The following story is a work of fiction.  This story is intended for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY.  
Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve consensual or non-consensual sexual acts, which may not be legal in all localities. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the legal age of consent in your local 
jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, please STOP READING NOW.

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Squid 3 (MM Reluc)
By Egress

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   The last week has been the wierdest in my life.  A guy molests me and I find myself coming back for more.  What the hell is wrong with me?
   I mean, I'm not gay.
   But I let a guy play with my dick and come all over me.  Play with my dick?  Matt made me cum twice; that's not just playing... and gave me the biggest orgasm of my life!
   But it wasn't my idea.  I didn't ask him to.
   But I can't really say I didn't like it.  I mean, I came, didn't I?  He wanked me and I came.  And I wanked him off, all over my chest.
   Worse, I started fantasizing about it.  Like when I wack off, half of the time I'm thinking about different girls, and half of the time I'm standing in the music room, looking down at his hand.
   It's really getting to me.  I'm beginning to wonder if I AM gay.
   Friday night I took a long bath.  I was cleaning up, you know, and sudzed up my dick and stroked it a little... the usual.  But then when I slid the soap along the crack of my ass, it kinda pushed in.  I started running my finger around the hole and it was really sensitive and felt really good.  And then I stuck a soapy finger... in THERE... like he did.
   My dick jumped like when I wank it.  I started slipping it in just a bit, again and again as I wanked off.  It was excellent, and when I came, I came really hard, splashing cum on my cheek and down my chest, pooling in a gooey mess in my pubes.
   I just lay there with a stupid smile on my face as the cum cooled and my anus gripped rythmically at my fingertip.
   Then the guilt of it hit me.  I haven't touched my dick to wank off since.  And I can't imagine looking Matt in the face.
   Ugh.  I need to get up the nerve to ask a girl on a date or I'll be lost to the "Alternate Lifestyle." 
   Yeah.  Right.
   I was thinking a lot about it as I swapped books at my locker before lunch on Wednesday.
   Maybe the difference between Straight and Gay is who you ask out.  Naah, gays have married and were still gay.  Like that mayor in New Jersey.
   Maybe it's who they have sex with.  But then the guy would have been straight.  Didn't he have kids?
   It couldn't be who you had sex with last, or he could have slept with his wife again and all would have been honkey-dory.
   So one time and you're gay for life?
   I shuddered at the thought and closed the locker gently.  By that standard I'm half gone and I won't ever get to see tits without it being a front.
   There were only a few stragglers filing into classes as I went towards the lunch-hall.
   A big arm landed on my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
   "Squiddie, you've been avoiding me," said a familiar, deep voice.
   "Not really, Matt," I lied.
   "Look, I have to ask you a question," he said, guiding me into an unlit, empty classroom.
   I stood there looking at him, waiting.  After a moment, I pushed the bookbag off of my shoulders and let it drop on a desk.  I sighed.  "What is it?" I asked.
   He looked at me real close for a second, then started un-buttoning my pants.
   "Hey," I whispered.  "Cut that out!  I dont..."  I tried to stop him, but he was way too strong.  "I'll get caught!"  That didn't come out right.
   He pushed me back a few inches to the wall, then his face was in mine again.
   Oh, Jesus, he's kissing me!
   His lips were pressing hard against my own as his hand slipped into my open fly.
   I pressed against his chest with one hand as my other grabbed at his wrist, though I couldn't seem to stop him, or even slow him down for that matter.  His fingers pulled my underwear down, then slid warmly down to grasp my hardening cock.
   He stopped kissing me for a moment and pulled back, looking into my eyes with an unvoiced challenge, but I was too scared to make a noise.  The door was open and someone might walk in, but I would be worse off than Matt; it was MY penis they'd see flapping in the breeze.  My pants chose that moment to drop to the ground, my wallet thunking on the floor.
   His free hand grabbed the back of my head, and he whispered to me, "That's my baby-boy.  You belong to me," as he pulled my head in for another rough kiss.
   His lips were hard on mine and from time to time he'd open his mouth.  It was softer then, almost a nice feeling amid the harsh onslaught on my senses.
