Funny Bone

by Daniel W. Kelly

  It was on a night when they had all just finished prettying up to hit a strip club, only to find it was a blizzard outside, that they first got Aaron to eat all their asses, simply out of sheer boredom (and horniness, since the majority of them had been looking forward to watching a bunch of chicks shake their tits). Aaron had been the last to shower and return to his and Rocky’s room, only to find the guys crashed on his lower bunk in a row, watching a movie on the flat screen TV. When they’d broken the news to him that they were stuck inside for the night, he’d innocently said he was going to finish some leftover tossed salad still in their mini-fridge.

  It had been none other than Lonny who had remarked, “You can toss my salad, Man Whore. Full of flavor and no calories.”

  “Hey, Lon, I thought ass eating was nasty,” Justin said.

  “Nah, nah. You misunderstood,” Lonny said. “It’s nasty doing it to someone else. It’s fine when I got a pretty mouth locked on to my corn hole.”

  “Hey! You better watch what you ask for!” Rocky said. “You offer it up to my man, he’ll eat it.”

  “You got that right,” Aaron said, sticking out his tongue.

  “Yeah? Then come right over here and put that tip right on my asshole,” Lonny challenged. He even began unbuckling his pants.

  “So, you’ve had your ass eaten, Lons?” Chul asked from his end of the bed.

  “Just one bitch. And it felt great. But most bitches don’t wanna do that shit. They think it’s nasty,” Lonny said.

  Aaron smiled. “I don’t.”

  “Yeah. We know…we saw you eat Pervy’s ass, remember?” Justin noted, pushing his fisherman’s cap up on his head, as if preparing to get a better view of anything that might happen. And he was just in time.

  “Well, come on, Man Whore,” Lonny said.

  “Well, show me the lettuce!” Aaron shot back.

  Lonny easily lifted his legs and placed his feet on the bottom of the upper bunk, then slipped his pants to his knees. As usual, he was not wearing undies. “Come on, bitch. Find the red cherry in this big piece of chocolate.”

  Aaron didn’t hesitate in dropping to his knees at the side of his bunk. Lonny’s ass was a deep, rich color, and his spread crack almost hairless, except for a small outline of curls around the center slit. Aaron stuck his tongue out and gave it a lick.

  “Daaaaaaamn,” Lonny sighed. His dark hole pulsed in reaction.

  Aaron looked at the line of guys on his bed, watching nonchalantly, no longer reactive to such activities. “Who’s next?”

  It was like a line of dominoes as Chul, Justin, and Rocky all kicked their legs up and yanked their pants to their knees on his bunk.

  “Hey!” Lonny barked. “Bitch, you gotta lick it till you get to the candy center!”

  “Keep your pants off,” Aaron quipped. “I’m just warming up. I’ll get back to you.”

  The foursome got their asses eaten deep that night as Aaron went up and down the line, enjoying the smooth freshness of Chul’s tight ass and the somehow naked pucker that was surrounded by a forest between Justin’s slim cheeks, then salivating at the rich musk of the large slot that was buried in a mess of curls between Rocky’s fat flabby mounds before starting all over again at Lonny.

  Once the guys had gotten a taste of getting their asses tasted, the pastime became part of the regular roster. On nights they stayed in to just hang and drink or play video games, they would often line up on all fours on the floor, video game controllers in hand, their pants down and asses up, and tell Aaron he’d get a chance to play after he gave them all tongue baths. He’d sometimes spend up to an hour just dropping his face into one ass after another while his buddies focused on their manly war games. When he’d get posed questions like, “whose ass tastes best,” he’d also hear some major protesting when he’d tell them Rocky’s, but it was true. Rocky had some serious man flavor, and it turned Aaron on. He could stay with his mouth crammed into that crack all night…but he wouldn’t want his other buddies to get jealous.

