Best Gay Erotica 2011 (13 page)

When it seemed to him that Sebastijan's dick was hard enough, Slavko gestured with his hand that now he would take it in his ass, and the boy lifted himself up lethargically, tugged his jeans down to the knees, so it was possible to see his muscular thighs with their sparse short black hairs and then knelt behind him and spread his legs apart, legs now hairless below the knees and adorned with blue veins, like the grooves on an ancient column that had collapsed under too much weight. Slavko inhaled some poppers from a little bottle, first in one nostril, then in the other, and felt he was as open as a book capable of receiving in itself all that was holy in this world. Sebastijan knelt behind this furry mass, which quivered like meat jelly, and the sharp bristles tingled the sensitive glans as he stuck his penis in the
chasm between Slavko's thighs. Slavko knew he'd have to help the boy find his way and spread open his rippling asscheeks with his hands, so that Sebastijan saw Slavko's cabbagey hole staring up at him, overgrown with matted hair and edged on one side by gnarled veins, like pork cracklings growing on a pig's butt, and on the other by scabbing from hemorrhoids wounded in his most recent shit. Sebastijan leaned on Slavko's back with his hands, looked up at the ceiling and took aim. Slavko let out a sneeze, blood trickled from his nose, and Sebastijan, glancing down at his cock, which had gone limp before it could penetrate anything, saw that it was smeared with blood.

“You didn't crush the coke enough! And you're not at all hard. Give me a sec, I'll be right back!”

When he returned from the bathroom, having wiped his nose and ass, Slavko handed a Viagra pill to Sebastijan, who downed it with whiskey; he didn't need one himself. The Viagra would be working in about half an hour, if the boy got even a little aroused, so Slavko started piling on the tenderness. He stripped him naked and was astounded by the boy's firm and well-proportioned body; although he was used to young guys, he had never felt toward anyone an attraction of this magnitude. He laid Sebastijan on his back and applied all his arts: a combination of erotic massage, acupuncture, chiropractic and other spiritualities he had learned from self-help books. Every muscle on the boy's abdomen was perfectly formed; his clean-shaven pectorals were still well defined, and Slavko bit one of the nipples a little too hard on purpose just to hear his voice, for he was lying beneath him as if dead. A full-body tongue massage can reveal new erogenous zones, and straight guys get turned on when you lick their asses, so Slavko lifted up Sebastijan's legs—the boy was so flexible he could have done a full split in the air—and moved his tongue closer to the solid, clean-shaven pink butt,
which might have broken his nose had the boy clenched it. The anus, so tightly shut it was barely visible, had a slightly sweet taste from the Chanel Allure Sport cologne the boy had scented it with, since geezers were always trying to stick their tongues up there. By tongue-massaging the sphincter, Slavko got Sebastijan's dick to stand up again; then he squatted over him as if to sit on him—but when he spread his asscheeks with his hands so the boy could enter, the inflatable dragon instantly deflated. He saw that it wasn't going to work and got himself ready to fuck Sebastijan instead, since his own dick was still so hard it hurt. Raising Sebastijan's martial-arts legs, he brought his crooked hard-on right up to the boy's blossom so as to penetrate that open-sesame cave. He aimed his dick, solid as a rock, right at the navel of the world, but he couldn't get it in, even though it was a lot smaller than Sebastijan's.

“Have some poppers; it'll make it easier!” He held the little bottle up to one of Sebastijan's nostrils and closed the other with his hand. And when the boy had inhaled the fumes of the liquid, which smelled like glue, he repeated the procedure with the second nostril. Then he lifted Sebastijan's ass a little off the floor and got his dick's pointy knob to go inside, but Sebastijan pushed it out with a yelp.

“Have some more poppers and it won't hurt! Here, take a big whiff!”

Sebastijan was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He took a deep whiff of the poppers, a few times in each nostril, and seemed to be lying there completely open, when all at once his body tightened in a convulsion; he gripped his chest and looked straight at Slavko with wide-open eyes. Slavko was terrified for a moment, but then he lay down next to the boy and started caressing him, warming him with the heat of his own ample body.

When he woke up in the morning, Sebastijan was still lying next to him, his open lips proffering an intimate kiss, his cock hard if no longer warm—and now it did not go limp at the sight of Slavko's withered blossom but satisfied him to the full. After a shared breakfast, Slavko went out and bought the biggest freezer he could find.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If David had told Gary that he fucked his own little brother, Gary would have been surprised as well as titillated. But what he actually told him, beginning in the bar of the White Horse and ending up sitting on the bank of the River Cherwell in the autumn dusk, surprised and titillated him even more. David's little brother Mark, now sixteen, actually fucked David, or had done when he was younger, though they hadn't done it in the last year or so. By the time David had told Gary how this had come about (which, unfortunately, there isn't space to detail here), they were both mightily excited and were obliged to unzip each other where they sat and give their substantial cocks relief with crossed hands. Inevitably they both spunked
heavily over their jeans and were glad of the oncoming darkness when they walked back to college, saying hallo in the streets to other students whom they knew but who—with luck—would not notice in the gloom the still wet stains on their denims. They had been spotted on the riverbank, however, by the mysterious blond twins, who had walked by on the other side of the water and hailed them with a wave—but they weren't sure what, if anything, the twins had actually seen.