   I groaned quietly as he manipulated my hard penis.  My eyes closed and his hand on my dick sent even more stimulus to my brain.  The breath, so loud from our noses filled my ears.  Then his wet tongue slipped along my lips, parting them slickly and running against my teeth.
   I groaned as I felt it.  He wanted to french kiss me.  No, I told myself.  That's what gay guys do.  If I do that, there's noothing he won't be able to make me do.
   I kept my teeth tight together.  Terror, I think, let my poor peter deflate a little.  
   He left off wanking it, and his hand slid up my side as my penis found itself flopping between us.  He stopped kissing me and pulled back, and when my eyes opened I was trapped by his intense stare as he licked his hand in long, slow draws of fingers against tongue.
   Then we both watched as his hand dropped back to my penis as it stood out above my tighty-whiteys, stroking it smoothly and slickly.
   That stare was back, "Open up, baby-boy.  You know I'm going to get what I want."
   He pressed into me again, lips open and tongue searching.  My dick was hard and his strokes distracted me.  I moaned into his mouth as his tongue flicked at my lips.
   I don't remember letting him in, but suddenly my mouth was full of his tongue.
   It was soft as it pressed into my own, with tremendous strength beneath.  My own tongue tried at first to push it back out, then to hide, but at last I just surrendered to the kiss.
   I whimpered into his mouth as he took what he wanted from me.  My pecker was hard as stone and he fondled it as he forced himself deeper into my mouth.
   His tongue and his hand held me spell-bound.  His left hand let go but I was unable to move.  The pressure of his kiss was pushing me off balance, and I found my arms holding him in a desparate, if unexpected embrace.
   I moaned and grunted as he wanked me off, groaning as the moisture on his palm dissapeared, then again as my pre-cum slicked the way.  My knees weakened as my balls tightened.  I was going to cum.
   "No," I thought as I whimpered and shook in his grasp, "not in a classroom.  I'm not going to be able to clean up the mess, and I'll be covered in cum for the rest of the day!"  But Matt didn't stop.
   His hand wove into my hair, pulling me in so tightly that I worried my lips would bruise.  I shook with the little spasms that herald a cum.
   He ended the kiss and pulled my head back.  My lips and chin were soaked with our saliva.
   His eyes held mine as my body spasmed.  I wanted to look away, but I just couldn't.
   "Oh..." I panted.  "Oh... Oh... Noooo," I whined as I felt the cum race from my balls to splat against his palm.  "Ungh.  Ungh.  Ungh."  
   My stomach kept contracting even after there was nothing but a dribble coming out.
   We both looked at the puddle in his hand.  For some reason I thought there would be more, but there was only about a teaspoon of milky-white liquid in the center of his hand.
   "I like how you look when you cum," he said.  "I can see you surrender.  That's something I want to see more of."
   He walked over to the desk and poured my cum into the trashcan.  It was goopy, with a long string that took a minute to break.
   "Be in the practice room tonight," he said, walking back to me. 
   I suddenly remembered that my pants were around my ankles and my pecker was hanging out in the free air.  I quickly dressed myself.
   He stood in front of me.
   "Make sure your shirt is off before I get there."  He scooped the leftover bits of cum onto his finger.
   "Open," he said, looking at my mouth.  I shook my head.
   He wiped the back of his finger under my nose.  The scent of cum filled my nostrils.
   "Suck it off my finger or I'm gonna rub it into your hair.  You know it's gonna stink all day, right?"
   I looked at him again.  There was no wiggle room in those eyes.
   I opened my mouth.  He shoved his finger in, pressing hard on my tongue.  I grabbed his wrist but couldn't get him to lighten up.  He was pushing it in so far I almost gagged.  Then suddenly he let up.  I sucked the finger, trying to ignore the musty taste.  When I saw his eyes were still on me, I licked his finger again to make sure he was satisfied.
   "Good boy, squiddie.  See you after school."
   That was it.  He turned and left the room like nothing had happened.
   I sat down in a chair for a minute, my head on my book-bag.  Then I took a deep breath and went to class.




