BikerHof

By Scott Sauce

It had been a horrible year. I had come out to the wrong person. He outed me, forcing me to move to a new school. There I met a guy. I would have let him do anything to me, but before our secret could come out he lied about me. Now I'm stuck in a dare: spend Halloween at the old graveyard or face being bullied for the rest of my school career.

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It had been a horrible year.

I had told my best friend that I thought I liked boys and that I liked dressing up in girl’s clothes. I thought our friendship was strong enough and that he was a safe person to confide in. He had been disgusted and outed me. That led to some pretty intense bullying. When that came to light, my mother and father were terribly disappointed in me like it had been my fault. They insisted we move and change schools in order to maintain their reputations. My father had been promoted so he had the option to move anyway.

The first thing my father said to me when we go to our new place was “Now, no more of this homosexual nonsense. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” He didn’t want to talk about it. He told me I was being silly and I needed to grow up. I cried myself to sleep that first night.

The new school was mostly okay, but I was feeling damaged and I found it hard to make new friends, especially when everyone was already in their groups and niches. I was struggling to see where I fitted.

Then I met Gabe. He was a prince among the trendy kids. He was super-sporty, on every team. He looked more mature than any of us, had a great athletic build, and he was popular. In short, he was a million miles away from the kind of friends I usually had.

He found me crying the toilets one afternoon. He was really cool about it. He made me take a breath and talk to him about it. I felt like I was at end the end of the road and I needed to share with someone and he listened really well. I told him about the bullying, which led to telling him about liking boys, about my dad’s reaction. He managed to coax more out of me than I thought I’d ever be able to share with anyone. And then he had me suck his dick.

Me and Gabe had several weeks of elicit encounters. He made me a popular kid in school and in return we’d find time to fool around. I’d suck him off, or we’d kiss. He liked me to wear a girl’s school uniform and underwear and he liked to strip me and touch me. One time when I went with him to his bedroom I sucked him while he stuck a finger in my ass. I wondered how far we would have gone, but we were interrupted by his big sister coming home leaving us scrambling to find our clothes and get dressed. I think I’d have let him do anything that day. I really wanted it. I’d felt ready. Things had started to get serious and the touching and fooling around had started to get heavy. I asked him whether we could maybe go public and have a proper relationship and that’s when my world came crashing down once more. Gabe told everyone who would listen that I had tried to touch him in the showers, that I’d asked to suck his cock. And that’s when the bullying started again.

This time I couldn’t tell anyone. I felt like I was on my own and I had to front it out. I couldn’t move school again. My father was obviously not going to be sympathetic a second time around. Hell, he wasn’t sympathetic the first time.

Eventually there was the inevitable showdown. After school, I was walking on my own around a local playing field. Gabe and his friends accosted me. There was some pushing and shoving and a lot of name-calling. I broke down and cried and begged them to stop, which I guess was what they wanted. Gabe made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: take a dare and see it though and he would personally ensure I was no longer bullied. Refuse and be hounded until I left, or worse. I accepted. There was little or no honour among us kids, but the sanctity of the dare was everything.

The dare was simple enough. I was to tell my parents I was having a sleepover with a kid from school when in fact I would be spending Halloween night camped out in the old graveyard on the outskirts of town. It was rumoured to be haunted and the stalking ground for an axe murderer, so nobody went there. Not ever.

As usual there was a catch. Gabe said I had to wear a girl’s school uniform that he would bring. He’d also be bringing everything I needed to camp out. As the day drew nearer there were weather warnings. An unseasonably warm front was bringing storms. I was teased relentlessly about ghosts, told gruesome stories about an axe murderer, and of course the forecast storms were a subject of great amusement.

I met Gabe and a few of his closest friends near the graveyard. It had rained last night and all through the day the town had been blanketed in thick mist. We got the the graveyard by seven in the evening. It was surrounded by a high stone wall with an iron gate that squealed in protest as we pushed it open. Old headstones stood at odd angles in a wide arc around an abandoned church. There were occasional stands of trees and shrubbery. The mist lay thick here, with wisps like fingers clinging to tree trunks and shrubbery. It was like something out of a Hollywood movie and I wasn’t looking forward to this.

