I approached his cabin slowly. It had been drizzling off and on during the day, so I carried my borrowed umbrella, resting it on my right shoulder. As I stepped up to his porch, he saw me and gave me one of his wry smiles.

“Hello Poetic.”

I stood patiently at the bottom step and looked up at him with a smile.

“Do you have a moment?” I asked.

Boymeat stepped down off the porch and joined me in front of Oink.

“I have something to give you. Could you?”

I gestured for him to hold the umbrella. He grasped the handle and said, “This thing is bigger than you.”

I swung my backpack around, unzipped it, and found another invitation.

“This is an invite to my gang bang.” I replaced my bag on my back and took up the umbrella handle again. “There is information on the time & place. I’ll be providing water and snacks. And there is a list of my safer sex boundaries.”

He looked over the paper.

“So, will I be given ‘special exception’ to put my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“You funny thing. I’ve probably had more cocks in my mouth than you’ve had in yours.”

“Really?”

“What are you at, about fifty cocks?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m easily around four hundred.”

My mouth slacked open in awe and jealousy.

“There were these clubs in New York.” As he spoke, he smoked.

“My favorite was just a plain cement room.” He blew his cigarette smoke to the side, but the smell lingered.

“Fifty guys would stand around the walls of the room.” We were in close, enclosed by my umbrella.

“Everyone was quiet. No one said a word.” I knew there were people nearby, people moving around, but in that moment my world was just my shivering body and Boymeat’s voice singing in my ears.

“I would step to the center of the room, kneel down, and turn my hat around. Can you imagine that? Fifty cocks primed and ready. Fifty cocks in your face. So many cocks struggling to get into your mouth. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The thought of all those men wanting to put their cocks in your mouth excites you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

With every question, I felt more nerves, yet more freedom. Boymeat was asking the questions others hadn’t asked before, hadn’t dared to inquire. And he was just getting started.

Boymeat has a way with words and with reading me. Maybe it was the catch in my breath, or was I holding it? Was it how I scrunched up my body, almost like a coiled spring waiting to pop? Or the way I occasionally bit my lip? Or the expectant, needy, greedy look in my eyes? Whatever it was, Boymeat knew how to read me.

“I bet you’d drop to your knees and suck my cock right now if I let you.”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not going to let you.” I pouted. “I already know filthy little pig likes it when I pee on it, but I bet you’d also love it if I ran my cock between your ass cheeks. You’d still want to suck my cock, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But what if my cock wasn’t clean? What if my cock had a little brown on it? I bet you’d still gobble up my cock, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want that, don’t you? For me to fuck your ass and then shove my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

With each word, I took a breath. Found the courage to answer truthfully.

My answers were never more than a loud whisper, but he wouldn’t let me evade, wouldn’t let me escape. Even as I was admitting to parts of myself I only barely accepted, I didn’t care. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him, how nasty I wanted to be with him, even if I said it in one word whispers.

“You want to lick my asshole, don’t you? And you wouldn’t care if it was clean or not, would you? You’d eat my asshole like the dirty little pig you are, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I bet there is something else you want. Something else I haven’t said yet. Something else a dirty little pig would do.”

“I. I think have to stop. I think I have to walk away. I.”

He had pushed in the right way, slowly and patiently and always waiting for my approval to go on, but Boymeat had found my wall. I stepped back, nervous and scared suddenly for what it all meant, scared about the thoughts that filled me.

“It’s okay. Here.” He unzipped his shorts, pulled out his cock. He lightly grabbed my hand. I stepped forward, back into the bubble of his cigarette scent. He let me stroke his cock, soothed me with the feel of what I wanted in my mouth.

“Okay, you’ve had enough.” He put his cock away. “Go on, scurry away. You have more trouble to get into.”

“Yes. I just. Can you do mean things to me this weekend?”

He gave me another clever smile. “I’ll see you later, Poetic.”

Categorised as: Boymeat | DOF

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