Gay Erotic Stories

Boys To Men Part I "Line up straight!" The Warden barked to the shifting, unsettled row of new prisoners being inducted in, that evening. "Now, where was I?" He turned his eyes back to the clip board in his hands. "Foster! Cliff!" He looked up to the column of men again and a young man came to attention, just as he had been shown to do whenever spoken to by a Warden. Once he knew Warden Lucas identified him, he returned to standing at ease. "Blue eyes, blond, 126lb," he glanced up to confirm these statistics, before returning to his brief, "5'9", 19 and 1 month and says here you killed someone?" Smugly, Lucas lowered his clip board and glared at the youngster. "Well, we know what to do with your kind sonny. We put your type in with horny sex criminals. They can pump the shit out of you until the blood runs and you can kill the creeps for all we care. Suits us right down to the ground." He lifted the clip board again, "King! Gary!" It took about 2 hours to brief the new prisoners, strip them; put them passed a quick cold shower; dress them in prison blues and be insulted by Warden Lucas. Most of them more than deserved the treatment they were given. Of the 10 being rolled through the outer chamber, 5 were third offenders or worse. Cliff was a first timer as was Mark Tyson. The rest has been through all this before as well. But eventually, they were filed out and marched to their new cells. It was already after lights-out, so as each was urged with a stick, into his cell, their came back cries of abuse, since the prisoner inside the cell was already trying to sleep. Or so he would pretend. Sleep came often late in the night for most prisoners and even then, in short duration's of an hour here or there. There was always so much noise going on one way or another, that sleep was really something they yearned for as much as sex. "Well, what are they feeding me tonight?" Came a croaky voice from the darkness, as Cliff was pushed into the cell. "Looks like some real tender meat - veal!" "He's all yours Moby." The Guard laughed each word, as he slammed the door shut. There was silence, except for another cell door opening, curses and it slamming again. Cliff stood just near the bars, trying to allow his eyes to become accustomed to the near dark room. Slowly, he recognized a toilet in the far corner, and above it, he could faintly see what looked like a barred window. But not until the other man moved, could he focus on exactly where the bunks might be. He saw a flicker, as legs swung out and hung from the top bunk. Then a flash, as the man jumped to the floor. As he landed, it sounded like an explosion - everything was exaggerated in this darkness. The figure moved closer and as it did, more light filtering from behind Cliff, allowed a form - an outline - to become more clear. "So, what's yu' name kid?" Cliff could see the shape more clearly now as well as the hand extended toward him. Should he accept it? It might be just what this guy wants him to do. But not for friendship. The hand slowly dropped and the man stopped when arms length away. "Friendly little shit ain't yu'! So? What'cha been told about me?" "I guess I got the bottom bunk." Cliff brushed by the man and walked into the darkness, though the other man's eyes would be more accustomed to the dimness and would know exactly where he was at any second. He sat on the bunk and felt around him. The mattress was bare and his fingers found a bundle of bed clothes, folded at the end of the bunk. Seemed like a sheet and a couple of blankets. Cliff watched the man, who was now more visible with the faint light at his back. But he was still only a shadow. "You getting back in your bunk or standing there all night?" Cliff felt he had to show he wasn't afraid - though he hoped his chattering teeth didn't give him away. He believed he hid his slight fear quite well. His voice had been firm and not a quaver to it. He forced a cough, to get more air in his lungs more than anything. The small amount of phlegm he achieved was spat toward the toilet. Yes, he was giving a great show of guts and mettle. "Yu missed. You want to be a filthy pig, find another cell. Yu' hear?" The man took a couple of steps forward, hands went to his hips, legs spread and his voice rattled with demand. "I scrubbed this fucking floor this afternoon and not so some snotty nosed kid could come here and blow his lungs all over the place." The man moved at a swift pace. In the dark he saw a movement, then felt a fist take his head back. As he slowly fell back against the wall behind him, the 2 feet disappeared up, onto the bunk overhead. Then, clouds drifted in and he drifted out. He woke during the night, with a neck kinked to the