Timmie at the YMCA


by ScottR <playwright2@juno.com>

Timmie felt the young man's _c_o_c_k_ thumping against his back. It was hard, engorged -- and it meant business.

Suddenly, the boy was terrified. What was he doing here? And what did he think was going to happen when the young man on whose lap he now sat feeling more naked in his tank-top and white cotton briefs than he'd ever felt without a stitch on before, whose body was pressed so close to his, whose thighs supported his plump buttocks, whose hard and muscled nakedness felt so good, so warm, so right to him, whose lips were clamped down now on his neck, whose mouth was suckling his throat, whose teeth were nipping at his ears -- what would this hot young stud do when Timmie rose and said I'm sorry, I'm scared, I can't?

They had met in the locker room. Timmie -- lithe, boyish, trim and eighteen -- had come on his own to the city to inspect one of its small colleges. To save money, he'd taken a cheap room at the local "Y". Earlier this evening, fresh from a cursory tour of the campus, he'd come back and had taken a quick plunge in the pool. And there he'd seen the handsome, muscular young man swimming laps. They'd made eye contact, and the guy -- slightly older than himself, Timmie had guessed, maybe 19 or 20 -- had smiled invitingly, which had caused the boy to blush and quickly look away.

Timmie was 99 and 44/100ths per cent certain he was gay, but so far his exploits had largely been of the fast, fumbling, mutual-masturbation variety, shamed-faced 69s and guilty gropings in the dark with a few select school-mates; there had been one fairly serious romantic fling, but even that had not prepared him for more "adult" experiences. For all the frottage he'd had, the _c_o_c_k_s he'd stuck in his pretty lips and the cum he'd swallowed, his asshole was still cherry. Now, faced with an open, available, and definitely more mature possibility, he'd been too scared to do more than turn red and escape to the showers.

The young man had followed him into the locker room, though, and casually chatted the boy up as they toweled themselves off -- the stranger with a seductive nonchalance, rubbing his towel lightly but alluringly along his mouth-watering, naked body; Timmie more hurriedly, panicked by this hot young male who seemed to pierce the boy's mind with his frank, even stare. Timmie was panicked, too, by the stirring in his loins, by the penis that was beginning very obviously to rise between his thighs as he quickly rubbed himself dry, and by the twitching of his asshole each time he sneaked a glance at the attractively-proportioned (and rising) _c_o_c_k_ of the young man beside him.

As they dressed, the guy had said his name was Mitch, and Timmie had no choice but to respond in kind. Would Timmie like a beer?, Mitch had asked lightly. Yes, the boy had answered, assuming they would imbibe their drinks in a restaurant or a bar or another similar, comfortingly safe public place. But no, the beers were in a paper bag in Mitch's locker, and they were to take them up to his single cubicle room.

Timmie was on the verge of declining, but the pull of Mitch's open sensuality won out, and ten minutes later they sat on the floor of Mitch's cubicle drinking slightly cool beer from sweating bottles while Mitch quizzed him about the college and Timmie gushed forth with the details of his afternoon as the brunette listened patiently.

Timmie was unused to alcohol, and after two beers his head swam pleasantly, and he found the corners of his mouth turning up so often to grin foolishly that his cheeks hurt. The sun was going down, and Mitch stood and closed the drapes. The room was plunged into immediate darkness, and Timmie felt his belly flop over in nervous anticipation, his _c_o_c_k_ already beginning to stir in his faded jeans.

Timmie was aware of Mitch's dim shape as the young man came away from the window and sat down casually on the edge of his mattress. He lit a cigarette, and in the brief flash of fire from his lighter, Timmie saw that Mitch was staring directly at him, his eyes gleaming. The lighter went out, and Timmie stared now at the red glow of Mitch's cigarette. As Mitch smoked, Timmie, his voice sounding thick and at the same time quavering, like a child's, asked his host about himself, hoping the talk would take his mind off the thudding mound at his crotch. Mitch answered his queries in measured cadences, telling his tale in such a huskily lilting baritone that Timmie found himself drowning in the music of the voice until he forgot everything, including his insistent erection, thinking only of how soothing Mitch s voice sounded in the quiet, stuffy room.

