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Lost In Tennessee
At the end of the 60's, I sat in Mr. Silverstein's tenth grade English class in upstate New York. But I got lost in Tennessee.
I can't pinpoint exactly the moment it happened. Weeks before, we had been taking turns reading Macbeth aloud, going around the class desk by desk, each moron struggling through a page from Shakespeare's great play. By the second day of these student readings, I was cursing myself for being a moron. The kids in the "intensified" upper track English class, where probably enthusiastically reading this play aloud, affecting Elizabethan accents.
It was through my own sloth, rarely doing homework, that I became rotten fruit, dropping from the burning-to-learn tree to the ground with a thud, tracked out of the gifted class for poor grades, to wallow among fellow thugs in the stupid class and be made to suffer this torture. Listening to these cretins stumbling through Shakespeare was akin to having one's finger nails pulled out with pliers. And it went on for two classes.
It was not only ignoring homework that was my problem academically. Most of the time, during classes, I was off on Pluto. Today, they'd call it Attention Deficit Disorder. My attention could be brought into Earth orbit by certain things, even in English class. While enduring the torture of these student readings, I could study Rick's package with ferocious intensity, bringing my peripheral vision into laser like focus, and opening up a world of erotic fantasies. Rick was a fellow moron who sat next to me in the back of English class, who was also in my gym class for the previous few years. So, I knew the hanger that was lurking in there, causing that bulge in his pants, just a few feet and a zipper from my grasp.
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It had been a long afternoon.James Grainger was relieved that there was only one more candidate to interview.Since joining the university at the beginning of the academic year, he had been put in charge of organising the regular Wednesday afternoon interview sessions for the department, which he found could be more enjoyable than he had at first imagined.Nevertheless, by the time each afternoon came to an end he was generally exhausted, as it was quite a responsibility ensuring that each candidate ended up with the right interviewing tutor, and then there was his own share of prospective students to see.Applicants had to send photographs when they accepted an interview offer, which was meant to help to act as way of reminding staff who was who when it came to deciding who would receive an offer of a place, but James also used the photos to allocate applicants to interviewers.One of the few perks of this job was making sure that he picked out some of the nicer looking boys to see for himself!None of his colleagues appeared to have cottoned on to this fact, but he tried not to be too obvious by ensuring that he had his fair sprinkling of girls to see too.
Today he found himself waiting around for his last candidate, but he was expecting that.This particular boy, who lived locally, was also applying for a sports bursary, which meant that he had first to go and undertake some trials in the sports department.James didn't mind the wait.It gave him a chance to clear his mind from the frankly not very impressive people he had already seen that afternoon.He was not sure than any warranted an offer.There had been three girls, all equally uninspiring, and a boy who, despite a certain cuteness, was just too dreary to be interesting.He was placing a lot of hopes on -- he glanced at the application form again -- on Adam Jones -- who he hoped might turn out to be more interesting than his name.His photograph certainly promised well -- a confident, charming, smiling schoolboy looked out to the camera, close-cropped fair hair and classic blue eyes.But what had really intrigued James was something which Adam had written in his personal statement, where applicants were encouraged to say something about their interests and hobbies.Adam had of course drawn attention to his success as a runner, but then there was this almost throwaway line at the end, where he had written that 'I was responsible for setting up a young person's gay society in my local community'.James picked up the photo and looked again at it closely, trying to get some clues as to the boy's personality from it.All the signs were good, but he was prepared to be disappointed.