We sought a suitable camping location and I asked Gabe if I could have the tent. That’s when his mates grabbed me. They held my arms behind a tree while Gabe sneered in my face and undressed me. When I tried to fight I was punched in the stomach and winded. By the time they were finished, I was standing naked as an ominous rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. His friends made fun of me, of my naked body.

“Please Gabe” I begged. “This wasn’t the deal! At least give me the school uniform like you promised!”

Gabe and his friends laughed. He threw a small piece fabric at me and told me to put that on. It was the pair of panties I had been wearing the day he slipped a finger into me. He knew it, and I knew it. I quickly put them on to cover my modesty as best I could. His friends grabbed my arms again and held them bent behind the tree. Gabe took rolls of cling film from his pack and began to wrap it around me so that when he’d finished I was wrapped from my neck down to my thighs and I had no way of moving.

His friends laughed and ran off. Gabe stuck around for a few minutes to wallow in my misery. He touched me through the wrap as he explained what would happen next. “I’m gonna call the police after midnight and tell them where you are. They’ll collect you and take you home to mummy. You won’t spend the night here and that’ll break the dare and on top of that you’ll have some explaining to do. Good luck with that. Have fun, faggot!” He spat in my face and left without another word, leaving me confused and distraught with Gabe’s saliva running down my cheek.

Silence descended as the boys ran off. I could hear their voices fade into nothing. A cool breeze started up as the weather began to change. The breeze began to blow the mist around the graveyard in wisps and eddies. I couldn’t see much in the growing darkness, just odd misty shapes and shadowy patches. I didn’t like it. It was eerie and although I told myself over and over that ghosts did not exist, I’d catch a wisp of mist from the corner of my eye and it would startle me, keeping my adrenaline pumping and my senses on high alert. I struggled against the layers of clingfilm but I couldn’t move and my arms were starting to ache as they were in an uncomfortable position. My back was sore too, the bark of the tree digging into me as I struggled.

Suddenly the temperature seemed to drop. I got goosebumps all over. Something fell from the tree and landed on my head. I cried out, shook my head in fear thinking it was a spider or worse. A bit of twig fell to the ground, leaving me safe but with a rapidly beating heart. I could hear thunder again, getting closer now. The wind was picking up too. I could see that most of the mist had been blown away. That’s when the first cold drops of rain fell. That’s when I cried.

The next few hours were hell on earth for me. The wind picked up and was whistling through the graveyard making eerie moaning and high pitched wailing sounds. It lashed the rain down at me so that my hair was soaked. It had run down my neck and underneath the clingfilm, so the panties were soaked too. Debris was blowing around the enclosed space and I could sense more than see twigs and leaves and junk flying past my face. Then the lightning started. I was cold and wet and scared half to death. That’s when I realised I really needed to pee. Eventually I couldn’t hold it and I wet myself. That was the final humiliation. When the police came I’d have to explain why I was out here in pee-soaked girls underwear and nothing else. Then I’d have to explain to my parents. I was miserable, sobbing to myself, cold.

A flash of lightning lit the graveyard around me for a split second. I started. Was there a figure out there? My pulse was racing and I was suddenly petrified. Was I seeing things? I was sure there had been someone. My mind raced all over the place, from the possibility of axe murderers to the chance that Gabe and his friends had returned to play tricks on me.

Another flash, but there was noting there. I breathed, relieved, and then another flash. Oh god! There was something, nearer this time. I was sure it was the outline of a person. Another flash and out of the corner of my eye I saw someone again. Or at least I thought I did. Rain continued to pelt down. The wind continued to moan and whistle. Another two bright flashes, but there was nothing. I convinced myself that it was my mind playing tricks. I began to believe that it was all okay. I started to breath properly again. Even in this cold and wet I was sweating, the cold sweat of fear.

And then another flash and there he was, as clear as daylight. A man was maybe four feet directly in front of me. I only saw him for half a second, but he was there. He wore a long cape and hood. This wasn’t Gabe or any of his friends. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

A rough hand covered my mouth. I practically hyperventilated. I was sure I was about to be killed at the hands of the fabled local axe murderer. My heart was pounding.