side, aching. Sitting up, his head hurt, his jaw throbbed and sharp pains ran from it when he touched it. His knees also hurt from hanging loose over the side of the bunk for God knows how long. The cell was as dark as when he left it and fell into unconsciousness. Above him, he could hear a steady breathing - slowly in and slowly out. The man was in a deep sleep. Cliff quietly stood and walked around a little, to try and get the knots out of his body. Stretching, bending, twisting and flexing. The muscles in his well tuned body come to life. Returning to the bunk, as quietly as he could, he flapped the sheet and blankets out but without tucking them in, slipped into the hard bunk and rolled onto his side, to face into the room. He wanted to be able to see this man coming next time. But presently, he knew he was alright. That breathing stayed unchanged. Almost hypnotic - in, out, no difference. And as Cliff listened to it, he found his own breathing falling into the same pattern. His eyelids closed, his brain began dreaming stupidness and then, it was morning. "Get up! Get up!" Cliff was rocked violently awake. His eyes slowly opened and saw a man walk to the barred door, grip it and try to peer through the bars to his right and left. As Cliff threw his feet out onto the floor, the man turned and walked back to stand in front of him. Looking up at him, he was a little surprised to find his cell mate was not much older than himself. He wore only shorts and Chinese rubber thongs. His body looked void of any hair except on his head, armpits and a fine coating over both his legs and forearms. Very well worked muscles was all Cliff could see. Arms, powerful, shoulders broad and well rounded, chest thrusting from well honed collar bones, ballooning out perfectly, with 2 tiny dark brown teats, pointed and hard. With his hands on hips once more, his deltoids lunged out from his rib cage and chest, announcing the obvious broad and strong back. He had heard guys in his gym speak of others with a "six pack" stomach but now he understood the term more fully. Each tight mass of immovable muscle was packed close to the one next or above or below another. They tapered into a V and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. Not a hair from bull neck to below the navel. From the other side of his short, 2 solid pillars of flexing thighs, akin to carved tree trunk, drove toward the floor, but not before becoming well developed, curved calves. Slowly, Cliff lifted his eyes upward, passed that colossal neck. A strong jaw framed an angry mouth and above, fierce eyes beamed down at him, under a furrowed brow. Cliff could well imagine a very handsome young man, if he wasn't quite so enraged. "We got breakfast call in 10 minutes so get the fuck up, make your fucking bed and clean that fucking mess up you made last night!" He swung on his heels and returned to his vigil by the cell door. "Who frigging died and made you chief?" Cliff stood, turned and began to straighten his bunk, tucking in the sheets and blankets this. Looking back over his shoulder now and again, in case this guy reacted to those comments, Cliff finished the job and went over to the lavatory, where he tore off some toilet paper and mopped up the almost evaporated spittle from the floor. After this, he plugged up the basin and gave himself a hands and face wash. But looking around, there was no towel. "Got a towel?" "Please." The man slowly turned to face Cliff. "Please. Have you got a towel?" Cliff threw him as false a smile as he could form. The man slowly strolled to his bunk and dragged a towel from the back railing. He tossed it over to Cliff and returned to his station by the door. As Cliff lifted the towel to his face to dry off, he smelt traces of maleness. There was not only the scent of a masculine body, but he knew that other bouquet - spunk. It was obvious, this guy had pumped himself into the towel. The odor was upon the entire towel. He couldn't seem to find a spot which didn't carry the seedy aroma. And by the time he had finished drying his face, he found he was simply holding it close to his nose for this reason alone. This gorgeous hunk of youth, who smelt like Tarzan, making him wish he was Jane, was really just an arsehole. But he liked what he saw and smelt. "Thanks." Cliff walked the towel, as if it was his pride and joy, over to the bunk and hung it back over the end of the top berth. Looking toward the cell door, he realized the man hadn't even turned to watch him. "Look - ah - maybe we better start again." "So? What's your name?" He still didn't turn to face Cliff. "Cliff Foster." He walked toward the man, extending his hand now. "Dick West." He turned, his face a little less severe and took