My Farewell Fuck (M/M, t/b, M/t, [other combos], oral, anal, ws,
scat)
by Coproman

Hunter Martin: 6'2, 190 pounds, black, light-skinned, handsome. 
Also, my neighbor, my student, my teacher, my homie, my lover. 
For fifteen years.  Ever since he was 4'2, 49 pounds and I was
5'10, 150 pounds.

Now he was about to turn 21 and about to move on, all the way
across the country.  I had promised him that I would book a hotel
room for him and his new boyfriend for his birthday.  It was a
contingency gift, though, because I told him that I would only do
it if he promised to christen the room--and the bed--by doing me
first since, if everything went as planned, it would amount to
our farewell fuck.  Smiling what had become his signature
lopsided smile, he agreed to do it but said he would not cum in
me because he wanted to have a big load for his boyfriend.  I was
disappointed but understood.

So now, the day before Hunter and his boyfriend would take over
this room, here he stood before me, beautifully buck naked, his
eight-inch erection looking both menacing and enticing as it
wagged up and down, leaking pre-cum.

"Come on, Kev, let's go," said Hunter.  "I got other shit to do
today."

Hunter was never all that keen on having his dick sucked per se,
but he'd tolerate it if was in preparation for fucking.  So I got
the chance to swallow his sword for a few minutes, making sure to
bathe it in plenty of spit.  Once it was well-lubed, I pulled it
out of my mouth and gave it a little kiss on the tip, looking up
and smiling at Hunter afterwards.  Then I turned around,
surrendering my ass to him.

Hunter gave me exactly what I wanted--several times, in fact,
starting out on the bed then moving to the easy chair, the floor,
the table top, and back to the bed.  But every time he felt an
orgasm coming, he backed off, slowing down his strokes until it
receded.  I knew all that edging would lead to his building up a
humongous load, and, yeah, I was a little jealous that his
boyfriend would get what Hunter had accumulated by fucking me.

That's why I was totally surprised when, during that last
go-round, with my arms around Hunter's neck and my legs on his
shoulders as he fucked me face-to-face, he began to speed up,
slamming into me, ravaging my rectum, grunting louder and louder,
sweating all over me--all the signs I'd come to recognize over
the years that told me that he was about to--

"Oh, fuck!  I'm cumming!  Take it right up your fuckin' ass,
bitch!"

Right away I felt the familiar throbbing in my rectum followed by
a larger-than-usual rush of wet warmth in my bowels.  Just
knowing that I, and not the new boyfriend, was the recipient of
the fruits of Hunter's labor made me feel so contented, so
special, that I came without even touching myself, spurting a big
slimy load all over my chest and stomach.

Afterwards we both lay there quietly recovering.  After a while,
though, I just had to know:

"I thought you were saving it for your boyfriend."

Hunter smiled.  "Well, at least for right now, YOU'RE my
boyfriend."

I smiled back, gave him a peck on the lips, and drifted into
daydreaming as I recalled our very first encounter....

* * * * * * * * * *

At the time I was seventeen years old, a high school senior, and
had just broken up with my girlfriend of six months.  Hunter, on
the other hand, was all of six years old and had just started
grade school.  He was light-skinned; I was dark-skinned.  We
lived next door to each other on the top floor of a five-floor
tenement in the South Bronx.  The only things we had in common
were that we were both boys, both only children, and both being
raised by single parents.  Other than that, there was no reason
for our life paths to cross.  But our moms were friends, and I
needed money at the time, so babysitting was our bridge.

The problem was that, like most seventeen-year-olds, I was
perpetually horny, and with no more girlfriend to help me relieve
my blue balls, it was either a matter of jacking off a lot or
finding someone new.  But I hated the idea of wasting my seed by
masturbating ten times a day, making Kleenex and Charmin even
richer; and finding someone new, at least for me, wasn't easy,
being that I was shy and nerdy, so what was the alternative?

Before I go on, let me say that I DID not and DO not consider
myself a pedophile.  Had a cute teenaged girl fallen into my lap
at that time, I'd gladly have skipped the babysitting, borrowed
whatever money I needed from my mom, and satisfied my sexual
urges with the pussy at hand.  But Hunter had already been
"primed" for hooking up, meaning someone, probably his mother's
boyfriend, had already introduced him to the pleasures of
prepubescent sex.  Now whoever-it-was was no longer in the
picture, and Hunter was eager for a new playmate.

How did I know?  Well, when you babysit someone for the very
first time and two seconds after his mom leaves the house, he
asks if he can suck your dick, it kinda gives you a clue.

"Where'd you learn about stuff like that?" I asked, obviously
shocked that something so vulgar had come out of his six-year-old
mouth.

That was the first time I saw him smile his now-familiar lopsided
smile.  "I promised not to tell," he said.  "But he said sperms
was good for little boys 'cause they make them grow up to be big
and strong.  And I wanna be big and strong.  So will you give me
yours?"

This was, of course, an early turning point in our relationship:
I could take the high road by telling Hunter that whoever had
told him that had lied, that it was wrong for a little boy to
suck a man's penis, and that drinking sperm wouldn't make him
grow any bigger or stronger; then I'd explain to him about "good
touch" vs. "bad touch," and that if anyone did anything like that
to him again, he should tell his mom; finally I would tell my own
mom about it, so she could speak to his mom about being more
careful who she left Hunter with.