  After the no holes barred transition, skiing trips back at the cabin got really fun. The guys would play drinking games to see who got to fuck Aaron first, and second runner up got to fuck him in the mouth at the same time. The guys really seemed to get off on how slutty they could treat a piece of man ass without hurting his feelings—the things they would cheer as they scored with him clearly defined his role in their group as a cum bucket and fuck hole. But that was only when they were fucking him. When the testosterone wasn’t oozing out their every pore, he was just good old Aaron, one of their buddies. And they never resorted to any derogatory terms like faggot or homo, even in the heat of the moment, maybe partially for fear of being guilty by association (aka: having their dicks up his ass).

  Before long, they began playing what they called a “sinking” game in which they walked circles around Aaron as he posed doggy style in front of the fireplace while watching a movie, and as soon as a designated word was said in the dialogue, they would have to stop and try to stick their dick in the nearest orifice. More often than not, Aaron would have dueling dicks jammed in his butt at the same time. It hurt like hell at first, but he got used to it and looked forward to the battle for his butt.

  The one night he could barely remember was caught on video by his troublemaking buddies. After a long day of skiing, he was particularly beat, and not even a soak in the hot tub and loads of Justin’s cocktails could make him feel better. He just wanted to sleep. But the guys wanted in and begged him not to be a downer. Finally, he brought them a bottle of lube, stuffed a pillow under his belly as he lay facedown on the carpet in front of the fireplace, and drunkenly slurred, “Guys. I’m passing out now. Have fun, and just be gentle.”

  They were all buzzed and having a good time, so they decided to place a digital video camera on Aaron’s back to get footage of all the penetration, fully intending to send it to fuckedfratboys dot com since none of their faces would be shown. But they did some hilarious narrating, not even needing to disguise their voices since they were speaking so slow in their drunkenness. While taking several turns pounding Aaron’s ass on camera, they’d quickly formulated an idea off camera; they’d all jerk off and spooge right in his ass cavern after they were done fucking him. It was at that point that Justin had grabbed the camera off Aaron’s back to get close-ups. The guys got a kick out of how bruised, battered, and stretched Aaron’s hole looked after they gang-banged him, so with filmed footage they’d have a memory to cherish. And, as planned, they’d each shot a load right into his sunken crater, holding his cheeks apart to capture the full impact of just how much jizz was filling up the cup.

  The next morning when Aaron woke on the floor where they’d left him, they were already sitting on the couch eating breakfast and watching TV.

  “Dude, how’s the ass feel?” Justin asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

  Aaron was so drowsy he could barely lift his upper body to look over his shoulder at his raised ass. “I don’t know. What did you do?”

  “Down-Low, there was a par-tay in your ass last night!” Lonny smiled as he wrapped his full black lips around a piece of sausage.

  Aaron dropped his head back down into his arms and closed his eyes and muttered, “Good. Glad everyone had fun. Sorry I missed it.”

  “Not a prob!” Rocky said excitedly, lifting his heft off the couch and handing his empty plate to Chul before grabbing the camera they’d used from a nearby table. He dropped his mass onto the floor, landing on his belly and crawling over to Aaron until they were face-to-face. “Check it out. We got it on camera. Your ass is a star.”

  He pressed play and held the viewer screen in front of Aaron’s eyes. Aaron found the strength to open his eyes and watch a bit. Finally, he muttered, “Hot.”

  “Yeah. But wait till you see the end. You might need to soak your ass for a while in the hot tub to soften up all the dried cum between your cheeks,” Rocky said seriously, but it made the other guys in the room crack up
and choke on their toast and orange juice.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Aaron said. “No way I’m going skiing again today.”

  Rocky basically ignored his words, since he knew he’d be able to persuade him to go out on the mountain once he was awake. “So, we want to put this on fuckedfratboys dot com, but we need a name for the video.”

  “How about campus fag gets ass destroyed by big black dick and three small white dicks?” Aaron was able to be sarcastic even with a hangover.

  Rocky, Chul, and Justin all barked with protest, but Lonny sprang off the couch and grabbed the camera from Rocky. “Perfect. I’m going to upload this shit right now. Hope no one sees it and recognizes my dick.”

