fucking his face brutally. "Fuckin' cocksucker -- hot mouth -- gonna get my nuts -- suck it! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Ughhhhhh!"



Swelling to even greater size, the huge cock burst in Andy's mouth, spraying him with hot cum, almost choking him. Spurt after spurt jetted powerfully, releasing a pent-up load of jism, and bringing on Andy's climax in his pumping hand. Andy swallowed every drop avidly, but his own cum sprayed his belly and the trembling man's legs with big gobs of white.



CHAPTER ELEVEN



Gradually, dim light filtered through his eyelids, and he opened them a crack. The fuzzy image of what looked like a plastic bag containing some clear fluid swam into focus. That didn't make any sense, so he closed his eyes again. When they opened again, the image was clearer, still a plastic bag, but the fluid level was lower. Then he could see that it was suspended on some sort of metal pole. He stared fixedly at it, trying to interpret the confusing picture.



"So you're finally going to wake up, eh?"



The gentle masculine voice came from the other side, and Andy slowly turned toward it. Only then did he realize that his head was swathed in some sort of bandage, and the movement shot a severe pain through his skull. He closed his eyes again, but when the pain subsided, he opened them, his gaze meeting more blur. When he concentrated more, the blur became a light oval with dark on the top and a dark streak through the middle. He felt a soft touch on one hand. Gradually, the oval blur became the face of a young man with curly brown hair, and the other dark streak was a mustache above smiling, full lips.



"Hi. How do you feel?" The voice was soft and low, friendly and concerned. Then Andy noted the eyes -- brown, with little green flecks in them. Very interesting, he thought.



Andy cleared his throat to speak, but only croaked. His mouth was dry and tasted foul. His tongue traced the outline of his lips, trying to moisten them. Immediately, a hand from near the oval face held a glass of water with a straw to his lips, and Andy sucked in a little water.



"Just a little this time, more later," the figure advised. He was dressed all in white -- like an angel, Andy thought -- except his arms were bare and liberally sprinkled with soft, curly brown hair.



"Where am I? What place is this?" Andy finally croaked.



"You are in Good Samaritan Hospital," the young man explained quietly. "You were found in an alley with a head wound and... other injuries. Do you remember what happened?"



An alley -- head wound -- didn't make sense. He started to move one leg and was immediately in severe pain again, this time in his lower back or ass!



"No -- oh!"



Other injuries?



"Apparently you were hit on the head and raped. You were in surgery for a while, but the doctor feels you will be okay. Can you remember what happened?"



Raped -- dark alley -- visions came floating back, horrible memories in snatches. It was coming back to him gradually. He closed his eyes again, not really wanting to remember.



"What city is this?" he finally asked. "This is Baltimore. My name's Blake. What's yours?"



That was easy. "Andy. Andy Forbes."



"Hi, Andy," the young man said almost casually. "It's a good sign that you remember your name. You had a bad crack on the head, but nothing broken. Maybe you had better get some more rest now. A nurse will be here in a minute to give you some medication for pain, and I'll see you later. Okay?"



Andy gripped his hand tighter. "Yes, later," he mumbled. The nurse appeared, gave him a shot, and Andy slept again.



When he awoke, a doctor was shining a light in his eyes, appearing relieved that he was conscious. The surgeon explained that some repairs had been necessary on his torn asshole but that would heal. He tested him for memory and brain function, and was apparently satisfied that he would be all right. But Andy could not tell him what had happened; that dark night was largely blocked from his memory. "Just as well, I suppose," the doctor muttered and left.



His ass was the most painful, and Andy spent much of the next two weeks on his belly, fed intravenously so he wouldn't have bowel movements. The nurses were kind. They bathed him and cared for him, but Blake did not make an appearance. Finally, Andy asked about him, and was told that Blake had taken a position in another hospital.



"Would you like me to contact him?" she asked kindly.