Or I could opt to take the low road by saying nothing to
straighten Hunter out, since he had already been sexually
assaulted, and there was no getting the genie back in the bottle;
in other words, he had developed a hunger for sex, and no matter
what I said, he would continue to crave it; so if it wasn't me,
it would be the next male babysitter and the next until Hunter
was able to satisfy that craving.

So with my teenaged hormones raging, my dick sitting hard and
ready in my jeans, and Hunter standing ready and willing in front
of me, you can imagine which road I took.

"Sure," I finally said, smiling as I rubbed Hunter's head.  "You
can have my sperm.  But I wanna do it the same way you did it
with that other person, okay?"

"Okay," Hunter said brightly.

Right away the six-year-old walked over and started fiddling with
my belt until he managed to unbuckle it.  Then he expertly
unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the zipper, and began tugging on
them until they dropped to the floor.  Then he grabbed the
elastic band of my boxers and pulled them down as well.  When my
fully erect penis popped into view, Hunter smiled like it was
Christmas morning and he'd just opened his favorite present.  But
instead of diving in, he kept nudging me, forcing me back until I
bumped into the sofa and plopped down on it.  Two seconds later
Hunter was all over me, or at least his lips were, sliding up and
down my pole while I clasped the back of his head.

"Yeah, suck that dick, boy!"

And did he ever!  Holding on tightly to the base of my cock,
Hunter proceeded to give me one of the best blow jobs I'd ever
had.  To my astonishment, he even moved his hand and
deep-throated me a few times, burying his nose in my pubic hair,
and never once did he even come close to gagging.  I had to thank
that unknown person for training the six-year-old so well.
I was hoping that this wonderful experience would last a little
longer than it did, but Hunter made that impossible when he took
his free hand and began to massage my balls.  I mean, there's
only so much a horny teenager can take.

"Fuck!  I'm cumming!" I yelled, lifting my hips and pulling
against the back of Hunter's head, burying my cock in his throat.
 "Drink my fuckin' cum, boy!  Swallow it ALL!"

It had been almost 24 hours since I'd jacked off, so my teenaged
balls had cooked up a big fresh batch of baby batter, and here I
was force-feeding it to a first-grader!  If that wasn't hard
enough to believe, what was even harder was the way Hunter gulped
down every gooey drop of it, even snuffling up the tiny streams
that were about to drip out of his nose.

My babysitting Hunter increased dramatically after that and, of
course, I was more than happy to feed the six-year-old my sperm
every time.  But given the limited number of things we did, which
mostly involved Hunter sucking my cock from a number of different
positions and my cumming either down his throat or in his face
(after which he'd scoop it off and eat it), I figured that
whoever had trained him must have been interested primarily in
oral sex.  That was fine, but there was obviously much more to
being a boy toy than that, and I felt an obligation to continue
Hunter's training....

* * * * * * * * * *

My trip down memory lane ended when Hunter pulled his dick out of
my ass.  As usual it exited with a squishy little "pop," leaving
me deflated as a rush of cool air took its place.  Hunter moved
back, taking my legs off his shoulders but pushing my thighs
towards my chest, so that my ass remained up in the air.  He then
bent down to get a better look at my asshole.

"Go ahead.  Push that shit out," he said.  "I told you I got
other shit to do today."

Giving him a wry smile, I flexed my sphincter, causing my pucker
to kiss at him, and two seconds later I felt something warm and
slimy drooling out of my anus and into my ass crack.

"Oooooo!" Hunter cooed, grinning.  "That's a big fuckin' load in
there."

"I'm just glad you decided to give it to ME instead of
you-know-who," I said, flexing again to eject more of his spunk.

Giving me his signature smile, Hunter said, "You didn't REALLY
think I was gonna fuck you up, down, and sideways then give it to
somebody else, did you?"

"Actually I did," I admitted.  "You've been talking so much
lately about how you did THIS with Diego and THAT with Diego and
how Diego is SO smart and SO funny, I thought you couldn't wait
to pump his Puerto Rican rump full of cum."

Still smiling, Hunter considered what I'd said for a moment then
said, "Nah, I wouldn't do that to you.  We been together too
long.  Besides, I wanted to make sure I gave you this last time
the same thing you gave me the first time you fucked my ass. 
Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember.  I'm just surprised YOU do," I said as
Hunter's cum continued to ooze out of my bowels and began to pool
under my ass cheeks.  In fact, I remembered it all too well....

* * * * * * * * * *

That phase of our relationship started when I compounded the
initial lie Hunter had been told by telling him that he would
grow up to be even bigger and stronger if he swallowed sperm
"from both ends."  He looked totally confused when I said that,
so I explained to him that taking it down his throat would help
the top half of his body grow bigger, but taking it up the ass
would make the bottom half grow bigger too, and how he really
needed to do both "for balance."  But after that he looked
scared.

"You mean, somebody gotta stick they dick in my butt TOO for me
to grow up big and strong?  But that's gonna HURT!"

"Relax," I said, trying to calm him down as tears welled up in
his big brown eyes.  "I'm gonna help get you ready back there, so
when you do it, you won't feel a thing, okay?"

I could tell by the look on Hunter's face that he was still
skeptical, but he trusted me, so he gave a quick nod and mumbled
"okay."