“Shut up!” He shouted. He had to shout to be heard over the noise of the wind and the thunder and the rain. “What are you doing out here…..?” The man unveiled a lantern and suddenly the place was bathed in a warm orange light.

I couldn’t speak. I was too cold, too shocked, too afraid. As I watched the man took a horrible, long knife from inside his cape. The blade was about a foot long. I screamed again and I think I fainted for a few seconds. I came around to find the man slicing through the clingfilm. As the last piece was cut away I slumped to my knees unable to move. Oh god, I thought, please make it quick!

To my surprise the man put his knife away. He bent down and grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder. He carried me like I was no heavier than a small child as stomped off through the graveyard. I dare not struggle. He was too strong. He walked for maybe five minutes, around the old church and through a gap in the wall. Eventually he got to an old stone cottage where he opened the front door, lowered me down gently and helped me inside.

He ushered me swiftly into a cozy sitting room. There was a large, worn old leather sofa strewn with throws and blankets. He grabbed one, wrapped it around my shoulders, and sat me on a rug in front of an open fireplace. He stoked the orange embers and threw on some dry logs and in seconds flames were rushing up to consume the fuel. The instant heat was delightful.

The man nodded. “You need a hot drink” he said, his voice deep, rumbling, sonorous. He stomped off leaving me cross-legged in wet panties, a blanket pulled tight around me, as I stared into the flames in shock.

He returned soon with a steaming mug of tea. “It’s sweet” he said. “You need the sugar”.

I took the mug and hugged it close to me, cradling it. I looked up at the stranger. He was tall and powerfully built with broad shoulders and a mess of long dark hair. He had dark stubble across his cheeks and down his neck and his eyes were a deep, shining dark brown. He took off his cape and threw it on an armchair in the corner, not bothered that it was wet. Underneath he was wearing a woollen pullover like an old fisherman’s jumper and waxed canvass pants. I watched him. He was handsome.

He started to unfasten he pants, but he paused and looked down at me. “I hope you don’t mind me taking these outdoor things off in here. Maybe you can tell me what a scrawny young thing like you is doing lashed to a tree in my graveyard. How old are you, anyway?”

I looked up dumbly. “Almost seventeen” I said. Even to my ears, my voice sounded weak. I was hoarse from all the crying, too.

The man peeled the canvass pants off. He was wearing warm leggings underneath. He glanced over again. “And you’re out there in this weather, dressed like that, because……?”

I burst into tears. I couldn’t help it. I was embarrassed and frightened and I felt stupid. I went to speak and suddenly a wave of emotion crashed over me. My words vanished and all I had was tears, sobbing, and ragged breathing. The man crouched down and pulled me in close. He hugged me tight and rubbed my back. “Hey, hey, hey” he said softly. “Whatever it is, it’s better shared. Come on kid, tell me what’s going on here.”

He was so nice. I was sure he didn’t have to be. I had nowhere else to turn, so through my ragged breaths, my tears and my crying I told him my sorry story from start to finish.

As I finished he released his hold on me. “Drink that” he instructed. “Before it gets cold. I’ll be back.”

I drank my tea and let the hot liquid warm my insides. The sweetness began to revive my spirits and suddenly wondered if I had done the right thing in telling this strange, handsome man everything about me. The door to this cozy little sitting room opened and there he was again. He set a tray of sandwiches down beside me on the rug and gestured to them.

“You must be starving. Eat something. I’m not much of a chef but my sandwiches are pretty good. I called the police station. Told them I had seen off some kids from around the old church and told them I overheard them plotting to call in about a boy tied to a tree. Told them I’d keep my eye out, tat it was nonsense, and that there was no need to come out this far.” He winked at me. “Teenage boys can be bastards” he said with some authority. “The police won’t come out tonight.”

I smiled, relief flooding through me like I’d never experienced. “Thank you” I said.

“No problem.” He replied. “You can stick around here if you’ve nowhere else to go. Maybe we can work a way to get your old friend Gabe back, too. I’d enjoy that. He’s probably the little shit who keeps smoking dope inside the old church and who broke one of the windows.”