"No, that's okay," Andy responded. Then a couple of friends from the tennis troop arrived, and the nurse left.



The troop had to move on without him, Steve told him, eyes swimming with tears of sympathy, and Andy understood, appreciative of his concern. It was lonely after they left.



Andy was almost asleep that evening when a handsome face peeked in the door and said cheerily, "Hi! Remember me?"



"Blake!" Andy responded, immediately wide awake. "I was wondering if you had deserted me!"



"Sorry about that. I had a chance for a promotion in another hospital, so I transferred. I didn't know whether you would remember me or not. You were pretty confused that night."



"I remember your brown eyes with the green flecks in them," Andy responded with a smile, and Blake blushed. He sat, and they talked for a while before the nurse interrupted them, saying it was time for sleep.



Blake visited regularly after that, and they talked about all kinds of topics, except sex. Blake thought he should avoid that subject because it might bring back memories of Andy's assault. After a while, the nurses left them alone as long as Blake wanted to stay, knowing that he would take care of any of Andy's needs.



One night, Blake could not come to visit, and Andy spent the evening thinking long and hard. The next night, when Blake popped in, Andy asked him to sit on the bed next to him.



"Blake, I want to talk to you," he began, but then stopped abruptly.



"Sure, Andy," the orderly said questioningly.



Andy's hand rested on Blake's thigh casually. "You probably wondered what happened to me, why I ended up in a dark alley, beaten up. Well, it's because I'm a masochist. I like to be forced into sex, and sometimes that gets me into trouble. Can you understand that?"



Blake nodded and looked away for a moment. "I wondered about that," he said quietly. "And now I wonder if I can ever really love somebody -- without that violence, I mean," Andy continued, his voice low and intense.



Blake nodded without speaking, his eyes tender and fixed on Andy's. "And also, if someone could really love me..."



Immediately Blake responded. "Oh, of course, Andy -- I love you..." He colored, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to say that."



"Do you really?" Andy gripped his thigh tighter.



"Yes, Andy, I do." The answer was firm, the face composed but anxious. They stared into each other's eyes for a song moment. Then Andy's hand moved upward, feeling a thick bulge in Blake's crotch that enlarged under his touch.



"Then fuck me, right here and now!" Blake was astonished. "Fuck you! But you were injured!"



Andy was determined. "Yes, that's exactly why! Don't you see, it's because I was raped that I need love, now more than ever! Please, Blake, fuck me!"



He gripped the hard cock of the handsome orderly, ignoring the confusion in his face. Andy raised up and unzipped the orderly's fly, finally extracting a beautiful column of flesh which throbbed in his grip. Blake spread his legs, but made no other move. Andy managed to take it into his mouth, sucking it all the way, hungry for prickmeat after weeks of abstinence.



Blake groaned and trembled, then reached for Andy through the sheet. The throbbing fuckpole he encountered made him throw off the sheet, and they were soon sixty-nining on the bed, encumbered by clothes and sheets, but expressing love with their mouths and caressing hands. Andy thrust into the the handsome mouth, feeling the brown mustache on his balls and Blake's tongue lapping his stiff cock enthusiastically. He gripped the orderly's solid buns, then pulled Blake tightly to him, taking all his beautiful prick in his throat.



Blake began to quiver, his emotions on the surface, close to giving his all to the handsome tennis player. But Andy pulled back; though great, it was not what he really needed.



"Please, Blake, fuck me!" he demanded.



"But Andy -- it'll hurt you -- I couldn't bear to hurt you! You are not completely healed!"



"Please! I need you in my ass! Please put this beautiful prick in me and fuck me!" Reluctantly, Blake nodded. Andy turned on his belly, trembling with desire. Blake looked at his firm ass, which now showed no outward signs of damage, and bent to kiss the muscular mounds.



"Oh, yes," Andy breathed.



