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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Wicked People? {Varkel} (bF+ bM+ bm bf oral anal pedo first) [2/9]
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Date: Wed, 07 Nov 2007 08:10:03 -0500
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Wicked People?

a Novelette by Varkel
Fall, 2007



Chapter 2: _Sammy Plays a Few Holes_


Something was pushing at his lips in the darkness.  When he parted them
a bulbous thing pushed into his mouth.  He started to bite down on it 
but realized in time that it was the head of a cock.  A nice one too!  
He sucked in two inches of the shaft.  Why not?  This was hardly the 
first one he had tasted.  He wished, not for the first time, that he 
could render this service to his own cock but had learned as a teenager
that his inadequately flexible back --  Wait a moment!  Lips had 
enclosed him also.  He felt suction and the rasp of a tongue.

My god, this is wonderful: I'm sucking my own cock!  I can actually do 
it!  Oh, god, I'm coming in my own mouth!

His orgasm bridged sleep and wakefulness.  The ecstatic pleasure was 
real enough.  Suddenly awake, Bernie realized first that his own mouth 
contained only a dry tongue.  The darkness was an illusion of his dream.
Snapping his eyes open, he discovered Sammy crouched between his legs.
It was Sammy's sucking mouth into which he had spewed.  He glared down 
at the pretty boy whose eyes smiled up at him.  At that moment Sammy 
raised his head and took the last ejaculate on his chin.  Much more was
evident within the still open mouth.

It was the sober morning, when consequences are most appreciated.  
Bernie yelled, "What the fuck are you up to?"

Sammy wiped his lips and chin with the back of a hand.  His larynx 
bobbed in a swallow.  "Isn't it fun?  I still can't believe how good it
was last night."

Bernie glared at him.  "How good what was?"

"What Millie did to me."

When the uncle only stared, Sammy said defensively, "You said last night
that friends please each other.  Aren't we friends, Uncle Bern?"

The man heaved a sigh.  "I'm sorry, Sammy, for my ingratitude.  Go clean
yourself up.  Brush your teeth then come back here.  We have to talk."

In the boy's absence Bernie rose, relieved bowels and bladder and 
brushed away his morning breath in the adjacent bathroom, pleased that 
the expected hangover had not materialized.  He was sitting naked on the
side of the bed, going over golfing plans, when Sammy returned, equally
naked and redolent of toothpaste.  The boy sat beside him and snuggled 
smooth chest against virile hairiness.  Bernie threw an arm around the 
lad and lay back affectionately, pulling the young head down on his 
shoulder.  Hesitantly he caressed a soft back and round butt cheek.

"Have you done this before?" he asked.  "Not only is crawling in a 
sleeping man's bed rather bold, you gave a neat blow job."

"Just once, Uncle Bern.  Last night.  Don't you remember?"

The evening's  half-drunk experience flashed into his mind.  The boy had
sucked his cock but had not excited him.  Now he had finished the job.
Suddenly Bernie was aware of the flaccid cock pressed to his hip.

He took a breath.  "You don't do that with many guys, son.  If you want
that kind of game, you have to choose your partners carefully."

"You're my uncle.  Isn't it all right?"

"I suppose so, Sammy, with me, but you can't tell anyone, particularly 
not your mother.  She wouldn't understand, and she'd become very upset.
Can you keep secrets?"

"Sure, Uncle Bern.  It's fun having secrets."

"Don't tell her about Millie either."

Bernie was conflicted.  He held a virtually hairless boy of respectable
size in his arms, an androgynous one of remarkable beauty, easily 
perceived from the rear as a pubescent girl.  He had derided queers all
his life, yet his cock had risen again as he embraced the naked lad, who
had no idea of proper male behavior and seemed open to any suggestion.
More than that, the boyish hand was now exploring the avuncular scrotum.

What the hell, he thought.  Who would know in any case?  The situation 
seemed _sui generis_.  He rolled Sammy onto his back and they grinned at
each other.

"I suppose you and Millie enjoyed yourselves after I went to bed."

"It was awesome, Uncle Bern.  I never even guessed about such things."

Bernie placed a hand on the boy's prominent left nipple then ran it down
the chest and soft belly to enfold the cock unusually large for a lad, 
now soft in half-arousal.

"We could do things too, Sammy," he said.

"Some of them, I guess."

