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Message-ID: <32547asstr$1000678203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Webster Dazell <webdazell@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Breaking The Arrangement 2 True b/b b/b
Date: Sun, 16 Sep 2001 18:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "BTA2" begin>

A note to readers:

Several of you have sent me e-mails asking if The
Arrangement/Breaking The Arrangement is really a true story.  It
is.  What you are reading about actually happened to me in the
late 60's.  Many of the details in the story are as sharp in my
memory today as when they first happened.  So as you read this
story remember, nothing important in this story is fiction. 

When I  started writing The Arrangement, I planned to do so in
three parts, each of which would have four to seven installments
(Shameless plug time: those of you missing any of The Arrangement
1-5 or Breaking The Arrangement 1 can find them at Nifty.org in
their gay male/high school archive, at assm.asstr-mirror.org or at
eroticstories.com's male/male archive site under author Web
Dazell).  Breaking The Arrangement 2 is the second  installment
of the second part of the story. 

Whether or not this story is ever completed is up to you.  If
you've liked this installment of a true story and think I should
continue to tell you about my adventures as a high school student
please let me know at webdazell@yahoo.com

Some of you might also like to know (if you don't already) I've
started another series of stories, the "Adventure" series.  The
first two stories in this series "I Sucked The Sheriff" and
"Devil With A Blue Dress On" have already been posted.  While The
Arrangement and Breaking The Arrangement are based on real events
in my life, my Adventure stories have no such restrictions. 
Although some of the stories may have a kernel of truth at their
heart, in the main they are pure fiction, a chance to stretch my
wings as an author and go where my lust and my imagination take
me. These stories are also available at the sites listed above

And now onto the story but remember it is YOUR email that
determines whether or not this story continues.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------

My name is Webster Dazell and this is a story about many things:
growing up in the Sixties, friendship, trust, hope,
disappointment, and, of course, sex.  Most of all it's the story
of a young man growing up on a farm in the nation's heartland
finding out just who and what he is.  It's my story.  I hope you
enjoy it.

Breaking The Arrangement 2: A continuation of a true story

Although I now live elsewhere, I grew up in a small farming
community in Wisconsin.

The main street in town was four blocks long with a traffic light
in the middle.  We had the same "Noah's Ark" collection of small
businesses you'd find in any rural village.  Mostly two story
buildings, two gas stations, two bars, two groceries, two
restaurants, two hardwares; well, you get the idea.  Some things
we only had one of.  One local weekly paper, one drug store, one
florist, one funeral parlor, and, as far as I knew, one teenage
boy who liked to suck cock, that being me.

Yeah, there could have been others, probably were.  But, if there
were, like me, they weren't advertising the fact. And neither was
anyone whose cock they were sucking.  Among the guys there were
the usual locker room boasts about getting a handful of bare tit
or a hand job or even a blow job but it was always from some
girl, never from another boy.  Everybody knew letting some faggot
gum your dick was just as bad as being a cocksucker.  No real man
would let something like that happen to them and every country
boy wants to be known as a real man.

Our friendship aside, that prejudice was why I felt I could trust
Evan not to tell anybody I was sucking his cock.  He had as much
to lose if our arrangement became public as I did.  As long as he
kept his mouth shut, I'd keep mine open.

The summer was nearly over when Evan told me the bad news.  "My
mom got a call from Aunt Audrey yesterday.  Ray is going to stay
with us for two weeks.  He'll be here Friday." I must have
groaned a little, OK a lot, because Evan said "Come on Web, it
won't be that bad."

"Yeah, right," I thought to myself. It wasn't that I didn't like
Ray, I did. A lot of  "city kids" looked down on us as poor,
unsophisticated "cow tippers." Ray didn't share their attitude.
When he was out to the farm he was one of us; getting up early to
help with the chores and hanging out with us after they were
done.

It was the hanging out with us part the caused me to react when I
heard Ray was coming. Since he'd be staying at Evan's house Ray
would be with Evan almost 24 hours a day, even sleeping in the
same room which ended any chance of my sleeping over. That meant
I'd be without cock for the next two weeks because, with Ray
omnipresent, the opportunities to slake my thirst would be zero.

For the first couple of days of Ray's visit, Evan made a game of
it, teasing me at every opportunity. Sometimes when Ray wasn't
looking he'd take my hand and rub it against his crotch or he'd
reach down the front of his pants and then rub his fingers
between my lips.  But, as time passed, Evan's frustration grew in
tandem with his lust and the games ceased.

"Man, Web I didn't think it was possible to get this horny," Evan
told me, taking advantage of Ray's use of the bathroom before
lunch. "I've had more wood than Weast's lumber yard. Right now my
dick hurts just looking at you. We've got to do something."