Blake's tongue moved into his asscrack, and Andy spread his legs, loving the warm tongue probing gently. Blake slipped off his pants, then knelt between Andy's legs, holding his cockhead at the athlete's ravaged assmouth. He spread some saliva on his throbbing cock-head, then pressed gently.



"Harder!" Andy demanded. But Blake, afraid of causing pain, proceeded very slowly, very gently. When he entered, there was no pain, and even when he pushed in another inch, Andy only begged for more.



Blake began to kiss his lover's broad shoulders and nibble his neck as he proceeded very slowly, inch by inch, penetrating Andy's relaxed ass. And then his balls were pressed against the athlete's ass, his soft pubic hair caressing the trim buns. Blake rested on his lover's back, his soft chest hair brushing the tanned skin lovingly.



"Now fuck me, fuck me hard!" Andy insisted.



But Blake set up a slow, gentle rhythm, in and out, his stiff cock probing deeply, but gently as he nibbled the young man's ears and neck.



"I love you, Andy... love you... don't want to hurt you, ever..."



Andy could scarcely feel the cock in his ass. He heard the words, words he wanted desperately to hear, but felt little answering thrill in himself. "Please fuck me hard!" Blake began to tremble more, his thrusts becoming a little stronger.



"Your body is so warm, so tight. Love to fuck you, hold you, to love you -- getting close, Andy!" He clasped the athlete's broad chest in both arms, squeezing tightly as his climax approached, his teeth fastened on an earlobe.



"Love you -- love you -- Andy!" His cock jerked and spurted his love deep inside, throbbing with each spurt, giving his love and cum freely and tenderly. Andy pushed back, needing more, all he could give, the hot jism soothing him as well as exciting him. He could feel Blake's cock jerking in ecstasy deep in his ass, and yet there was something missing...



As Blake's climax passed, he lay quietly, prick still deeply embedded, kissing Andy with grateful lips until his softening cock slipped out.



CHAPTER TWELVE



"But I really don't think you're ready to leave the hospital yet," the doctor was saying to Andy the next morning. "True, the healing is almost complete, and you are having bowel movements again, but there's a ways to go before you can consider yourself normal. And who would take care of you?"



"I'm going home to rest for a while. My family will care for me," Andy responded stubbornly. To himself, he admitted that he was not too sure about that. He had not been home in two years. At first, his mother wrote regularly while he was on tour, always signing the letters "Mom and Dad", but he had never actually heard from his father. Then the letters came less frequently, and for nearly a year, he had received no word at all from his parents. Lonnie had married, but never wrote. And Sam -- nobody really knew much about Sam these days. But he was determined to leave, and the sooner, the better.



Finally, the doctor consented, and Andy was soon walking gingerly out the front door. He had received some money from his troop, so that was not a concern.



That evening, when Blake came to visit, all smiles and enthusiasm, he was shocked to find an old lady with a fractured hip in the bed Andy had occupied. When Blake inquired at the nurses station, he was given a letter left by Andy. A minute later, after reading the brief note, he dashed down the stairs, and it seemed to the nurse that there were tears in his eyes.



***



Andy bought a used car in Baltimore, then traveled west slowly toward his home town. He was not in a hurry, covering only short distances each day and staying overnight in YMCA's in the cities on the route. He found himself in demand there, especially to guys he met in the showers, turned on by the strapping athlete with the somber expression on his face. He went to bed with many of them, mostly young and insecure like himself, interested in mutual sixty-nining and affection, someone to hold tenderly to assuage their loneliness. That always left Andy frustrated and even more alone than before, it seemed. And so he moved on.



When he finally arrived in his hometown, he rented a small, furnished apartment first, and then called home. The gruff voice of his father brought memories flooding back, times of pain and of exquisite sexual gratification mixed with fear and uncertainty. But his father seemed glad to hear from him. He learned that his mother had died several months before, a cancer that had developed beyond hope before detection, and it was apparent that his father was very lonely. Lonnie lived in Los Angeles, was raising a family, and rarely wrote to his father. He didn't know anything about Sam.



