Boy Fun, Four Book Bundle

by Alex Jordaine

  A normal evening passed between us – a drink, a meal, a walk around the stores. Standing at the bus stop, though, he suddenly let slip an almost violent, ‘oh, shit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I've only gone and forgotten my keys again. They're still in my fucking desk.’

  I looked at my watch – heaven knows why; the office locked up when we left. There'd be no one there ’til morning. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Oh, I don't know.’ He sighed loudly. ‘How comfortable's your couch?’

  ‘OK, I guess ... no, it's fine. It's yours. Come on. You can even have another cup of coffee.’

  All the way home on the bus, my mind was racing. Did he deliberately forget his keys? Did he really want to sleep on the couch? Should I offer him the bed and take the couch myself? I hoped not – I was lying when I said it was fine. There were more lumps in that thing than a vat of cottage cheese. Which meant the smartest, kindest solution would be for us both to ... yes, but I didn't even want to think about that right now. He'd already spotted one inadvertent stiffy; another one, and who knows what he'd think. Or would he? Those smiles, that laugh, that question.

  The bus stopped and we walked the few yards to my apartment. At the door, digging into my pocket for my keys, I felt my hand brush Marty’s ass. No big deal, I'm sure that wasn't the first time I'd done it. But this time, I noticed; and, from his intake of breath, so did he.

  Once inside, I did it again, as I helped him off with his coat. Clumsier, this time, though; accidentally on purpose, and there was no reaction at all. Damn. I put the kettle on.

  ‘Coffee, this late?’ he asked. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to keep me awake.’

  ‘Well ...’ I admitted I'd not been strictly truthful about the couch; and he admitted he'd not been truthful about wanting to sleep on it. ‘I saw that bed of yours. There’s plenty of room for us both in there. You won't even know I'm there.’ He paused. ‘I bet your early morning visitor will, though.’ And suddenly he was in my arms, his mouth locked against mine and his entire body pressed tight against me. I just about remembered to switch the kettle off again before we dragged one another into the bedroom and, by the time we’d undressed one another, it was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing, brushing my cock with his, his warm hardness teasing my nerve ends with exquisite tenderness.

  ‘You don't know how many times I've dreamed of this,’ I whispered, holding him close to me.

  ‘You don't know how many times I've dreamed of a lot of things.’ He smiled, his breath and then his tongue warm on one of my nipples.

  I stroked his hair as he closed his lips around it, then let out a small groan as he shifted slightly, and began tracing down my stomach.

  He moved slowly, almost distractedly. Light kisses, soft bites, gentle nuzzles. I felt his tongue flick inside my belly button, then move sideways and linger gently on my side. His body, too, was in barely perceptible motion, shifting his weight, manoeuvring around. Turning my head, I could see his prick swaying, a sheen of pre-come catching the light from the bedside lamp. I wondered what it would taste like, but resisted the temptation. I wanted to see what he was planning, first.

  Marty’s mouth was lower now, kissing my stomach, just inches away from my granite-aching cock. He showed no sign of being interested in that, though; one moment he was close enough that a simple twitch would have touched his tongue, the next he was softly biting the top of my leg. Then, as his hand gently cupped my balls, he stopped and looked up at me with an expression of unfathomable innocence. ‘You're probably going to think I'm an absolute idiot, but – what do I do now?’

  ‘Nothing ... you're doing fine,’ I whispered, but he didn't move.

  ‘No, I mean ...’ His hand slipped onto my shaft. ‘I've never ...’ Again his voice trailed away, and I suddenly understood.

  ‘Whatever you want ... whatever you think will feel good – for both of us.’ I racked my brain for the right words. How do you explain to someone how to suck your cock? ‘You put it in your mouth and ....’ No. I tried to play it cool. ‘Kiss me again like you were doing, but this time don't cover so much ground.’

  ‘Like this?’ His lips grazed the base of my shaft, lingered for a moment, then retreated.

  ‘Yeah, but a little harder, and a little longer.’

  ‘Like this?’ Again I felt his lips there, exactly as I said; a little harder and a little longer.