"What do you mean 'we' kemosabe? I'm not the one running around
with a hard-on."

"You are too you little bastard, I tell from the way you're
sitting."

"OK, maybe I am. But I can get rid of it by beating off. As soon
as Ray's done you can do the same. If you're so horny it
shouldn't take you more than a few strokes to get off. Hell, it
usually doesn't take you more than a couple of pumps anyway."

Evan's reply was cut short by the sounds of a toilet flushing and
the creak of the bathroom door opening. Scuttling sideways like a
crab to hide his erection, he practically sprinted into the
bathroom, almost bumping into Ray in the process.

"What's wrong with Evan?  Isn't he feeling good," Ray asked me as
he sat down at the table.

"His stomach's bothering him. I think he's got the runs. Should'a
skipped that second helping of bacon this morning."

"Ate something that didn't agree with him, huh? I'll bet you
never have that problem Web."

There was only a momentary hitch in the progress of my hand to
the sandwich below. Carefully watching Ray's face I replied,
"Nah, I get the runs all the time especially after I eat a plate
of my old man's fried pork and beans with bacon." Ray's
countenance remained as free of guile as an alter boy serving
mass. 

We worked harder than usual the rest of the day with one goal in
mind: get the chores done soon enough to allow us to go swimming
at Maxwell's pond, instead of Babcock Creek before spending the
rest of the evening working on Evan's car.

Maxwell's pond was forbidden territory for us. Located on a
nearby sod farm it offered a number of advantages the creek
didn't. No leeches for one, deeper water for another. The
disadvantage was its location on private property, property owned
by a man, Mr. Maxwell, who most definitely didn't want kids
swimming in it. The pond was used to irrigate the sod, period. No
swimming. No fishing. No nothing.

Normally we stayed away from Maxwell's pond. Too risky as
Maxwell's employees liked catching trespassers on the property.
Even if you avoided the workers there were always Maxwell's dogs
to worry about. But Ray was on the swim team at his school and,
swimming pools being a rich person's toy and so nonexistent in
farm country, we were determined to provide him with a better
venue for his skills than the creek.

We approached our trip to the pond like commandos readying to
sneak into Nazi Germany. Wearing our swimsuits under our clothes,
we rode our bikes into the woods that bordered the far end of the
sod farm. There we stripped down to suits and tennis shoes and
began to slowly make our way across the open field to the pond,
staying as low as we could to avoid being seen, even crawling in
some places when we thought we heard the sound of employees
further off.

A surprise awaited us once we reached our goal. A new six-inch
pipe had been run out of the pumphouse above the water to the
center of the pond where it made a 90 degree turn downward.
Anchored to the pipe where it entered the water was a small
floating platform. The platform, about 4 foot by 4 foot, was made
of wood, with barrels tied to three sides to provide floatation.
It rode about a foot out of the water.

Until now I haven't  given you much of a description of Ray.
Think the statute David, not Michelangelo's muscular, masculine
marble David but the less famous but equally male bronze David by
Donatello, a lithe, small-boned, willowy young shepherd almost
gangly in appearance, smooth in body yet with well-defined
muscles.  That was Ray.

Ray lacked the "farmer's tan" we had. His skin was a pale white,
almost ivory, the few short dun hairs on his arms and legs
looking like cracks in old china. His attractive face was thin
and pointed, all sharp angles giving him an elfin look minus the
ears of course. A close-cropped dusting of  bristly wheaten hair
decorated his scalp.

On land Ray was awkward like a novice dancer who's not quite sure
of the steps. But in his natural element Ray was grace itself, a
fluid water sprite who moved with the ease of an astronaut in
zero g. There was something sensuous about the way he swam, the
water parting with each strong, steady stroke as though opening
the way for its lover to join with it.

Our plan called for us to only spend 20 minutes swimming in the
pond, less chance of getting caught that way.  As we reached the
last 5 minutes Ray announced he was going to swim some laps from
one end of the pond to the other.  I was watching Ray cut through
the water when Evan tapped me on the shoulder.

"Now's our chance Web.  Blow me."  I looked at Ray like he was
nuts.

"I'm serious. Ray's going to be too busy doing laps to watch us
and I need to get off bad.  And I know how you can suck my cock
without being seen."

Now I was as hungry for Evan's cock as he was anxious to feed it
to me. So I asked what he had in mind. 

"Get under the float. There's plenty of room under there, I
looked while we were swimming. The whole side by the pipe is
open, there's no barrel there to get in the way.  If I get
partway off the platform my dick'll be just about an inch above
the water, right at mouth level for you. You blow me and I'll
watch out for Ray."