  As he headed off to get his laptop from the bedroom, Chul called, “Don’t worry! Those big black dicks all look the same! No character!”

  The other guys guffawed and hooted to drown out whatever response Lonny called back.

  Needless to say, after Rocky had gotten some coffee into Aaron, they’d spent the day on the slopes. That night, when they let him watch the full video on fuckedfratboys dot com so he could give it a “like” vote, he was quite upset—that he had been passed out for the whole thing. He’d spend years jerking off to that video and watching the “like” votes climb into the six-figure zone.

  The guys did keep their man whore busy. They were also extremely protective of him. None of the other jocks on campus dared try to bully Aaron or call him any derogatory names. It was almost like they were in prison, and he was their bitch. He was going to miss them after they graduated and he still had one year left.

  But while Aaron was enjoying being gay and single, he was also nagged by intense guilt. By the time the fivesome had returned from their first skiing trip that first holiday, the geeks who’d found Professor Turvy tied up in their dorm room had already moved to another dorm, without even a single good-bye. The guys never did find out what had happened when the teacher was found. There wasn’t so much as a whispered rumor on campus. And Turvy just went on with his teaching, his nursing, and his fingering of male students.

  It was three semesters later when Aaron could no longer put off his health class requirement that he ended up in Turvy’s class, and the guilt over what he’d done got worse. While he wanted so badly to just stare all throughout the lecture at the short, bearish, bearded baldy with the thick, hairy forearms always prominently sticking out of a short-sleeved shirt once he took off his jacket at the beginning of class, Aaron felt like if he made any eye contact with the teacher, it would all come out, that Turvy would see the thought bubble over his head that said, “I kidnapped you and had my way with your ass.” So he never volunteered or even spoke to Turvy. Yet he rocked the grades in the class, scoring As on all tests and papers.

  Finally, as the semester was coming to a close, his conscience took hold of him. He decided to go down to the nurse’s office pretending to be sick, just to strike up some sort of conversation with Turvy. So right after he’d showered and gotten ready along with the other guys as they prepared to hit the bars in town one Friday night, he feigned feeling ill and stayed in. Once the campus was virtually empty, he made his way to the nurse’s office. While Turvy was always on call, he officially left campus by ten every night, which gave Aaron only a few minutes to catch him. His stomach sinking more and more as he reached the nurse’s office, he hoped Turvy had decided to leave early.

  But no such luck. When he stepped into the waiting room, Turvy was busily straightening magazines in a rack on the wall, wearing a very appropriate long white coat over his corduroys, button shirt, and tie.

  “What’s this?” Turvy said, his voice gruff and commanding. “A student who isn’t already boozing it up?”

  “Um. Hi, Professor Turvy. I’m not…feeling well,” Aaron said, really not feeling well at this point, so there was no acting involved. “I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

  “I can see that,” Turvy said. “You’re Aaron. Top back left corner of the lecture hall in my first class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “Yu-yeah,” Aaron stuttered, thinking, Damn. He noticed me.

  “Well, let’s step into the examining room and take a look at what ails you,” Turvy said, gesturing Aaron in with a short, stocky arm.

  To Aaron’s ears, it sounded like the door slammed shut. He distinctly heard the turn of a lock. He gulped.

  “Okay. Take off your clothes and climb up on the examining table on your hands and knees,” Turvy instructed. “You can leave your socks on so your feet don’t get cold.”

  “What?” Aaron asked, flashing wide, anxious eyes.

  “You said you’re not sure what’s wrong. So I’ll start at the most common problem spot. You know, so many of our emotional and physical pains can be traced back to the tension we hold in our rectum. I can tell just by examining a man’s anus if he is feeling anxiety, stress, happiness, guilt…”

  “I think it’s just my throat,” Aaron said.

  “Come on now. Don’t be shy. I’m a professional. I’ve dealt with plenty of assholes in my life,” Turvy said, patting the crinkly paper across the top of the examining table.