And I did as promised, lubing up Hunter's tight little boy-hole
with Vaseline and gently sliding my middle finger in and out of
him every time he sucked my dick.  Over time he was easily able
to take two fingers, complaining a little when I rotated those
fingers in his rectum, and wincing only when, a few sessions
later, I tried to introduce a third finger.  By then he was well
over seven years old, and though his boy-hole was still tight, I
could now stretch it open more than an inch without causing him
any pain.

"It's time," I said the next time I babysat Hunter.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said confidently.

We were both right.  It WAS time and Hunter WAS ready, as he
bravely took all six inches of my super-hard cock up his tight
little ass without shedding one tear.  Sure there was a lot of
grunting and groaning and an occasional gasp, especially when I
started fucking him.  But I kept reminding him how it was all for
his benefit, so he would grow up to be a big strong teenager, so
taking his anal cherry was as awesome as awesome could be.

Naturally it didn't take very long for me to baptize his virgin
bowels with a flood of cum, a five-day load that I had been
patiently saving up solely for this occasion; and it was a
tremendous turn-on just knowing that hundreds of millions of my
sperm were swimming up his seven-year-old shithole, only to turn
around and swim right back out again when it became apparent that
there was no egg in there to fertilize.  (Fortunately I was
scheduled to be with Hunter all day, so when my phalanx of little
swimmers finally made their return trip downstream, his mom would
never get to see the big wet starchy stain they left in the seat
of his underpants.)

Anyway, fucking became part of our babysitting routine, though we
didn't do it every time, as we alternated between it and the dick
sucking.  I didn't want to wear Hunter's asshole out by making it
LOOK like it was regularly swallowing six inches of hard teenaged
dick.  After all, either his mother or his doctor or somebody
else who had a legitimate reason for checking him out back there
might notice that his "round eye" had become more oval than
round, and a discovery like that would not necessarily be a good
one for either of us.

Pretty soon Hunter was not only eagerly participating in our fuck
sessions but initiating them by suggesting different places we
could do it then flirting with me, as only a cute little boy can,
on the way there.  By the time we got wherever we were going, I
was so horny that I was ready to fuck his brains out.  I ended up
banging his little booty in abandoned cars, on barren rooftops,
in pissy public bathroom stalls, even in secluded parts of St.
Mary's Park, among other places.  And the idea that we might get
caught at any moment only heightened our enjoyment.

However, not long after Hunter turned ten, it occurred to him
that he was being exploited, and he demanded that I suck HIS dick
and that HE fuck MY ass.  Well, what could I say?  My little fuck
buddy was right, and since, at 21, I was beginning to feel more
bottom than top, he couldn't have approached me at a better time.
 So I started sucking his three-inch pecker and letting him poke
it in my poop chute; and it was good but also funny hearing him
mimic me by saying how he had a "big load" for me and how he was
going to give it to me either "down your fuckin' throat" or "up
your fuckin' ass," being that he could not yet produce cum and
his "loads" all consisted of dry orgasms.  Nevertheless I enjoyed
the way he pistoned his slender little rod in my mouth and ass
and how it throbbed when he climaxed.

Not too long afterward I discovered a nasty little move called
ass-to-mouth, and I was eager to incorporate it into our trysts.
But even at seven, Hunter was a clean freak, so I knew how
difficult it would be to get him to suck my dick right after I
pulled it out of his ass.  If it had a speck of shit on it, I
knew he'd go through all kinds of contortions before putting it
in his mouth.  On top of that, he'd probably insist, from that
point on, on thoroughly washing himself before we had sex, and I
certainly didn't want that.

So ass-to-mouth turned out to be the first thing I did for Hunter
that he didn't also have to do for me, not that he still didn't
complain about it.  As I gradually developed an appetite not only
for bottomness but filth as well, I would deliberately leave my
asshole dirty, knowing that Hunter had this thing about getting
shit on his dick.  So after he fucked me and pulled out, I would
usually hear, "Shit, Kev!  Don't you know how to use toilet
paper?!"

Hearing the seven-year-old say this not only made me laugh but
also turned me on like crazy because I knew his supposed distress
was temporary at best.  The minute I started sucking his stinky
little shit-stained weiner, he always calmed right down again....

* * * * * * * * * *

"Yeah, suck that dick, bitch!" said Hunter, once again waking me
up from my reminiscing.  "I want it nice and clean when I put it
in Diego."

Even flaccid, Hunter's dick was no longer the pricklet it used to
be, so it took much longer to tongue-wash it, especially since,
as usual, I'd brought him a dirty hole to plow; and it took even
longer when he could no longer hold his bladder and let go with a
stream of hot piss down my throat, catching me off guard; but I
quickly caught up to the flow and swallowed it fairly easily.

"Shit, I'm gonna miss goin' to the bathroom like this without
gettin' outta bed," said Hunter, continuing to pee.

Since I was still busy drinking it, I didn't respond, but since
he'd brought up the bathroom-in-bed subject, I figured it was the
perfect opportunity to segue into something Hunter was less keen
on discussing.  So after lapping up the final few drops of his
piss, I pulled Hunter's cock out of my mouth and looked up at him
with pleading eyes.

"Hey, Hunter, before I leave, will you...ummm...do me a favor?"

"What?" he asked, immediately suspicious.

"Do 'it' for me again?"