That's how I found myself under the platform with Evan's pecker
riding just above the waves. But his idea didn't work, at least
the way it was planned.  I couldn't tread water and keep Evan's
prick in my mouth. Every time I slid down on his cock the force
of my movement caused it to submerge. And if I hung on to the
underside of the platform my weight brought it lower in the water
with the same result.  What did work though was hanging on with
one hand while jacking Evan off with the other, giving his
Prussian helmet a lick and a kiss as often as I could.

Evan had just reached the crisis point when I caught a flash of
white out of the corner of my eye. As I involuntarily turned my
head to follow the movement I had seen, Evan shot nearly a week's
worth of pent-up passion all over my face, neck and shoulder.
This unexpected and, at least this time, unwelcome shower of
sperm coincided with a sharp rap on the head as Ray dolphined his
way out of the water and onto the float.

I love Evan but he's never been the fastest thinker in the world.
As I fumbled below to get his dick back in his swimsuit I could
hear him fumbling above to answer Ray's question about where I
was.

"Geeze, I don't know Ray. He was here just a minute ago."

"I don't see him anywhere. We better look for him. He could be in
trouble."

Before things got any more out of hand, I ducked under the water.
Swimming a yard or so away from the platform and trying to wash
off as best I could, I popped up to the surface long enough to
say "Man, this water is deep," before sinking back down again to
persist with my ablutions; I had globs and strings of come
hanging from me like I'd run into a spider's web.

After breaking the surface for the second time, I swam slowly
back to the float, using the butterfly stroke which allowed me to
continue to duck under the water to clean away the telltale signs
of my previous activity.

I guess I didn't do as good a job as I had hoped because after I
levered myself onto the float, I caught Ray checking out myface.

"What's the matter? What are you looking at," I said, a little
more querulous than I had intended.

"You've got some goop on your face, Web. It's in your eyebrow and
down the side of your face."

"Probably just snot. I got some water in my nose coming up from
the bottom."

"Yeh, probably is just snot," Ray said as he reached over to me,
scraping some off with his fingers before I could move away.
"Sort of thick for snot though," he opined as he rubbed his
coated fingers together.

"Hey man, I've got bad sinuses. Want to make something of it," I
asked in what I hoped was a teasing tone.

"Nope. I know getting water up your nose can be a bitch. First
time it happened to me at a meet, so much snot drained out, I
thought my head would collapse."

Evan's "Hey, guys," caught both our attentions. Turning our heads
in tandem, we saw his cupped hands flash toward us just before we
were hit with a spray of water.

"OK cousin, you asked for it. Let's get him Web."  In seconds a
water fight broke out, each of us splashing and hooting at the
others.  Ray and I had grabbed Evan and were just about to toss
him in the water when we heard someone else shouting.

"God damn you kids. You know you ain't supposed swimmin' in that
pond. Get the hell off of that and get over here."  It was one of
Maxwell's field hands and he was angry.

Well, we might be dumb but we weren't stupid. All three of us hit
the water at the same time, swimming to the shore opposite the
worker who had broken into a run.  Ray got there first but Evan
and I weren't too far behind the swim star.

All attempt at secrecy abandoned, we ran for the woods as fast as
we could. Having to swim to shore had allowed the man chasing us
to close the gap; we were now only about 30-35 yards ahead of
him.  But we were young and in shape while he was middle-aged and
used to riding around on tractors, not biking from place to
place. We gradually widened the distance between us until, when
we hit the fenceline, we were a good 70 yards ahead of him. 
After we cleared the wire he profanely gave up the pursuit.
warning us that if  "I ever fucken see you little shits around
here again, I'll set the dogs on your asses, you snot-nosed
bastards."

"Snot-nosed bastards huh? I think he's got us confused with you
Web," said Ray as we walked back to the bikes.

"Hey, I may be snot-nosed but my parents were married."

The ribbing and an analysis of the chase continued all the way to
the bikes, three friends relieving the tension of a close call
or, for some of us, two close calls. Throughout the banter I paid
close attention to Ray, on guard for any strange looks or double
meanings.  But he seemed to be the same old Ray.  If he knew what
I was up to at the pond he certainly wasn't letting on.

At the bikes we stripped out of our wet swimsuits before putting
our clothes back on; no sense in being damp and uncomfortable on
the way home. Evan and I had been nude together before and I knew
every inch of his body. But Ray's body was unfamiliar to me.  I
knew what most of him looked like but I had never seen him
without either a pair of pants, shorts or a swimsuit on. I admit,
despite my fears of being labeled a queer, I wanted to get a look
at his cock.

Ray made it easy for me. He was unconcerned about his nudity and,
since we'd forgotten to bring towels, announced he was going to
walk around a bit and dry off before he put his shorts on.  I
found myself stealing glances at him when I thought he wasn't
looking. But since he wasn't looking, he wasn't facing toward me
either so all I got was a glimpse of his side or a pair of
magnificent taunt young buttocks.  Then, as though he knew I was
watching, Ray took a deep breath and turned around. I felt my
breath catch in my chest.