"I wouldn't mind if you prefer Millie."

"Well ..."  As if in answer the boy again caught the man's firm cock.

"I see you know the advantage of a bird in hand."

Sammy pulled on Bernie's pubic hair and giggled.  "Worth two in the 
bush?"

"At least.  Did Millie call it a bush?"

"No.  It's like a metaphor."

"Indeed it is!  Brace yourself.  I'm going to kiss you like a girl."

For the first time in his life Bernie kissed another male on the lips.
Starting gently, it soon became urgent and passionate with tongues 
engaged.  The boy withdrew with wide eyes.

"Like that?" asked Bernie.

"Wow!"

With a chuckle Bernie tasted down the boy's flesh toward a waiting, 
fully erect cock of adult proportions.  Despite the awareness of guilt 
and betrayal of masculinity, he engulfed the organ, sucked and tongued 
it with an eagerness and delight that surprised him.  _I'm not queer_, 
he insisted inwardly.  _Sammy is pretty as a girl.  But a girl doesn't 
possess a cock_, another voice intoned in his head.  Yet he persisted, 
wanting to excite the lovely boy and taste his discharge.  But when 
Sammy bucked and squeaked, the emission that coated his tongue was 
meager and watery.  The boy pushed his head away.  He swallowed and 
licked the sleek thighs.

"This is our secret," he whispered as the boy fell back in relaxation.

"Sure, Uncle Bern.  I won't tell anyone."

"You surprised me."

"Me too.  I didn't expect to come."

"Why not?"

"The last time I tried to do it, it wouldn't."

"You mean --  When was that?"

"When I brushed my teeth this morning."

"How did you try?"

Sammy rose up enough to pump the man's organ briefly.  "Like that."

"And it wouldn't come?  How long have you been doing it?"

"All night."

Bernie huffed incredulously.  "Do you mean Millie showed you how?"

"Uh-huh.  And when I went back to bed it worked great."

"'Great,' eh?"

"Well, not so good as sucking or fucking.  I wanted it to last forever."

"Ah, you poor lad!  You've discovered one of life's great tragedies."

"I have?"

"The more you try to come, the harder it is to get.  I'm speaking of one
right after the other.  You have to learn to wait awhile."

"But it worked when you sucked me just now."

"Yeah.  That's what surprised me.  It _barely_ worked.  A young guy like
you should've nearly filled up my mouth."

"Oh."

Bernie cocked his head, studying the lad lying back before him.  "But 
you don't always have to come to enjoy sex."

"You don't?"

"Did you do anything with Millie besides let her suck your cock?"

"Yeah, I licked her where she'd have one of her own if she was a man."

"What else?"

"I put it in between her legs.  Oh god, that was awesome!  That's where
I squirted the most.  It was still full when she made me lick."

"That was your first climax, was it?"  Uncle shook his head.  "I'll bet
not one boy in ten thousand squirts into a pussy the first time."

"A pussy?  That's a cat."

"It's also another name for that female hole we love."

"Why don't most boys start with it?"

"Because jacking off is too easy."

"Jacking --  Oh."

They spent the rest of the morning in bed together, kissing and sucking.
Bernie fingered the youthful rosebud and encouraged the boy to explore 
the man's, explaining that men and boys could fuck each other there.  
Despite powerful temptation, he refrained from the demonstration, 
limiting himself to rubbing his cock up and down between Sammy's butt 
cheeks and eventually spewing onto the sleek back.  

After a couple of hours they were sated and thought of other things to 
do.

"How about golf?" Bernie asked.  "Did you ever play?"

"No.  Will you teach me?"

He kissed the boy again, intoxicated by his beauty.  "Yeah, sure.  We'll
go out to the course this afternoon.  But then we'll be in public.  No 
grab-ass in public."

"How about grab-cock?" asked the bright lad, demonstrating.

"Easy!  That's what I mean.  Men shake hands or if they're good friends,
clap each other on the shoulder, but no touching otherwise in public.  
Do you understand?"

Sammy sighed.  "I guess."  Suddenly he bent forward, kissed the man's 
flaccid organ and backed away with a twinkle.  "Your cock just tastes so
good!"

"God, you're as bad as Millie!"


* * *


Bernie pulled the golf bag from the trunk on his car.  Because he was a
serious player, each club was covered with a sock.