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Living in California has many advantages. One of them is people wear less clothing during most of the year. Ned couldn't believe it when he first moved there. He saw guys wearing shorts, tank tops and flip flops going to class and that was high school! He expected to see surfer attired on the college campuses but casual attire or should I say sexy clothing was not limited to those older kids. Ned was 18 and he loved to watch. He was college age now. And he was ready to join the throngs of surfing, beer guzzling, pot smoking and sexually experimenting kids that go to colleges all over Southern California. And thank goodness he had taken Spanish in high school since the number of hispancs in his new home was obvious. Back in North Carolina, where he grew up, there were few. Everywhere he drove, walked, shopped, biked and just looked there were hot boys, hot men, wearing sleeveless shirts, tank tops, running shorts without underwear or lycra shorts. Even those that wore baggy jeans made it sexy. The hotter the sun got the hotter the men got. Ned knew he had relocated to the right place. And thanks to his Uncle who lived in the area, his parents didn't object too much. Then again he was 18 so they had no control of him anymore. Classes over Ned shouldered his bacpack letting the sun back his bare torso as he walked to his Uncle's house. A large construction project made him stop and stare. While he was studying architecture, it wasn't the steel skeleton that was being erected that made him stop. It was a hot looking workman. He looked not much older then Ned but he knew he was older. He wore a dirty white football jersey with the sleeves torn off. His round brown shoulders flexed as he lifted boards and carried them easily on his shoulder across the dirt to wherever he had to go. Ned waited. And eventually his patience paid off as the workman reappeared to lift more boards or work on other things. It was as if he knew Ned was watching and he could perform for him. His jeans fit snugly as if they were made especially for him. There were not rips just tattered ends to each leg. There was no belt, there didn't seem to need to be. And when he bent over the skin on his back appeared. Ned hoped the jeans would slide down low enough to reveal the separation of his buttocks. Ned stared. He didn't know if the guy knew it or even saw him. The guy would occasionally stretch lifting his hands high over head allowing the front of his shirt to rise. Ned's gut, already churning each time he saw the guy, would get more excited seeing his bare tummy and the indentation of his belly button. The guy was smooth. Ned liked that. The first guys he played with back in the tarheel state were smooth, even the older guys he hooked up with. He was about to turn and leave when the object of his stare faced his direction and unbuttoned his jeans. He opened them and shook them. Then with one hand he dove into hsi jeans and obviously repositioned himself. Ned could clearly see he wore no underwear, like so many men he had stared at since moving to Southern California. He shook his jeans again and buttoned them up. Then to Ned's surprise he looked in Ned's direction and smiled. Ned didn't know what to do. Should he turn away? wave? give away his interested in some way like pinching his nipples or grabbing his crotch? The guy lifted his gloved hand about midway in front of him and waved. At least Ned thought it was a wave. He wanted it to be a wave. He turned and walked home. He would be back the next day as he had been every day for the past few weeks. "Ola" the voice said in a nice silk smooth voice. Ned had been late that day and looked around. He didn't see his favoriate workman anywhere, in fact it appeared as if the workmen were packing up to go home. He realized they started work very early just as they did back east. It was now 3 pm and Ned was late. He sighed, carrying his backpack which he had taken off so the afternoon sun would tan his bare back. "You ok?" the smooth voice made Ned jump. He turned and stared like he hadn't stared before. His workman stood there holding his tool belt. "I wondered where you were today" he smiled nicly. Ned could feel the blush of his embarassment. "Yu ok?" he asked. Ned couldn't speak, not because he wassuprised to see the focus of his fantasies up front but because the guy was removing his shirt. "You got the right idea" he said "We can't do it on the job or we'd get burnt or hit by something" His torso was defined and smooth. His two very large brownish nipples accentuated his build. "Uh yea I uh had a late class, I uh what's the building?" Ned tried to find an escape from his embarassment. "Oh it's a bank" the guy pointed to the large sign with a picture of the architect's vision of the finished building. "Want a ride?" the guy asked "I live down by Venice, nothing fancy, just a bed and a frig" he said. "Come on" Ned rabbed his backpack and followed the guy to his truck. It was as if he was in a trance following Peter Piper. The truck reminded him of back home where shirtless horny teens packed into the cabs letting their sweaty arms and bodies rub against each other as they laughed, joked and told lies about their