It wasn't his semi-hard dick that made me gasp, although it was a
nice one. Nor was it his low hanging ballsack.  What took my
breath away was the fact Ray didn't have any public hair.  He was
as bare as a plucked chicken down there.

There was no mistaking the fact that Ray saw where I was looking
because he blushed, his cheeks imitating a Wisconsin sunset. When
he spoke to me, there wasn't even a hint of sexual innuendo in
his words, just a hint of embarrassment and a touch of a plea for
understanding.

"Hey Web, I know it looks funny but don't laugh. Coach has all
his swimmers shave the hair off their bodies, even around our
dicks. He says the hair won't act as a drag in the water and
we'll get faster times that way. Even if it's only a tenth of a
second, a tenth of a second can be the difference in a close
race."

"Yeah but you've got hair on your arms and your legs and your
head," I said, stating the obvious while I pulled my eyes up from
his groin to his scarlet face.

"That's because its summer. When school starts in fall I'll shave
the hair off my arms and legs. Coach wanted us all to shave our
heads but the principal said no way."

"So why not wait until fall to shave your pubes?"

"You ever shaved yours?"

I shook my head no, although now that I'd seen Ray's shorn crotch
I was thinking about it. He looked sexy as hell and only the
thought of Ray finding out for sure I was a cocksucker kept from
throwing a boner right there and then.

"I didn't think so or you wouldn't have asked. When the hair
grows back after you've shaved it itches like a son-of-a-bitch.
And until it gets to its original length it scratches too. So all
of us on the swim team keep shaved year-round."

I nodded my head in acknowledgment.  "I guess that makes sense."

"Thanks. And Web, please don't tell anyone about this. Evan knows
because I'm rooming with him. The guys on the swim team know
because they all do it too. My dad knows, I don't know if he told
my Mom or not. I sure hope he didn't. Now you know.  But I don't
want anyone else to know all right?"

"Jeeze dickweed, who the hell am I going to tell.  I don't know
anybody else from your school. I'm not going to tell my folks or
Evan's folks and I'm sure not going to tell anybody from my
school. For one thing I wouldn't want to even begin to tell them
how I knew."

"Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.It's our secret right,"
Ray asked looking deeply into my eyes.

"Right." I responded looking right back at him.

"You two weenies sure you don't want to cut each other's fingers
and mingle the blood to seal the oath," asked Evan, startling us
both since we hadn't noticed he was there. "Maybe go out to the
graveyard tonight, light some black candles, sacrifice a rooster
and offer up your souls to the devil if you break the pact?"

"I don't know Ray what do you think? Maybe it'd be more effective
if we sacrificed Evan instead of a rooster?"

"I don't know. I've always heard sacrifices to Satan are more
effective if you use intelligent animals. That gives the edge to
the rooster."

"Hardi-har-har. Come on, let's get going. It's almost time for
supper and I still want to work on the Evanmobile tonight. Couple
of losers, I don't even know why I let you hang around with me."

Evan gave me hell once we got back to his house.  "You really are
a faggot aren't you?  Why didn't you just drop to your knees and
beg Ray to let you suck his cock instead of just giving him the
eye?"

"Was I that obvious," I asked, concerned the answer would beyes.

"Let's see, at the pond you had sperm all over your face.  In the
woods you stared at his dick like a kid at a candy store just
dying to take a lick of that peppermint stick. One the ride home
your eyes never left his ass. Nope you weren't obvious at all, if
Ray was blind, which he ain't."

"Well, it was your fault I was covered in come, your come I might
point out. You were supposed to keep watch for him. 'Don't worry
Web,' you said, 'I'll watch out for Ray.' Good job there
asshole."

"All right, calm down. You've got a point. I'm sorry about not
seeing him but I was getting ready to shoot and he was
underwater. I didn't see him until he started to get on the
platform. But you're right. We're both at fault here. We'll just
have to hope Ray's particularly dense and we'll have to be more
careful next time."

"Next time my ass Evan. There ain't going to be any next time
until Ray goes home."

"Come on man, you need to blow me just as much as I need to be
blown. We'll just have to be more careful next time."

"And next time won't be until Ray is back at home. I'm not taking
any more chances," I told Evan and I meant it.

Evan seemed to take my decision in stride. Although he hinted at
how horny he was; how much he missed my lips caressing his cock,
he never pushed too far. And there things stood until Ray's last
night at the farm.