"I like snooty country clubs, Sammy," he said with a sly grin, "and this
one suits me fine, even if it only has nine holes.  The trustees put 
their money in amenities and shade trees instead."

"It smells nice," the boy observed, breathing deeply.

"They recently cut the grass, I suppose."

"What do you mean by _snooty_?"

"I mean they keep out the straight-laced stiff-necks that have a cow 
when somebody else has fun.  Memberships are out of sight these days."

The boy stared, obviously not comprehending.

Bernie chuckled.  "You'll see as you get older.  Come along to the golf
wing.  We'll get you some clubs and a golf cart.  I don't like to walk."

In T-shirts and shorts, the man's legs dark with hair, the boy's 
hairless and untanned, they walked from the nearly empty parking lot 
past the first tee to an open-front building with a neatly painted sign,
_Golfer Support_, and golf carts parked outside.  Behind it a covered 
passageway connected to a much larger two-story building.

The man on the tee, whose principal job was scheduling players, ogled 
Sammy's legs as they passed.  "Jesus!" he exclaimed quietly.

Bernie heard him and following his eye, cast the man a deep frown.

A woman, familiar even in tank top and bermudas, stood behind the 
counter in the concession.

"Millie!" yelled the boy in happy surprise.

"What do you guys need?" she asked, looking only at Uncle Bern.

"A set of clubs for the boy and a golf cart," the man said, his face 
blank as the woman's.

"Millie?" Sammy repeated in confusion.

"Just two of you?" she asked Bernie, still offering no recognition.

"Right."

She worked the cash register and announced, "The greens fee is $53.50."

Sammy brightened.  "What's the 3.50 for?" he asked his uncle.

Bernie handed her three twenties and while awaiting the change, 
answered, "To take care of the state."

"The state?"

"You never heard of taxes?"

Sammy had heard the word.  "One of the things Benjamin Franklin said was
certain?"

Handing the change across, Millie unbent enough to sniff and say, "You'd
think somebody would be smart enough to fix that in 300 years."

"Better give it another 300."  Bernie pulled a scuffed bag of clubs from
the stand and passed it to the boy.  They exited the building without 
further exchange with Millie.

"I don't understand, Uncle Bern," Sammy said as they strolled to the 
tee.  "She didn't even smile at us."

"We pretend not to know each other while she's at work.  Her husband 
runs this place."

"Her _husband_?"

Uncle chuckled.  "Isn't she your idea of a wife, Sammy?  I should've 
said her _legal_ husband."

"Can you have more than one?"

"Haven't you noticed?  Millie is just about _any_body's wife."

"Oh!"  The boy's eyes widened in contemplation.

They reached the tee.  The starter, a partly bald, slim fellow slightly
taller than Bernie, wearing argyles and knickers, announced, "There's no
one ahead of you.  You're up."

"Keeping you busy, Jarrett?" asked Uncle Bern ironically.  The man 
looked away.

The first hole was a 240 yard par four with a dog leg to the right.  
Bernie removed the sock from his driver, set tee and ball and took a 
couple of practice swings.  At last he addressed the ball seriously, 
moving the club back and forth, and swung powerfully, hooking the ball 
into deep rough less than one hundred yards down the fairway.

"Shit!" he cried.

Sammy exclaimed, "Wow, it really went far!"

Bernie scowled but said nothing.  He set the tee and ball for his 
nephew.

"Just whack it," he instructed.

Sammy, grinning, emulated his uncle and tried an awkward practice swing.
Then at the ball he swung three times and missed consistently.

"Aim lower," Bernie advised.

Sammy did so and struck the earth behind the ball, which dribbled off 
the tee.

"Let me help you," the starter said, approaching.

He stood behind Sammy and reached around him in an instructive embrace.
"Place your hands on the shaft like this then swing with your arms 
extended, elbows unbent."

Bernie glared at the man, who fondled Sammy's hairless wrists and 
pressed his body close to the pretty boy.

"Try it now," the man said, stepping back.

Sammy swung and the ball sailed upwards, landing ninety yards down the 
middle of the fairway.

"You're a natural," the guy remarked, ogling the boy's gorgeous legs 
shamelessly.  "Come on back, if you want more tips."

"Let's go!" Bernie exclaimed, steaming.

They walked to the park of golf carts, selected one and set off down the
fairway.