I smiled a that. I guessed it probably was Gabe. That sounded like him. “Are you sure you don’t mind sheltering the town fag?” I asked, bring to be light-hearted. I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone.

“I’ll tell you something, kid.” He said as he reached across, grabbed another log and threw it on the fire. “Up until now I was the town fag. So no, I don’t mind. I’ve been where you are, more or less. It’ll be my pleasure to help you out. Maybe I can give you a few words of advice, too.” He sat heavily on the old sofa and sighed.

My heart swelled in my chest. Suddenly I was not alone! Suddenly, from nowhere, I had a saviour and he knew what I was going through. Another guy who liked guys. And he wasn’t afraid to tell me that. I looked at this man with fresh eyes.

“Listen, I don’t have anything even approaching your size, but I think you’re sitting there in wet underwear. You want me to take those and get them in the wash or at least dry them? You can have as many blankets as you like to cover yourself if you want to.” He said.

Conflicting emotions clashed within me. I was warm now and no longer afraid. I was alone with a gay man who I found handsome, so the naughty, horny teenager in me wanted this guy to strip me of my panties and touch me and play with me. But he was an adult and would probably want more than I had ever given. And why would he be interested in me anyway? I felt silly. Silly for wearing girl’s panties even if I liked them. Silly for getting myself into this position. I slowly shook my head, almost involuntarily.

“Well, it’s up to you I guess, but don’t come complaining to me when you go down with a cold.” He said. His words were stern, but he was smiling. He was clearly amused at my predicament even if I wasn’t.

I watched him. He was muscular. My mom would have called him hunky. From nowhere my mind wandered to the things I had done with Gabe. I remembered that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach when he had touched me, touched my bottom, when he ran his finger over my hole and then the wave of shock and delight as he pushed his finger inside me. I had been torn that day, torn between wanting so much more and being too shy, too nervous, to go any further.

The man’s amusement stoked a fire within me. Dammit I was almost seventeen! And I so badly wanted some experience. I wanted to validate myself and my sexuality. And here he was, my saviour. My gay, hunky saviour. This guy had seen most of me anyway. If I wanted to strip I damn well would! Maybe he would hold me. Maybe he’d want to touch my body and give me that nervous, shy, delighted feeling that I’d got with Gabe. Maybe he’d be better. He looked like he knew what he was doing.

I shrugged off the blanket, stood on shaky legs and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I reached down and pulled the panties down all the way to my ankles. I stepped out of them, picked them up with one hand and offered them to the man. There I was, naked and embarrassed and feeling more foolish now than ever. I tried to stand proud, but inevitably my knees started to close together and my hands moved slowly to cover myself. What started as a bold action ended up with me looking like a shy boy.

The man smiled more broadly now. He took the underwear and held them up between thumb and forefinger. He pulled a face. “Let’s just throw these in the trash, shall we?” He said as he took them from me. As I quickly sat back down on the rug and pulled the blanket around me he added “You’ve a nice body. Nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? And it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

I flushed red again and he chuckled. He tossed the underwear in the corner by his coat. I set about eating a sandwich while the man got up again and left the room. After eating and drinking and with the heat from the fire I felt entirely more human. I was disappointed in myself, though. That had not gone as I had planned. Maybe I could try again?

The man came back. He had stripped down to a tight fitting white t-shirt. I could see his muscled torso rippling underneath the fabric and it sent a thrill through me right down to my balls. He was undeniably handsome in an unconventional, rough kind of way. To my surprise he offered me his hand. I tentatively reach out and took it. He pulled me easily to my feet, my free hand struggling to keep hold of the blanket. His grip was firm, his hands rough but warm and gentle. His touch sent another thrill down my spine. I wanted more. So much more.

He led me out of the room. It was cooler here in the small hallway, with a draught coming in under the front door. The chill gave my goosebumps. I could hear the wind and rain outside and I shivered. The man led me up a narrow flight of stairs and into a cramped bathroom at the top of the stairs. The room was warm and steamy. He’d run a hot bath in what looked like an ancient steel tub that was set in the floor.