The Beaver Outdoor Theatre (Yes, it was really called the Beaver
Outdoor Theatre) was having a dusk to dawn "Horrorthon." The
first feature was "Castle of Evil," followed by "Women of the
Prehistoric Planet/Frozen Dead/Queen of Blood" and ending with
"Zontar, Thing From Venus." We thought it'd be cool as hell to
stay up all night watching the movies and then go out an get a
big greasy breakfast down the road, a perfect way to send Ray
back to the city. 

The only blemish on the plan was the Evanmobile's condition. Its
carburetor was still a pile of jumbled parts on the workbench,
victim of a lack of time to finish the job. The only other
transportation available to us was the farm's Dodge panel truck,
hardly the boss ride we wanted to be seen in. Still beggars can't
be choosers and even the truck was better than our bikes. That
would really have been candyassed. Besides we were too jazzed
about the Horrorthon to really worry about what we were driving.

With WOKY blaring out of the speakers we set off, windows cracked
enough to let in some air but still keep out the dust until we
hit the highway. We sang along to Wild Thing and Lil'  Red Riding
Hood; argued about who was better the Beatles or the Stones (with
Ray holding out for the Beach Boys); bitched about the Braves
abandoning Milwaukee for Atlanta; made plans to go up to Lambeau
and score some tickets for a game because the Packers were going
to have another badass season. "The greatest team in football
history, man."

After the usual car search at the ticket booth to make sure we
weren't smuggling anyone in without paying, we drove into the
Beaver carefully contemplating where to park. It wasn't just
about having a good view of the screen. You wanted to stay away
from the passion pit in the back rows, otherwise theatre
employees would be shining their flashlights into your car all
night. Too close to the front where the playground was and you'd
have parents walking past you all night dragging crying children
in pajamas back and forth to the bathrooms.

That was another consideration. You wanted to be close enough to
the concession stand for a quick trip there and to the john but
far enough away to be out of the constant traffic. As Rick said
in Casablanca when asked for a table close to Sam and away from
Major Strasser "The geography's a little difficult but I think we
can manage."  We settled on a spot to the right and several rows
behind the concessions stand, on the opposite side of the
bathrooms.

Once we reached our spot we fired up the PIC coil to keep the
bugs away and waited for the movies to start. As it got dark we
broke out the Pabst. Besides drinking the lukewarm beer we passed
around a bottle of rum; the rule being every time a character
bought it in the film we all had to take a swig.  By the end of
Castle of Evil none of us were feeling any pain and, to give us a
better chance of lasting the night, we decided to suspend the
rule for the remainder of the movies.  But we continued to suck
down the Pabst although at a much slower pace.

About midway through Women of the Prehistoric Planet, Ray loudly
announced he was going to the restroom and he might be a little
while.  Evan and I both chuckled at Ray's obvious state of
semi-intoxication but, because he could still follow our fingers
with his eyes and walk upright, we let him out of the truck.

Ray had only been gone for a minute when Evan sidled over to me
and placed my left hand on his throbbing pecker. "Come on
cocksucker. I've waited long enough. Get in the back of the
truck."

I wanted to argue but I couldn't. Evan was right; he had waited
long enough and so had I. I needed his cock as bad as he wanted
to feed it to me.  

Climbing over the back of the bench seat, I spread both of the
blankets used for padding the wall over the floor of the truck.
As I worked to prepare our makeshift boudoir, I told Evan to make
sure the front windows were rolled up and the doors were locked.
I made sure the side and back doors to the truck were locked
myself. With the only windows in the truck located up front,
you'd have to climb up on the truck and look through the top of
the windshield to see us on the floor. Anyone walking by would
simply see an empty front seat

Evan and I must have set land speed records for stripping off our
clothes. As I positioned myself between his legs, Evan's dick
beat about like a blind man's cane. Without any hesitation I went
down on him, burying my nose in his public hair with a single
lightning motion that bruised my throat when his head struck the
back.  I didn't care. Evan's flat, ripe thick-veined cock was
back where it belonged, in my mouth. 

Without finesse I plunged up and down on his rod, my hands
caressing his body, squeezing his balls. No frills, no teasing,
just the most direct approach possible to coaxing his sperm from
his balls to my stomach.

Evan's profane instructions spurred me to an even faster pace.

"Tighter you little cocksucker. Wrap those lips around that dick.
Eat me you little faggot. Suck out that cream."

As his groin tried to rise from the floor of the truck my head
descended to push it back down again.  This was pure physical
sex, a sprint not a marathon,  the wildest coupling we had ever
had. I was sucking Evan as though my soul's salvation depended on
it. 

Then, behind me,  I heard the truck door open and close.

For a moment I tried to stop, to drag myself off the tower of
flesh I was devouring, to scramble for some sort of cover, to
find some way of denying what I was doing. But Evan's hands not
only held me in place, they kept me moving, pulling me up and
down his pole.

