Best Gay Erotica 2010, page 11
“Want to do it again?”
“Of course. But let’s eat lunch first.”
Will nodded in agreement, for the long bike ride and the intense sex had made him hungry too. When we sat up, the little birds flew away with mistrustful conjecture, and the weasel faded into the rushes. I removed the caps from two black raspberry beers and handed Will his bottle. He looked at my hand, still streaked with his come, and took the beer from me.
I swigged from my beer before I removed the wrapping from my roast beef sandwich, thick with horseradish and sliced red onion, and took a hearty bite. Then I tore open a bag of cheese puffs and grabbed a handful.
A gaggle of Canadian geese saw me open the bag, even as Will opened the bag of potato chips. The geese were soon surrounding us, behaving for all the world like a group of old friends congregating to share in our riches.
“I doubt this is good for you,” I told a goose as he beaked a cheese puff from my fingers.
“Probably worse for us,” Will said, fending off two geese with a few chips while he stuffed a handful into his face. “If we keep eating like this, we’ll be fatter than the geese.”
I grabbed some of his chips. “Nah, we’re young. We can eat whatever we want.”
We were dressed in our thongs, having put them on before we ate. With the sun already warming our skin, neither Will nor I could forget the day the sun burned our cocks, and we couldn’t beat each other off for two weeks. As I was sipping from my black raspberry beer, I noticed that the long-tailed weasel had returned to our blanket and invited one of his relatives along. I flipped them a couple of bread crusts, and within a few minutes, the bold creatures were eating chips from my hand.
“The birds are keeping clear of those guys,” Will joked. “I’m surprised the ferocious little carnivores will eat bread and chips. Even the friggin’ geese are backing off.”
Close up, the weasels were lean and brown with pale yellow bellies. Including their black-tipped tails, they were about twenty inches long. Their eyes were strange, reflecting consciousness that stood between omniscience and nothingness.
Will had a more material impression. “The little buggers look like dicks,” he suggested.
Abruptly the two weasels bolted and the birds beat their wings. “What scared them?” I asked, alarmed, but even as I spoke sinister shadows fell across us.
“Will you look at the fairy faggots, Brother Skeet,” barked a harsh country voice.
“Looks like our informant was right, boys,” came a horribly familiar accent. From occasional samplings of the radio’s fulsome drivel, I recognized the tones of Brother Skeet, pastor of the Last Chance Church and founder of “God’s Gonna Burn Everybody Who Don’t Think Like Us.”
I bounded to my feet and saw four pickup trucks parked along the gravel path. Neither Will nor I had heard them arrive, and I wondered how long these depraved, self-selected Christians had been watching us. What I did know was that Jack Skeet and his boys were the most intolerant, homophobic hypocrites walking and that they were extremely dangerous. There were rumors that they had tortured and lynched several men they suspected of homosexuality. It was a documented fact that following each murder Brother Skeet preached a sermon about “them hosexual prevorts what busted Hell wide open.”
A redheaded dipshit named Frank Clink, whom I knew from my high school days, pointed at a tall chestnut tree across the path. “That un’s got a good limb, Brother Skeet. We can string ’em up right yonder.”
Skeet examined the chestnut branch with a critical eye. “It’ll do fer a hangin’ tree, Brother Clink. But before we send these two faggots to Hell, we’re gonna have a little fun with ’em.”
“You mean…” Clink spit out a wad of snuff and the other men giggled in anticipation.
“Yeah, just like we did with them other two. We’ll fuck ’em before we lynch ’em. Send the fruits to Hell with C-U-M in their asses.”
Will had heard enough. Without warning, he kicked Brother Skeet in the nuts, and the preacher toppled with a shriek. Grabbing my hand, Will dragged me into the rushes. “Run, Jim,” he urged, though I needed no urging. We ploughed headlong through the reeds, ferns, and cattails, running until our breath gave out, and then we fell to our knees and crawled through the muck. We had abandoned our clothes and our bicycles, so we possessed only the thongs that scarcely covered our dicks and left our asses exposed. Although, I suppose, we were trying to save our asses.
We crawled on our hands and knees for what seemed hours. I might have enjoyed the view of Will Branch in front of me, his bountiful ass cleft by his golden thong, were it not for the hunting cries of our dogged pursuers. Brother Skeet’s oaths were the loudest: “Boys, we’re gonna get them fuckin’ fruits what kneed me in the balls, we’re gonna buttfuck ’em ’till they faint, and then we’re gonna string ’em up so the whole world can see the wages of sin is death.”