  ‘That's it. Now keep doing that for a moment. See what I taste like; use your tongue a little.’

  Obediently – that's the only word for it – he began sliding his mouth gently around, occasionally touching the top of my sac, but always stopping just short of the head of my cock.

  I was rock hard by now, but his hand kept my cock pressed firmly to my belly, as his tongue began to roam more freely.

  ‘Let it go, touch the tip,’ I breathed, half-conscious of just how absurd those words sounded, but scarcely caring as his lips finally closed over the end. ‘That's wonderful,’ I sighed. ‘Don't stop.’

  ‘You're not going to ...’

  ‘Come? No, not yet. I'll let you know.’ Much as I would have loved to, I didn't think Marty would appreciate a mouthful of spunk this early in his apprenticeship. But, no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I almost lost it altogether, as his lips sunk over the tip, over the head, and half my cock disappeared inside his mouth. He held me there for a moment, withdrew and then sunk down again. From the back of his throat, I heard him moan, then gasped with amazement as he licked me again, his tongue sweeping across the top of my cock, then pausing to twirl a little, as though it was trying to burrow inside the hole, and winkle out more of the pre-come that was now beginning to flow so freely.

  ‘You like that?’ His voice was dancing. ‘I'm glad. Because I can't believe how delicious you are!’

  His head dipped as he took half ... more than half of me into his mouth, and then his movements grew more frenzied, fuck-sucking my cock as hard as he could, pausing for a breath, tossing a loose strand of hair from his face, and then taking me deeper every time. Again, his cock was right in front of me, so close I could almost taste it, and so wet with his own clear juices that I could have drunk from it. It was too late to stop myself; I reached out and grasped his ass, dragged him over my face and pulled his hardness into my mouth, sucking hard even as I forced my throat to relax around him

  My nose grazed his ball bag, and he gave a little groan. But nothing was going to distract him from his new-found pleasure, nothing at all. He slipped off my face with a whispered, ‘You'll get your turn in a moment. But I want to see what you really taste like.’

  That was it – as his words sank in, I felt a massive orgasm welling up inside me, tightening my balls, building up the full length of my cock. Quickly, I groaned out a warning, and felt him halt his sucking long enough for the first jet of come to spurt out of me; I sensed, rather than saw it spatter on his chest, and I knew that soon, I'd be licking it off and passing it back into his mouth with my tongue. As I began to sit up, though, Marty had my cock back in his mouth, greedily drawing every last drop of spunk out of me, sucking and swallowing me dry and holding me in his mouth even as I started to soften.

  ‘Jesus, that was amazing,’ I breathed as he finally released me and clambered back up to face me. ‘Are you sure that was your first time?’

  He laughed out loud. ‘It's always the first time with somebody new,’ he replied. ‘The trick is, to make sure that it always remains the first time as well. Now, hadn't you better ask me exactly how I'd like you to suck me? It's your first time as well, you know.’

  It’s A Sin

  by Alex Jordain

  As a teenager I was a late developer sexually and, with the wisdom of hindsight, I’m sure I know why that was: I was putting off the evil day. And I use the expression advisedly.

  When that day did finally arrive and I discovered the delights of masturbation, I found what I was doing a decidedly guilty pleas
ure. This was because I’d been raised as a Catholic – a religion that teaches that self-pleasuring is sinful. What I went on to do, though, was in a different league altogether to the solitary act of masturbation and would certainly be regarded as wicked by the Catholic Church. In fact, they would call what I did a mortal sin.

  It all started on a Sunday. I was looking forward to the week ahead as it was a half term holiday. As usual I was attending Mass, but instead of worshipping God I was on my knees worshipping the pretty blond altar server who was assisting the priest with the service.

  His name was Jerry and he was a year older than me. He lived nearby with his widowed mother. She and my mother were friendly through their involvement with the Church but Jerry and I were only passing acquaintances. On this occasion, though, as our mothers talked to one another after the service, Jerry and I also got into conversation and were getting on really well.