The man pushed the blanket off my shoulders and I let it fall to the floor. I was once again naked, but I felt less shy now, less foolish under this man’s gaze. He gently lifted my naked body and set me down in the tub. The hot water stung my cool skin but instantly I felt revived. He grabbed a sponge and some soap and began to lather me, running the sponge gently around my neck, over my shoulders and back, and across my chest. I sat forward I the hot water and let him wash me.

“I think you peed you pants out there and you’re chilled to the bone. This will help. If you’d prefer I leave, then you have only to say. If you’d prefer to do this yourself?”

I blushed at the reference to peeing in my underwear, but the man’s touch had really turned me on. In answer to his question I stood up in the tub and faced him. If he was comfortable washing me, I’d let him. It felt great. My teenage penis was already responding. Surely it was obvious that I wanted more.

The man used the soap and sponge to scrub my arms, my chest, my stomach. He moved to my knees and shins next. He turned me, finishing my back, arms and leg. He turned me again, and ran the sponge gently but with purpose over my thighs. My cock was now rock hard, my blood really pumping. I started to cover myself, but at the last minute I took a deep breath and let it happen, leaving my hands free by my sides.

The man soaped up the sponge one more time, returning it to my inner thighs. He worked his way up until he was lathering my balls and my cock which was standing out in front of me. With one hand he pulled my foreskin back and he squeezed soapy water from the sponge onto my cock head. He massaged it in, his big rough hands surprising gentle. I’m amazed I didn’t cum there and then. He turned me, brought the sponge back between my legs and lathered my bottom between my cheeks. Someone else touching me here, even with the sponge, sent another thrill all through me.

I had that feeling now. That nervousness, that feeling of being on the edge and not knowing if I should jump. Not knowing if I could jump. Knowing that I wanted to jump if only I could pluck up the courage.

I turned and looked with lust at this man. Our eyes met. I wondered at my luck in finding this guy and I wanted more of his touch. Was I ready to go all the way? I blinked, trying to think this through. I think maybe he saw my uncertainty because he said, “Shall I leave you to rinse off? There are clean towels here.”

“No” I said in a thin voice, sounding like a frightened little boy. “No, please”. I said.

He looked at me, our eyes locked together. He moved his gaze up and down my body until he was fixed back on my eyes. “Maybe you should wait. I think you’re too y…..”

I cut him off. “I’m not too young!” I said. There was a pause. He cocked his head to one side. I was committed now. I had to go forward. No turning back. “I’m ready.” I said. “I know I am.”

He looked me over again, his eyes hungrier this time. He drank in my young body. I knew then that he wanted me too. “Are…… are you certain?” He asked.

“I’m certain” I said. I blushed. “I have never…..” I added. “But I want to.”

*********

bite me

“I might hurt you,” he said and there was concern in his eyes.

“I might hurt at first. I know that. I have read…..” I stopped. That sounded stupid. “If we go slow and you’re gentle…… I promise I’m ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, assessing, considering. I could see he wanted it. The more certain I became of that, more certain that a grown man wanted my body, the more I wanted him.

“I am ready” I said, and this time I was clear. Certain. Eager.

He took a pot from the side of the bath and poured hot water over me, washing the soap from my body. He took a single towel and pulled it over my shoulders. It covered my chest and stomach but nothing else. He scooped me up and took me back down to the sitting room. The logs were burning brightly now and the room was very warm.

He sat on the big sofa, me in his lap. He pulled me close, one arm around my shoulders and one around my legs. He was strong but gentle. I felt secure in his arms. He leaned forward slightly, pulling me to meet him. Our faces got closer. I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine. This first kiss sent an electric thrill all down my spine to my bottom.

It was tentative at first. A series of soft kisses with closed mouths. Then a longer kiss. Then his lips parted, taking my lips with them. His tongue darted forward and it touched my tongue. Our mouths opened wider and we explored one another. It became hot, wet, full of saliva and lust.

His hand move slowly down my spine. I shivered. My bottom was hanging off his lap and he cupped me. He tenderly explored with his fingers, touching my scrotum, my buttocks, the area around my hole. I felt myself flushing red again as we kissed and when he finally placed a single finger on my anus, my face flushed hotter still. I was excited and shy and I had nervous butterflies in the pit of my belly.

