Message-ID: <63826asstr$1481008202@assm.asstr.org>
From: Hugh Banton <clover2209@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Hugh Banton <clover2209@yahoo.com>
References: <1563377920.5285488.1480809066207.ref@mail.yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} New story - KEY TO MY CROTCH
Lines: 263
Date: Tue, 06 Dec 2016 02:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Hi editors, Here is my latest gay male story, "Key to my Crotch." Thanks!
This is a work of fiction. All persons are intended to be age 18 and above.
---
KEY TO MY CROTCH
By anonymous.a

This story starts with a key, as the title suggests. Duh.
For some reason the previous owners of the house I’m currently living in had a shed
built in the back yard – not one of those flimsy aluminum things you see at every
Lowe’s or Home Depot but an honest to God stick-built structure with a lockable
door, shingled roof and even a window. If this were New York City I could rent the
thing out for a thousand a month.
It occurred to me one day that if I lost the key, which I was currently searching
for in a drawer cluttered with batteries, sewing kits and matchbooks, I would be up
the proverbial creek without a paddle. It was the only copy. I could call a
locksmith, which would set me back a hundred or so dollars. But wouldn’t it be
smarter to have a backup key made?
I finally found it and decided yes, I needed to have that key made right now.
I headed out to the Lowe’s across town, where a girl eyed the key, then looked over
the jillions of blanks on her revolving key stand until she settled on one and
inserted it into the cutting machine. After a brief period of
fingernail-on-chalkboard screeching, the machine finished and the girl handed me my
new spare key. It cost less than $3.
Aaaaand, it didn’t work.
I swore at myself. The big boxes were great for selling mass-produced shit for
cheap, but when it came to something like cutting a key they sucked to high heaven.
How many times had I gone to Lowe’s or Home Depot for a key, only to have the damn
thing not fit the lock when I got home?
I took it back to Lowe’s and got a refund – hey, $3 is $3. I decided I would try a
locksmith, but before that I’d risk having one made at Home Depot. Who knows? Maybe
I’d get lucky.
Little did I know.
Home Depot was on the other side of town, as luck would have it, but it was near
another store I wanted to visit, so I didn’t mind the drive. The lot was mostly
empty so I had no trouble finding a parking spot.
The key kiosk was about halfway down the row of aisles, right up front. Problem was,
nobody was there. I wandered around wearing my “I’m lost and need help” face, when
suddenly this kid appeared. He was an odd-looking boy of, I’d say, 16 or 17, about
5-11, maybe 150 pounds, and thin blonde hair on an oversized skull. When I say “odd”
I don’t mean to imply “unattractive” because he was fairly cute, just in a different
way. I think maybe it was the size of his skull, which was disproportionately larger
than his body. It gave him a strange, child-like aspect. 
“Watcha need?” he asked. His voice was deep and masculine, which further contributed
to the weirdness. It was as if somebody had grafted a boy’s head onto a man’s body
and somehow retained the man’s voice. I gave a quick glance down below. He had a
fine, muscular ass hiding beneath those blue jeans, and the hint of something in his
crotch. I wondered if that too would be disproportionately large.
I told him my tale of woe and he said, “Gotcha” and beckoned me to follow him. We
went around the corner and held up at a strange machine I’d never seen before.
Apparently you insert the key to be copied into a slot, and a computer exams it and
picks out the perfect blank. Then, you insert the blank into an adjoining slot and
the machine cuts it.
I gave him my key. When I pressed it into his hand I made a point of extending the
contact. His skin was amazingly soft, almost silky, and perfectly dry. A lot of
men’s hands are sweaty and sticky, as if they’d just been shafting their cocks. But
not Bighead Boy. Another bit of weirdness.
The machine immediately picked out a blank and the kid fetched it from a rack and
stuck it into the slot. As the machine cut it, I made a joke about the sound
reminding me of a cavity being filled. That struck a chord with the kid, who went on
about how he hates having cavities filled, and the sound of the drill on his teeth,
the vibration traveling from the bone into his skull, and if it weren’t for the
Novocain, how bad would that hurt?
