Part 98

Josh bent his throbber down to horizontal and shifted his bare feet a little to maximize his balance. As I gazed up at his awesome nakedness, I saw the light from the torches casting dancing shadows across his tanned torso, and accentuating the firm muscles of his chest and abs. I placed my hands on his thighs and ran my fingers over his narrow hips, then all the way up his long, pronounced lats to his pecs, where I used my thumbs to massage his erect nipples.

"It’s kinda weird having all the guys watching."

"Once you feel my lips and tongue, man, you wouldn't care if the damn Pope was watching. Go for it." As soon as I’d opened my mouth, I got my tongue riding his knob right away.

"Holy shit!"

The other guys cracked like hell, knowing that Josh would have been totally unprepared for the incredibly erotic sensation that accompanied a warm, wet tongue being wrapped his cock.

"Use your hips, dude," someone said. "Grab his head," another yelled.

Josh rested his nervous hands on my blonde hair, then slowly began to send his hard shaft forward. "Oh, jeez!"

"Faster!"

As each second ticked by, the novice gradually grew more confident and aggressive, and increased the speed of his thrusting. Soon, he was holding my head like a footballer about to kick a goal, and plunging his thick, hard six all the way to the back of my throat.

"Don’t worry about Daniel’s gagging," Paul laughed, "he’s taken worse than that from me already."

Naturally, with a faceful of feral teen meat, I was in no position to be able to tell my smartass bud to get knotted, but his advice was eagerly accepted by Josh who pumped my face with the all energy and determination of a crazed stallion.

The other three guys sensed that the big moment was fast approaching, and crawled closer to watch the climax of Josh’s very first head job. The intensely curious expressions on their young faces were just inches away from the furious action. Meantime, I'd reached around and grabbed the kid's smooth, round buns which were flexing as he fucked the hell outa my mouth.

Josh’s groans began as a kinda surprised wimper, as if he were shocked by the incredibly electric sensations centered on his crotch. Then the volume of his voice became a roar, and shot up a couple of octaves. My nose was pressed against his pubes as the first of his thick, sticky wads exploded from his knob and found my throat. More followed in quick succession. His fingers dug into my scalp and his wildly erupting piss hole thumped the shit outa my mouth. The guys were going totally ballistic. "Whoa!" "This is fucking awesome." "Go Josh!" "Woohoo."

Josh let out a long, satisfied sigh as the last of his delicious boy juice jetted out of his knob and slid down my throat. The tension in his fingers relaxed, and his body had ceased to convulse. I moved my head back to allow his slowly deflating cock to flop outa my mouth, then squeezed his still-swollen knob to lick the final blob of fresh jizz.

"Well?" the guys asked in unison, all eyebrows raised in anticipation of some earth-shattering statement.

There was a long pause before our new friend could speak. "No words, man," he said, shaking his head. "No fucking words."

For the next hour or so, we sat around on the sand in the warm night air drinking beer, just chatting about all kinds of shit and listening to Steve’s CD player. Mostly, though, Josh wanted to know about us, the kinda things we did, how we all met, and stuff like that. "I was a right fucking dickhead at first," I explained. "Paul and I had this huge fight ‘cause I was homophobic. But we’re all way cool buds, now."

"It’s so cool about your step bro Greg, though -- I mean, all the shit that you two have been through, and how cool he is now."

"It’s conditioning, man. Most people are conditioned to think a certain way, and they confuse opinion with fact. Opinion’s got nothing to do with fucking fact. Just takes a bit of re-conditioning," I laughed, then took another sip of beer. "By the way, thanks for the drinks and eats, man. We thought we were gonna exist on sandwiches and soda."

"My pleasure, guys. You have no idea what a fucking awesome experience it’s been meeting y’all. Y’all rock something wicked," he grinned.

Without so much as a word, and just as casual as you fucking like, Benny stood, beer can still in hand, pointed his semi at Paul and proceeded to shower the kid with a flood of piss. Some splashed on Paul’s can of beer, but it didn’t seem to bother him. The whole crazy scenario made me crack big time ‘cause it was just so damn offhand, like it was as natural as breathing. "You’d better take a wash in the bay, Paul."

"Later. I’m gonna be pissed on again, anyway," he giggled.

"None of my friends would believe this in a million years!" Josh shook his head again in disbelief. "I’m not even sure I do. How come I get the feeling that you guys are like unique -- that I’m on a little beach with a bunch of guys who are from some other planet or something."

"Same planet, dude," Steve laughed. "Hey, before I met Daniel, I figured I was the only guy who had fantasies about gay stuff -- especially the kinda stuff that Daniel does. And suddenly I’m like, "jeez, there are more guys like me! Cool!""

