I heard them talking in the living room of the short-term rental apartment near Long Beach that my tutor and I had been sent to when my parent’s Malibu house was threatened by a brush fire. I really wanted to go to the ranch in the Moreno Valley, but I was told that hadn’t been opened up for the seasons yet. Both of my parents--my mother and self-stepfather--had been off filming and weren’t expected back until later this week. Maybe Roger, my tutor, would be able to take me there tomorrow.
But for tonight, he’d sent me to bed early, saying he had to go out for a while and that I should be asleep before he got back.
When he came back, though, he wasn’t alone. The other man sounded like Jack, one of the ranch hands at the Moreno Valley Ranch. Roger didn’t think I knew what he and Jack were doing--he thought I was just a protected, naïve fourteen-year-old kid. But I knew what they were doing. I’d known for some time that I wanted to do it too. And I wanted it from Jack as much as I knew Roger was getting it from Jack.
Jack was a real he-man--tall and muscular. Dark. I think he had some Mexican in him. But he was all man. Except that he liked to do it with men. I was pretty sure he’d like to do it with me too. When I was at the ranch, he’d give me looks--and I’d give them back. Roger, laughing, told me I wasn’t too young to have these feelings but I was too young to actually do anything about them. The looks Jack and I exchanged were pretty much the same looks that Roger gave Jack at the ranch.
But Jack wasn’t at the ranch tonight. He was here, in the apartment hotel, with Roger in the living room. They were drinking and every once in a while they’d get quiet and I knew I could hear Roger moaning. Then they moved to Roger’s bedroom and there was more moaning. And other sounds too. There was muffled thumping against the wall. I knew they must be on the bed and making the bed move, making the headboard rub against the wall--making sex that two men made together.
I couldn’t sleep. I felt strange, sensations that I increasing was become aware were sexual arousal. I was fourteen, but I was changing. I was becoming increasingly aware of myself. I knew I could make my dick big and to throb and to come. It was big and throbbing now. And I knew I wanted to do it with men--with men, not other boys--and that I wanted men to do it to me.
I got out of my bed and went out into the hall. The door to Roger’s bedroom was only half closed. I went to it and peeked in. As I had thought, Roger and Jack were on the bed. Jack was on top of Roger, fucking him. I knew what fucking was, and I knew what it looked like. Roger thought he hid his videos well, but I’d found them and found opportunities to watch them. Both Jack and Roger were naked. Roger looked small and boyish under Jack, who was large and muscular.
I couldn’t help but watch them, doing in real life what I’d seen on the screen. It was mesmerizing. I was just in my sleeping shorts, but my dick was engorged and was jutting out of my fly. I took it in my hand without thinking, and when I pulled on it, I had pleasurable feelings and felt the juices in me rising. And then I realized that, although Jack was on top of Roger, fucking him, Jack’s face was turned to me. He was looking at me and smiling. I turned and ran back to my room, climbed in bed, and turned my face to the wall.
I went to sleep, so I don’t know how long it was before he came for me, but I woke to Jack getting in my bed with me. He was still naked, and his dick was big and hard. He’d brought a belt with him and a scarf. He gagged me with the scarf and he tied my wrists together behind my back with the belt. I didn’t struggle with him; I just lay there, watching him with big eyes, and letting him do it.
I was both scared and aroused. He wasn’t doing anything that I hadn’t long wanted to be done. I wanted a man, like Jack, to do this to me and to get over with it--this not doing it yet was overwhelming me, becoming an obsession of “get it over with.”
I’d begged Roger to do it, but he’d just laughed and said that there would be no use because we both wanted the same thing from another man--and that he’d be fired in an instant by my parents. When I threatened to tell my self-stepfather that he’d done it to me anyway if he didn’t give me what I wanted and needed, he’d laughed and said something about hypocrisy and that everyone in Hollywood was doing it. He went on to say that I was only fourteen and not everyone who was fourteen was doing it by any means. He did say he understood and that if he was still around when I was eighteen, he’d help me get it done.
What he did do, though, was that sometimes he’d come into my bedroom at night and hold me and pet me. And sometimes, holding me close, he’d hold my dick in his fist and beat me off so that the sexual tension of need flowed out of me. When he’d done that, though, he made me agree that I wouldn’t tell anyone that he’d done it. I was to pretend nothing at all had been done for me. I agreed. Both of my parents were actors. I could act innocent too if that would keep us out of trouble--and if Roger would continue to beat me off when I really needed it.