"Come on Web, I'm almost there. Suck me you little bastard. Never
mind Ray. Get me off."

Again I was overcome by my desire, restraint falling off me like
leaves from the trees in the fall. I returned to my personal
universe and began to revolve again around Evan's cock.

Now my approach changed. Time was no longer an impediment to
artistry. If I was going to put on an exhibition, showcase my
talents, I'd do it right.

Ignoring Ray's presence for the moment,  I began to lick up and
down Evan's thick hard sex. Broad strokes, the flat of my tongue
covering the flat surface, overlapping the sides. I bathed his
balls in my mouth sucking until the distended skin of his scrotum
resembled a stretched piece of Silly Putty.  My hands massaged
his ribcage, twisting his nipples back and forth.

I returned to my station, slowly enveloping the head if his cock
with my lips then quickly pulling off.  A serpentine tongue tip
darting forth to squirm its way between the fleshy halves of his
glans, jabbing at his pisshole, tasting the seminal fluids as
they oozed forth.

I rotated my way down his rod like a red stripe coiling its way
down a barber's pole, my tongue moving the skin as it passed, my
cheeks collapsed by the force of my vacuuming inhalation. I
scraped with my teeth on the upstrokes my hands now cupping
Evan's ass, raising it from the quilted brown pads lining the
floor.

Guiding him with my body, I moved Evan around so his head was
pointed at the front of the truck. I was under no misapprehension
about what would follow this performance. Ray's would be the
third cock I had ever sucked and I wanted to get him primed by
giving him a better view of the floor show.

Now I went to work in earnest, my goal to get Evan off in a
spectacular fashion and move on to Ray. I increased the speed and
intensity of my sucking imitating a calf feeding from its
mother's teat. Evan's thighs began to move toward his groin and
then away, always a sign he was getting close to coming.  His
instructions to me were turning into unintelligible grunts. It
wouldn't be long now.

When I felt sperm beginning to climb up Evan's dick I pulled off,
positioning my wide open mouth about two inches from the head of
his cock, my tongue extended to serve as a platform for his
creamy offering.  Preceded by a load intake of breath, Evan's
come spurted from the head of his dick.  Four separate jets of
sperm flung themselves across the void to splatter themselves
into the waiting receptacle of my oral cavity.

As Evan regained his breath, my hands milked the last of his
juice from his wilting flesh onto my tongue. As protocol demanded
I kept my lingual member extended allowing its pearlescent
coating to be observed before I swallowed.  But, head held high,
I showed my obedience not to Evan but to Ray.  Ray who had
watched wide-eyed as I sucked Evan and was even now focused on my
face.

I swallowed and Ray's eyes traced the passage of Evan's sperm
down my throat. Even in the dark of the truck I could tell Ray's
face was flushed, his breathing hurried. Playing it as cool as I
could, I grabbed three Pabsts and told Ray since the church key
was up front he'd have to open these.

"So Evan, did you forget to lock the door or what," I asked,
sitting up as he climbed back into his clothes.

"Yeah man I guess I did, sorry," Evan said, not sounding sorry at
all.

"Tell him the truth cousin," said Ray. "You tell him or I will."

"No, lemme guess," I said, still trying to play it cool despite
the fact my spent passion was being replaced by a smoldering
resentment at Evan's cavalier attitude. The reality of the
situation was coming home to me. I was set up and I wasn't at all
happy about it.

"You broke the arrangement. You told Ray I was a cocksucker, that
I sucked your cock. Then you told him if he played his cards
right you'd get me to suck his cock too. Tonight, at the movies.

"That's why you didn't finish rebuilding the carburetor. That way
we'd have to take this truck. You knew I'd never suck you off in
your car at the theatre. Along side the road maybe where people
weren't always passing by but not in a crowded theatre." I was
really getting worked up now, the feeling of being doublecrossed
by my best friend as painful as a deep cut. Yes, I wanted to suck
Ray's cock but I wanted it to be my choice, not to be tricked
into it

"That whole thing about Ray having to go to the john was just a
setup. You left the door unlocked so he could get back in and
watch. And now you expect me to suck his cock." 

"Sumthin like that."

"Not something like that, exactly like that."

"No, it's not like that,"  said Ray in an anxious voice.

"Shut up Ray. As for you Evan, I thought we were friends. I
thought we had a deal. I trusted you not to tell anyone. You
betrayed me, man." By now I was surprised to find myself nearly
in tears. 

"No, I didn't," said Evan in a stony voice. "You betrayed
yourself.

