Part 78

Greg looked at me as if I'd lost it completely. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Me and Paul have done it here. So have Kyle and Steve and me -- his Steve. I've done it here with my Steve, too."

"Done what?"

"Make fucking paper dolls, dude. What d'ya think?"

My bud glanced nervously around him. "Here? Under the street lights? In the middle of the night?"

"Beats the fuck outa broad daylight. Are you scared?"

"Fucking shit scared! You're crazy!"

"It heightens the thrill, man. Makes it wicked special."

"No way," he insisted as I knelt before him and unbuckled his belt. "This is total insanity, Daniel! Stop it!"

I ignored his plea for mercy and continued to undress him. His jeans fell in a crumpled heap above his Nikes. Then his boxers. His throbbing six with its juicy piss hole was staring me straight in the face. Whoa! I sent my lips over his swollen knob and along his rock-hard shaft on their mission of ecstasy.

Honk! Honk!

"Oh, Jesus!"

We ran for our lives. Greg was holding up his jeans as we dashed for the cover of the trees, but the car's headlights swept across the road and lit us up like we were being filmed. "Hey, fags! Wanna suck our dicks?" The voices weren't young -- at least not teenage -- and sounded menacing.

Greg and I took off again down the street as fast as our jelly legs could carry us. We heard the squeal of rubber and the roar of an engine behind us. Fuck! The blinding glare of the lights caught us again. "Back track," I yelled as I spun around on a dime and ran back the way we'd come. I figured the car would take a while to make a U-turn and catch up. I was dead right. Greg and I jumped a fence, ran down the drive, jumped another two fences and arrived at my street where we scampered a hundred yards or so until we'd reached our house. It seemed as though we'd woken every fucking dog in the neighborhood, including Kyle. It was a canine cacophony.

Greg slammed the front door behind him, then leaned against it before sliding down and crashing to the floor. I was spreadeagled a few feet away in the hall trying to catch my breath. Several minutes had elapsed before either of us had the energy to speak.

"Of all the fucking step bros I could've had, it had to be you!" Greg laughed in between gasps for air. "You're gonna get me in so much damn shit…"

"You love it, bro," I laughed. "Hey, you wanna get even with those pricks?"

"No way, dude…"

"C'mon, I've got an idea."

I ordered Kyle to stay as Greg and I climbed the tree out front of our house. Sure enough, within a few minutes a pair of headlights swung into our street and cruised slowly toward us. As the car approached, I yelled out, "hey, you shithead mutha fuckers! You lookin' for us?"

The car stopped just below the tree. Two guys got out and began to eyeball the area. Luckily for us, they didn't think to look up. As soon as they were directly below us, Greg and I let them have both barrels -- barrels of piss, that was. Instead of moving out of the way, the goons looked up and gave us the perfect bullseye to aim our yellow streams at.

"Why, you…!!!" one of them roared only to receive a direct hit between his idiot lips.

"Go get 'em Kyle."

In a blinding flash, my canine bud had sunk his killer teeth into their shirts and was ripping them to shreds -- first one, then the other -- like a wolf in a frenzied attack. My bro and I were cracking up so much, we had to hang on to a branch for dear life to stop from falling. The next thing we heard were two doors slamming shut before the car sped off down the street. There was a squeal of tires at the next corner. The goons had vanished.

"Let's not do it in the bedroom," Greg said, grabbing my arm as we entered the house. "Let's do it in the kitchen."

"You wanna go back to the pedestrian crossing?"

"No fucking way, man! I'm gonna have to work my way up to that -- slowly! For now, the kitchen's rad enough. And I gotta tell ya, I'm so fucking horny after all that excitement. Woohoo! My balls are bustin' big time!"

"You gotta catch me first, dude," I laughed as I took off down the hall and into the living room. Greg was right behind me as we leapt over sofas and ran around in circles, dodging and side-stepping, darting and ducking, both giggling our tits off. Eventually, he tackled me and brought me crashing to the carpet.

"Gotcha! he breathed heavily.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Greg rolled me onto my stomach and twisted my arm up my back. "You're my prisoner dude."

"Bread and water?"

"Dick and boy juice. Stand up!" He marched me to the kitchen. "Kneel, prisoner."

"What if I don't wanna?"

"You don't get fed."