Finally there was no more talk; a gentle, natural pause had settled. Putting his half-finished (and third) bottle of beer on the floor, Timmie became vaguely aware of a sock-clad foot rubbing against his left thigh. He sighed, and let the foot message his leg. His eyes closed and he thought how lovely it was, as a second foot joined in and rubbed against his right thigh. He was dreamily aware that his penis was engorged, and he rubbed his palm against it with haphazard ease.

Suddenly, Timmie thought to look at his watch. 10 o'clock! He sat up, his head spinning. He shook his head then and thanked Mitch for the brew, saying he thought he should be getting back to his room. He had to join a guided tour of the campus at 10 the next morning, so he'd have to be going to bed.

Mitch said nothing. But when Timmie raised his unsteady, pleasantly buzzed body from the cubicle floor and stood facing Mitch, he became aware that the foot that had run along his thigh was now rubbing against his crotch, soothing and soft, caressing his hardness. He felt his face flush once again, and he swayed with the beer and the heat and the pleasure of the sock-clad foot on his _c_o_c_k_. When he stuck a hand out to steady himself, he felt it gripped gently but solidly by Mitch's warm right palm.

Mitch pulled Timmie along toward him, and the boy fell with a drunken wobble onto Mitch's lap. He threw his arms around Mitch's shoulders to steady himself, and was thrilled to feel the young man's hands around his back, their faces close together, their warm, beery breath intermingling.

Soft lips sank into him then as Mitch kissed Timmie's mouth. Timmie groaned softly, becoming aware of the bulge in the lap beneath him that pressed against his bottom. Mitch tugged at the buttons on Timmie's Levis and undid the snap. His strong hands unzipped the boy's jeans and Timmie lifted up his cute little butt as Mitch slid the pants down and off.

Mitch fell backward, his strong arms around the boy's waist. Timmie went with him, his lips connected to Mitch's full mouth as Mitch unzipped his own trousers and wriggled out of them. He broke the kiss only long enough to remove his shirt and then his hungry mouth found Timmie's again and Timmie leaned over the young man, raising his body up as Mitch yanked off his own underpants and kicked them off, kissing the young man's hard nipples as he did so.

Mitch was naked now, his hands roaming Timmie's half-clothed body as they kissed. He sat up, once more taking Timmie with him. Mitch stood Timmie up and turned the boy around so that Timmie's back was to him as they kissed, Timmie craning his neck back to meet the lips that sought his mouth, and Mitch's naked chest pressed against the soft cotton of Timmie's t-shirt. Mitch s hot _c_o_c_k_ rested between the lovely round cheeks of Timmie's brief-encased bottom. The young man shifted slightly and his _c_o_c_k_ sprang up, flopping against Timmie's back.

It was then that Timmie became fully aware of Mitch's naked boner nestled into the small of his back. Suddenly panicked by the thought of that hot, hard _d_i_c_k_ near his ass, he broke free and leapt up. He felt his penis straining against the cotton prison, his sphincter pulsing in anticipation and fear.

"I'm sorry," Timmie gulped, raising his sweating backside off Mitch's living, pulsating lap. "I can't."

Mitch's strong hands suddenly gripped Timmie's biceps and held him, half-on and half-off the lap, those hot thighs still connected to Timmie's quivering butt.

"Where d'you think you're going?," Mitch's voice snapped.

"I -- no! I mean --"

A hint of violence emerged from beneath Mitch's husky whisper.

"Hey, baby," he purred, "None of that prick-tease stuff with me."

With an effort, Timmie tore away and up off that lap with its soft, roiling balls and living, angry snake of a _c_o_c_k_. He stood, and as he did he felt Mitch's hands rest firmly on his shoulders.

"You got me all hot and bothered," Mitch whispered, "And now you're gonna leave? Is that nice? Is that fair?" The young man s voice was even, but there was a threat behind the amiable tone.