The machine finished cutting. He now had to insert it into a different slot where it
would be smoothed and any filings removed by a revolving wire brush. While he was
doing that, I asked him which of the three local high schools he was attending. He
told me, and as we chitchatted he mentioned he was 18, and a senior, and already
applying to colleges for admissions.
He removed the key from the slot and searched for one of those small, white paper
bags to put it in. As he did that, I told him to have fun at college. And, looking
back on it, I’m slightly amazed that I said the following, although I don’t know why
I should be. I have a habit of making outrageous statements.
“I’m sure you’ll have a good time at college. Heck, if I were 15 years younger and
you were gay, I’d be asking for your phone number.”
He looked at me intently for a moment, then said, “It’s 872-8421. And I get off at
6.”
Holy shit! Holy fucking shit! I couldn’t believe my luck. I scrambled for my phone,
screwed up the entry code because I was hitting the keyboard in a panic, finally got
logged in and told him to give me that number again. He did. And he told me his name
– Jess.
I got him added to my contacts. My ears were ringing and my brain felt as if it were
about to leak out of my skull. It’s not unusual to go the store and come back with a
lot of stuff you weren’t expecting to pick up, but how many times does that include
a hot 18-year-old?
I promised I would call him. As I walked away, he said, “See ya,” and added slyly,
“Daddy.”
I spent the next three hours showering, shaving, changing clothes, getting my house
cleaned up, flossing my teeth, trimming my eyebrows – hell, just anything I thought
needed doing to make myself presentable. I even changed the sheets on the bed, in
the faint hope things would progress that far. I remembered reading a classified ad
on Craigslist from a guy who was complaining about a potential sex partner who left
before the fun began because the bed smelled like “a sack of farts.” Didn’t want any
chance of that happening with Jess.
At quarter to 6 I called him and demanded that he come over, straight from the
store. I told him where I lived. He said he’d be right there.
And at a quarter after 6 a Honda Civic pulled into the driveway. He shut off the
headlights and got out. He walked to the front door and knocked. I opened it,
ushered him, then closed the door and locked it. When I turned around, he pressed
himself into me and kissed me.
This was not a quick peck on the cheek or one of those tongues-and-spit exchanges
you see in porn videos. He raised his right hand to the back of my head, ran his
fingers into my salt-and-pepper hair and pulled me into his lips, pressing them
against me, his tongue darting in and out flirtatiously. He pressed his body against
mine. It was warm and soft, like butter left out of the fridge since yesterday, and
it molded to fit the shape of my body. I could feel the stiffness of his cock and it
compelled mine to grow hard and rise inside my jeans, yanking out pubes as it
lengthened. 
He held the kiss about 30 seconds and then, without saying a word, took my hand and
led me to the back of the house. He didn’t have trouble deciding which bedroom was
mine – only one had a bed in it. He lay down and pulled me down on top of him, his
face beaming with innocent pleasure, and he said, “Now kiss the living shit out of
me.”
I fell into him, devouring him with my mouth, my lips tasting the flesh behind his
ear, his ear lobes, his throat, then landing on his lips to greedily suck at his
mouth. He moaned suggestively and I could feel the vibration of his vocal chords
against my own throat, almost like a cat purring loudly, and it was such a turn-on I
groaned myself. My hands were exploring his body, slipping under his Polo shirt to
roam his hairless chest, up over his shoulders, his pits and then down, down, until
I was massaging his thighs. He pushed his crotch against mine as his hands ran
through my hair and across my back, pulling me into him, as if every square inch of
my body had to be crushed against his.
This was so unlike many of my sexual encounters, especially with guys his age.