Cliff's hand in his. "But they call me Moby." "Yeah, yeah I get it. From the movie." Cliff smiled and shook the hand firmly. "No, from the size of my whale dick." He clutched his shorts, which hadn't given any sign of concealing anything too big. But the handful he took, certainly wasn't a couple of marbles and a pencil either. "They said they were going to put me with some sort of sex maniac and I guess they did." Cliff didn't mind in the least if it were true - he was liking Moby more by the second. "Yeah well - I guess they're right." He turned to face out into the corridor of bars once more. His face took on a stern appearance. "I'm in for child molesting. And what about you? Guess you're in for murder. They always try and match us up. They hope a murderer will enjoy knocking us rock spiders, off." "Yeah they said that too." "So, you'll make it my fifth now." Moby slowly turned to face Cliff and a wide, almost evil smile came over his lips. "The others weren't too good at their job." "Shit man I don't give a fuck what you did. Sure I murdered someone and I'd murder him again if I had to. I'm not sorry. But I ain't got no argument with you." "Keep it that way. Its safer." Moby dragged his shorts down and let his dick fall out over the waistband of his shorts. "This loves boys." It seemed to throb with the idea and memory of it all. "So, you're safe from it." He pulled his shorts back into place. "You really go for - kids?" Cliff almost put a giggle across the words. "No not - kids! Boys. And boys who know what they want as much as I do. Boys who beg for it. Boys who crave cock. Man cock. Boys who rather fuck with a man than someone their own age - and that's just about every boy in town !" Moby was very passionate about his side of the issue. "OK. OK. I'm not judging you Moby." "Boys are just men with less experience. Their dicks are smaller and muscles not fully grown but they know what they want! And I only gotta walk by any high school dressed like this and have heaps tag along, just begging me for action." He said proudly. "But don't you like having guys your age too?" Cliff occasionally glanced down and saw Moby was becoming sexually excited by whatever memories he was having, while placing his viewpoint to Cliff. Those shorts were now showing plenty of signs of fighting to contain his meat. A thickening bar stretched across the top of the waistline and neared his hip. He secretly hoped it might break through the elastic girdle and cause a spectacle. "Yeah, sure. But I'd much rather boys." His grin rose again and his hand took that bar of growing steel - he squeezed it. "Guys just don't appreciate a man like boys do." "Oh I don't know about that." As he spoke, he licked his lips and locked his eyes on the fist-clenched tract of swelling muscle but realized he was showing his cards too much. "Well I do." He let it go again, as if disappointed. "All they want to do in here is eat my nut juice and feel me up. They don't care about - me." He gave the bars a light punch. "They don't try to please the man inside, only their own desires and wants. Then they think they can judge me. I do with the boys, because I know they want more than just spunk and spit. They want to belong to me. You know?" "Well - yeah. We all want that really, don't we?" "Not in here they don't." Moby's face visibly changed as Cliff watch. He was going through an emotional roller coaster ride and finally settled down with a straight, balanced gaze. "So, who did you knock off?" "Just a guy." Cliff turned and went to his bunk. He wished Moby would go back to talking about sex instead. Or the gates would open and they could go to breakfast. But he also knew if he didn't play it straight down the line, Moby would never trust him and any chance he might have, would be wiped away in a flash. "He took me for a ride. Robbed me of all my savings. Said he could double my money in 6 months, investing it in his computer shop. But he only worked there. He never owned it." "So what happened to make you kill him though?" "What more does a guy need? I'd worked fucking hard for 3 years and was going to take a long holiday overseas. He screwed me for it. $4,000! Then, when I found out and told him I wanted it back, you know what he did?" Moby shook his head. "He just laughed and said - sue me for it. Sue him for it? Fuck that. I grabbed a big screw driver on the work bench and done him until I just couldn't lift my arms again. Christ it made me feel good." "Well, you're certainly getting your long holiday kid. Still think it was worth it?" "Told yu' I did! I'm not sorry! How many others had that arsehole ruined? How many more would he screw, if I didn't take him out?" "Well I gotta hand it to yu' Cliff, at