"This is fun, Uncle Bern," Sammy declared, extending an androgynous leg
out of the cart.  He giggled.

"Hitting the ball or riding in the cart?" asked Bernie.

"Well, that too.  Who was the man standing behind me?"

"Jarrett.  He's the starter."

"Starter?"

"For people who need help on the tee.  Thinks he's the club _pro_, would
you believe.  Tips indeed!  What about him?"

"I could feel his wienie on my back."

"_Cock_, Sammy.  Use the right word."  Uncle added under his breath, 
"Damn boy lover!"

The boy asked pensively, "Do all men have cocks?"

The uncle huffed.  "What kind of question is that?  A cock is what makes
a man."  He shook his head.  "Home schooling!"

Bernie sank the par four in six, Sammy in twelve.

At the second tee Sammy rubbed his groin.

"I got to pee, Uncle Bern.  Where's the bathroom?"

There were no trees or bushes closer than the "golf wing" and its 
restrooms.

"In the future," said Bernie, "make a note to go before we get to the 
first tee."

"Yes, sir."

Bernie sighed.  "You're just out to learn the game.  These shots don't 
count.  When you come out of the building you'll see the flag on the 
fourth green away to your right.  Wait for me there."

Sammy hurried off.


* * *


William Jarrett watched the pretty boy racing up the fairway towards the
first tee.  He suspected the cause of the boy's urgency, and in the 
absence of other golfers he went to the men's restroom.  Sammy soon 
burst in.

"In a hurry?" Jarrett asked.

"I got to go!" Sammy exclaimed and crowded to the urinal.

Jarrett stepped close.  His eyes widened when the boy produced a schlong
that was four thick inches flaccid.  He could not comprehend it.  
Otherwise, the kid looked like a girl.

"You're well hung," he said admiringly.

Sammy grinned up at him.  "So I can't be president?"

"Huh?"

"That's what they said about Tom Sawyer -- that he'd be president if he
didn't get hung first."

Jarrett coughed.  "That's pretty good.  I could give you a special 
pleasure fit for a president -- a recent one, anyway."  He palmed an 
unblemished cheek.

"Yeah, I know.  It's really fun."

"You know?"  Jarrett was shocked, because the kid looked so innocent.

Sammy turned to the man, carelessly shaking the last drops from his 
cock.  "But I have to get back.  Uncle Bern is waiting."

"This won't take a minute," Jarrett said, his heart palpitating, 
lowering himself to his knees.

He took the circumcised organ in hand and slurped it into his mouth.  A
dream come true, he thought as he sucked it to erection.  He could 
scarcely believe it!

The boy endured it but complained, "Uncle Bern is waiting."

Jarrett, sucking a young boy's cock for the first time in his life, a 
massive one at that, was carried away and ignored the caution.  He 
sucked ardently, fingering the boy's asshole.

A thunderous knocking on the door caused him to jerk back.  A loud 
voice, though muffled, penetrated easily.  "Open the damn door!  What's
going on in there?"

Jarrett leapt to his feet, caught the boy's arm and shoved him into a 
stall, whispering urgently, "Pull your pants down and sit on the 
toilet."

He whirled away and unlocked the entrance.  A foursome awaited, one with
raised fist.  "I'm sorry," he muttered.  "Kid had an emergency."

"What kid?"

"He's on the john."

"You're the starter, right?"

"Yeah.  He took a cramp on the first tee."  Jarrett chuckled.  "I see 
what you mean.  Yeah, I got him started."

They all laughed.  The interrogator remarked, "Tough job, but somebody's
got to do it."

By this time they had crowded to the four urinals.  Sammy thought about
pausing to study their cocks, but Uncle Bern really was waiting.  He 
fastened his pants and understanding the starter's plan if not his 
motive, flushed the toilet before strolling nonchalantly past the group.

"How you feeling, kid?" asked Jarrett solicitously.

"Okay.  Now."  Sammy's bright smile swept past him to the men looking 
over their shoulders.

Jarrett fell in behind the boy at the entrance but a man at the urinals
called, "You going to the tee?  I need some help with my swing."

"What's your problem?" asked Jarrett turning back.

Sammy departed the restroom alone, hurrying up the hall toward the exit.
Passing the concession counter, he paused with a smile.  "I still love 
you, Millie."