After promising to visit him soon, Andy hung up, more confused as to his real feelings than before. He looked out on a dark street that seemed different than he remembered it; the town had grown considerably since his departure. And then he went out to explore.



For a while, he wandered from bar to bar, looking for something, he knew not what. As the bars began to close, Andy thought of returning to his little, unfamiliar apartment, but couldn't bring himself to face another lonely night. He wandered aimlessly through the streets on the seamy side of town, where he had begun to feel most comfortable. He had almost forgotten his Baltimore trauma, the horror of that night fading in his need for sexual gratification. So he began to wander into dark alleys, looking for... something.



Again, a dark shadow, that intriguing unknown, presented itself. A bulky figure in dark clothes leaned against a wall near some garbage cans, smoking a cigarette. As the man drew on the butt, there was enough light to catch a glimpse of a rugged face with dark mustache and a broad chest before he tossed the cigarette away and resumed his casual slump. Andy moved closer.



"Nice night," Andy noted, his pulse beginning to speed.



"Yeah," the man intoned in a deep baritone, noncommittal, as the rules of the game required.



"Looking for something special?" Andy knew this was dangerous, but he needed someone badly right then.



"Maybe," the man answered, after a moment's pause.



All this was exciting to Andy -- the dark figure, the mixture of fear, and the thrill of masculine contact, the memories of other times, when such a brute had brought him to pinnacles of passion.



"Want a blowjob?" Andy asked brazenly, his heart pounding in his chest.



He wished he could see the man's face, watch the reaction, but it was too dark. Likewise, the man could not see his face, but that probably didn't matter to him. There was a pause.



"Here?"



Andy's excitement grew. At least he had not been refused.



"If you want me to," he answered.



There was no reaction. Andy waited and waited, but the man did not move or speak. Finally, taking his silence for consent, Andy moved closer and cautiously groped for the man's cock bulge in his pants. He waited for some move, some evidence of refusal or resistance, but there was none. And when his hand encountered a thick bulge, and the man did not pull away, Andy's knees began to tremble with desire. The bulge grew larger and harder as Andy caressed it, but the man continued to lean against the wall, neither resisting nor overtly reacting.



Andy fumbled with his zipper, thrilled to find that the man wore no shorts. Thick, wiry pubic hair greeted his fingers, and Andy had to dip low into the tight pants before he could clasp a huge, thick prick, throbbing to his touch. Still there was no reaction.



Impatient now, Andy extracted the heavy fucktool and gasped in pleasure at the size. It almost seemed familiar, but that was impossible. He managed to bring out the man's balls also, heavy orbs in a hairy sac. Andy couldn't get his fingers around the total, beautiful set of equipment.



He fell to his knees and worshipped the man's broad cockhead with his tongue, savoring the moisture forming at his pricktip, and holding his huge balls lovingly. Slowly, he consumed the man's prick, thrilling to its size and texture and rigidity, and the massiveness and total disinterest of the stud who was obviously his master. To another, it might seem humiliating to kneel in an alley, servicing a man who at least pretended to ignore him but, to Andy, it was the ultimate of masculine sensuality.



"Use me," he whispered, again diving down on the man's massive cockmeat, cramming the entire length into his throat. At first, Andy thought his master was going to pull away, but then the man began to respond, groaning softly as if trying to stifle it. Then he gripped Andy's broad shoulders in iron fists, pulling him strongly against his crotch. Andy's nose was buried in thick hair at his cock base, and his full balls were crushed against the blond's chin. The man held him hard, deeply thrusting into his welcoming throat, until Andy began to wonder if he would ever breathe again. He wrapped his arms around the man's trim, solid hips and thrilled to the hard asscheeks in his hands, thick, muscular mounds that also seemed somehow familiar. Finally, the man released him, and Andy came up for air, gasping.