least yu' aren't claiming yu' innocent like every other bastard in the place." Moby turned to face that door again. "I didn't do anything wrong. My boys loved me." He turned to face Cliff again. "And yu' know how I got found out? One of the silly buggers was writing me a love poem in class and the teacher took it from him. They had the poor kid in tears before he gave in and talked." Moby walked over to Cliff, who sat on his bunk. "They hurt that kid. Who committed the worse crime? Me, for giving them love or them for beating that love out of him?" "Look, I think I understand what you mean Moby. But you can see why parents get pissed off when their young sons are being done by a grown man. Don't you know how they feel about that?" "In a way. In a way. But if that boy wants it, his wishes should come first." "But he's not old enough to know!" "Bull fucking shit. I knew, when I was only 10! My boys knew too. Just because someone or other says kids can't have sex until they're 18, doesn't make it right. Boys are ready at 15 or less. I was." "But that's you." "That's you too if you're fucking honest. Don't tell me you weren't pulling on your pup before you were 12." Cliff shrugged his shoulders. "And letting it hang with other boys and watching men pissing." "Yeah but that's different." "How?" Moby threw his arms into the air. "Look at me. Look! If you had a chance to take a dose with me when you were 16, would you?" He rolled those shorts down again and this time his cock was much greater than before, though still only semi erect. Cliff smiled and gave a quick nod in agreement. "See! So, who's at fault? Me for giving them what they ask for or them for wanting it? I say neither. I say its the law that's wrong." "But come on Moby - there's got to be a beginning somewhere. When is it right?" "Oh I don't know! Maybe 12 then." "But you just said you were ready at 10." "Yeah I was. But that's me." "So, every boy's development is different - right?" "Maybe. Maybe not." "Its either yes or no. Can't be both." "Why can't it? Why can't it be - when a boy knows what he wants, he can have it. Fuck what some silly old fart who's too old to remember where he put his dick last, to say when a boy is ready for sexual adventure or not." "But that's the point isn't it. Boys will play. It is an adventure to them. Then, along comes a man who takes them from play into fun and games - you know? Next thing, they only know what they are enjoying, not what they might have become, if not..." "Interfered with? Is that what you're going to say? That I help make new child molesters or at least new gay guys by introducing them to gay sex when they might have gone the other way if they never met me?" "Well yes. Isn't it possible?" "Why did you turn? 'cause you love dick more than cunt! Face it." Cliff nodded, cocked his head to the right and raised his eyebrows. Moby got his questions without words. "How'd I get started?" Cliff nodded again. "Well, same as you. Except I had a brother 8 years older than me. He practice fucking on me and I loved it. I mean, at 18, his dick seemed bigger than my arm and to be able to chew on it and watch it driving up my arse - hey there was nothing more exciting. Then, by the time I was 12 and he was 20, well he'd grown even bigger - and better! I just loved hard, hot dicks, but none of the guys in my class had anything that came near Mark's size. So, I worked on some of the older guys. One day I met a final year student who was getting it off with his dad and he introduced me to him. Here was a guy around 38 with an enormous cock - well - to me it seemed that way I guess -now. He was about 8". But I got to love that man dick." "So, how come you still don't prefer men to boys?" "Well, I like them both! I mean I love having a big cock up my arse or down my throat like anyone else. But I also came to understand the enjoyment these men were having with me and often wondered what it would be like. So when I got older, I started..." "How old?" "Oh around 17 or so. By then I was getting it both ways. I was going home with men and having a great time battling with big dicks, while still hanging around guys my own age or younger. And with my experience, I got to be pretty popular!" He laughed with great pride. The doors clanged open automatically and an announcement told the prisoners to muster in the canteen for breakfast. The two strolled out of their cage and into the corridor as Moby continued his yarn. "Anyway, when I got older still, I found I wanted to carry on enjoying both men and boys." "Shut up - creep!" A man nearby, overhearing the conversation, butted in. "Drop dead." Moby showed no sign of fear of the guy. "By 18, my dick was getting to be around 9" and I found