“Amen, Brother Skeet,” shouted his followers.
“Why do homophobes hate us so much?” Will whispered as we crept desperately through the rushes.
“Because they’re queer but can’t own up to it—even to themselves,” I answered.
“Right on, Jim,” Will agreed. “Look how their first thought was to fuck us in the ass. They’re the Queens of de Nile.”
“Do you ever think what it’d be like to have a dick sliding up your ass?” I whispered, watching his buttocks tighten as he crawled.
“I guess I’d give it a try sometime,” Will said. “But not with Brother Skeet’s mob.”
“I didn’t mean we’d put out for those assholes,” I said. “I was thinking about butt-banging each other. I’d take your cock anytime you wanted, Will.”
For a while, we heard the men’s pickup trucks racing down the cinder path and their calls to each other as they beat the reeds. We had been crawling through the mire for nearly two hours when I saw that we were approaching a clearing.
“Hey, Will,” I said. “There’s a cabin ahead with a big SUV parked outside. Maybe we can call for help.”
Taking a quick look for our pursuers, Will and I sneaked to the cabin door. We had never traveled that far down the path, so we had no idea that anybody had built along the shores of Foggy Fenland. The cabin was a single-story dwelling, only about eight hundred square feet in size, though it appeared to be tightly constructed. Its poured concrete base lifted the beams above the marshy ground. The slough found its source in the Foggy Fenland directly behind the cabin.
“They must be duck hunters,” I whispered to Will as we stood in considerable trepidation before the door. To knock or not to knock? Suppose the inhabitants were part of Brother Skeet’s bunch? We’d be delivering our quivering asses to our hunters. Standing in only a pink thong as the sun dipped low in the sky above the rushes and a cool breeze rustled the tops of the ferns, I had never felt so chilled, so naked, nor so vulnerable.
Will looked at me, his eyes filled with questions. I drew a deep breath and rapped my knuckles upon the door. Never had a rap sounded so loud, and it was met promptly with a thunderous din as though a thousand dogs were woofing in warning. They sounded like gigantic dogs.
“Oh, crap,” Will said as the door slowly swung open. He gripped my hand so hard that my fingers went numb.
“Mustard. Ketchup,” came a ringing voice from inside. “Be quiet, boys. Do you want to scare the life out of our callers?”
Suddenly, standing before us was the most beautiful man I had ever seen—even including Will, though I wouldn’t tell him so. Our host stood about five-ten, had frosty blond hair cut short, creamy skin, and perky muscles. I could see his muscles clearly because he was wearing only silk boxer shorts. His eyes traveled down our bodies, muddy, mucky, and scratched after our crawl through the bog, lingered over our thong swimsuits, and traveled back to our fearful faces.
“Hurry in, boys,” he urged. “We don’t want Mustard and Ketchup getting out and rolling in the mud.”
Another man stood inside, holding the collars of two magnificent Golden Retrievers. Like his friend, he was good looking, and he was wearing only silk boxers. Once Will and I were inside with the door closed, the man released the two dogs. They promptly sniffed Will and me up and down and indicated that they would enjoy a good wrestle.
“Some men are hunting us,” I blurted, stroking the dogs and fending them off at the same time. “They said they’re going to rape and lynch us. Can we use your phone?”
“Rape and lynch?” the man who’d opened the door gasped. He glanced at his partner. “Boys, was it Jack Skeet and his bunch?”
“Yeah,” Will said. Will and I introduced ourselves. The men told us that they were Hugh and Reggie. Reggie, the beautiful guy who had opened the door, told us to follow him.
“You boys need a shower,” he suggested. “After that, we can find a way to get acquainted while we’re waiting for Skeet’s bunch to show up here.”
“You’re not gonna give us to them?”
“Hardly,” Reggie said. “You boys are gonna have to trust Hugh and me.”
Will and I stepped into the shower together, still wearing our thongs. After we’d rinsed off most of the muck, we pulled off our thongs and wrung them out. The warm water was a relief after our ordeal, and we began soaping each other. I was running a soapy washcloth up Will’s buttcrack when the shower door slid open and Reggie joined us. My jaw dropped at the sight. Reggie looked even better naked. His dark, untrimmed cock was half-hard already, his gym-sculpted buttocks protruded enticingly, and his purplish nipples were swollen.