"Yeah," Benny agreed, squeezing the last jet of piss from his dick, then shaking off the final few drops, "I was frozen fucking solid before I met Daniel. Like in some straight-jacket. Now, I just kinda hang loose. No stress, man. No more fucking stress."

"But this piss thing? I mean, it’s like some kinda ritual or whatever."

"Maybe it is," Paul argued. "Maybe it’s some kinda territorial instinct thingy. So I guess Benny’s just claimed me," he cracked, then studied his beer can for any sign of Benny's contribution.

"But, I mean, what if your folks knew about this stuff, or other guys from school?"

"What makes you think we’re the only ones with kinky skeletons in our closets, dude?" I asked. "You think we’re the only oddballs amongst five billion people? Huh? You think every dude you see walking down the street is actually who he portrays himself to be? Respectable, honest, sincere, law-abiding, like butter wouldn’t melt in his fucking mouth? Sure, there are only four crazies in this world, and we’re it. Gimme a break."

"How come you know all this, man? You’re just a teen."

"I know an old fart who’s cool."

"Yeah, right. How can an old fart be cool?" Josh laughed.

"‘Cause he’s an old fart with attitude."

"The thing is," Benny added, "we all grow up in a jail -- at least that’s what my uncle says. He was in jail for a time ‘cause he screwed up and fiddled his company’s books. He had a gambling addiction. Anyway, when he got outa jail, he said it was like the whole world was there in front of him and he could just go where ever he pleased. There were no walls like the walls we have in our heads. Yeah, walls, man." Benny tapped his skull to illustrate his point. "Walls put there by parents, teachers, governments, peers, you name it. It’s like we live in an invisible cell, so my uncle says, a cell that’s just as real as a prison. You can do this but you can’t do that. Dinner’s at six. School’s at 8:30. What are these magazines doing under your bed, Benny? Jacking off makes your hand hairy. Hey, you know the deal, dude. It’s all fucking rules, rules, rules."

"Yeah! Other peoples’ rules!" Paul chirped.

"You never told me any of this stuff before, Benny," I said.

"Hey, Daniel, we all have our little secrets," he smiled. "Anyway, dude, my uncle was right, and you were the guy who let me outa jail. You were the guy who showed me the blue sky and the sunshine -- and the birds flying around like there were no walls."

"Hey, guys," Josh interrupted, "I don't mean to sound like a wet blanket here, but this is beginning to sound like anarchy."

"No way, man," Steve protested, "anarchy is about not caring, or not having any order. That’s not what this is about, man. This is about being free to express yourself. It’s like Benny’s uncle says, we’re born and raised in a cell, with all kinds of rules that don’t suit us for one reason or another. Y’know? Like one rule is cool for one guy but not for me. Why should I be pressured into being the same as the next guy? Or why should he be pressured into being the same as me? How can you have exactly the same set of moral standards for two different dudes?"

"Easy," Steve laughed, "you force them to conform. Or else! Ve haf our vays!"

"Yeah, but conform to what?" Benny asked. "Hey! My beer's gone. I need another."

"Listen up, guys," Josh announced, "I’m gonna do something totally rad. I mean, like this is way over the fucking top for me." The kid drained the last of the beer down this throat, placed the can on the sand and stood with his dick pointed at Paul. "Is it cool with you, Paul?"

"Fuck Paul!" I said. "This is important. This is like some kinda initiation thingy. I don’t normally like being pissed on, but I want you to piss on me." All four guys looked as me as though I'd just announced a plan to assassinate the president.

"You? But you’re..."

"What?"

"I dunno... kinda macho, I guess. I’d feel kinda... I mean, it wouldn’t seem right."

"Chill with the guilts. OK? Just fucking do it. It'll make you feel better."

The other guys couldn’t believe what I was saying. "You’ve had too much beer, Daniel. You’re fucking out of it."

"I know what I’m doing, guys. Josh needs to loosen up. This is probably never gonna happen again, but I figure it should happen once. You ready, Josh?"

"You sure?"

"Spray me, dude."

The kid nervously pointed his semi at me. All eyes were riveted on the kid’s dick. A droplet of sparkling liquid formed on his pisshole. "I really gotta go, man," he pleaded.

"Go for it."

I watched the thin stream of yellow burst from his knob and jet through the air toward me. A second later, my chest was dripping with his wetness, and then... Whoa! This guy was getting carried away big time! I had to close my eyes as his torrent of piss splattered my face, then travelled down to my pecs again. It seemed to be lasting a helluva long time. How the fuck could a guy piss for so damn long?

I grabbed a nearby towel and quickly dabbed my eyes before opening them. Steve? Paul? What the fuck? Oh, to hell with it. I decided to just sit there and let the whole damn thing happen. I closed my eyes again, then joined them in their adolescent giggling as they drenched me with their golden floods. Pity about Benny, though. He’d already spent his, and I wasn’t about to let this happen again in a hurry.

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