both boys and men longed for getting me in the cot. When I found the boys showed true affection instead lust, I wanted to be with them more." "I think we should leave it off until later." Cliff moved ahead as all prisoners formed into a single file. "You got the Tarantula young fella?" Another piped up. Cliff quickly gathered what was meant by that comment and pondered an answer. Moby beat him to the punch. "Yu' only jealous. Now I got a regular fuck pillow, yu' know yu' won't be getting any more of my dick." Moby answered with both mouth and hand - grabbing himself. "Know'n you, he won't be able to keep up with your spunk factory. So you'll still be needing some attention for us." Glancing over his shoulder to see who was publishing the fact he had sex with Moby, Cliff saw a bear of a man take a firm grip on Moby's crotch and squeezed it tight. "Can I have a plate of your porridge for breakfast?" "I'll shit in your face next time, if you don't let my wang go." "So! There's still going to be a next time?" "Just to give you a turd dinner, grizzle guts." "Shut up in line!" Came a call from a Guard nearby. "And Stephens, keep your hands to yourself." "Jealous." The bear of a man answered back. "I'll give you jealous - with this bloody night stick!" The Guard put his hand onto the stick locked onto his belt. Out in the yard, after breakfast, Cliff sat with Moby at the far corner of the compound. He seemed to be sitting with about 15 other guys, while most of the prisoners wandered or hung in groups, all around the yard. Often, he caught sight of some men looking their way and almost as often, they seemed to be fixing their stare on him. The group he was with, weren't taking a bit of notice. They sat chatting about current affairs on the outside, or when they expected their next visitor, who it was and what they would talk about. He found it all very boring, especially after the meaty discussions with Moby an hour earlier. And he hoped he had gleaned from their deliberations, he might possibly be having some really fun times hereafter, with Moby. He wanted to see just how big that dick of his got to and if his balls did amass so much spunk that it took many sessions to empty them out. Judging by the lovely stink from his towel, he could toss more than the average load. "So, where do you have sex in here?" He decided to open a new line of gossip. The men in his direct group stopped dead in their tracks, looking at him, puzzled, then looked to one another. Some grinned, while some shook their heads with surprise. "Where'd you get this one?" One asked Moby. "Oh - he fell in through my window overnight. I took pity on him." "Got a lot to learn kid." Another guy laughed, shaking his head. "If you don't ask you don't learn." Cliff laughed back. "Well, let me put it this way to you son, we're only ever in 5 places here. No where else to go. The cells, bathhouse, shithouse, mess hall and our here. Now where do you think we might have some fucking sex?" The group joined in with laughter. "You forgetting the hot time you and I had in the kitchen freezer Jim?" One asked. "No, but I thank Christ you still let me wear my jacket." "And what about our time in the mop room?" Another nudged Moby. "But that was only a wank job. Nothing serious." "So, there's plenty of places you can have it if you want." "Listen, Cum Dripping - you can lay down right here and I'll suck yu' dry but I don't think many of those guys would let either of us get back inside without a few scratches." Jim nodded toward a particular group of men, who were looking their way. "Yeah, what's with these guys. I've noticed them watching us." "You're with the Rockies mate. 460 of the 500 in here want to see us dead. The remaining 20 or so hate our guts but love our dicks, arse and mouth, they bend their principles." "Hey - I'm not a rock spider!" Cliff objected. "Then what the fuck are you doing here with us?" "What do yu' mean?" Cliff asked. "Everyone's seen yu' with us now. You're one of us, like it or not." "You all like Moby?" Cliff tried to imagine all these guys taking young boys' innocence and trying to understand the love they claim, they give in return. "No way! He's worse than us." They laughed and Cliff knew to drop that theme. "Look, wait until tonight and we can talk - privately." Moby patted Cliff on the knee, then left the hand there. Cliff smiled and lashed his thighs back and forth. "Oh! Cliff's in for a right royal fucking tonight!" Jim declared. "You wanna know something?" Cliff looked him in the eye, "I fucking hope so." All eyes turned to Moby who sat there with a cheeky grin on his face. Cliff could see the spongy head inside the shorts, swelling, extending and travelling higher, up toward the