"You mean--"

"Yeah, that."

He frowned.  "But you know how much I hate that."

"You didn't used to have a problem with it."

"I know, but..."

"So do you have to go now?" I quickly asked, pressing him.

"Yeah.  Matter of fact, I was gonna go right after you left."

"So why don't you just go ahead and go now.  What?  You saving it
for Diego?"

"Ewwwwww!" Hunter responded, chuckling while pretending to be
offended.  "HELL no!  He's not into freaky shit like that!  And
you better not ever tell him I was!"

"So do it one last time,"  I said.  "For old time's sake.  For
me.  Please?"

Rolling his eyes, Hunter said, "Ooh...okay.  But this is
absolutely the last time."

I'd heard that before.  The last three times we'd done it had all
been "absolutely the last time," but despite Hunter's protests, I
knew there was something about it he liked.  If nothing else
because it gave ME so much pleasure.  So I stretched out on my
back on the floor and Hunter squatted over my face, making sure
to ask "You see it?" as his anus opened up and the tip of a
light-brown turd appeared....

* * * * * * * * * *

I didn't always have to beg for it.  In the beginning Hunter had
absolutely no reservations about doing it.  In fact, the very
first time I told him how I wanted him to take a shit in my
mouth, his eyes lit up and he was smiling all over his face.  The
idea that I wanted to "eat my doo-doo like a big hotdog," to use
his words, thrilled him; and as I lay in his bathtub staring up
at his little light-skinned hiney and his puckering anus, I was
equally thrilled.

At the time I knew nothing about being a scat bottom or being fed
directly from a shitting asshole.  All I had to go by was what
I'd seen on some scat web sites, and I had no idea how edited or
faked those scenes were.  But Hunter made it easy for me by
shitting out a load more creamy than stiff that first time, so I
was able to swallow it without much chewing.  Also, being that he
was only six, Hunter's body held a lot less than an adult load,
so I was able to handle his whole bowel movement.

As soon as Hunter was done, he stood up, turned around, and,
frowning severely, stared down at me as I ate the last mouthful
of his shit.  I put on as much of a show for him as I could,
chewing with my mouth open, gulping everything down, then opening
my mouth wide and sticking out my brown tongue to show him that
what had been in his bowels was now in my belly.  This caused
Hunter's face to squinch up even more, as if he were on the verge
of barfing, and this pleased me to no end.  After all, wasn't he
supposed to be disgusted by seeing me do something so disgusting?

After an awkwardly long silence, Hunter asked me, "So how it
taste?"

I wanted to answer him right away, but my stomach suddenly
lurched, and I knew if I made a move to say even one word, I
might throw up everything I'd just swallowed and ruin the whole
experience.  So I held up my finger to him and waited for the
nausea to pass before speaking.

"Strange," I finally croaked out.

"So you LIKED it?"

Instead of answering this time, I motioned for Hunter to turn
back around and squat over my face again.  He did so, and I held
his little hiney in place while licking the leftover shit out of
his asshole.  By the time I was done, my stomach had calmed down,
and I knew that from then on, I would have no trouble holding
down anything Hunter fed me out of his cute little shitter.

And so it was, not every time I babysat for him, since he didn't
always have to go while I was there, but often enough to keep it
special.  Over the years, I became a shit connoisseur, at least
when it came to Hunter's bowel movements, savoring the
consistency of them--sometimes firmer, sometimes softer--as well
as their subtleties, as I negotiated which of them I needed to
chew up and which could be easily swallowed.  I could also pretty
much tell what Hunter had eaten by the way his turds smelled and
tasted.  And the older Hunter got, the more I tested the limits
of my stomach's elasticity, as the volume of his shit steadily
increased and I resolved to eat every crumb of what he fed me. 
Making this effort alone spiked my overall horniness.  But what
probably turned me on the most, believe it or not, was living
that personal contradiction, that public/private hypocrisy: There
was just something SO deliciously dirty about conducting a
colloquium at college in the morning and serving as a
ten-year-old's toilet in the afternoon.

All was well until Hunter turned twelve and started going through
puberty. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he was self-conscious about
the way his shit smelled and afraid of what might happen if I got
sick.  Though it often took some doing, I always managed to quell
his fears, telling him that his shit smelled "fresh" and that
nothing that came out of his healthy body could possibly make me
sick.

But one day, when he was thirteen, I realized that he was farting
excessively and asked him if he had to go.

"Yes," Hunter said curtly, not looking at me.

But when I asked him if he would give it to me, he looked annoyed
and shouted "No!" after which he ran into the bathroom and locked
the door.

At first I thought he was just playing hard-to-get, but as I
stood by the door trying to persuade him to let me in, I heard
more farting, only echoed this time, and I knew he was sitting on
the toilet.  This was followed by a series of muffled splashes,
as Hunter dropped his load in that big white porcelain mouth
instead of mine.  After he was done, I thought maybe he'd save it
for me, but when I heard the toilet flush, I knew that particular
defecation was lost forever.

By the time Hunter came out of the bathroom, I had returned to
the living room and was sitting on the sofa watching TV, totally
ignoring his reappearance.  He called me a couple of times from
the doorway, but I pretended not to hear him.  Finally he said,
"I'm sorry."  That's when I looked up.

"So why didn't you let me eat it?"

"'Cause."

"'Cause what?"