Timmie stood, terrified, rooted to the spot. Mitch's strong hands bit into his flesh like a heated knife slicing through soft butter. The big _c_o_c_k_ was pressed up between his butt-cheeks. The boy shuddered, wanted, feared. His penis continued to push away from his body, a pup-tent in the pouch of his underpants. He hesitated as the lips descended again onto his naked shoulders. He felt his knees and his will weaken together, and his eyes clamped shut as the warm breath warmed his throat. I want, he thought, I want, I want -- what?

I want his _c_o_c_k_ in my ass.

That was it, wasn't it? Timmie wanted Mitch to _f_u_c_k_ him.

But with the same strength as his desire had risen, making his _c_o_c_k_ warm and full as the blood pounded through the shaft, his terror returned. He opened his eyes, clenched his fists and with a supreme act of terror and will, wrested himself away and --stopping to grab up his pants and shirt -- ran for the door.

Timmie's hand reached for the door-knob, but the naked body behind him held him there, pinioned his flesh with its flesh, strong arms on either side of him holding the door closed, the twitching organ at Mitch's crotch once more making contact with Timmie's quivering butt.

A handful of hair was gathered in Mitch's left fist, and pulled up sharply, bringing Timmie's head back with a snap. Timmie's heart burst its moorings as he cried out, wincing from the pain. Was he about to be beaten? Killed? Raped?

"N-no!," he heard himself cry out. "Let go! Ow!"

Mitch's hot breath tickled his ear. "Sure I'll let go, baby. But you've got to let go a little first."

The left hand kept hold of his hair, bringing tears to Timmie's eyes. But the right hand moved from the door then, reached down to the bulging pouch and cupped it.

"See?," Mitch whispered seductively. "I know you want it. Your _c_o_c_k_ knows you want it. And you know you want it, too."

The hand on his hair released it, and Timmie held himself in place, raising his arms and pressing his palms flat against the door as Mitch held onto to the fevered lump at the teenager s groin. He slipped his free hand down and ran his fingers along the contours of Timmie s bottom. The elastic band of the boy's underpants was invaded by the forceful fingers. With a yank and a rush of air against his ass-cheeks, Timmie felt his briefs torn away behind him, roughly baring his bottom. They rested just below his butt, framing it. The cloth gathered up the throbbing penis in front, pulled it painfully, down. Timmie felt the young man s body come closer.

Mitch pressed his erection against the crack of Timmie s buttocks. It slipped between them, nestling between his cheeks. Timmie's legs lost all muscle tone, and he felt he might swoon. Almost without thought, he pressed his butt-cheeks together, clamping down on the fiery _c_o_c_k_ that burned against his anus. Mitch wrapped his arms around the boy and held him tightly, his tongue darting into Timmie's ear.

Mitch turned Timmie's body around to face him. There was a tiny desk and chair in the room, and Mitch threw the boy over the chair. The boy's crotch was pressed against the back of it, his bottom upraised. Mitch's hand rose up the curved musculature of Timmie's round butt and slapped it, roughly, a stinging blow to his butt. Timmie yelped, stung.

The calloused hands held his naked cheeks, kneaded them, stroked them, patted them, caressed them, slapped them. Timmie felt a moan tear itself from his throat.

Mitch leaned over Timmie, his face close to the boy's, and whispered heatedly into his ear.

"Yeah, baby," Mitch's voice rasped as he rubbed the naked young butt with his open palm, "You need your bad little butt paddled."

An arm went back and shot forward again, fast, his open palm connecting with Timmie's asscheeks. The blow, hard hand-flesh against tender, sweaty butt-flesh, cracked in the stuffy silence like a whip. Timmie heard the sound before he felt the smacking pain, but when his nerve-ends screamed, he cried out. Warm pain shot through his bottom and exited out the head of his painfully restrained penis. A second blow fell, then a third.

Soon, Mitch was paddling Timmie's butt in earnest. He spanked the kid hard, first contacting one cheek and then the other, and finally both at once. Each fresh blow of his palm rent the air with a resounding slap. Each new assault on his blushing ass made Timmie's rump seethe with pain. His bottom was aflame, and he could feel the rush of warmth flooding to his backside and knew his rear was blushed with red, scorched from the searing blows of Mitch's spanking.