"Face the facts. I didn't break the arrangement. I never told old
man Grambs you were a dicklicker. He caught you at it. And when
he threatened you, you didn't have to suck his cock. You could
have told him to go to hell. We both know he wouldn't have told
my grandmother because we would have told on him; that he tried
to get a white teenage boy to suck his cock. Even after you blew
him in the basement, you sure didn't have to go over to his
apartment the next day and suck him off again. You blew him
because you wanted to, because you enjoy having a dick between
your lips. You blow me for the same reason.

"I didn't tell Ray anything. He figured it out all on his own.
Hell, it wasn't even the day at the pond that did it. He saw you
the day before in the barn loft when you jacked off into your
hand and then ate it. I didn't have to say a word you moron he
knew. All the come on your face from the pond was just the
frosting on the cake. 

"Take a good look at yourself buddy. You're a cocksucker. It's
not what you do Web, it's what you are, as much a part of you as
being smart and funny.  I don't think it's sumthin you can do
anything about. And I don't think there's anything wrong withit.

"Me, I'm not a cocksucker. Sure, I like having you blow me.  It
feels good to get off in your mouth. And, OK, maybe I have been
using you, but can you deny you like being used? Hell you've told
me often enough how much it turns you on.

"That shit about being friends. Damn it Web, we are friends.  You
still don't know how good of friends we are, but you will. Our
friendship isn't about sex. We've been friends since you were six
and I was seven. It doesn't rise or fall on whether or not you
suck my dick.  But I'm your friend man, not your boyfriend. And
you need to keep that straight in your mind.

"I like girls Web, not guys, girls. If I could get Mary Elizabeth
or some other good looking chick to do what you do, no offense
but you'd never get close to my dick again. This is all temporary
for me. I thought you knew that.

"I'm goin' to the concession stand, no shit this time. I'll
probably be gone a half hour or so. Think about what I've said
Web. As your friend I'm tellin ya you havta come to grips with
who you really are, otherwise your whole life is gonna be totally
fucked up."

For the second time that night I heard the truck door open and
close, leaving me to wonder whether or not the door had been shut
on my longest friendship as well.

I was barely aware of Ray crawling over the seat to join me in
the back.  Oblivious to almost everything, I might as well have
been one of the zombies up on the screen until Ray handed me the
bottle of rum and told me to take a swig. The harsh burn of the
alcohol sloshing down my throat reset my awareness of where I was
and I took a second to anchor me in position.

"Heavy night," said Ray, sliding next to me on the floor before
taking a hit from the bottle himself.

"Yeh, heavy."

"Not the evening I expected."

"Me, neither."

For awhile there was silence as my thoughts slithered in my mind
like snakes after mice.  What the hell was I so upset about?
Why'd I make such a fuss, throwing a hissy fit like an overtired
toddler?  I was a cocksucker.  I did like to suck cock. I had
given myself over to both Evan and Mr. Grambs to act as their
submissive cocksucker and enjoyed it. And I wanted to suck Ray's
cock, had wanted to suck it even before it seen it in its fully
shorn glory in the woods. Why were the doubts about what I was
doing returning?

Maybe it was because I now knew why I often felt such a void
after I'd finished draining a cock. Evan's little speech had
brought it home to me. I'd been a handy mouth, a convenient
receptacle for slaking a person's lust when a willing woman
wasn't available. "Let's try Web. He'll eat us anytime." 

It wasn't me they wanted; as a person I was only incidental to
what was going on. They'd have been satisfied with anyone who'd
suck them off. It was release they wanted, a momentary relief
from their horniness. I didn't matter at all. Subconsciously I'd
known that even while, like any teenager, I wanted more, wanted
to be cared about, wanted to matter. And all the sperm in the
world in the world couldn't fill that empty spot inside me, it
only increased the sense of being  alone.

Again it was Ray who brought me out of my trance, this time by
slipping his left arm around my shoulders, the warmth of his skin
making mine tingle with electricity.

"Web, Evan was telling you the truth. He didn't tell me about
you. At least not until after I told him what I'd seen. I saw you
in the barn and I saw you under the raft with my cousin's dick in
your mouth, not just with some come on your face.  When I told
all that to Evan he still didn't say anything to me; at least not
until I told him."

"Told him what, that you'd seen us and you wanted some headtoo?"

"Nope, told him that I liked sucking cock too." 

My heart jumped like a frightened rabbit. Did I hear Ray right?
Did he just tell me he liked sucking cock too?

Any question about my auditory ability was answered as Ray
brought his right hand to my semi-tumescent dick. His grasp was
warm and comforting; his hand, conditioned from hours in the
water, as soft as velvet.  As he began to stroke me to full
erection his mouth lowered itself onto my right nipple gently
laving it with his tongue, rolling it to and fro with his lips.