"'Cause it's MINE," he declared.  "I don't have to let you eat it
if I don't want to.  And  besides," he added, "you shouldn't even
BE here.  I'm thirteen.  I don't need no fuckin' babysitter!"

So THAT was it.  Hunter was not only asserting his independence
by refusing to indulge me, he was also doing so by making it
clear that he could be responsible without supervision.  Finding
it hard to stay pissed off at him after that, I just shrugged.

"Well, that's something you need to discuss with your mom," I
said.  "I know they can be clingy--especially single moms, like
yours and mine--but they just want to make sure we're safe."

Having said that, I could tell by Hunter's expression that he was
feeling guilty for acting the way he had.  Then that half-smile
of his slowly found its way to his face.

"I didn't wipe so good," he offered, "so you can have what's
left, if you want."

I smiled back.  "It would be my pleasure, sir."

With that, Hunter turned away from me, unbuckled his belt, pushed
his jeans and underwear down to his knees, and bent over.  I
knelt down behind him, spread his light-skinned cheeks apart, and
was pleased to see tiny brown lumps clinging to the folds of his
anus.  I proceeded to feast on the smelly snack he'd left me,
making sure to search for more leftovers by digging my tongue as
far up his shit trail as I could get it....

* * * * * * * * * *

I was wrested away from that pleasant little foray into the past
by the reality of a massive turd making its way out of Hunter's
asshole and heading for my mouth.

"Yeah!  Eat my fuckin' shit, bitch!"

As reluctant as Hunter claimed to be about feeding me his feces,
once he got started, he always seemed to enjoy it.  We were so
practiced at it by then that he knew exactly how much my mouth
could handle at a time, depending on the turd's consistency. 
Since this one was pretty thick, he pushed out only about a
four-inch piece each time before squeezing his sphincter shut and
allowing me the fifteen to twenty seconds he knew I needed to
chew it up and swallow it down.  As soon as he heard me gulp and
begin to pant, he immediately bore down again, dropping another
log in my mouth.

Repeating this procedure several times, it didn't take long for
Hunter to empty his bowels in my mouth, leaving himself two
pounds lighter and me two pounds heavier.  As I licked his
asshole clean afterwards, I was convinced that he had planned to
feed me all along, that, knowing how much I enjoyed the nasty
activity, he never really intended to wait for me to leave then
go dump his load in the bathroom.  He just wanted me to ask for
it.

When I finished tongue-washing Hunter's anus, he stood up, turned
around, and stared down at me wearing a strange expression.

"So, freaky deaky, who you gonna get to shit in your mouth after
I'm gone?" he asked.

Licking my lips, I stared up at him, burped, and shrugged my
shoulders.  "That's a good question.  I just wish I had a good
answer."

His strange expression morphed into his familiar one-sided smile.
 "Don't worry.  You'll find someone."

I only wished it were as easy as advertising on craigslist, but
God only knows what kinds of weirdos would respond to something
as dirty and provocative as "Looking to eat a load of shit out of
20's asshole [32] (South Bronx)."  No, finding someone to do
that--someone who was even half as physically appealing as
Hunter--would be a long, slow process that might never pan out,
very much the way my shit-snacking episode with a sheepish
13-year-old Hunter turned out to be my last time babysitting
him....

* * * * * * * * * *

When Hunter discussed the matter with his mother, she agreed that
he was indeed mature enough to no longer require supervision.  So
after that, he either invited me over as a friend, or I invited
him over to my house, also as a friend.  It all depended on whose
mother was away at the time.  And now that he had the house to
himself for a few hours, Hunter invited other friends over as
well, both boys and girls, broadening his sexual horizons,
particularly the following year, when he became a high school
freshman.  He seemed to delight in doing his thing with them then
inviting me over after they left so I could suck their pussy or
anal residue off his cock; and I was more than happy to oblige,
especially since I was usually rewarded with a rehardening, a
mouth fucking, and a blast fresh of ball juice down my throat.

As Hunter approached fifteen, he grew taller and more muscular,
and his semen rapidly matured from thin and watery to thick and
gooey.  There was also a LOT more of it with every ejaculation,
and I was eager to have him deposit as much of it as he could in
my mouth and up my ass.  This was made a lot easier when I
finally managed to move of my mom's house and get my own
apartment a little further uptown, near Yankee Stadium.  Now I no
longer had to schedule my sexual encounters on when my mother or
Hunter's would be home, and I could also arrange for Hunter to
use my apartment whenever I spent time with my mom.

Hunter was happy for the opportunity. As a horny teenager, he was
eager to stick his now-six-inch dick in any available hole as
often as possible.  Yeah, he would still occasionally slobber
over my schlong and suck down my sperm, but he was much more
interested in getting his own rocks off. By then he had a fairly
steady girlfriend, boyfriend, and me, his 26-year-old fuck buddy,
and, believe it or not, we were all getting our fair share of
him.  Once I told him that he could use my apartment if he'd let
me hide in my bedroom closet and watch him fuck either his
girlfriend or his boyfriend, and when he gave me his patented
half-smile, I knew he was more than open to the idea.