  ‘What are you doing this week?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve nothing planned,’ he replied. ‘How about the two of us going swimming tomorrow afternoon?’

  I said I thought this was a good idea and we made arrangements to meet.

  That night, I couldn’t resist the temptation to masturbate as I imagined what Jerry might look like without clothes – I was about to find that out, and a hell of a lot more besides.

  We got together the next day and made our way to the nearby open-air swimming pool. As we walked along, chatting about this and that, I allowed my gaze to wander up and down Jerry’s body. I couldn’t help thinking how good he looked in his skin-tight jeans. I admired the perfect shape of his rear, moulded into the faded denim, and the impressive bulge at the front.

  Although the weather was reasonably mild that day, there were a lot of wet-looking clouds in the sky, and when we arrived we found that the pool was only sparsely attended. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the water, which looked downright cold. We went into the changing rooms and, at Jerry’s suggestion, shared a cubicle. As he stripped off, I was surprised – and turned on – to notice that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear beneath those tight jeans. I was aware that my cock was starting to swell when I slipped into my swimming trunks, and found it a decided relief – an embarrassment averted – to run on ahead and plunge into the chilly water of the swimming pool.

  Jerry and I stayed in the pool for about an hour, splashing about, and it gradually warmed up. Every once in a while the sun even deigned to reveal itself through a break in the clouds, allowing reflected light to dance on the rippling blue water. Jerry and I swam and played in the pool – and, OK, maybe we did make physical contact a bit more than was strictly necessary in our games there.

  When we got out of the water the changing room was empty apart from ourselves. We dried off in the same cubicle, still in our swimming costumes. However, our bulges were becoming increasingly pronounced and when I took off my swimming trunks my cock sprang out erect.

  ‘Mmm, that looks very nice,’ said Jerry, who pulled down his trunks to reveal his own lengthening erection. ‘Come on,’ he said, his member now as full and stiff as my own. ‘Let’s jerk off together.’

  Feeling light-headed and extremely excited, I encircled my erect cock with my fingers as I watched Jerry bring a hand to his own erection. We both rubbed our cocks up and down vigorously, climaxing at pretty much the same time. And equally lavishly too, spraying out streams of sticky wetness onto each other with great force. It was an amazing feeling, it truly was – my first time masturbating with anyone else, and the most intense sexual experience that I’d so far had in my young life.

  Jerry and I showered, dried ourselves, dressed and headed for home, both of us more than a little subdued. We said very little as we strode along, lost in our own guilty thoughts. Just as we were about to part, however, Jerry brightened. ‘Fancy coming round to my house tomorrow?’ he said. He told me that his mother would be at work all day so we’d have the place to ourselves.

  ‘That’d be great,’ I replied.

  ‘It’s a date, then. See you around 11 a.m.’ Jerry’s face suddenly broadened into a devilish grin. ‘Hey, and no more jerking off until then.’

  That proved easier said than done. I fidgeted about uneasily in my bed that night. My mind was in a whirl going over and over what Jerry and I had done together and what might happen tomorrow. According to my Church all these “impure thoughts” were a sin but the feelings of guilt this caused just seemed to make my cock harder. I was excited as much as anything by the intoxicating shame of my own arousal. Even so, although it took a deal of willpower, I didn’t touch myself that night.

  The next day I killed time earlier in the morning trying to decide what to wear for my “date”. A clean white T-shirt and one of my pairs of jeans, I thought. On a whim, I removed my underwear, taking a leaf out of Jerry’s book, and squeezed into the oldest, and, more to the point, tightest pair of jeans I possessed.

  I set off, slightly nervous but very excited, the knot in my stomach no competition for the throbbing of my shaft. My growing sense of anticipation and the rough feel of the tight denim against my cock meant that I was in a high state of sexual arousal by the time I arrived at Jerry’s house.

  When he answered the door I was struck anew by how devastatingly attractive he was, with his blond hair falling over his forehead; that pretty face and lithe, athletic body. He was wearing nothing but the faded jeans he’d worn the day before, which clung to his form like a second skin.