"Can I undress you?"

"What is it with you? I just wanna get my rocks off!"

"And I wanna ogle your fucking body while you're doing it, fuck you!"

"OK, OK, chill, bro. Peace out. Undress me."

As I lifted Greg's t over his head and raised arms, I paused to check his bronzed, muscular pecs and soft, golden-colored armpits. Mmmm! Delicious! I took a moment to sniff his wild, sweaty scent that hit my brain like a mini tornado.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" came the agitated voice from within the shirt.

"Sniffing. Don't you sniff girls?"

"Not their fucking armpits. What the hell is this?"

I removed his shirt and threw it on the floor. My eyes travelled up from his jutting, deep-brown nipples and focused on his thick, sensuous, Eurasian lips. "Can I kiss you? Just a teensie, weensie li'l peck?"

"No."

"One millionth of a second?"

"Jeez!"

Well, it was more like a couple of seconds, and the thrill of his touch sent me instantly to Fantasy Land. What was it with straight guys? What was all this bullshit 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'm' sex with no tenderness? That thought reminded me of Paul, and how he'd always accused me of not being romantic. "Did you like it?"

"It was OK, I guess."

I kissed him again, only for a little longer. He didn't resist. "Only OK?"

"What are you trying to do, Daniel? Turn me into a raging gay?"

"No, man. I'm just trying to get you to chill and enjoy me. I love you and…"

"You what?"

"Like a brother," I mumbled, still shell-shocked from what I'd just said.

"It's more than that."

"I guess it is." What I'd unwittingly divulged was only just beginning to dawn on me. Love him? Did I? As in L O V E?

"You really mean that, Daniel? You love me?"

As I gazed into his questioning, dark-brown eyes, there was only one word to say. "Yeah."

"Kiss me again."

It wasn't a sexual kiss, but a warm and tender kiss that communicated genuine love and affection, and it lasted for a full minute or more. Our arms were wrapped around each other like we never wanted to let each other go. Our souls and hearts had connected. We were united in friendship and love, and would be forever. That was an undeniable, fucking fact.

"Now, Daniel, I have a very close friend that I'd really like you to meet. He's just about three feet south of your face and he's DYING to get to know you, dammit!"

I knelt before my bro and slid his pulsating six into my mouth. But, for some reason, he wasn't being his usual aggressive self. I spat it out. "What's the matter?"

"I can't do it."

"Why not?"

"'Cause… well, fuck it, you said you love me. How can I fuck your face if you love me?"

I stood up. "Now listen up, Greg. You remember how I punched your fucking lights out the other day? I can do it again just as easily. So listen up good. If you love me -- and do you?"

"Yeah."

"K, if you love me -- do you really?

"Yeah." His grin was a mile wide, and his teeth sparkled like deep-sea pearls.

"K, if you love me -- whoa! I can't believe this! Where was I? Oh, yeah, if you love me you'll do me a big fav and fuck my face like it's gonna be your last blow job. I'm gonna be gasping for air and ready for intensive care. I'm gonna be gagging so much you'll be freaking big time. But you won't stop. Got it? You'll pump the fuck outa my face until you've fired your last sticky wad. Is that understood, bro?"

"You're crazy."

"Yeah. But I love your dick."

Maybe I shouldn't have said all that stuff about gasping and gagging. Greg took everything I'd said literally and thrust his fat, veiny six inches down my gullet as though he was trying to stab a wild pig to death. Just as I was beginning to have serious thoughts about calling in the marines, a flood of warm boy juice exploded into my mouth. My face was pressed hard against his aromatic pubes, and his fingers were digging into my scalp. The entire house was reverberating with the sounds of his feral screams. My Adam's apple was bouncing frantically as though it was on a mini-trampoline. But I managed to savor and swallow every precious and delicious drop of his sweet nectar.

That night, we slept in the same bed. Greg fell asleep almost straight away, but I laid awake just exploring his awesome body with my finger tips and being content to be beside his warm, smooth skin. Every now and then I would run my hands through his long, silky, black hair and feel the contours of his angelic face. How could I not love him? He was a man, a boy, an angel and a devil all rolled into one. But, right then, as he slept, he was an angel. I kissed his sweet, tender lips several times as he dreamt, and I smelt his hot breath. "I love you, bro."

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