sexual conquests. They passed his Uncle's house. He thought he should use his cell phone to let the man know where he was. But he was 18, not a kid anymore. He decided not to. "So you're not from here. I know cause you stare like a tourist at uh everything" the guy said "I'm Raul by the way" Ned got himself to respond feeling the strong hand in his. "oh sorry it's grimy" Raul said. Ned wanted to lick the dirt off his hand, suck on his fingers and put his hand in his lap to offer himself. "We're gonna have fun" Raul said patting him on the thigh. "I've been looking at you too you know" he said and laughed. Ned again blushed. Raul's place was a converted garage as it turned out. Long ago some owner bribed someone or ignored them as they nailed the garage door shut, installed plumbing, put up some wallboard and threw some wall to wall over the cement flooring. "Hey it's home for now, want a beer?" Raul said throwing his tool belt down and his discarded shirt on top of it. "Hope you don't mind" he added after handing a cold bottle to Ned. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down his brown legs. Ned's cock was already hard. "Gotta shower first" he said. The shower was a standup stuck in the corner next to the toilet and sink. Both were in plain view of the rest of the room. Ned watched the naked silhouette of his desire behind the transluscent shower curtain. "You can shower too" Ned said s he stepped out dripping wet .Ned wanted to kneel and take the man's cock right then and there. "Come one, I want to see what's for dinner" he said looking. Ned unbuckled his belt and sliped out of his kahaki's. He wished he hadn't worn his boxers feeling awkward having to take them off. "I thought so" Raul said. "what?" ned asked as he moved towards the shower. "hot" Raul said letting his hand slide over Ned's buttocks as he passed by. The sex was one discovery after the other. Ned didn't know if Raul was top or bottom or kinky or romantic. He seemed to be many of those things. "Where are you?" his Uncle said "do you know what time it is?" Ned could barely see the cell dialing pad in the darkness. The sound of Raul's snoring was gentle, hypnotic like the sounds of the waves coming to the shore. "Sorry Uncle. Met someone, going to class from here." Ned said "sorry to worry you". "Play safe" the man said and chuckled before hanging up. Ned was 18 and he loved to watch.... ...and more.
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Road Not Taken
Boring disclaimer: All characters are of the legal age wherever you are to be doing the stuff they do in the story, which contains graphic descriptions of sexual things which might very well offend you. I hope you enjoy the story though, that's the whole point!
The road not taken - Part 1
The boy was tied to an elaborate metal chair with thick leather straps, the straps went around his arms and legs at 4" intervals, tightly securing him and preventing almost any movement. Further straps across his chest restricted him further; each of the straps was secured with a small brass padlock. The boy knew that they were all keyed alike, as he had watched with great interest as they had been placed around him and secured.
The chair was designed in such a way that it could pivot and bend in the same way as the human body and had extensions for the arms and legs to which the straps were attached. The joints in the chair locked solidly when required, with the ability to hold the body in any position it could physically obtain, and some it couldn't. The main body of the chair was firmly embedded in the concrete floor. The boy's hands and feet were locked into solid metal enclosures, each of these was formed of two parts which hinged at one side and enclosed the hands and feet as far as the wrist and ankle. They had been made from moulds of the boy's hands and feet and fit very snugly, the inside surface being lined with a soft leather to protect his hands from the metal.
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It is about being in basic trailing in Canada and the sex that happened.
This is the beginning of how the story will lead up to the present. To get to the present I have to go to the distant past for the first story: I was in basic training in the armed forces in the early 70`s before any worry about AIDS. It was difficult being around so many hunks in our barracks but some how I had managed up until the last week of basic training. It was the last weekend before the last week and everyone in our barracks had to stay on base. It was Friday night and I had gone to bed early being exhausted from the days work out. I woke up in the night every thing was quiet. I could not get back to sleep. I was lying still when I heard one of the guys getting up. Mark was a real hunk. One of my favourites actually that I had my eye on. I decided what the heck and after he left the room and into the washroom I got out of bed and followed him quietly. I snuck up and peaked inside. There was a line of urinals and cubicles. Mark who was a good 6 feet tall stood by the urinal but was facing the door. I was lucky he was paying attention to his boxers and didn't look up. Mark tossed back his dark blonde hair and pulled his shorts down and out came a huge