waistband. He didn't try to hide it and none of the other men said a word, although every eye would flicker back, to watch its progress. One of Moby's hands rested on Cliff's thigh, unmoved. The other edged down to his shorts and lifted the elastic to allow the head to burst free. One or two hissed but said no word. Cliff licked his lips and looking up that beautifully muscular body to Moby's face, found the man beaming back, happy to see Cliff glad and thinking hotter thoughts than Cliff had the experience to create. Cliff let his hand drift toward Moby's middle, but it was brushed away. "Not here kid. Not here. Just look." Moby deliberately flexed his man muscle. It flipped, pushing the elastic up and forcing itself another inch out, into the fresh air. He distorted its length and width once more, by forcing a surge of blood into the crank. A drip of glue appeared outside the large eye, glistening in the sunlight. The Guards and all the men in the compound must have known where to fix their gaze, as the group of men all sat, turned to face Moby and heads bowed, in reverence to his massive weapon. Again and again he strained and heaved his dick muscles. Now, Cliff realized it was as hard as it was going to get without the intervention of someone's mouth or fingers. It perched easily, 4" outside the shorts, making it obvious to everyone, its massive length spanned over 11" and its diameter proclaimed a fertile wrist thick bulk. The globes of precum were gathering like warriors to a battle and now rushed over the crown, hung, drooled - then gave way, to fall onto his metal plate stomach. Except for these powerful rolls of sinew also flexing as the man become more potently aroused, to Cliff the abdomen looked like a chiseled Roman Centurion's armor - so defined - so perfectly sculpted. "Makes yu' wanna weep." Jim whispered. "I don't think young Cliff can wait." "He'll wait a year for it. Won't yu'?" Moby pressed a firm hand up the bulging shorts, force a spill out of his cock, that might equal many a man's full load. "Christ!" Cliff hissed, as he watched the stream gather into a pool, within a crease between stomach muscles. It was not clear, yet not milky white either - his pre-ooze was somewhere between the usual slime and the custard-cream broth. Thick, like spunk, rather than runny percolations from a steamy hot dick. "God Moby..." Cliff almost whimpered. "He'll wait." Moby repeated, as his fingers dipped into the puddle, gathering most onto the tips and as he cast an eye around the yard, quickly took it to his mouth and washed all the evidence away. "Hmm.." Returning, he wiped the last dribbles off his belly, ate it, then squeezed his tube free of more, straight onto fingertips and that too went. Only when all the proof was gone, did he drag his shorts over the end of his corpulent dick, where it remained contained, but under equal imprisonment, as were the men around him. There was silence for a full 5 minutes, then suddenly, as if nothing had broken their concentration, the men proceeded to chat about mundane things once again. More than a half an hour went by and Cliff sat there bored, milling over the time between now and lights out. If anything would drive him crazy, it would be these lengthy waits between his possible future pleasures. The sentence for him was to be - lack of freedom to do what he willing, when he wanted, with Moby. Nothing else. "I gotta go for a piss." Moby stood up slowly, arranging his shorts to make sure his dick didn't fall out anywhere. "Coming Cliff?" Cliff quickly got to his feet and followed behind like a panting puppy. Many of the men, who had been watching their group, turned to face the 2 men, as they walked by, giving them snarls and sharp teeth greetings. But Moby was used to this treatment and ignored it. Cliff wasn't quite so at ease. He hastened his steps and moved alongside Moby. Moby glanced to him and smiled, blowing him a quick kiss with his lips. They went into the toilet block door - the Guard giving them a look up and down, but could see Moby was hiding nothing in his scant shorts and thongs. He put out a hand and stopped Cliff. Then with both hands, gave the boy a frisking, taking his time when he reached between his thighs. Cliff knew why. His dick was thickening at the thought of being with Moby, alone, soon. The Guard hovered on his dick, then quickly pulled his hands away when he realised what he was packing there. Moby walked on, leaving Cliff alone. The Guard gave Cliff a strange look but stepped back to let him pass. When Cliff swung around the partition leading into the toilets, he found it empty. He stopped and looked around. Where could Moby have gone? He bent slightly to look along the row of cubicles but