And yet, with the pain and the glowing crimson suffusing his bottom, Timmie found himself pushing his blazing ass back to meet the blows, his _c_o_c_k_ grinding into the chair-back, engorging, excited by this unexpected corporal punishment. He remembered how his father had spanked him bare-assed that night two years before when he'd come home after two in the morning, and how hot it was. Timmie's dad had lit into his young bottom with his callused hands until man and boy had raging hard-ons. He thought of how they had made love afterwards, about the way the spanking had turned him on like nothing he'd ever known, and about how he'd been longing for another session over some hot guy's knee.

Now, he groaned and sighed and shuddered and yelped as Mitch spanked him, the deliciousness of the paddling expressing itself in the pouch of wet hardness encased in the front of his briefs. His _c_o_c_k_ pressed against Mitch's thigh and he pushed his bottom up to receive the spanking as the tempo increased and the young man tore into his ass, smacking his palm all over the naked flesh. First one cheek, then both, then the other cheek, then both again, making the boy's rear turn a deep shade of red and his _d_i_c_k_ swell to a painful proportion. His ass burned and stung, and he wanted it to go on forever.

Finally the blows stopped. Mitch bent over Timmie again, whispering into his ear as he caressed the teenager's scarlet bottom tenderly.

"I could spank you all night, you hot little bastard. But that cute ass of yours needs something else right now."

Mitch's _c_o_c_k_ slipped itself between Timmie's cheeks once more, and its heat and heft felt right, felt needed, felt natural. Timmie felt himself clench his butt-cakes around it as it slid up and down between his smarting buttocks, the soft folds of ball-flesh below it and the thick swatch of silken, curly hair around it tickling Timmie's bottom.

"Yeah, baby," Mitch said, his voice slurred with heat, "Yeah, that's it. Your ass fits my _c_o_c_k_ so well. Your butt wants my _c_o_c_k_ inside it."

The lips roughly clamped down on Timmie's neck again, delving deep, the teeth nipping, the tongue lapping. The boy shoved the restraining cotton from his crotch and his _c_o_c_k_ sprang free, waving and throbbing away from his belly.

Timmie slipped one hand to his _c_o_c_k_ and gripped its hard shaft, jerking it with his fist. With the other hand, he gripped the arms that held him and threw his head back, moaning.

"That's one hot butt," Mitch whispered in his ear. "Come on, baby -- give me that hot ass!"

Timmie felt himself being moved, the _c_o_c_k_ still nestled between his butt-cheeks, toward the cot. The underpants slipped to his feet, gathered there. And when Mitch pushed him, face down, to the bed, the cloth was kicked from his feet as his thighs spread wide over the mattress. His _c_o_c_k_ was gathered up beneath his belly, his legs dangling, and he felt Mitch lower his body behind Timmie's on the bed.

The panic returned. Timmie was about to be _f_u_c_k_ed for the first time, and it terrified him.

But before he could speak, Mitch spread the boy's hairless cheeks with his calloused palms and dove his face between them. He moved his mouth over the boy s smarting buns, kissing the red cheeks, soothing away the pain of the spanking. Timmie shuddered, sighed.

Mitch s mouth moved between the teenaged ass-cheeks. His lips opened and his tongue slid toward Timmie's clenching asshole. Timmie gasped as the tongue lapped his virgin cunt. He'd heard of men licking each other's anuses, but he'd never done it himself; he thought it was nasty -- dirty. Yet here was this beautiful young man, this perfect stranger, kissing his butthole, licking it, pushing his hot, wet tongue inside it. Timmie's _c_o_c_k_ rose still higher, and he felt his initial resistance giving way as his velvety pucker relaxed, slowly, against the onslaught of Mitch's slurping, licking, pushing tongue.