thick at least 9" hard cock. I almost fainted at the sight. Mark with his eyes closed began to stroke it. I licked my lips and without thinking twice moved forward. I crept closer on my tiptoes and as I approached Mark opened his lovely blue eyes and smiled. "You want some of this?" "Yeah," I said smiling and touching his hard cock. I got on my knees and took his hard cock in my mouth. I could hear Mark over top of me saying, "Suck my cock Barry oh damn--suck it good! Oh fuck I'm so damn horny!" I just kept sucking as he pushed his cock down my throat. I knew I was just a hot mouth to him but I didn't care. I needed his cock so bad. I could feel my ass twitching. I pushed my hand down as I sucked Mark's cock and pushed at my own green boxers. I had my ass exposed and wiggling it all over the place. "Oh man I know what you want. You want this up that fucking ass of yours. Well you're going to get it, because man I need some ass in the worse way!" He said pulling his cock out of my mouth and walking behind me. He spat on my ass after he spread my ass cheeks. I could feel his huge cock head pressed against my ass and then in he went. It had been a while since I'd felt a cock in my ass, so braced myself and Mark began to pound in and out of my ass moaning as he rammed it while saying some girl's name. But I could have cared less as long as he screwed me. Mark did not take long to shoot and I was sorry but thankfully he stayed hard in my ass and kept pumping. I could hear myself in a half whisper saying, "Oh fuck yes Mark, ram that cock in my ass man, fuck my ass so damn hard. Oh fuck me Mark. I need that big cock in the worse way in my ass. Pump me pump my fucking ass. Mark was saying, "Take it man. Take my fucking cock! Oh yeah, take every glorious inch in that hot ass of yours. You love my cock ramming in your guts, don't you! Yeah I know you love this cock of mine being rammed in your fucking ass. Take it man, take my fucking cock!" It must have been a good half-hour later he shot another big load into my ass. He pulled out of me and he pulled his armed forces issued boxers back on and headed for the barracks where the beds were. I went into the sink area and cleaned up my ass and headed back to my bed with a smile on my face. I though Mark and I just had a private little get together, but I was to learn the next night this was not to be the case, and I was in for a nice big surprise. End of Part firstname.lastname@example.org
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My Masturbation storeys - 2)
This is another true storey in masturbation filled life.I was 19 years old at the time when this happends, and by this point in my life I was pretty much masturbating in public daily.I got a real thrill of masturbating in publice restrooms, and had been caught once and I let this guy watch me shoot my cum.And ever since that time I had been doing it more and more.This time I again got caught, and I was made to masturbate myself like a little slut.
So it's a Friday evening and I went to the mall to just look around and of course to masturbate in the restrooms.I had only been there a few minutes and I could already feel my cock harden in pants.So I decided to hit the restrooms straight away and get myself off.So I entered the restroom and went straight in the first stall.By this point my cock was throbbing in my pants, and I could wait to just feel my long hot cock in my hands.I quickly undid my belt and pulled my pants down to my ankles, and my cock stood there proud.I decided that this time I would sit down and masturbate, so I sat down on the toilet sit.I looked down to my throbbing cock begging me to touch it and I slowly pulled my foreskin over my shinny head.I held my foreskin all the way back and just spent a few secounds looking and my wet pink head. I now so want to shoot my hot load of cum, and I took hold of my shaft and started pumping it up and down.It total pleasure and feeling so dirty and horny I closed my eyes and start to enjoy another good masturbate.
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Waterboy For The Team
I had always wanted to be on the football team same as my bigger twin brother Jake. But I was too little and too small (not like Jake at all; we were "fraternal" twins and he got all the bulk), so it was kind of hopeless. Jake and his friends would tease me every time they saw me tossing a football and they would get me into their backyard games just so they could all pile on top of me again and again. I kind of enjoyed it, though, when one of his big burly friends like Boyce would come charging at me with his massive arms and a big grin on his square, blond-haired face, wrap me in his arms and throw me to the ground underneath him. Toward the end of that summer, he even began to use a particular tackle where he'd grab my crotch and throw me down that way, ending up with his hand still on my dick and he'd kind of grind his palm into it as he got up. It got to where I'd have this big hardon every time he was headed my way and he had to have felt it but he kept on doing it anyway. When school started, I headed out for tryouts with my shoulder pads almost swallowing my head, determined to have my once-a-year time out on the field throwing the