couldn't see those manly feet, slipped inside thongs. He ventured inside a little further but could see there was no hiding place. Then, around a cubicle wall, Moby popped his head. A hand beckoned Cliff across. Once Cliff reached the booth, he could see why Moby had disappeared. He was sitting on his haunches on the toilet bowl. His muscular thighs spread wide, but ankles drawn in, to rest on them. His shorts were all the way down to his knees and his giant dick was beginning to rise with each throb it gave. Moby had both arms back behind him, bolstering himself against the back wall. His powerful torso thrusting outward, to increase the command of his arching tower of steel. "Quick. Never get much time in here." Moby spoke softly, but more quickly than his urgent message. His dick pulsated in short small jerks, but before Cliff got closer, wrenched once, twice and a third time, with robust lurches that made his cock and belly clash over and over again. But Cliff reached out and stayed the convulsions with both hands. To feel its silky smooth, unrelenting iron under his fingers sent shocks of electricity to his brain and back down his spine, into his balls. He gasped and shook, buckling at the knees, as he fell forward, opening his lips as wide as possible. Not enough. The head crashed against them. He tried to open his mouth wider but as the massive cockhead slipped by them, they impacted on his teeth. Meanwhile, his own convulsions grew and he fought to free his cock from the prison blue pant. Hardly achieving this, and barely having forced more than a two inches of dick into his mouth, his untouched cock spewing spunk out over Moby's thighs. "Dirty little bugger!" Moby laughed. Cliff was shaking and trembling as his dick pumped his cum out onto the hairless thigh of Moby, as well as a lashing across his balls. Moby scooped up some of it and ate it. "Fuck! You spunk sure is sweet mate." Moby scooped up some more but this time he massaged it into the shaft of his own tool, right near the head. Dipping for more, on his balls, he also brought that up to his dick. He massaged it in and at the same time, used that massaging force to press his cock deeper inside Cliff's stretched jaws. The taste of his own cum reached his tongue, as his lips passed over that spot. It urged him and Moby started to pump the mouth a little more firmly. Bit by bit, Cliff absorbed an inch at a time until he had that giant, thick cock touching the back of his throat. "Swallow kid." Moby urged him to take it down into his throat. Cliff tried to swallow but the slug was just too big - he gagged. "Pretend its water. Drink me down." Cliff tried again to swallow and felt the head pop passed the back of his throat. The great pleasure of knowing he was taking such a massive dick inside his throat both frightened and excited him. "Umfp!!" Cliff objected. But Moby pressed harder, once he felt the tip of his cock slipping into the warmth of the throat beyond. He slid deeper and as he did, Cliff tried to breath but this only acted like swallowing again, sending much of the gigantic pole spearing into his guts. Moby's balls were almost within lip reach and his mass of jet black hair around the base of his tool were almost ready to tickle Cliff's lips too. Moby drew back slightly, further, then further again. Cliff was able to breath and as the cool air passed across Moby's dick, he thrust back inside, pushing further, then deeper, then finally, smashing his 12" dick completely inside, flattening his hairy loins hard against the tender, over worked lips. "See! You can do it!" Moby set out fucking that mouth and throat in a steady, slow rhythm. Each few seconds, he drove a little deeper, until he was squashing his balls against the dribble-coated chin, only to repeat the process, as he dragged himself back to staying just at the back of the throat. He worked on Cliff's mouth and throat this way for more than a few minutes, then once he withdrew to the throat again, he commenced short but quick stabs at the tonsils. "Don't mind me kid. I can hold out all day for you when we have the privacy." His pace quickened. "But I can shot when I want to." Like a hot dog up the cunt of a furious bitch, he rooted that mouth painfully, then let it pop. "Quick. Eat this up and there'll be more for you tonight." His balls emptied in hot, long but powerful bursts, filling Cliff's mouth, spilling from the edges of his spread lips and over his chin. "Here." Moby pulled all the way out, then squeezed his hard dick, forcing his spunk to bubble out the end. Cliff's tongue danced in the air, catching, then licking it away. Within minutes of going into the toilets, they were walking back toward the door and out into the yard again.