He looked up adoringly, but could only see a vague shape with a dark slash which was the man's mustache. "Let me eat your beautiful ass," he finally begged.



Again, there was no response from the man. Again, Andy took the initiative, unfastening his master's belt and lowering his pants until his huge prick and balls were fully exposed. After another plunge down his thick cock-shaft, Andy scrambled around between the man's legs so he could look up at that gorgeous crotch, his head resting on the man's pants on the ground. With pressure on his back, Andy signaled for the man to bend over, and he complied silently. Andy gripped thick, hairy thighs and struggled upward, his tongue protruding eagerly until his lips touched the man's ass. Eagerly, he buried his face between the hairy mounds and lapped his asshole with its surrounding crisp hair.



Andy probed deeper, tasting sweet ass, clean ass, beautiful, masculine ass! He moaned as he felt the trembling begin in the massive legs spread for his service, knowing that he was bringing joy to the stooping master and to himself. For the first time, he extracted his own cock, then jerked it roughly, his senses soaring with this servile contact. This was what he needed -- to serve, to prostrate himself for a stud and be rewarded by bringing the man to an exhilarating climax. Only then could he be satisfied, himself.



He gripped the stranger's big prick and thrilled to its throbbing and jerking, mute evidence of the pleasure he was bringing this shadowy hulk. He pulled on the heavy balls, and the man grunted, his trembling increasing. "Oh, Christ, yeah," the man breathed almost inaudibly, his first and perhaps unbidden verbal response. Andy attacked his asshole with renewed vigor, rewarded by that small reaction.



Then the man straightened up, closing off the gates to heaven. He was gasping, apparently close to orgasm. Reluctantly, Andy moved to the front again, but there was that huge prick, waiting for his service! Slowly, he took it in his mouth again, willing to postpone the final moments as long as the man wanted, knowing that his reward would be great in the end.



But then the man could remain inactive no longer. He thrust hard, shoving his entire cock into Andy's happy mouth, filling it and almost strangling the eager cocksucker. In and out, he thrust, leaving a sweet trail of pre-cum on Andy's tongue, and Andy moaned again from the aggressive face-fucking. The broad paw on the back of his head would permit no escape, and Andy thrilled to the demand for submission. By the increasing trembling in the stranger's hairy legs, Andy knew his climax was near.



He was vaguely conscious of the man fumbling in his shirt pocket, but the prick thrust deeply again and again. His own cock was leaking and dribbling in his hand, close to its peak, and the rest of the world was ignored.



"Stop!" The order came brusquely at the same time the huge prick was withdrawn. "You're under arrest!"



Andy knelt gaping up at the dark form, and then a small flashlight was clicked on to shine on a police badge in the man's hand. Andy stared at the shiny metal for an instant, shocked by the unexpected turn of events, and then upward to the face also illuminated by the dim light.



"Sam!" he gasped, and almost fainted.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN



"Who -- who are you?" Sam asked blankly, almost as surprised as Andy. The last time he had seen Andy was when his brother was an adolescent, a far different person than the present grown athlete. He directly the light downward, staring.



"I'm Andy -- your brother," he said, still kneeling and looking up at his handsome brother, big cock still protruding stiffly in Andy's face. The thought flicked through his mind that this was the way it should be: Andy, kneeling to Sam, serving his stud brother. But just as quickly, the thought was gone.



"Andy?" Sam gasped, staring at the handsome face, the lithe mature body, and the long cock still held in a masculine fist. Then he flicked off the light and leaned weakly against the brick wall. There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Andy struggled to his feet, his cock still in his hand.



Sam sighed deeply. "Somehow, I almost knew -- put your cock away, kid, for Christ's sake!"



Andy hastened to do as he was told, as he had always done for Sam. "Yes, Sir," he said automatically. Sam bent to pull up his own pants, but Andy stopped him. "Let me help you, please." He slowly pulled them up, noting that Sam's cock had not really softened very much. Gently, he tucked his brother's thick cockshaft into the pants, then zipped up the fly. Sam only watched in silence.