“Did Jack Skeet catch you boys jerking each other off?” Reggie asked to break the ice. “Oh, don’t play innocent. Hugh and I have seen you in your hidden spot.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “They arrived after we shot our loads, but they might’ve been spying.”
“Yeah, they’re sneaks,” Reggie nodded. The shower door opened again and Hugh, naked as Reggie, stepped in. Hugh wasn’t as strongly built as his partner, but he did have a sweet thick cock. His ass wasn’t as muscular, but it was perky and rather girlish.
“Don’t you guys do anything but beat each other’s meat?” Hugh asked. “Don’t you ever suck cock?”
Will turned red and his cock throbbed visibly. I grinned. Will and I had discussed cocksucking, but we had not yet worked up the nerve to try it.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve felt a man’s mouth on your dick,” Hugh said. Hugh slowly slid to his knees before Will. As the warm shower spray beat upon his back, Hugh touched his tongue to Will’s cock. Will moaned as Hugh kissed the tip of his dick.
“Don’t you love watching them get hard?” Reggie whispered to me, directing my attention to his own swollen cock. Of course, mine was also soaring. And Hugh’s.
Hugh licked down Will’s shaft, flicked his tongue around his cock, and up the other side. He gave Will’s cock a thorough tongue bath, returning repeatedly to the head where he kissed and licked the rim around the head and the very tip. Will’s hands involuntarily clasped the back of Hugh’s head, pulling the other man’s face onto his throbbing erection.
“You ever thought about doing that?” Reggie asked.
“All the time,” I confessed. I thought Reggie intended to suck my cock, but I suddenly realized that he was asking if I wanted to suck his. I was interested. I hesitated. “I’ve tried it with a banana,” I acknowledged.
Reggie placed my soapy hand on his erection. “That’s no banana, Jim. Keep gripping my shaft with your fist and go to work on the head with your mouth. You don’t have to take it all. Just get a little taste.”
Hanging tight to Reggie’s cock, I slid to my knees. My hand drifted down his silky back until I was stroking his brawny butt. His cock stood solid right before my lips, and I slowly touched my tongue to its tip. The effect was electric—more of a lightning bolt. As my tongue tasted the tip of Reggie’s cock, I distinctly heard a clap of thunder—the lights flickered.
One taste of his cock was sufficient. I was seduced. I was devoted to sucking it. I kissed the hood, mouthing it with my tongue and my lips. Without warning, without me thinking about it, Reggie’s cock was traveling over my lips until I felt the base of his dickhead on the inside of my lips. Reggie hadn’t moved, hadn’t forced me, hadn’t stuck it into my mouth. I had done it myself. I pulled back until it was out of my mouth, and as it brushed the outside of my lips again, I realized how much it belonged in my mouth. I wanted to suck it. I wanted to nurse on it, torment it with my lips, my tongue, my whole mouth, until it erupted and the creamy spunk coated my tongue and slid deliciously down my throat like a rich, sweet cream.
“That’s it, Jim,” Reggie moaned. “Suck me. Suck me off.”
I rolled my eyes upward to see his face, which was unutterable bliss revealed, and over his shoulder I saw Will’s face, near ecstasy from the ministrations of Hugh’s mouth, yet watching me suck off Reggie with strange delight.
Even as I sucked Reggie, I knew that after this day my relationship with Will would be different. Before, we had made love as boys do, and although we would continue to masturbate each other, we would be open to new pleasures. I foresaw bliss such as I had never known.
However, that speculation only promised future bliss. Reggie’s was the present cock in my mouth, and my hopes were wisps of smoke compared to the flesh I was going down on then.
“That’s it, Jim,” Will encouraged. “Blow him. Suck him off, Jim. Make him come in your mouth.”
I sucked more furiously, gripping and stroking Reggie’s fine ass with both hands while my mouth formed a hot chute for his dick. “Oh, Jim, you’re doing it right,” Reggie moaned.
“Ah, Hugh, you’re gonna make me come,” Will howled. “I’m getting real close.”
I felt an electrical tingle and smelled burning sulfur in the shower. A close clap of thunder ripped the sky. Reggie pushed my head off his dick, and Hugh stopped sucking Will.