Ray kissed his way down my torso until his questing mouth
replaced his fingers. My head lolled to the side, mouth open, my
breath whistling though the oral cavern. My god, the sensation of
being sucked, sucked for the first time in my life, was almost
hallucinatory.  I marveled at the slick feel of his cheeks as
they rubbed against my cock, the warmth and wetness of it all,
the feel of lips sliding urging me to spend.  No wonder Evan and
Mr. Grambs liked it when I did it to them. Never mind jacking
off, this was fantastic.

Unexpectedly overwhelmed by the ecstasy of these new sensations I
came without warning, flooding Ray's mouth with sperm, adding to
the fluids already puddling there. My first shot was followed by
another then another and yet another, a seemingly endless stream
of jizz called forth by Ray's ministrations. Finally I was done,
the last drops dribbling from the end of my member onto the
ridges of Ray's lips.

As I helped Ray get out of his clothes my chest tightened like
wet rawhide in the sun. I knew that what was taking place in the
truck was more than sex, went deeper than two young boys
exchanging furtive blow jobs in the dark.

Shyly I took Ray's head between my hands and slowly pulled it
toward me, giving him an opportunity to move away.  When he
didn't I brought my lips to his; at first softly then with
increasing force. He opened his mouth to mine and our tongues
met. weaving about like a pair of dueling sabres. I could taste
the flavor of my sperm in his mouth, bright and sharp with the
coppery bite of a newly minted penny.

I was frightened when I reached his cock, my body shaking like a
tractor in a rutted field. I wanted this to be as close to
perfect as possible, to give Ray the best experience of his short
lifetime, to make his body shake as mine was but from ecstasy not
fear. What should I do? What does he like?

In the end I abandoned fancy technique in favor of simplicity and
sincerity.

With the tip of his cock balanced on the edge of my lips I began
to explore it with my tongue, probing slowly into the crevice of
his glans. I licked my way around the velvety mushroom, swiping
up the precome as it seeped out from his dick and swallowing, the
constriction of my cheeks squeezing the head open and increasing
the flow.

I took my first mouthful of Ray's cock, my lips sliding just
underneath the rim of his penile helmet. After rotating my head
for a few moments, I returned to the tip again brushing my tongue
around its surface. Opening my mouth wider, I took about a third
of his length into me, sliding up and down at a leisurely pace,
continuing my exploration of his prick as it commuted back and
forth in my mouth.  

After a couple of minutes I pulled off entirely, pressing Ray to
a fully prone position and spreading his legs as wide as I could.
 Denuded of public hair, Ray's groin resembled that of a
pre-pubescent boy but there was nothing prepubescent about the
proud boner that stood at stiff as a tire iron from the apex of
his crotch.

While my hand played with Ray's cock, my primary attention turned
to the wrinkled scrotum pulled tightly against his rod, so
responsive to the feathery puffs of breath I directed against it.
 As I glossed its furrowed surface with a coating of my saliva
Ray began to moan and squirm and my palm was covered from a fresh
bubbling of precome.

Ray rocked his head back and forth on the pad as I returned to
sucking his cock, this time driving it deep into my throat, my
nose lightly tickled by the slight shadow of stubble left from
the morning shave. Ray's groan grew deeper and more urgent; his
mounting excitement spurring me on to more aggressive efforts.

I shuttled Ray's prick in and out of my mouth, my lips as tight
to his prick as a leech. One hand massaged his balls while the
index finger of the other outlined the circumference of his
asshole, pressing until his rosebud distended inward; 
threatening to, but never quite, breaking the tension of the
ring.  Ray reacted to my twin efforts by beginning to thrust
upward, seeking the more distant cavern of my throat.

Then he took charge, his hands grasping the side of my head,
almost hurting me from the pressure they exerted against my
skull. Picking up speed with every intrusion, he pushed his
hardness down, dragging it back again across the flat expanse of
my tongue only to thrust it back down with his next motion.

I began to twirl my tongue as best I could around his prick as it
sawed its way in and out of my mouth, intent on coaxing a
toe-curling orgasm from my friend and lover. Even as he came Ray
continued to push my head up and down on his cock, breaking the
seal of my lips and allowing his come to leak from the corners of
my mouth.  Despite the spilled sperm, I had more than a mouthful
to swallow and swallow I did; this time without the subservient
gesture of showing a coated tongue.

Even before I could complete cleaning up the liquids puddled
around Ray crotch,  I found myself lifted upward and gathered
into Ray's arms. His lips crushed themselves against mine; our
tongues reinstituting their interrupted duel; our hands roaming
like lost sheep along the hills and valleys of each other's
bodies.

Finally, knowing that Evan would be back soon, we broke off our
embrace and dressed, still tangled in the crystalline
breathlessness of what had just occurred, allowing our mutual
silence to speak for us.
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