The woman winced and hissed under her breath, "Don't say that!"  She 
looked around but the only other person in the room was a 
sallow-complexioned youth seated in a chair against the wall, apparently
asleep.  She added normally in a simpering voice, "I'm always nice to 
kids."

Lowering his voice because of her example, Sammy said, "Why don't you 
like us today?  Would your husband be angry about last night?"

Her eyes flashed.  She whispered fiercely, "Christ, Sammy, are you 
trying to get me killed?"  Her eyes narrowed.  "Okay, I get it."  She 
raised her voice.  "Carlos, wake up and mind the store.  I've got to 
show this kid the short clubs."

The sallow youth stumbled up from his chair, sneered once at Sammy and 
sagged with his elbows on the counter.

"Come through the gate," said Millie, pointing.  He obeyed and followed
her at a door behind the counter into a dim storeroom stacked with 
boxes.  She caught his hand, led him around behind the tallest stack and
said, "Take it out.  I don't have all day."

He stared at her in wonder.

With a sigh she sagged to her knees on some air-bubble packing and 
impatiently unzipped the recently zipped shorts.  Still half-erect, his
cock popped out unassisted.

She grunted.  "I got it, all right."  She sucked him into her mouth 
briefly but drew back long enough to complain, "Tastes like a damn 
cigar!"  Gamely she took it in again, sucking and slurping, one hand 
cupping his balls.

He thought of Uncle Bern, but Millie's mouth was no stranger's.  The 
thrilling pressure rose faster than his cock's recovery.  His 
reservoirs, refilled since uncle's morning attention, flooded the back 
of her tongue in time with his grunts.  She swallowed audibly.  Sagging
weakly, he upheld himself with hands on her shoulders.

She worked him out of her mouth, careful not to spill a drop, swallowed
once more and grinned up at him.  "Was that what you wanted?"

"Oh, Millie, I love you."

"You got to quit saying that, honey.  It'll get me in trouble."

"Not with me.  Or Uncle Bern."

"You know who with!  Now come on and let's get back --  Uh-oh!"

Jarrett's voice sounded from the front.  "Where are you, Millie?"

"Quick!" she hissed, leaping to her feet and shoving him into a tall, 
empty crate that stood upended nearby.  She slammed the lid, whispering,
"Stay there!" and called loudly, "Back here, looking for the shorties."

The fasteners on his crate had been broken open by crowbar.  Sammy found
that he could push the lid back far enough to see out.

The slim, balding starter appeared next to the woman.  "I sold the 
shorties to that scout troop yesterday."

"No wonder I couldn't find them."  She took a breath.  "Thanks.  Guess I
better get back to the front."

"Uh, before you go, I got something for you."

"You have?"  She regarded him askance and commented dryly, "I'll bet I 
can guess!"

He snickered.  "You'd win."  He unzipped and extracted a drooping 
uncircumcised article.  "The way you like it -- just stirring in 
anticipation."

"Oh, I do like it, but Jarrett, if Carlos steals us blind, it's your 
fault."

"Had to wake him up to ask where you'd gone.  You'll never guess what 
made me think of you just now."

"Unh-uh," she said nasally, her face buried in his open shorts.

"That asshole Canfield -- you know, Bernie Canfield -- is on the course
making snide remarks.  I'm going to kick his ass one of these days, but
he's not what turned me on.  He's got a kid with him I never saw before.
If I had, I'd remember it, you bet!  Some _fine_ ass!  God, Michelangelo
would rise from his grave for a plunge in that kid's ass.  Can you 
imagine a lovely young girl with a six-inch prong?  That's this kid."  
He sighed.  "And, Millie, I had that prong in my mouth not five minutes
ago."

The woman backed away.  "You did what?"

He caught her head and returned himself between her lips.  "Right there
in the john.  A foursome interrupted us, damned tenderfoots, else I'd've
got a taste too.  Kid sure turned me on!  Canfield came in here.  You 
saw them.  Is he a nephew?"

"Umm."

"I guess he is.  I'll swear to one thing: between him and the stool 
widows there's no choice."

"Hunh!"

"It almost sounds like you agree."  He panted with plunging hips.  
"Jesus, Millie, here it comes.  Agh!  Agh!"

She jerked the twitching organ out of her mouth, pointed it aside and 
worked the loose skin back and forth while white dribbles ran over her 
hand.