"Come on, let's get out of this fuckin' alley," Sam growled, starting to walk toward the nearby street. Andy followed, as always.



"We could go to my place, Sam," he volunteered, his brain still fluttering with confusion.



Sam turned toward him. "You live here now?"



Andy nodded.



"Alone?"



"Yes."



Sam led the way to a small black sedan, and he opened the door. Andy squeezed in front, bumping his leg on the police radio near the floor. Sam drove to the address Andy gave him, his face grim and set, not talking, but apparently doing a lot of thinking. When they arrived, Andy made coffee, still in silence, and they soon sat at the little kitchen table with filled cups. For the first time, they looked each other over frankly.



"You're a hell of a man, Sam," Andy said softly.



Sam flushed and looked into his brother's eyes, then down again.



"That's always bothered me, too, Andy. Have you ever forgiven me for being a bully and a bastard to you when you were just a kid?"



"There's nothing to forgive. You gave me some of the greatest moments of my life, moments that I have always tried to recapture, I realize. And tonight was just as great as always, even though I didn't know it was you!"



Sam didn't pull away. "Sorry about tonight. I've only been on vice for a few weeks, and I thought I could handle it. But when you took my cock in your mouth, I couldn't resist, and when you ate my ass, it was like heaven on earth, and -- I shouldn't have let you go so far." He broke off, staring at the strong hand holding his own.



Again, there was a long silence, Andy's pulse beginning to race.



"Would you arrest me if I propositioned you again, right here and now?" Sam looked up intently.



"You really want to, after..."



Andy nodded. "I want to be your slave, Sam," he answered quietly.



Sam stared directly into his eyes for long moments. Then the old glint appeared in Sam's eyes as he pulled back in his chair.



"You're always going to be my slave, kid," he said, rising. "Get in that bedroom and strip! I'm going to fuck your face, and then your ass! You need a man!"



"Yes, Sir," Andy said jumping to do as he was told. In a moment, he stood naked, cock rigid, before his master in the dim bedroom, next to the bed which he had never slept in. "Take off my clothes, and do it slow!" Sam snarled.



Immediately, Andy knelt and eased off his master's shoes and socks. He began to kiss and lick his feet, tasting faint salt and sweat, a working man's feet. Each toe was a treasure to be devoured and savored. Picking up one foot, and then the other, he sucked each toe in his mouth, then licked between his toes. This time, Sam moaned quietly as he was being serviced, his cock rearing high and thick in his pants.



"All right, slave, the shirt!" he finally growled, satisfied that his feet were clean.



Andy leapt to his feet, and he began to unbutton the casual shirt, revealing black, curly hair in an even thicker mat than he had remembered. Then one dark nipple came into view. Andy bent to lap it and take it between his teeth, nibbling gently, then more vigorously as Sam moaned his pleasure. After treating the other nipple, both now proud and firm on their bulging muscle plates, his tongue followed the midline down to Sam's shallow navel, dipping in and around the tiny pucker. Sam clutched the handsome head to him, his brother's lips working magic on his sexual center, which had lain dormant for what seemed like eternity.



Then Andy eased the shirt over Sam's broad shoulders, noting the thick back and arm muscle bulges he remembered in the young football star. He kissed and nibbled them, recapturing the moments many years ago when he had not dared to show his love so openly. Then, with lapping tongue, he traced the man's spine down slowly, his hands caressing, until he reached the beltline. Without abandoning his lovemaking, he reached around to unfasten the belt and drop the pants to the floor but slowly, very slowly, as he had been ordered. As the pants inched down, his tongue followed, straight into the valley between hairy buttocks so familiar and yet so exciting. He would never tire of making love, worshiping his big, burly brother! His tongue barely touched the asshole he craved so much.