Timmie's asshole opened as the tongue slide in, and involuntarily clamped down hard. Mitch reached beneath Timmie's belly then and began to stroke the boy's stiff rod. As he did so, Timmie relaxed his sphincter again and the tongue, now freed, dug and probed inside his asshole, each exquisite, wet move sending shivers down Timmie's spine. His bottom , still warm from the spanking, tingled as the mouth between his cheeks slurped and the hand on his _c_o_c_k_ stroked and pulled. He thought he might cum right then, and was almost relieved when Mitch slipped his tongue out.

Timmie sighed, his body shivering. Mitch replaced the hot tongue with a nimble index finger, slipping it easily into the relaxed, wet anus. He teased the boy's butthole, then moved up into the rectum and found Timmie's prostate. He stroked it gently and Timmie felt his _c_o_c_k_ throb more intently. He moaned and gasped and sighed and shivered, and once more felt his balls draw up and his orgasm approaching.

Mitch pulled his finger out of the boy's backside. Timmie was kneeling on the bed then, his hot young butt swaying in the warm air, completely open and utterly in the thrall of the brunet's practiced technique. His eyes closed, his mind knowing what was next, his _c_o_c_k_, pressed under his belly, oozing droplets of pre-cum. At that moment, he felt a cold gel being applied to his asshole with a finger that penetrated him with one quick movement, smearing his butthole with lubricant. His eyes opened then, as he realized Mitch was about to shove his hard _c_o_c_k_ into Timmie's ass.

The finger withdrew and there was a sound behind him, of plastic being torn open. Mitch patted Timmie's damp bottom softly.

"Don't worry, baby. You re safe. I m the Condom King."

When he was ready, Mitch slapped Timmie's butt gently with a sticky hand.

"Roll over, kid," he whispered.

Timmie turned and lay on his back and saw Mitch was kneeling below him. The older boy spread Timmie's thighs with greasy hands and the teenager braced himself. Mitch seemed to read his thoughts and smiled.

"Relax, baby, he said. Relax."

Timmie's legs were lifted up over Mitch's shoulders. The brunette was staring down at he boy's ass, and Timmie was suddenly concerned.

"What?," he asked. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Mitch said in a husky voice, dripping with _s_e_x_. "You have such a pretty butt. I just want to look at it for a minute."

With that, Mitch leaned forward, pressing the length of his hot body against Timmie's. The boy felt the greasy, throbbing, rubber-encased _d_i_c_k_ pressed between his ass-cakes, and he opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to say, "No!" or even, "Go easy on me, I'm a virgin", but Mitch's lips clamped down over Timmie's before a word could be uttered, and they kissed, a hard thrill of passion spreading through the boy's quivering body as he hungrily responded to the mouth that burned his own.

Mitch broke the kiss then and with a sudden fury, clamped his teeth on Timmie's neck. He bit and sucked as Timmie threw his head to one side and clamped his eyes shut, thrilling to the hot pleasure/pain of Mitch's busy mouth. Mitch's hands tweaked and stroked, pinching Timmie's nipples and yanking on his balls. The lips moved to his left ear now, the teeth biting the lobe and pulling down, the tongue suddenly shoved inside his blazing ear.

Timmie's mind was so focused on the eroticism of Mitch's attentions to his neck and tits and balls and ears that he couldn't fully sense the _c_o_c_k_ that Mitch's fingers trained toward his _s_h_i_t_ter, the greased-up tip kissing his virgin pucker, until with a renewed chewing of Timmie's ear and a sharp push upward, Mitch had shoved his _c_o_c_k_ inside the dilated asshole. The head pushed through the clutching sphincter and Mitch waited. Timmie was amazed; there was no pain, only the slight feeling of unaccustomed fullness in his anus.

Mitch waited to be sure the boy was ready, then sent his _d_i_c_k_ gliding up and forward, slicing its easy way up Timmie's utterly relaxed passageway. With amazement, Timmie felt the movement cease. Mitch's big balls were wedged against Timmie's butt-cheeks, and his whole being felt filled up with the hot, horny _d_i_c_k_ embedded in his cute round bottom.