He chose his girlfriend because he wanted to show me what he
could do with a female.  She was a petite white girl with long
blonde hair and big blue eyes, and she seemed to adore him.  As
for Hunter, I was surprised to see how willingly he sucked her
tits and ate her pussy.  But I was even more surprised to see how
passionately they fucked, despite how tiny she was.  At one
point, with his dick planted deep in her cunt, Hunter lifted her
up off the bed and proceeded to fuck her standing up, bouncing
her up and down on his shaft, and she apparently loved every
minute of it, as she grunted and groaned between screaming at him
to fuck her harder.

When Hunter finally shot his load in her, I wanted very much to
burst out of the closet and suck it out of her, but I had to
settle for watching her stand there afterwards with her legs
spread wide and her hands on her knees, letting him watch his cum
drool out of her cunt.  There was so much that it left a sticky
little puddle on the linoleum, and after she left and I came out
of hiding, Hunter invited me to lick it up.  In a flash I was
down on my hands and knees lapping it up and marveling on how
this one load of Hunter's cum had managed to satisfy two people.

Over the next few years, there was a slew of similar scenes with
different people in various places (but, more often than not, my
apartment), as Hunter seemed to change girlfriends and boyfriends
almost as often as he changed his underwear.  It was a fuck-fest
not only for him but for me as well, as I rode his coattails as
the loyal older sidekick in his sexual adventures.  He even
occasionally invited me to take part in a threesome "so there'll
be at least one person in bed that I trust," he claimed, though
more than likely it was because I would do anything he needed me
to.  So I found myself constantly performing "outside the box" by
doing things like fucking a girl's pussy while Hunter fucked her
ass, taking Hunter's dick up my ass while another guy fucked my
mouth, and even getting double-fucked by Hunter and what he
called a "co-fucker" (which I swore would one day split me in
half, since Hunter always sought out guys whose cocks were the
same size as his "'cause it don't work if one dude's dick is mad
bigger or smaller than the other's").

Soon Hunter was seventeen
 and, having grown two inches taller and two inches longer, was
fucking his way through his last year of high school.  Along the
way he somehow also managed to keep up with his studies well
enough to be accepted at a small college.  But that small college
was in California, so at the end of that summer, as Hunter
prepared to leave for his orientation, I prepared for what I
assumed would be my farewell fuck with him.  Of course my heart
was heavy.  I'd gotten used to getting together with Hunter at
least a few times a week.  Now he'd be gone for months; and
during his breaks, who's to say he'd even come home?  Instead
he'd probably end up on a beach somewhere getting drunk and
fucking every young man and woman in sight.  In other words, it
was possible that I might not see him for as long as a year.

So two days before Hunter was due to leave for his orientation
(knowing his mother was planning a surprise going-away party for
him the day before), I invited Hunter to my apartment, and we
fucked pretty much the way we did years later at the hotel, with
Hunter giving me more going-away pesents than I could ever have
hoped for.  But afterwards, as I lay on my bed with my belly full
of spunk and a fresh load dribbling out of my asshole, I broke
down, sobbing openly about how much I'd miss him and how I'd
probably never see him again, much less have sex with him.

Hunter listened patiently to my woes and was very understanding
and compassionate, massaging my ass while assuring me that he
would make every effort to see me those few times during the year
that he came back to the City.  Right after saying that, though,
he dropped the bomb, smiling his familiar smile and confessing
that he wasn't going to college in California after all; he was
going to a SUNY college in Purchase, NY, a mere stone's throw
from the Bronx, and would probably be back home nearly every
weekend!  Hearing this I was thoroughly pissed off that he'd led
me on but utterly relieved that he wouldn't be 3,000 miles away.
Of course my relief quickly overcame my anger, as I realized that
Hunter and I would continue to be fuck buddies after all for the
foreseeable future, but I still grabbed him, put him over my
knee, and spanked him for being such a bad boy, taking pleasure
as I watched his light-skinned ass turn a bright shade of red.

So Hunter and I continued our get-togethers for the next four
years.  I swear I don't know how he managed to finish college,
much less do so well, but he was magna CUM laude in both the
classroom and the bedroom, fucking guys and gals of all
nationalities and in all combinations, and I was right there to
witness it.  Once he convinced a bunch of them to get together
for an orgy, which again took place at my apartment.  The music
was so loud, the drinking and pot smoking so heavy, and the sex
so prevalent that I was surprised my neighbors didn't call the
cops, because I'm sure they could hear and feel the walls
thrumming with passion, as straight, gay, and bi sex took place
in every room of the house.  That night I swallowed what seemed
like gallons of semen and cunt juice, gloriously topped off when
a drunk Hunter dragged me into the bathroom, pushed me onto the
floor, pulled down his pants, and took a massive shit right down
my throat while screaming, "EAT it, you fuckin' toilet!!"

It took me a while to recover.  My head ached for two days, my
stomach was upset for three, and it seemed as if cum would never
stop drooling out of my asshole, forcing me to change my
underwear several times the following day, but I wouldn't have
traded that wild experience for anything in the world, and I knew
Hunter felt the same way.

What I didn't know, however, was that in the midst of all his
indiscriminant fucking, Hunter
had secretly met someone special, specifically during his junior
year, someone he did not invite to the orgy. He was a fellow
20-year-old named Diego, and the two of them had hit it off, not
just as sex partners but as real friends, and their bond was
growing closer every day.