"I didn't tell you that you could touch me there," Sam snarled, whirling around and cuffing Andy none too gently.



Andy fell to the floor, his head bowed in shame. "I'm sorry, Sir, for taking such liberties." He did not dare to look up, but he knew that Sam was scowling, and that his rampant prick and heavy, hairy balls would be an entrancing sight.



"May I help you off with your pants, Sir?" he asked. They lay on the floor almost covering his master's feet.



Without answering, Sam lifted one foot at a time, allowing Andy to remove the pants and throw them aside. He bent to kiss his feet again, not sure that he had permission. "Work your way up, cocksucker!" was the command.



Andy used tongue and teeth to lap and kiss and nibble on his brother's hairy legs, those hard football legs that had so fascinated him as a child, and still did. The crisp hairs tantalized his tongue, and he worked in small circles, dampening and devouring the beautiful columns. He paid extra attention to the area behind the knees. Sam moaned again, his knees bending slightly as the sensitive spots were serviced.



More rapidly then, Andy worked up Sam's heavy thighs, along the defined muscle bulges, heading for the crucial goal. Sam stood silently, feet apart, fists on hips, watching his brother serving him so beautifully. He would admit only to himself that many of his dreams over the past few years had been similar to the present reality -- Andy on his knees, adoration in his eyes, sucking his cock.



Andy reached the critical point just below Sam's heavy-hanging balls. His nose nudged the man's ball-sac, and he inhaled the masculine aroma of hairy crotch, better than any perfume that had ever been created. Again and again he inhaled, and his hand sought his own cock, twitching alone between his legs.



Sam brought his knee up, catching Andy in the chin and shoving him away. "I didn't tell you that you could touch yourself, either," he barked.



Andy snatched his hand away, his cock reacting as strongly without touching it, as long as Sam was giving the orders. Andy knelt in front of the master, head bowed. "May I lick your balls, Sir?" he asked meekly.



Sam grunted assent. "Thank you, Sir," Andy murmured and began to kiss the hairy sac adoringly. They were hot and heavy, full of that delicious nectar which he might receive if Sam approved of his service. Sam's thick cock rested on Andy's face as he sucked in one ball, mouthing and licking it tenderly, lovingly. His eyes were open, and the man's cockshaft rode over his face, burning its way into his memories. Andy switched to the other ball, and Sam's cock treated the other side of his face to the same favor. To make it even better, Sam pushed down on his monster prickmeat, pressing it hard, and traces of pre-cum smeared the blond's handsome face. Eyes turned up toward Sam's face, Andy pulled gently, then more forcefully on the ball in his mouth, and Sam's little smile widened in appreciation.



Sam grabbed a handful of Andy's hair in a brawny fist, and he pulled his brother's face away. The blue eyes looked up worshipfully, patiently, sending messages of love and trust.



"Now suck my prick, Andy," Sam demanded evenly. "Suck your master's fuckin' prick!" The inflection rose.



Andy opened his mouth wide, and Sam pushed it down on his jerking cock. His mouth was immediately filled, Sam's broad prickhead shoving deep. The throbbing immediately transmitted itself to Andy, communicating, as nothing else could, the approval of his master and a promise of a coveted reward. Lips stretched tightly about Sam's thick cockshaft, tongue and teeth tantalizing the torrid fucktool. Andy sucked as he had never sucked before, the only way he knew to prove his love. And Sam understood, accepted, reciprocated as a master.



The big man fucked his brother's face slowly and deliberately, watching him take his prick and beg for all he could give.



"Yes, Andy, little brother cocksucker, take my prick," he breathed, then slapped the side of his brother's face briskly. Andy responded with an excited moan, asking for more. Again the slap, and Andy gurgled happily, his brother's cockhead lodged in his throat. Sam slapped his slave rhythmically until Andy's face reddened from the blows but also from strangulation on his broad cockhead.