There had been no discomfort -- Mitch's frenzied mouth had distracted Timmie while the entry had been completed. The boy felt himself shudder and sigh, felt his _c_o_c_k_ twitching faster, felt his butt-lips clamp down tightly on the invading pole that had speared him. He turned his face around again and kissed Mitch's lips in gratitude.

They remained as they were, connected _c_o_c_k_-to-ass, for a bit, their mouths mingling, until Mitch broke the stillness by pushing his butt back and sliding his _c_o_c_k_ part-way out of Timmie's tingling ass. He shoved up again, the length of him sliding up Timmie's flaming hole, and when Mitch again made to rear back, Timmie instinctively met his movements by pushing his body forward. When the _c_o_c_k_ thrust forward once more, Timmie pressed his butt back to meet it, and the two maintained this graceful _f_u_c_k_-rhythm as Mitch's hands once more made contact with the boy's still-burning butt.

With each new thrust of his _c_o_c_k_, Mitch's palms connected with Timmie's bottom -- one hand for each buttock -- striking hard, the quivering cheeks just fitting the callused palms. The sudden sharp pain drove Timmie wild. He pushed back now to meet not just Mitch's _f_u_c_k_-rhythms but his busy hands as well, shoving his ass against them as the frenzied _f_u_c_k_ grew in speed and intensity. The slaps to his ass matched the rhythm of the hot _d_i_c_k_ in his bottom, faster and harder and shorter thrusts as Mitch's passion mounted.

Sensing from the now-frenzied body motions, the rough back and forth movements of the _c_o_c_k_ in his butt that the young man mounting him was getting close to orgasm, Timmie reached for his _c_o_c_k_ and began to jerk it, timing his movements to match Mitch's pistoning _f_u_c_k_-motions, and as Mitch's body tensed above him, thrusting up hard, as Mitch bellowed with ecstatic release, Timmie felt it rub his prostate and his own _c_o_c_k_ began to spurt; as he felt wave upon wave of warm semen splatter against his guts, his own balls roiled and drew up, his _d_i_c_k_ erupted, and his hand was showered with hot white lava.

Mitch's body fell on Timmie's and their mouths connected. His hands continued to rub and pat the boy's scarlet bottom as they lay together in lazy grateful kissing until Timmie felt the spent _d_i_c_k_ pulling slowly out. He relaxed, sighing, as the _c_o_c_k_ popped from his hot-_f_u_c_k_ed bottom. Mitch repositioned himself, his softening _c_o_c_k_ now pressed against Timmie's own sticky member, and took the boy's head in his hands, kissing his face and lips and ears and throat.

Finally, Mitch rolled over beside the boy and they held hands, warm in the after-glow.

Man, Timmie whispered huskily. That was great.

You liked that, huh?

Oh, yeah.

"Hey," Mitch said suddenly. "Why don't you go down and take a shower, huh?"

Timmie was struck by this remark. Did Mitch want to get rid of him that fast, now that he'd gotten what he wanted out of him?

"Well, I guess I --"

"You go down and take a shower, while I take a nap, huh? And when you get back, I'll go down and take one too. Then you sleep for a bit, and when I get back," and now Mitch rolled over and took the boy in his arms, "When I get back, you ought to be ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?"

Mitch rapped softly on Timmie's skull and laughed.

"Are you stupid, baby, or just selfish? Don't I get to feel this," and Timmie felt Mitch's hand on his prick, "in my butt?"

Timmie looked startled, then grinned back.

He jumped off the bed , grabbed his clothes, threw them on and headed out the door. He knew that Mitch's suggestion that they shower separately made sense; the showers were too public a place for them to be naked together now.

Under the warm water, Timmie happily soaped himself in the deserted shower room. He found he didn't care whether anyone noticed how red his butt was -- in fact, the thought that someone might wander into the shower and wonder why this boy's ass was the color of a rose made him tingle with excitement . He didn't even mind that his half-erect _c_o_c_k_ grew to jut rigidly away from his body as he bathed.

And anyway, it was the shortest shower he ever took.


More stories byScottR