When Hunter finally introduced him to me on one of his trips back
home, I could tell right away why he'd been so attracted to him.
With his green eyes, curly black hair, and cafe-au-lait
complexion, Diego was almost beautiful.  Yeah, he was a bit on
the thin side and didn't have much of an ass, but this didn't
seem to bother Hunter at all.  They had both applied to graduate
school at UCLA for computer programming, had both been accepted,
and were planning to fly out to California right after graduation
to settle in before starting their studies....

* * * * * * * * * *

"I think everything's gonna work out," said Hunter as we toweled
off after showering together at the hotel.

"Yeah, for YOU," I grumbled.

"Come on, Kev, don't be like that.  We had a lot of good years
together, you and me, so don't ruin it.  You know we both need to
move on, so let's part as friends."

Of course, he was right.  So I apologized for being a negative
nelly and wished them well,  adding that I hoped they also had a
nice time occupying this room for the next day.

"Just don't do anything WE didn't do," I said.

Hunter smiled.  "I promise.  Cross my heart and hope to die."

We exchanged a knowing laugh because we both understood that
whenever Hunter said this, it really meant that he intended to
break whatever promise he'd just made.  So I asked him if I could
hide in the closet and watch them, but he said no, that he
wouldn't be comfortable with that.

"Besides," he said, "whose birthday did you get the room for,
yours or mine?"

I thought about this and knew that, again, he was right.  I was
trying my best to hog in even more on something that was supposed
to be for him and Diego.  So I apologized again and, as we got
dressed, resolved to act my age and accept that there are
beginnings and endings to everything in life, especially
relationships, and it was simply our turn.

Hunter and I left the hotel together and walked to the corner,
upon which we hugged, promised to keep in touch, and headed in
opposite directions.  A part of me wanted to turn around and get
one last look at that magnificent ass, but I resisted the
temptation and continued to head for the subway; then another
part of me wanted to double back to the hotel and book the room
next door to the one I'd gotten for Hunter, but again I resisted.
 Still, I couldn't stop thinking how, either later on that night
or the following day, Hunter would return to the hotel with
Diego, and the next chapter of his life would officially begin.

I slept fitfully that night.  It was normal for me to dream about
Hunter, especially when he was away, and the dreams were always
about our passionately fucking in some exotic locale.  That night
my dream started out that same way, with Hunter and me both buck
naked and making our way to the roof of the hotel.  But as soon
as I bend over and Hunter is about to penetrate me, the roof door
suddenly opens and there stands Diego.  He beckons Hunter, who
immediately turns away from me and starts running towards him.  I
run after him, yelling for him to come back, but he ignores me
and keeps running after Diego.  I proceed to follow them through
an endless maze of hotel corridors until finally, out of nowhere,
a big red door appears, and Diego and Hunter dash inside,
slamming the door in my face.  I begin to pound on the door with
my fist, begging Hunter to open it and come back wih me, but all
I hear is the two of them laughing.

I woke up with a start, sweating profusely.  I was happy that
this had been a dream but, at the same time, unhappy because it
simply reflected my real-life situation.  As I lay there trying
to go back to sleep, I kept telling myself to let go and that
life goes on, but I was overwhelmed by my own selfish need to
hang on to Hunter, and to do that I needed understand his
relationship with Diego so I could exploit it, and I was
convinced that a big part of doing that meant knowing exactly how
they related to each other sexually.

But with the exception of the little hints that Hunter had
dropped here and there, I had no clue what was going on between
them in that hotel room, and it rankled the hell out of me.  My
only consolation was knowing that I had gotten the birthday boy's
dick--and a fucking big load of his cum--first in that same room.
 Unfortunately knowing that wouldn't help me get any future loads
from Hunter or set me up to find my own Diego.

As a last resort, I waited until Hunter and Diego were back in
school for the last stretch of their senior year, then called
Hunter, and tried once more to persuade him to tell me all about
what they'd done at the hotel.  But he resisted my pleas, calmly
telling me that, just like the things we'd done were just between
me and him, what he and Diego did were equally private, and he
intended to keep it that way.  Then I got desperate and offered
myself up for a second farewell fuck, but Hunter just chuckled,
said he'd talk to me later, and hung up....

* * * * * * * * * *

In June, I attended Hunter's graduation, wishing both him and
Diego well, but of course I was really hoping that things
wouldn't work out.  In fact, I prayed that, after a month or so,
Hunter would get tired of Diego, UCLA, and California, fly back
to New York, and hop back into my bed.  But all of his
communications with me--his emails, texts, tweets, Instagrams,
and Facebook page--said otherwise.  He and Diego were getting
along famously, school was going well, and he absolutely loved
California.

Hunter's mom, for one, was so sure he wouldn't change his mind
that she allowed her apartment lease to run out and moved down
south to be closer to her family, which meant there was no longer
a reason for Hunter to return to the Bronx.  On top of that, even
if he did come back, I'd have to spring for a hotel again because
my landlord raised my fucking rent so high that I had to move out
of my apartment and back in with my mom.  She thought it was
great, but for me it was a bummer, as I felt like my whole life
was in a downward spiral.

So I went to work, came home, ate dinner, and watched TV.  Day
after day after day.  I wasn't exactly depressed; I think I was
mostly angry and jealous that I no longer had Hunter in my life
while Diego, and whoever else they'd met in California, did.  My
mom suggested that I go to a bar or club or join one of those
on-line dating sites to try to meet someone, but Hunter and I had
had a pretty depraved relationship, and  I wasn't interested in
putting in the time or energy looking for someone who could never
replace him.