He didn’t let me beat him off, though--not yet. “Not until you’re older,” he said. I wouldn’t let me do it even though I knew he moaned for it too now and then. And when it really got bad for him, he go out and bring a guy home to beat him off--and more. Like he’d gone to the ranch and brought Jack back tonight. When I begged Roger to do more, he’d just say that we were too much alike and I was only fourteen.
But I was only fourteen now, tonight, and Jack was in bed with me now, getting it done now.
He had his face in my crack and was slobbering all over it and then he had fingers up in there while he was jacking my dick with the other hand. I was writhing under his attentions, it feeling really strange, making me really hard and wanting to come in having another guy doing it, not just myself. And it was different that Jack was doing it from when Roger did it. With Roger, I knew that was all there was going to be. But, with Jack, I knew it was going to be more. He whispered to me that it was going to be more. And the more he said he was going to do with me, to me, was enough to have me leaking and ready to blow.
I wanted him to do it, though, so I didn’t fight him. And if he’d taken the gag off and untied me, I would have lain there and taken it anyway. I had wanted this to be over and done with for some time.
If I hadn’t had the gag in, though, I know I would have screamed out from the pain and surprise of it when he stuck it in me--and Roger would have come running. There’s nothing Roger could have done to Jack about it, though. Jack was a strong, seasoned ranch hand, and Roger was just a soft teacher. But then Roger would have known. I wanted it done, but I didn’t necessarily, at fourteen, want Roger--and certainly my parents--to know I no longer was a virgin.
And I most definitely no longer was a virgin. Jack was on top of me, covering my back, and was breathing heavily in my ear. That big dick of his was inside me, moving deeper as I opened to him. It hurt like hell, but I knew that the more I let a dick inside me, the less it would hurt the next time and that there must be pleasure in it--and a satisfaction that would make me feel sexy too and to come.
I felt totally stuffed. I thought he had the world’s biggest dick. I later was to find he was just average, but I’d never been so filled and stretched before, even when I needed to take a bigger dump than my passage wanted to pass. But the thought that there was a man inside me because he couldn’t help it--that I turned him on enough to make him have to be inside me--turned me on too. All my thoughts went to that big club inside me, throbbing and moving, and his big, calloused hands moving all over my body, even though it hurt like mad, I knew I wanted to have this feeling of being wanted and having power over a man like this again and again and again.
So, I took it. I lay there and took Jack pushing his hard dick up inside me and moving it in and out and his hands feeling all over me, his murmurs of “Nice, baby, open to me, baby,” and his lips kissing me in the hollow of my throat and on my chest--him feeling up my nipples and pinching them and kissing them and all the time his dick was moving in and out inside me, until I felt the juice rising in me and couldn’t help but exploding. And then he tensed and jerked and came inside me too.
And so now I had been fucked for the first time.
He was whispering in my ear, “If you’ll be quiet, I’ll take the gag off and untie you. If yes, nod your head.”
I nodded my head. He freed me, and I just laid there looking at him with wide-open eyes and panting hard.
“You gonna be OK?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “It’s OK. I wanted it,” I said.
“That wasn’t your first time, was it?” he asked. “You’ve been flouncing around and making eyes at me, so I knew you wanted me to fuck you. Right?”
“Uh, right,” I answered. He didn’t press the question about it being the first time, so I just didn’t let him know that it was.
“We don’t have to tell anyone about this, though, do we?” he asked. “You were nice and tight, by the way. A really nice lay.”
“I won’t tell anybody if you don’t,” I said. “It hurt a little bit, but I wanted it. And I wanted it from you.”
“I thought so.” He looked pleased. “You’re a sweet kid,” he said. “I wish, well...”
.... There is more of this story ...
Fa/Fa / Ma/Ma / Ma/mt / Consensual / Gay / Lesbian / Fiction / Crime / Mystery / Incest / Son / Father / BDSM / DomSub / MaleDom / Light Bond / Rough / Interracial / Black Male / White Male / Anal Sex / Double Penetration / First / Masturbation / Oral Sex / Sex Toys / Voyeurism / Size /