Gary and David had only been at Oxford for a couple of weeks. Both freshmen, aged eighteen, they had clicked at once, fallen for each other, and were now almost as inseparable as the blond twins, especially at bedtime. (The twins' bedtime habits were unknown.) Now back in David's room and getting ready for David's narrow bed, Gary said, “Your brother sounds a character. I'd like to meet him sometime.”

“Did I forget to tell you?” David answered. “Mark's got an interview here in two weeks' time; he's hoping for a place next year. He'll be coming up for a couple of nights. You'll get to meet him then.”

But before that could happen David left Oxford (and Gary) to spend a weekend at home: it was his father's birthday, and he felt he couldn't not go, since it coincided with a weekend. “You'll have to find someone else to play with while I'm away,” he told Gary. “Though I can't immediately imagine who.” They had talked a bit about who among their fellow students might be gay or at any rate up for having sex with other boys but had drawn no definite conclusions.

“I'm sure I'll find someone,” Gary assured him good humoredly. “You, no doubt, will be having it away with baby brother Mark while you're at home.”

“Shouldn't be a bit surprised,” David answered with a little smile.

In the end it was not that Gary found someone, but that someone found Gary. He was sitting alone in the Junior Common Room bar on the Friday evening, when he was joined by a petite and pretty young man with cheeky dark eyes and a mop of thick, black curls. They'd met a few times during Freshers' Week, and Gary remembered that his name was Rob. He had not forgotten that he'd thought him decidedly attractive, before his attention had been so comprehensively distracted by the arrival of David.

The diminutive Rob turned out to have a diminutive cock as well, sweet and dainty, with a tiny foreskin, and it was furnished with a solitary ball, quail's egg sized. It had a habit, Gary discovered, of coming prematurely and unexpectedly, without needing the coaxing of anyone's hand, as soon as Rob got undressed for sex. This distressed and embarrassed the inexperienced Rob at first, but Gary, discovering that Rob was very quickly able to recover himself and shoot a further milky load in more controlled circumstances just minutes later, was able to reassure him and calm his anxieties. All that, Gary said, was just fine. When, on the Saturday, Rob first penetrated Gary with his rapid-reaction little penis, it tickled Gary like a finger-fuck, but it made Gary spout his own spring of sperm pretty quickly all the same. The two of them got on famously and stayed together—mostly in Gary's bed—for the whole weekend.

Rob finally left Gary's room toward the end of Sunday afternoon. “I know you said David won't mind, and that he told you to find someone else for the weekend,” Rob said. “But I'm sure he'd prefer not to come back and find that someone actually in your bed. Even if he has been rogering his own brother all weekend. As you tell me he does.”

“I told you his brother rogers him.” Gary was anxious to set the record straight. “Or used to do. He's never fucked his
brother, apparently. Mind you, that was before this weekend. Things may have changed. He'd never fucked anyone before he fucked me at the beginning of term.”

Before Rob finally left, Gary told him, “We'll have a return match sometime soon. Maybe David might like to stick his oar in too…metaphorically speaking.”

 

On his return, David wanted to hear all of Gary's adventures—if he'd had any. And Gary regaled him with the story of his weekend and Rob's. David sounded more than a bit interested in future possibilities with Rob, but he glanced rather doubtfully at Gary's single bed. It was cozy enough for two, he thought, but he rather wondered whether it would comfortably accommodate three.

“Rob's very small,” Gary reminded him optimistically. “Anyway, what about you?”

A grin spread all the way from David's left ear to his right. “I evened up the score at last,” he said. “I fucked my little brother.”

 

In less than a week that famous little brother was in Oxford for his interview. He arrived in the afternoon of the day before, and was promptly shown to one of the spare bedrooms that interview candidates were usually given. (Something that both Gary and David remembered from the year before.) After that he was taken to meet Gary. “You two are so alike!” was the first thing Mark blurted out after they had shaken hands. “David never told me. You might be cousins. Or, if your hair wasn't different colors, almost twins.”

Gary, in his turn, was as surprised by Mark's appearance as Mark had been by his. Where David was a little more than medium height and of a slim if muscular build, Mark was rather short and stocky. But if small, he gave the appearance of being
pretty strong. His face was round and open, his eyes blue and wide and friendly. He had a small snub nose. He was wearing the top part of his school uniform: blazer, shirt and a tie, which was loose at the neck. It was a bit of a compromise though. Below, he had on tight blue jeans which neatly hugged his sturdy thighs and calves, and he wore trainers on his feet. He looked like a cross between a real schoolboy and a rent boy whose gambit is to dress like one. More than anything else though, the kid oozed sex appeal from every pore.

“Wow,” said Gary, forgetting his manners in his surprise. “You look good, kid. David forgot to tell me what a handsome boy you are.”