He rubbed me there. He rubbed and pushed, exploring my elasticity, my size, my readiness. In return I held his face and kissed him harder. He brought a finger to our mouths and licked it. We both did. As we continued to kiss, his wet finger found my hole again and he pushed. The tip slid inside me. I flinched momentarily and he started to pull back from the kiss, but I wanted this. I wouldn’t let him. I followed him as he pulled away and within a second he was back with me. He got the message.

His finger moved around slightly. It felt amazing, so much better than when I did this to myself. So much better than with Gabe. This was no clumsy teenage fingering, but an experienced man who knew what he wanted. He was only in by a tiny way, just to the first knuckle. He pulled out and then pushed back in, using his finger tip to slowly get me ready.

He move his other hand now. He pushed my legs open and ran his hand up my inner thigh. He caressed near to my penis as he gently fingered and kissed me.

I wanted more of his fingers and I wanted to touch this man’s body. I turned in his lap, straddled him, and stripped him of his shirt. He had a chiseled body, hard and muscular. The dark hair on his chest felt manly to my young senses. My hands were all over him, his chest, shoulders, his face and in his hair as we continued our passionate kissing.

He brought both hands to my bottom now. He gripped my buttock with one hand and returned his finger to my hole. He caressed, probed, an explored me down there. Sometimes he would slip the tip of his finger inside me, other times he’d just circle my hole and drive me crazy with desire.

Suddenly he was getting up, my weight on his lap causing him no difficulty. He placed me back on the sofa, my knees on the seat and my body over the back of the chair and facing away from him. I pushed my bottom out. Was this it? Nervous energy welled up inside me.

And then his mouth was there and I moaned and whimpered uncontrollably. Surely nothing could be this good in real life? His big hot tongue lapped at my entrance as he spread my cheeks with his hands. I ached my back and swivelled my hips, giving him all the access I could give. Then his tongue was probing me. The tip had become firm and he was pushing it against my hole, wriggling it around, drooling saliva and pushing its way in. I took deep breaths, every ounce of my focus on that area, on that feeling.

A finger came to join. It pushed inside me easily with all of the saliva lubricating its passage. The tongue followed. It was just the tip, but it felt unreal. I forced myself to relax and to breath and then another finger pressed against my hole and slid inside. Two fingers and a tongue. I was practically cross-eyed.

Another finger from his other hand. And then a fourth. They took it in turns to dip into me, smearing spit around and inside. His two index fingers pushed into me together and he gently, carefully pulled them apart. My hole was being manipulated, lubricated, stretched out and made ready. His fingers ran around my rim as they stretched me. The feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced.

Then the third and finally the fourth fingers were back. Two from each hand. They slid effortlessly inside me now and the big man pulled his hands apart. He was strong, but sensitive to my virginity. I could feel the stretching action, but he didn’t hurt me. All the while his tongue was there, darting in, licking, lubricating. My flesh came out in goosebumps and I moaned again.

For a brief moment the fingers were gone. Then the tongue was gone. The sensations ceased, leaving my anus feeling loose and wet and hot and ready. I was about to protest, to make him come back, until I heard the soft sound of fabric on skin as the man removed the last of his clothing.

Oh god! This was it. For real now. My stomach churned with nerves, but I welcomed them. I felt more alive in that moment that ever before and I was certain I wanted it. I pushed my bottom out as much as I possibly could and I gripped the back of the sofa until my knuckles were white.

I felt his big, hard cock. He rubbed it against me. He pushed it around my little crack. I heard him spit, sensed him using his hand to coat the head of his penis with his saliva. Then it was there, right in that spot, right on my anus. I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes tight shut.

The man held my hip with one hand and he kept hold of his cock with the other. He pushed from his hips, slowly, deliberately, carefully.

I felt my ring expand as the tip of his cock pushed forward. I felt my anus part wider than it had ever gone. There was a stinging sensation and I felt like he couldn’t go any further. I squeezed my eyes even tighter and ground my teeth and gripped the sofa as the pain built. I considered asking him to stop, but it was a split second thing and I pushed that thought to one side. No, I wanted it. No mater what, my virginity was be taken tonight.