Usually they want to focus on the mechanics of sucking and fucking. But not this
kid. He seemed to recognize and enjoy the pleasure of simple physicality, the
compression of flesh against flesh. As we lay there on the bed wiggling against each
other, our efforts generating a delicious, sensual heat and the odor of our ramped
up pheromones lending a thick, musky scent to the air in the dark bedroom, I began
to wonder why I had seldom explored this aspect of lovemaking. To think, I could
learn something about sex from an 18-year-old kid. It turned my cock into a steel
I-beam. 
I had to have him.
I paused in my efforts to pull his shirt off. His chest was pink and, as I said,
hairless. He had enormous areoles that I immediately planted my lips on, eliciting a
mischievous giggle from him. As I sucked I began working on his belt buckle. He had
kicked off his track shoes so getting those blue jeans off was simply a matter of
undoing the belt and snap, then ripping them off those slim, blonde hips.
I could see beneath his boxer briefs he was as hard as I was. His dick was about 5½,
maybe 6 inches long, and it looked like he had enormous balls, based on the way
those briefs sagged in the crotch. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth down there.
Before I even knew what was happening he had my shirt off. I have some hair on my
chest, not a lot, but he ran his hands through it as if it were a thick, furry nap,
all the while kissing me voraciously, dropping from my lips to my jaw to my throat.
Again, his body was pressed into mine and I could feel the iron hardness of his dick
as it rubbed against my crotch. When he pulled back a moment I could see a wet spot
in his briefs. My jaws ached and my mouth watered in anticipation of tasting
whatever was leaking there.
Without thinking I had gotten completely naked. As Jess continued kissing me I
slipped my hands under those boxer briefs and palmed his ass cheeks, forcing his
underwear down simultaneously. I could feel the muscle rippling beneath my hands as
he pushed down and then stepped out of the briefs. Then, he followed his underwear
and got down on his knees on the floor beside the bed. He took my hard cock into his
wet mouth and began to suck.
His skin may have been silky cool but his mouth was a furnace of heat and suction.
He molded his tongue around my cock and bobbed on it, letting the tip do unnamable
things to my pee hole and head. His hands gripped my buttocks and squeezed as he
sucked on me, and if I had let him continue it would have been only a minute or two
before I emptied my balls into his mouth. I had other plans for that sperm.
I pulled him up and then pushed him down on the bed. I knelt and grabbed his ankles,
spreading his legs and raising them at the same time. I pushed my face into his
crotch, my nose against his dick and my mouth just above his balls. They were
enormous, just as I’d guessed, and I couldn’t help but fondle them as I sniffed and
licked at his essence. This blond-haired man-boy had a wonderful, clean aroma that
had to be sampled both by nose and mouth. I gave his cock a few laps, then allowed
my mouth to travel south to his balls, pushing my face into them as I licked the
scrotum. His flesh was slightly salty with an intensifying taste of musk as his body
prepared to do what it had been designed to do.
Then I moved farther south, licking at his taint. A few hairs sprouted there and it
was barely sticky.
Just below was the real prize.
I buried my mouth in his ass crack and stuck my tongue against his hole. The heat
between his cheeks was like the oven when you open it to take out a pizza you’ve
been cooking. I pressed my face into it as far as it would go and simultaneously
pulled his cheeks apart to get better exposure. He began groaning in pleasure (I
hope!) as I slurped noisily at his ass. He was as clean and fresh there as the rest
of his body, but the musk was much stronger, and it was having an effect on me.
I stood up. My cock was standing straight out from my body. I looked down at him. He
still had that goofy smile on his face, and his cheeks were flushed a British
schoolboy red. He said in that weirdly masculine voice, now husky with desire,
“C’mon Daddy. Put it in me.”
I had lube on the nightstand. I coated my dick with squirt. I knelt a little, to
position the head against his hole.
“Push it in,” he said dreamily. “Push that motherfucker inside me.”
I followed his orders.