  Aaron’s heart was racing so hard he expected that Turvy would soon be treating him for a heart attack. He began to undress, painfully aware of the fact that he was getting an erection. He kicked off his shoes, then pulled off his shirt and pants, all the while hoping it would go down.

  “Come on,” Turvy said. “Undies, too. Don’t mean to rush you, but my final hour is up here and I haven’t eaten all day and I’d like to get some dinner.”

  Aaron went pale as he slowly pulled off his tighty whities. There was no hiding his grower when it was grown. He hurriedly climbed up on the table, hoping to keep it under wraps beneath him as he assumed the position.

  “Okay, now you just relax,” Turvy suggested as he slipped on an examining glove and grabbed a very sterile-looking white tube of lubricant. He walked fully around the table, taking in Aaron’s complete nakedness. He placed his ungloved hand on the small of Aaron’s back and pushed down. “Watch your posture. Just let your spine go limp. And your shoulders are hunching.”

  “Sorry,” Aaron croaked, trying to drop his shoulders as he rolled his head on its axis. He felt like he was in a fucking modeling class.

  “Very good,” Turvy crooned soothingly. “Okay, now you might feel something cold and then some pressure. I’m sure you know the drill.”

  Is he fucking with me? Aaron wondered, dropping his head, then seeing to his horror that a stream of precum was stretching from his dick head to the crinkly paper. He felt his ass cheeks being pulled apart—and heard Turvy let out a slight gasp.

  “What?” he asked self-consciously.

  “It’s fine,” Turvy assured him. “I’m going to assume you’re gay?”

  “Why?” Aaron squeezed his cheeks closed and tightened right back into his hunched position.

  Turvy was holding his gloved and ungloved hands up. “No judging. I’m just saying. It looks you’ve been running a logging business back here. Just want to advise that you make sure to use plenty of lubricant.”

  “Okay,” Aaron said as his face turned red. Did he really just compare my asshole to a sawmill?

  “Relax again. There, that’s good,” Turvy said, and there was a sound of squirting. “If you haven’t completely lost all sensitivity back here already, you’re going to feel some pressure. I want to check your prostate and such.”

  “Uuh!” Aaron let out a little bark as a lubricated finger slid swiftly up his ass and began to scoop around his inner walls.

  “Very tense,” Turvy said. “Is everything okay? You know, if you want to talk, I have a degree in psychology as well.” As if to prove it, he nodded his bald head at a bunch of framed diplomas on a wall.

  “It—it’s fine,” Aaron stammered, thinking now was not the best time to confess. He was relieved when he felt the finger slip out of him.

  “Now, just stay there,” Turvy said. “I wan
t to use a tool to get a look inside your rectum. Here, look. This is it. It’s like a clear tube. Even has a light so I can see where I’m going. Bigger than my finger, but I’m sure you’ll take it like a pro. In fact, I have a little something you can watch that should help distract you.”

  For the first time, Aaron noticed a monitor sitting on a counter in front of him as Turvy grabbed a small remote beside it and punched a button on it to ignite the screen. Then he circled back to Aaron’s rear with the tool.

  Is he going to film a found footage horror movie in my ass? Aaron was actually panicking at the thought even though his hole had become a star on fuckedfratboys dot com and even trended on all social media at some point. His anonymous ass deserved a fucking acting award.

  “Now breathe,” Turvy instructed.

  “Aaah,” Aaron grunted as the obtrusive object was shoved up his ass.

  “That hurt?” Turvy asked from behind him.

  “A little,” Aaron grunted, actually ashamed of himself, considering he had taken Lonny’s much bigger “tool” up his ass numerous times. There was just something unspeakably different about wanting it and expecting it than this kind of unsolicited invasion. He refocused on the monitor now that the image had fine-tuned itself. It took him a moment to realize that what he was actually looking at was this very room.

  “Looks pretty good in here,” Turvy said from behind him. “Looks like you’ve built up strong muscles to handle the abuse you put your rectum through.”

  “What is this?” Aaron asked, barely noticing the big tool shoved up his ass at the moment. On the screen, what originally looked like a still shot of the room came to life as several figures entered it.