ball and being treated, for a short time, as a football player. The coach came up to me. I can't describe Coach Wittmer any better than to say he looks like the coach on "Beavis and Butthead" with the same brown hair cut in a flattop and the big muscled shoulders, and the same voice except when he got mad he didn't turn red and he was tough but not an asshole at all. He looked at me and said, "You here again Chuck? When are you going to give up, kid? Go on home, I've already seen you play." Then Boyce trotted up in his suit looking like some Norse god and said, "Why don't we keep Chuck on as the water boy, coach?" Water boy was the "team pet" position, allowed to travel with the guys and be in the locker room with them and sleep in their rooms with them and... "I'd really like that, Coach Wittmer." I chipped in. Boyce pulled the coach aside and whispered in his ear and he looked surprised, then grinned and said to me. "All right, Chuck, if you'll stop this silly attempt to get on the team, you can be our water boy." "Yahoo!" I shouted and was issued my team jersey with the number "O" on it and in place of my name, the words "Waterboy". I was as happy as if I had made first string. Jake was really pissed by my being with him on the team, mostly because I used his childhood nickname of "Jojo" when I talked to him. What could he do about it, after all, his friends all knew I wasn't making it up; they'd heard mom and dad call him that too. What he could do was play tricks on me on a regular basis, slapping me with a wet towel (the "rat bite") and so on. But I didn't care, because I was running around in the gym locker room, surrounded by all the big beefy guys, most of whom seemed to enjoy sitting around nude and chatting with each other. Boyce, who was a big man on the team, and Todd and Manuel, who with Jake were usually in our backyard games, started a routine; they would rub my head "for good luck" before the game and when that seemed to work, they decided for the second game the whole team had to give me a big hug for luck and when they won by a huge margin, I became their good luck charm. Jake's friends all laughed and looked at me and it was like they had a secret they all knew about me, and so did Jake, but he didn't like it one bit. Then came the third game, which was out of town and we were going to stay in a motel. I asked Jake if we would room together and he sneered, "Don't you know the water boy always stays with the coach? Besides, this dork town won't pay for anything but triple accommodations for the team. You'll be staying with coach, me, Boyce, Todd and Mannie all in one room, and I have to warn you, we all snore." I didn't care, but then I saw the room, which had three king-sized beds in it so close together they practically touched, all in one long row. It was like one enormous bed and I pleased to see that I would be in the number two spot, sharing the bed with coach but next to Boyce. We won that game, too, and everyone said that it was because they had all hugged me before the game and Boyce joked that it was because I had "gotten a stiffie and some of Chuck had rubbed off on each of us." I blushed bright red, and everyone laughed and poured Coke on my head and I really felt like part of the team when we went back to the motel. Getting ready for bed was crowded and I had plenty of chances to brush past these big hunks getting ready for bed, Todd the big black guy over six feet tall and enormously big, Boyce with his blond good looks, Manuel with his dark Latin eyes and skin the color of leather that he just radiated masculinity, even Jake was no piker, with his slim hips and quick moves that kept him the favorite running back for the first-string. The biggest surprise was Coach, who stripped down to his briefs, only they were boxers, and still his cock hung out the bottom of them. I goggled and he said, "What's the matter, Chuck? You never seen a dick before?" "Not that big." I admitted. "How long is it, Coach?" He smiled and said, "Twelve inches, and that's measuring it from the top." "Gosh!" I said and looked at it again and it began to push out the leg of his boxers. Then Coach turned and said, "Let's hit the sack, boys. We head back tomorrow morning at nine a.m. Crawl in with me, Lucky Chuck." And that's how I got my nickname. I did as he said and it was not very dark in that room. I raised my head up to see the line of hunks, Boyce, Jake, Manuel and Todd. It was still warm in the room despite being September, and we were all just under sheets. I thought I saw Mannie fondling his crotch and I raised up higher to get a better look. That's when I felt Boyce's hand on my leg. I looked down then over at him, and his face was solemn and intense, and his hand found its way to my crotch and he gave it a grind with his palm like he did in the backyard games. "You like that?" he whispered so softly as to be barely understood. "Uh-huh." I whispered back. "Then do mine for me, Chuck. You know you want to." It was dead silent in that room, I couldn't even hear the others breathe. I heard the shushing sound of the sheets as I slid my hand under it to find Boyce had somehow shucked his briefs to lie naked next to my brother. I grasped his cock and he moaned so