I didn’t just slam it in, like all the pornos say you should do. I pressed against
his hole. There was some resistance, not the impossible muscular rigidity of an anal
virgin but enough resistance to make me work for it. I took it slowly, despite my
desperate need to fuck him, and slowly entered the increasing heat and friction of
his rectum. He let out a long moan of sexual desire as the head of my dick popped
past his anal ring. That’s when I gasped. The heat was cauterizing. It was as if
this little slice of boy heaven had the fires of hell contained within his ass. I
pushed and pushed, and the muscles of his ass squeezed my cock with such vigor I
thought I would unload right then and there.
Finally I bottomed out. My crotch was balls deep in his fun hole. I left it there a
moment, like a bewildered explorer taking in the spectacle of his latest discovery,
then slowly, gently began to pull out, then push back. Pull out, push back. His
muscles slacked a little, which made the effort easier, and I quickened my pace.
As I fucked him, he flung his head right and left, that thin blond hair flying, and
he whispered little nothings, “Oh God yes! God, yes! Oh Jesus, that feels so good.
Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my tight hole. Fuck your boy.” His dirty talk alone could have
sent me over the edge. I had to stop several times and just hold my dick in place to
keep from cumming. I used those occasions to lean down and kiss him. He greedily
consumed mouth with a gasping enthusiasm that encouraged me to resume fucking.
For the next 15 minutes that’s what I did – fuck him and then pause, leaning in for
a kiss and some dirty talk. Sometimes I alternated between long powerstrokes and
quick rabbitpunches – he seemed to like anything and everything I offered. 
Finally, I felt the muscles of his asshole clench my dick, and I looked down to see
his cock erupting with huge floes of cum that shot up his chest, coating that
hairless expanse of flesh with slick trails of man juice. I could feel his muscles
thrumming as he cried out in ecstasy and continued pumping seed onto his chest and
stomach. Young guys have gallons of sperm and this kid, with his huge balls, was no
exception. He could have repopulated the world with all that jizz.
Seeing him bust his nut was too much for me. I started to pull out, but he held me
in – “You’re disease-free, right?” he asked, to which I replied, “I wouldn’t be
fucking you without a condom if I weren’t.”
His smile broadened. “Then pump it into me, Daddy. Make me your bitch. Make me
pregnant.”
Oh fuck. What he said hit some kind of trigger and my orgasm snuck up on me. Next
thing you know I was slamming into him, blasting spasm after spasm of sperm into his
colon. I think my eyes must have rolled back in the sockets because for a moment I
couldn’t see, such was the intensity of my climax. I just kept pushing and emptying
until the tidal wave of pleasure began to ebb, leaving me shaking and just a little
bit delirious. I took huge, whistling breaths as I hung over him, then leaned down
to kiss him, my cock still firmly lodged in his 18-year-old ass.
We snuggled and kissed as I regained my sensibilities. I could feel his sperm, cool
to the touch now, against my chest as my cock softened and plopped from his hole. He
made little “Mmmm” sounds as we both drifted down from our orgasmic plateaus.
I finally stepped away from him and he stood up. Cum was running down his leg. It
looked sexy as hell.
“That was fucking awesome,” he said, his voice back to its previous baritone. “I’m
gonna want more of that from now on. Are you up to it?”
I took a deep breath, still slightly winded. “I’ve got lots and lots of keys I need
made into copies,” I said.
“Gotcha” he answered. And then he winked.
---
If you enjoyed this story from anonymous.a, please visit his author’s page on Amazon
at https://www.amazon.com/anonymous.a/e/B01DIB9L3O/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 
Most of his books are priced at 99 cents, but you’ll get more than a buck’s worth of
hot action!
Remember, you don’t need a Kindle device to read a Kindle story. Download the free
app for your phone, tablet or PC.
Anonymous.a is on twitter at @anonymous_sexie . 
He’s also on tumblr at theanonymousa.tumblr.com .
Email clover2209@yahoo.com
The author wishes to make it known he does not want to receive communication in any
form regarding issues of underage individuals. 

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