I moaned, almost groaned as he reached the broadest part of his cock head. My anus was splitting despite the foreplay, stinging and aching. Then it was in. The head just kind of popping through and he was there. My ring closed a little, gripping the shaft of his penis as it continued to slide up inside me. I breathed, I sighed and I relaxed.

As realisation dawned, I smiled and my smile turned into a grin. This man was inside me. He was fucking me. I was actually being fucked. I moaned loudly. I couldn’t help it.

The man grabbed my other hip and continued to push. He filled me up, pushing further and further. And then he stopped pushing. He stopped and he waited. He caressed my bottom, ran his thumb around my ring. He ran his nails along my back and leaned over and played my my earlobe and touch my neck. He allowed me time to get used to this new thing inside me. To get used to these new feelings and sensations.

I relaxed. I was full in a way that I just can’t find the words to describe. I pushed back a little, tentatively at first and then more deliberately. “Fuck me” I said. I don’t know where that came from and I flushed red with embarrassment.

The man chuckled softly. His hands returned to my hips and he pulled his cock out of me a little way. Then he pushed back. That feeling of his flesh on mine….. incredible. He did it again, this time traveling a greater distance. Then again. He fucked me in long, slow strokes that made me whimper with delight. It didn’t hurt any more. It just felt sensational.

He picked up speed, alternating between a shallow, grinding action and a deeper, fast fucking. I moaned and moaned, the breath being pushed from my lungs and my rectum filled with hot, throbbing penis.

He slowed and I though, this is it. He’s going to come. But he didn’t. He pulled himself out of me, and incredible feeling in itself. He spat again and smeared it around my hole and inside too. He gently moved my body, turning me around and laying me back on the seat of the sofa. He got on his knees on the rug, pushed my legs back and pushed his cock into me again. I gasped. It felt so tight, but the head went in easier this time and he quickly resumed his fast fucking action. He leaned over me awkwardly and we kissed.

We were sweating now. The heat of the fire, the heat of our passion…… I could feel a little trickle run down from my hair line, down my temple. I closed my eyes, focused on the man’s cock as it slid in, pulled out, slid in some more. There could be no doubt. I liked guys. For sure.

He pulled me off the sofa. He sat on the rug with his back to the fire and pulled me into his lap. I crouched and he pulled me down, lowering me onto his erection once more. This time it slipped inside with ease and I tilted my head back as it buried itself inside me. It was bliss.

He took hold of my buttocks and lifted me, he placed his face on mine and kissed me. The sheen of sweat on his skin was beautiful. I placed my hands on his shoulders and we fucked some more.

I could feel he was getting close and my own cock was literally drooling with precum. I was desperate to feel his cum inside me. He pushed me back so that I had to balance with my arms out behind me. That gave him access to my cock, which he held with one hand, the other still grasping my bottom.

I rose and fell on his penis and he played with mine. I was panting now. Desperate. Passion and lust crashed in waves inside my inexperienced body. Just as I felt I could take no more of these wonderful sensations I felt that familiar tightening of my scrotum and I hit the plateau. I pumped cum over us both and on my third ejaculation he grunted and thrust up with his hips. I felt his hot, wet juices shoot far up inside me. “Oohhhhhh” I moaned.

He pulled me into him again and we slowed and slowed and slowed our fucking to a stop. We kissed slowly, his cock spent but still lodged inside me, mine spent and twitching between our bodies.

I grinned and then laughed an exhausted, deeply satisfied laugh. He joined me.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too much” he said as our jag of merriment subsided.

“It hardly hurt at all. Just a little going in the first time. But I loved it. I can’t believe we did that!” I said, unable to wipe the grin off my face.

He was grinning too. “You were pretty damn good, especially for a first timer!” He said. I kissed him again.

We remained there on that rug for the longest time just touching, occasionally kissing, cuddling together like old lovers. Eventually his cock slipped from my hole signalling an end to our sex. He carried me up to his bed, I placed my head on his chest and we slept.

In the morning the man was up bright and early. It was still dark outside. He woke me with a kiss. “You want to get your old friend back?” He asked with a smile. I nodded, bleary-eyed, still glowing from last night. I was tired, but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity. The man found me a pair of shorts that were way too big, but they had a drawstring so they wouldn’t fall down, and a sweater that was too small for him. It swamped my slight frame, but it was warm and it smelled of him.