"Gonna beat your ass, too," Sam promised firmly, and Andy enthusiastically nodded his head without stopping.



Sam pulled his head away by the hair. "Bend over that bed, shitass!"



"Yes, Sir," Andy obeyed, scrambling to get his ass in the air for whatever Sam wanted to do. A ringing slap to Andy's naked buns left red marks, to be followed by another, and another! Andy groaned from the sharp pain, but knew Sam was doing it for his own good -- he must be punished!



"Cocksucker!" Slap! "Ass-licker!" Slap! "Brother-suckin' faggot!"



Sam spat in his hand, then smeared it over his cockhead. "Gotta punish you, kid, in the best way I know, to shove my fuckin' cock right up your ass like this!" With his dripping cockhead positioned, Sam drove hard and deep up the blond's asshole, straight to the heart! Andy almost came at that moment as he felt the power and authority of his hero brother impale him on his pricklance, that fabulous living lance he loved so well.



"Oh, shit, yeah," Sam breathed. "My little brother on his knees, taking my prick all the way. He likes it rough, too, don't you?" Even before Andy answered, Sam pulled part-way out, then plunged hard and deep again, and again, and again. He gripped his brother's hips in his vise-like paws, pulling the blond to him as if he were a toy, heavy muscles bulging, prick plowing and plunging powerfully. Sam's nickname, "The Slammer", given him by his football buddies, flicked into Andy's mind; it was certainly appropriate at that moment!



Andy almost screamed with joy and the knowledge that he was home. This was where he belonged -- on the receiving end of Sam's masterful passion. He could feel the throbbing of his hot cock, the filling of his body cavity as he needed. Pre-cum from Andy's ignored cock leaked into the bed cover.



Then Sam pulled back and out, still holding the blond's slim hips. He stared down at his brother for a moment.



"Turn over, Andy," he finally ordered. Andy looked curiously at him over his shoulder. "I want you on your back, your legs up in the air, kid."



Andy moved onto the bed and into position. His stiff cock towered high. His bright blue eyes glistened in anticipation.



Sam crouched between his legs, then pulled them high and apart. He looked at the spot he desired and moved forward to take it. His broad cockhead spread Andy's asslips and, again, plunged to the depths in one thrust. "Ahhhhh," he moaned, as did Andy.



For the first time ever, both men could watch each other's facial expression and maintain deep eye contact during their lovemaking. Andy was surprised, since he had always thought Sam wanted to avoid such intimacy. But here he was, holding his legs roughly but tightly, communicating with his eyes and his body his intense feelings directly to his brother.



A smile grew on Sam's rugged face, and it was mirrored on Andy's. As the stud fucked his boy, his love was clear, his sexual commitment was obvious, and maybe, just maybe, there was a promise for the future.



As he watched the familiar face, Sam's lips drew back with anguished joy and his dark eyes grew even brighter. His huge prick slammed into the slave with increasing frenzy, his powerful hips ruling, requiring submission which was eagerly given without question. And then Sam groaned loudly, his head thrown back, and he favored his slave with a huge gush of jism high in his ass!



One more plunge, and Andy was filled with hot cum, which burst forth like a geyser. At the same moment his own load let loose in savage spurts, drenching his brother's hairy belly.



As the moment finally passed and their bodies relaxed together in one harmonious coupling, Sam's kiss softened, but held. Both moaned softly into the other's mouths, their tongues still communicating, but less urgently.



Sam murmured something that Andy could not hear. He made a questioning sound, and Sam finally pulled back, looking deeply into Andy's eyes.



"I said I love you," he repeated matter-of-factly. Andy stared back.



"Yes, I love you, little brother -- no, not as little brother, but as a man. A man who wants to love me and serve me, and allow me to care for him and, yes, give me the greatest sex I will ever have."



Andy's shining eyes and urgent lips gave his immediate consent, expressing his love and trust and faith in the future. They kissed again, in love -- man to man, brother to brother.



THE END