“Don’t stop now,” Will yelped.
“It’s a thunderstorm,” Hugh said. “Didn’t you feel that lightning bolt? A direct hit might have killed us. We’ll be safer on the bed. Besides it’s time to switch.”
Mustard and Ketchup were plastered against the bathroom door. When we pushed it open, the dogs leaped fearfully, woofing and yipping. Through the window, we could see wild lightning spears splitting the clouds and striking the ground in long terrible forks. The thunder became a din, and the cloud-burst hit the cabin, the rain gushing down the windowpanes so heavily that we could see nothing.
The two dogs dived under the bed while the four of us piled onto it. “I guess that storm will send Brother Skeet and his mob packing,” Will proclaimed as he stroked Hugh’s cock. Those were Will’s last words for a while. He discovered the delicious sensation of a cock in his mouth, and the only sounds coming from him were wet, sucking ones.
Events had pushed Brother Skeet from my mind, and I forgot him again as Reggie began licking my cock. As the storm snarled without, Reggie mouthed my cock and his hands stroked my ass. His fingers explored into my buttcrack while he sucked me, and the sensation of the intimate touch heightened my pleasure.
“Oh, Reggie, that’s fucking terrific,” I groaned. “Oh, yeah, you’re sucking me so good.”
Meanwhile, Hugh was encouraging Will, who was sucking as if he’d been born to the task. “That’s the way, Will. Oh, fuck. Like that. Work the rim with your lips and tongue. Ah. That’s the way. You’re a natural cocksucker.”
Inspired by the praise, Will rose to further heights, driving Hugh nearly mad with pleasure. I couldn’t believe that Will and I had been such dunces. Yes, years of beating each other off had been great, but we could have been mixing masturbation up with some serious mouth action. “Just wait until next time, Will,” I declared, my voice nearly a shriek as Reggie tongued my cock toward the edge. “We’re gonna use more than our hands. Even what we talked about earlier.”
The picture of Will and me sucking each other’s cocks and of fucking each other in the ass was too much. I howled, “Oh, I’m getting close, Reggie. I’m gonna get my rocks off in your mouth.”
Reggie stopped sucking immediately, and Hugh pulled his cock out of Will’s mouth.
“Why’d you stop?” I yelped. I was in pain. I had been so close to the jumping-off place, the moment when I was going to orgasm no matter what, and Reggie had stopped with my dick teetering on the very edge.
“Nobody gets to come yet,” Reggie proclaimed. “We’re all gonna go off at once.”
Hugh beamed. “We’ll link up a four-way.”
The rain was still coming down hard, though the thunder and lightning had ceased. The dogs remained under the bed as the four of us shaped a square. In the new arrangement, Hugh sucked my dick, I sucked Will’s, and so on. That cock I had jacked to orgasm so many times was projecting toward my mouth. My eyes crossed in trying to look at it. I felt Hugh taking my cock into his hot mouth. Slowly I closed my lips around Will’s dick and touched my tongue to the tip. He tasted of salt and musk.
Will made a low sound of pleasure in his throat. We were all so close to shooting our loads that I knew we would come right away. We’d gone to the edge of orgasm and stopped, and as we linked, we were a potential vortex of hard throbbing cocks, sucking mouths, contracting muscles, and rising semen. Will was leaking his seed onto my lips even as I took him into my mouth.
Hugh’s mouth was a hot, wet, sucking chute. He sucked me hard and fast, until I found my own head matching his rhythm on Will’s cock. Will was thrashing as he sucked off Reggie. Opening my eyes, I saw Reggie rocking in utter abandon, and I knew that he was coming in Will’s mouth. Will had to be swallowing the ejaculated spurts; where else could they be going but down his throat and into his stomach?
That vision was with me as my cock tingled heavily. The tingles in my cockhead grew into an intensity that stopped just short of pain. The pleasure was rhythmic and enormous. Then my muscles contracted, shooting my spunk into Hugh’s mouth. I tasted something sweet and salty, wet and slick, and I knew that Will was pumping his come onto my tongue. However, my own orgasm and ejaculations were so intense that I was hardly aware that I was swallowing Will’s dick cream. I could only rock and thrust, nodding my head vigorously on Will’s cock, abusing the head of his cock with my lips and tongue as I shot salvo after salvo of wet spunk down Hugh’s throat.