  ‘Hi there, you’re looking good,’ he said, reaching over and squeezing the bulge in my own skin-tight jeans. I did the same to him, feeling the warmth of his cock beneath the straining denim.

  ‘Would you like a coffee or anything else to drink?’ he asked.

  ‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ I replied.

  ‘You sure are,’ he said with another devilish grin. ‘Follow me, we’ll go up to my room and fool around.’

  Once in his bedroom we hastily stripped and were soon on his bed mutually masturbating, our excitement growing and growing. We climaxed simultaneously in great bursting spurts, and then lay together in the afterglow, the come on our bellies intermingling.

  We washed ourselves and put on our jeans, then went and had a snack in the kitchen and just hung out for a while around the house. But it wasn’t long before our lust erupted again and our swelling members were straining once more against the tight denim that covered them. We were soon naked and erect again in his bedroom, masturbating each other feverishly. And for most of the rest of that afternoon we simply couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

  ‘How about tomorrow?’ asked Jerry, as I was about to leave.

  ‘You bet,’ I replied eagerly.

  It seemed like an eternity to me until we met the next day. I reckon Jerry must have felt much the same way because as soon as he’d let me into the house and shut the front door he pulled me towards him and kissed me hard. I kissed him right back, savouring the slick, demanding feel of his lips and frantic tongue, and reciprocating for all I was worth. Jerry and I carried on kissing passionately while rubbing our bulging cocks together, getting more and more turned on. We then went up to his room, stripped naked again and began mutually masturbating once more. Then the mood changed ...

  ‘Kneel down,’ Jerry said all of a sudden, his tone chilly with command. I obeyed in an instant. ‘Now suck me off,’ he added, ‘and make a good job of it.’

  I was determined to do just that. I engulfed his stiff cock with my lips – it tasted so good, I can’t tell you – and swirled my tongue around its swollen head. My tongue laved his cock, licking the thickness, my lips kissing and rubbing against it so that it flexed and strained against my mouth. Next, I began sucking on his shaft with slow regular movements, then faster, then slower, then faster still. I felt as if I was born to give blow jobs. It made me feel deliciously wicked, thoroughly debauched and perverted and sinful.

  After I’d been blowing Jerry for a while he announced, ‘I’m going to climax real soo
n now.’ His voice was full of sexual tension but just as commanding as before. ‘When I do,’ he added, ‘I want you to swallow my come, every last drop.’

  I wanted to do that too, craved it. The thought of it made me shiver with pleasure. I could taste the beads of liquid seeping constantly from the slit of his cock and knew that they would soon be a gushing torrent. Then it happened. Jerry emitted a strangled moan and erupted to a shuddering orgasm, his cock gushing wad after wad of creamy come deep into my mouth. And I did exactly as I’d been told. My head still furiously pumping, I drew down every ounce of the semen that spurted onto the back of my tongue, taking it deep into my throat – every last drop of it.

  There’s not a lot to add to my story after that. Jerry and I carried on meeting in the same way for the rest of that half term week. And the following Sunday saw me at Mass on my knees again, my cock pulsing constantly as I worshipped that beautiful blond altar server. As a devout Roman Catholic I knew what I was feeling and what I’d done was sinful and wicked in the extreme, but I just couldn’t help myself. I felt so guilty about it all, I really did. And the guilt I felt was delicious.

  Snow Wolf

  by John Connor

  In my mind I can still see the snow, vast masses of snow, and pine trees – forest for mile upon square mile. It was deep in Mother Russchkya at the start of the winter, November 1905, and it was a time of chaos and uncertainty. The Mensheviks were already beginning to form up and the Revolution was starting to take shape. The supposed bloody joys of politics in reality turned people against each other.

  But all of that was of little or no concern to me. I had my forest cabin, my traps, my fish lines and my small herd of goats. Let them have their Revolution, for all the good it will do them! I had chosen my life, out of necessity and harsh social pressures, and if truth be known, as a young man I no longer cared for high finance and the power of the Rouble. I had finally found peace and fulfilment, albeit in the form of my now simple life.