Over the space of half an hour we put up a small tent in the graveyard. The man told me that I should get inside and try to go back to sleep. He said that when Gabe came to see what went wrong with his scheme, he’d do something to terrify him. I should remain in the tent at all times he said. He told me not to worry. Everything was going to be alright.

Before I closed the zipper on the tent, he leaned in and kissed me one last time, his tongue snaking into my mouth and making me feel hot. He winked at me and took the zip, closed the tent, and there was quiet. I lay down on the blanket he had provided. I closed my eyes and re-lived my first sex and in the dark and with those thoughts in my head I quickly drifted off to sleep again.

I woke to an ear-splitting, blood curdling scream. I sat bolt upright. I reached for the zipper and then stopped. He had told me to remain here. The sound had gone. Maybe I should wait.

I did wait. I waited and waited. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard sirens in the distance, getting closer. Then they were near. Car doors slammed. Feet were running. Someone grabbed the zipper from the outside and ripped it upward, flinging the tent open. It made me jump.

A police officer stuck his head inside. “You alright son?” He asked. He looked worried. I nodded. Yeah, I was alright. What was going on?

The police officer took my hand and I stepped out of the tent. There were other police officers here too. I began to worry. What had happened?

“Are you unharmed?” The guy who seemed to be in charge said to me. He held my shoulders and peered into my eyes.

“I’m fine!” I said. “What’s going on?”

“One of your school friends, I guess, was here a short while ago. Something about a dare?” He said, looking stern. I did my best to look sheepish. I nodded. “Well, I think you’ve been very lucky tonight. Your friend was confronted by someone. Said the man had a huge knife and chased him. We think maybe an escaped convict from the next county over. We’re checking. Your friend is physically unharmed, but he’s a gibbering wreck at the hospital right now. He eventually got out that he’d left you behind, so we got back here as quickly as we could!”

I frowned. Maybe the man had gone too far. Maybe it wasn’t the man at all. I started to worry that maybe the man - I realised I didn’t even know his name - might be in trouble himself.

“Where’d you get those clothes from, son?” The officer asked. “We know your friends left you here without a stitch. It’s okay, he told us.”

“From the m……” I paused. I didn’t want to get my man, my saviour, into trouble. “From the house around the back of the church.”

The officer frowned. “What house?” He said. “Not the old groundskeeper’s cottage? You went in there? That was pretty foolish if you don’t mind me saying!”

My frown of confusion deepened. Why was it foolish? I started to walk, and then to jog, and then run. A few of the police officers were close behind me. I felt a pang of cold deep within me. We rounded the church, found the gap in the wall, and ran to the little stone cottage.

I stopped dead. There it was. It was the cottage from last night. But the roof was caved in and the walls were covered with black charring. It was a ruin, long since abandoned.

“Yeah the is the old place. It burned to the ground maybe 30 years ago. Killed the groundskeeper. There were stories about him being one of them homosexuals…… there’s a rumour that some men from the town burned the place down with him inside. I don't know about that. A lot of old nonsense, I guess.” The police office said. “You went in there to get some clothing? I’m surprised you found anything at all in there!”.

My mouth hung open. I was confused beyond words. The police officer was worried about me and insisted that I be taken to the hospital to get checked out. I went to visit the rest room and checked myself out. I touched myself. I sat there on the toilet in a daze. I knew I’d had sex. That much was clear. I was sure. Totally certain.

My life from that point took a different turn. Gabe’s star waned, the subject of much persecution for having been chased by ghosts or a mythical axe murderer or some other shit he had obviously made up, while mine was in the ascendant. I had spent the night successfully in the old graveyard, even slept through Gabe’s nonsense. That made me cool even if I was gay. Two other boys had the courage to come out and we became fast friends. I started seeing one of them and we’re happy.

I never did understand what happened on that night. I don’t know if I dreamed it, or was drugged, or what. I have my own ideas and none of them involved anything bad. I’d spent halloween losing my virginity in the most wonderful way and that’s all there was to it.

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