He took a deep breath.  "Okay.  That took the pressure off.  You're the
greatest, Millie.  Give us a kiss."

"Not till you leave off those damned cigars."  She wiped her hands on 
the packing material and got to her feet.  "Let's get out of here before
Carlos lets the public steal us blind."


* * *


"What took so long?" Bernie groused when Sammy returned.

"That guy sucked me."

"_Sucked_?  What guy?"

"The one who put his cock in my back."

"He did!  Sammy!  You can't let guys do that!

"I can't?  But you do.  And it feels good."

"I'm your uncle -- family.  You shouldn't give your cock to strange 
guys.  Umm.  You don't know if they're wicked or not."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Bern.  But it was fun.  Especially with Millie."

Sammy felt contrite, although his cock still tingled from the woman's 
attention.

"I admit this morning was fun," said the uncle.  Putting the cart in 
motion, he added thoughtfully, "You better restrict your guy fun to me 
for the time being.  I'll get Millie back and we'll have a go at her.  
She loves two at once."

"Wow, two at once!  Tonight?"

Uncle chuckled.  "I'd forgot what's it like at your age.  Not tonight, 
my boy.  Lots of guys can share a cunny that's willing as Millie's."

On the fifth hole, a par three, Bernie managed a five and Sammy another
twelve.  They saw deer on the course ahead of them on more than one 
occasion and laughed at the prospect of bouncing golf balls off their 
heads.

The ninth was raised so high that they could not see the flag stick 
after their approach shots.  They lofted their balls up and finished the
hole in usual piteous fashion.

"I like playing golf, Uncle Bern.  Can we do it again sometime?"

"Sure, kid, if you'll learn to ask me before you pull your dick out for
strangers."

Bernie parked the cart with the others.

"Take your clubs inside, Sammy," he said   "I have to take a shit.  I'll
be back in five minutes."

Bernie set off to the far end of the building where the restrooms were 
located, and Sammy went inside, where he found Jarrett kissing Millie 
from behind with both hands under her blouse.

"Where's your uncle?" Jarrett asked, stepping away from Millie, who 
straightened her clothes.

"Taking a shit," said the lad thoughtlessly.  "He'll be back in a couple
of minutes."

Jarrett came around the counter to the pretty boy, who stood just 
shoulder high to him.  "Your tush is exciting as that amazing dong."  He
reached out to squeeze Sammy's butt cheeks.  "I'd love to slip my cock 
into it."

"In my behind?  I've never heard of doing that."

"Really?  So you're a virgin in that respect.  Butt fucking is also a 
lot of fun, kid.  Come visit me here sometime soon -- alone.  I'll teach
you more than how to improve your swing."

"Leave the kid alone, Bill," Millie objected.  To Sammy she said, "You 
better wait outside for your uncle."

As he paused at door, looking down the hall for Uncle Bern, he heard 
Millie say softly to Jarrett, "That kid's poison for you, Bill.  Don't 
you read the papers?  They'd put you under the jail!"

"It would be worth it."

She added after a pause, "Men are such fools!"


* * *


"Do you fuck people in the behind, Uncle Bern?" Sammy asked on the drive
back home.

"I've done it.  What brings that up?"

"The guy who sucked me in there said he'd like to fuck me in the butt.
He said it would be fun."

"He did, did he?"

"He also said ..."  The boy paused to fix his memory.  "'Michelangelo 
would rise from his grave for a plunge in that kid's ass.'  Was he 
talking about the famous painter?"

"Michelangelo had that reputation.  You ever see a photo of his statue,
_David_?"

"Better.  I saw the statue in Florence.  Mamma took me last year.  You 
could see its cock.  Hey!  The starter's cock was shaped like that."

"You saw it?  When?"

"When Millie sucked him off."

"What?  When was that?"

Sammy explained the circumstances.

"God damn, no wonder you took so long -- two and half blowjobs!  
Jarrett's cock was the same shape as David's?  Ah.  Uncircumcised."

"I've read that word."

Briefly the uncle discussed circumcision, including the opinion that in
modern times its use had become a debilitating fad -- which he also had
to explain.

"You mean it feels better with a foreskin?" demanded Sammy.

"So I've heard, from people circumcised as adults."

With surprising anger Sammy snarled, "Who made them do it to me?"