Then something crazy happened: Somebody moved into the vacated
apartment next door.  No, that wasn't the crazy part.  What was
crazy was that it was another single mom with another young boy!
Naturally all sorts of feelings came flooding back to me, but I
was determined not to act on them.  Besides, this was an
opportunity to set things straight by getting to know the mother
instead of the son.

So I did.  And why not?  Half Dominican and half
African-American, Carlita was a knockout, with her light-brown
eyes, heavy eyebrows, golden-brown skin, and long dark hair.  She
was in her late twenties, so she was the right age, and she had
moved to New York as part of the process of breaking up with her
ex, her son's father, so she was also available.

I was happy to introduce myself to Carlita and show her the town.
 (Shit, I was so desperate to get my life in order, and she was
such a piece of eye candy, that I was happy just to be seen with
her!)  And she seemed happy to let me do it.  Everything seemed
to click.  We both liked many of the same things.  Even our names
seemed to go together.

Soon Carlita and I were dating, and it was convenient to be
living right next door to her because my mom would watch her son,
Santos, so we didn't have to worry about finding a babysitter
every time we went out or paying her/him overtime if our date ran
late.  Whenever we got back home, it was just a matter of
carrying a usually sleepy or sleeping Santos across the hall,
tucking him in, and the two of us relaxing in Carlita's
king-sized bed.

What's more, Carlita even seemed to be open to my kinkiness!  She
was open to anal sex, both taking it up the ass and giving it to
me with a strap-on; she didn't mind swallowing my cum or taking a
load of it in her face; and when she told me she had to pee, and
I asked her how she would feel about doing it in my mouth, she
simply said, "Why don't you come with me to the bathroom and find
out?"  Once there she squatted on my face and proceeded to give
me as much piss as I could handle, flooding my mouth as I happily
guzzled it down.  Best of all, when she caught me nosing around
her asshole, when I thought she was asleep, she didn't heistate
to fart right in my face, laugh about it, then spread her cheeks
to give me better access when I started tonguing her anus.  And
even though I haven't approached her about the shit-eating yet,
her reactions to all the other stuff are promising, and I am more
and more convinced that this woman is MY Diego....

* * * * * * * * * *

One night, while Carlita and I are cuddled up watching a movie,
she reminds me that she enrolled in a college class after work
(so she can get enough credits to finish her bachelor's degree)
and that the semester is starting that Friday; then she asks me
if I am still able to pick Santos up from school and watch him
for just that one night for the next four months.

"Sure, no problem," I say.  "I'm still good to go with that."

"Good," she says, relaxing in my arms, "because without his
father around, he needs some steady male companionship, and he
really likes you."

I already know this.  He's a cute little boy, looking very much
like a mini male version of his mom with shorter hair, and I am
developing a kind of step-father relationship with him, so in my
mind there is no reason to fear a repeat performance of what
happened with Hunter.  Sure, it will be the first time that the
two of us will be together without his mom being there, but that
shouldn't make a difference.  The only reason things went south
with Hunter and me was that I was horny, he'd already been
"primed," and I lacked a girlfriend.  In short, it had been a
perfect storm.  But now that I am happily with Carlita, there is
no reason to worry about something like that happening with
Santos.  We will have a normal adult/child relationship, and he
will would grow up a normal, well-adjusted kid.

So on Friday afternoon, I stride confidently into Santos's
elementary school and pick him up.  On our way home, I buy us a
couple of ice cream cones, and not once do I experience déjà vu
with regard to any of the nasty things I did with Hunter.  In
other words, I am, at 32, finally acting my age, meaning like the
mature male I need to be instead the immature teenager I used to
be.

Everything goes well.  When we get to Carlita's house, I fix us
an early dinner, and Santos and I eat while watching a superhero
show on the Disney Channel.  After that we play a few video
games, and though I beat him every time, I'm very impressed by
both his resolve to win as well as his sportsmanship when he
doesn't.  It was obvious that his mom had taught him well.

The ultimate test comes when it was time for Santos's bath. 
While I'll admit that my thoughts wander as I admire his youthful
nudity, my fingers never do, and I manage to help him wash and
dry him off without paying undue attention to his tiny genitals
or his mini-butt.

Finally it's Santos's bedtime.  I help him into his PJs, tuck him
in, and even sit next to him and read him a bedtime story.  As I
come to the end of it, Santos is drifting off, and I am
congratulating myself for having passed this important test in my
and Carlita's relationship: I will have no problem babysitting
her son from now until the end of her semester, and we will both
be there at her graduation to watch her walk and get her diploma,
and unlike the last graduation I attended, I will truly be
wishing this graduate well.

I am pondering all of this and am about to turn Santos's bedroom
light off and walk out of the room when, still groggy, he gently
grasps my arm.

"Kevin, can we play a game?"

"Sure, champ.  But are you sure you're awake enough?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay.  What do you want to play?  Another video game?"

"Uhn-uh," he says, shaking his head.  "It's a different kind of
game.  Only guys can play."

"What do you mean?"

That's when sweet little innocent Santos, beckons me closer,
looked me dead in the eye, and, smiling a lopsided smile, asks,
"Can I suck your dick?"


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