softly, like an owl in the distance. "That feels so good, Chuck. You like the feel of it?" I did, though I was surprised, having never felt his cock before. Boyce was so big, I expected his cock to be big, but he was even smaller than my six inch cock. It was a nice handful, maybe five inches long and a good size around, but still, I was bigger than Boyce in this one thing. I was pleased and said, "I sure do, Boyce." "Can I fuck you?" he asked. I had dreamed of him saying that. "Sure Boyce, but how? We're surrounded." "Mannie and Todd would like to fuck you, too. Would you let them?" I saw no reason not to go along with this little fantasy. "Sure, Boyce. Even Jojo." "What about Coach?" I was getting into this fantasy. "Sure. I bet that big whanger feels real good going in." That's when I felt Coach Wittmer's hand on my ass and realized why it had been so silent in the room. I had been set up! "Oh God!" I gasped. "Coach, I, I couldn't! You're too big. I never did it before!" "We know that." Coach said with what sounded like a grin on his face. "But waterboy takes care of the coach's needs as well as the team's. I got needs right now. We'll be easy on you." They were all awake, all of them, even Jake, listening to us. "We got to break our new waterboy in right, guys. Boyce, you're smallest, you'll go first. Then Todd, then Jake, then Mannie, then me. Boyce, you'd better have brought that lube and condoms with you." Boyce had and had them handy, under his pillow, I guess, because I hadn't seen them earlier. It was a case of suddenly he was up in bed, lifting my legs and squirting cool oily liquid over my ass and running his finger over it. It felt really good and I closed my eyes and groaned. Boyce had no trouble, this Nordic god rubbing his fingers over my asshole, then to probe into it while he squirted more into the junction of finger and ass. In no time he had a second finger in, then a third and I was moaning like crazy as I looked up to see the guys surrounding me. I was encircled with hot hunks holding hardons aimed at me and I knew this would be a night I'd never forget. I grabbed Boyce by the ears and yanked him down to kiss him and he didn't struggle when I did so. He just waited until I turned him loose and said, "You ready for my dick in your butt, kiddo?" "Oh, yeah, Boyce, give it to me. All of it!" I begged. "What little there is!" Mannie snickered. He had a good nine-inches of Latin meat hanging there and I knew that if I could take Mannie, I could take Coach. I knew my brother had about eight inches and Todd was a good seven or so. Coach had sized them all up right. I would be stretched a little more with each fuck I got that night. "Shut up!" Boyce snarled. "You'll get him when I'm done with him." Like I was a piece of meat, the way they were talking. But I didn't care. Boyce slipped on a pre-lubed condom and pushed in his cock with no trouble, three fingers had been bigger around. But his cock managed still to hit places his finger hadn't stretched and without lube as well; there was some pain. Boyce would wait and let me get used to it before pushing in more. He took my cherry with a gentle kindness that I haven't seen since. When I was fully adjusted, he began to fuck me, slowly, then faster. Todd said, "Ah, hell, I can't wait much longer. Fuck him fast, Boyce! Fuck him good and hard!" "Yeah!" Mannie urged. "Give him that tiny dick of yours!" "Don't listen to him, Boyce." I sighed. "Your cock feels wonderful!" He leaned down to kiss me then and that little touch of gentleness gave wings to my passion, I hit orgasm right then, with our lips locked on each other. Boyce didn't seem to realize and didn't let go, I fought for breath through now-inadequate nostrils and had an intense orgasm. I splattered Boyce's stomach with my jism, and I shot a ton of the stuff and my ass clutched of its own volition onto Boyce's ass and Boyce went "Ohgodohgodohgod, I'm cooooooming uhhhhh!" and he shot his load into me and I felt the heat of it through the condom as it ballooned out to hold all of it. As Boyce collapsed onto me, his whole body heaving, Todd yanked him aside roughly. "My turn. I want our waterboy to lube up my cock before I shove it into him." And Todd waggled his cock in front of my face. "Go to it, waterboy. Have a taste of hard black dick!" I obediently licked at it, and tasted his smegma, he was really hot to go, and after handling the bitter taste it left on the tip of my tongue, I gulped him down and went to town on him and he groaned, grabbed my head and pumped into me hard and fast. He began to groan and I knew he was close so I managed to spit him out when he pushed my head back and said, "Easy, Todd!" "Yeah." Mannie said. "You want suckin' or fuckin'?" "His mouth is plenty hot, companero, but I think I'd better help prepare him for Coach." Todd said and slid down. "Jake you gotta try this hot mouth of your brother's. It's a wild ride." Jake had been dead silent and I looked at him, holding a hardon and said, "Come on, Jojo. Why do you think I keep hanging around you, even though you don't want me to? I won't tell mom or dad. Really." "On one condition." Jake said. "What is it?" "You never call me Jojo again."
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