"Your father had to sign for it.  Most boys born in the last fifty years
or more got it as babies and never knew the difference."

"That's not fair!"

"Of course you're right.  Back to butt fucking."  Bernie took a moment 
to study his nephew.  "Do you want to find out about it?"

"Could I pretend to be a girl?"

"Would you want to be a girl, Sammy?"

"Jarrett said I'm a lovely young girl with a six-inch prong."

"The bastard told you that?"

"He said it to Millie.  He didn't know I was watching.  I like who I am,
Uncle Bern, but pretending to be a girl for awhile sounds cool."

"We'll try it, when we get home, my boy.  If it weren't for that schlong
of yours, you could easily pass for one."  He laughed.  "Maybe we ought
to buy you a dress.  Hmm.  Where can a girl go that a boy can't?"


* * *


Bernie, naked, entered the room to gaze at the lovely youth who, lying 
face down on the bed as instructed, appeared so feminine.  "Your name is
Samantha.  I'll call you Sammy."

Wearing nothing but a blonde wig that had belonged to Bernie's ex, the 
boy giggled.  "I _am_ Sammy!"

Bernie sat on the edge of the bed with a tube of lubricating jelly in 
hand.  First he stroked the exquisite legs then leaned down to kiss and
lick each perky butt cheek.

"It's important you don't tighten your muscles, Sammy.  Better yet, when
I push in, you push out like you're trying to shit."

"Are you going to do it now, Uncle Bern?"

"In a minute."

It took longer than that for the man to explore with his mouth and 
tongue the youngster's creamy smooth back and shoulders.  Then he sat up
to smear his cock with the jelly.  He massaged his hard member until he
felt a tingle, before positioning his body between the beautiful legs.

"Relax now," he whispered into Sammy's ear as he pressed his cock at the
hole.

"Oh!" Sammy exclaimed when the knob popped through.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, Uncle Bern.  It's more like a surprise."

Bernie penetrated fully, until his body touched almost the entirety of 
the soft flesh beneath him.  He fucked in long, gentle strokes.

"You're so beautiful, Sammy, so beautiful," he whispered, cheek pressed
to his lover's bewigged head.

"Like a girl?  Does it feel like this to a girl?"

"How the hell should _I_ know?"

"Oh.  Yeah."

"It probably feels the same to a girl getting fucked up the ass."

"Girls are lucky, aren't they?"

"In some ways, maybe.  What did you have in mind?"

"They've got two places to fuck."

"But you have the thing that does the fucking."  Bernie reached under 
the lad's belly, caught the firm cock and pulled it up between body and
bed, directing, "Let it rub against the sheet and maybe getting fucked 
up the ass will feel better to you than a girl."

After a while the boy commented, "That feels weird."

"Well, it feels good to me.  Oh, Christ!  Oh, god, here it comes!"

Bernie spewed ecstatically, climaxing in one of the best fucks of his 
life.

When the uncle dismounted, the boy rolled over and removed the wig.  
Samantha, the beautiful girl, became once again Sammy, the boy with the
man-sized cock.

"My turn now, Uncle Bern."

"Yeah, it's only fair," Bernie said, although he dreaded the impending 
violation of his rectum, which he had experienced only once in his life
and had vowed never to allow again.

It began the same as his previous experience.  Despite his thorough 
understanding of purpose and procedure, Bernie found once again that 
sufficiently relaxing his sphincter was almost impossible for him.  Half
the tube of jelly, much of it squirted into the target, was used before
the clumsy lad finally penetrated.

Once properly seated, the boy plunged dilligently, careful not to 
withdraw too far.  The longer he worked, the warmer Bernie felt.  A 
curious pleasure, not exactly sexual, gradually arose, seeming to fill 
his torso bottom.  Was it the lad's fresh cock?  His college roommate's
crooked dong, accepted while half stoned and not a pleasant comparison,
had left blood on the sheet.

At last the lad ejaculated, a curiously cool wetness.  Bernie rolled 
over and pulled the boy down against him for a juicy kiss.  Thinking 
he'd like more of this, he asked, "How'd that feel?"

"Okay," Sammy answered without a smile.  "But girls are better."

"Umm.  How'd you like me doing it to _you_?"

"That was good.  But it didn't feel like fucking."

Bernie chuckled.  "Wait 30 years and try a pretty boy yourself."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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