How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) 📗

The guy started to freak, screamin’, “No!  No!  Don’t!”

I started pumpin’ into him, faster, deeper, my own breathin’ gettin’ to be as fast as his.  Lenny kept milkin’ him for all he was worth.  Then he leaned down an’ licked Shayes’ shaft.  Shayes tensed up, tighter than I’ve ever felt any of my punks do, an’ his ass squeezed hard against my dick an’ I almost shot my wad, right there.  But I held on.  Barely.  An’ I kept pumpin’.

Finally, Shayes’ dick was about as hard as it was gonna get.  An’ I felt Lenny’s head down there, suckin’ on it.  Shayes’ cried out an’ started hollerin’.  Didn’t do a damn bit of good for him.  I was still rammin’ him an’ Lenny was still suckin’ on him an’ he was still tied to the bed an’ his legs were still caught in my grip.  An’ finally, after maybe ten minutes of us workin’ on him, all he could do was let it rip!

He jolted.  Almost pulled himself off me an’ did yank his dick from Lenny’s mouth.  An’ then he started to fire!  I mean, he splashed shit all across Lenny’s face an’ onto his own gut.  Some of it whipped up to land on my chest an’ it seemed to go everywhere.  I just held on, but then his ass slid back down on my dick an’ he gripped me so hard, I couldn’t hold back anymore.  I plowed deeper into him an’ let go.  Let go until my balls ached from the spasms.

What’s wild is, I was so lost in the whole crash of -- of feelin’s an’ emotions an’ fireworks an’ all, I didn’t know when Wayne an’ Lenny pulled me back by my hips to let my dick slide out of Shayes so the camera could catch it spewin’ all over the guy.  All I know for sure is -- when I was finally done, I collapsed on top of Shayes an’ curled my arms around him an’ ground my dick against his in a way that seemed like religion.  An’ then...an’ then I kissed him.  On the lips.  Full an’ complete an’ gentle an’ without hesitation.  My mouth seemed to mold into his, an’ I tasted somethin’ salty an’ moist.  Maybe my cum, maybe his, maybe just the sweat on his skin.  An’ I...I think -- I’d almost swear -- no, I’m sure...abso-fuckin’-lutely sure...he kissed me back.  An’ somethin’ behind my heart gave a leap.  An’ I almost started to cry from it.  Then I drifted away, wishin’ I could stay there with him, forever.

Chapter Seven

I had this dream while I was out -- I think it was a dream.  I think it was then.  Anyway, I was flyin’ through the sky, all in my prison clothes, on my back with my first girl.  The first girl I slept with -- what’s her name — Ramona.  Yeah, Ramona Verdugo on top of me.

Shit, ol’ Ramona.  I hadn’t though about her in years.  Golden skin.  Raven hair.  Eyes so brown they looked black.  An’ tits?  Oh, man, she put melons to shame.  Fuckin’ Ramona.  We were hot an’ heavy in high school -- her a junior, me a freshman.  Didn’t make sense, but we collided in a hallway one day like a couple cars on the 101 an’ stayed stuck to each other till fuckin’ Anthony got me busted.

Anyway, our first time together was up on Zuma Beach, north of Malibu.  Her old man had this primo ‘57 Dodge Coronet convertible.  Red with white trim an’ interior.  Little fins on the tail.  Looked like it was flyin’ even when it was sittin’ still, an’ nobody was allowed to drive it but him.  Threat of death kind of shit, y’know.  So this one day early in spring, we cut class an’ she palmed the extra set of keys she wasn’t supposed to know about, an’ I drove us down the Ten an’ up PCH.  It’s funny -- fifteen years old an’ I already knew how to drive, smoke an’ drink football players under the table.  An’ I had that nice little business goin’ in the “weed” department at school, so I always had money.  Yeah, I had my mom an’ her fuckin’ husband tryin’ to lay claim to some control over me, but that wasn’t goin’ anywhere.  So all in all, life was good.

God, that Dodge could go.  Even with its too-cool push-button automatic.  It had a V-eight with power enough to snap your neck if you hit the gas too hard.  An’ drivin’ it that first time, glidin’ up the coast on a perfect California day, Ramona beside me, her left hand in my crotch workin’ me up, my right hand around her shoulders an’ strokin’ one of her tits -- I was fuckin’ king of the world.

We played on the beach, the rest of the day, then grabbed some sandwiches from a grocery store close by an’ talked this stoned surfer into buyin’ us a six pack.  He brought us fuckin’ “Miller Lite” for Christ’s sake.  An’ when we were done eatin’ an’ it was dark, we put up the top an’ got busy in the back seat.

Damn, that thing was so wide, you could stretch out on it.  I mean, I could then; I was still growin’.  An’ Ramona, she’s small for the size of her tits.  So we got all hot an’ heavy, kissin’ an’ touchin’ an’ grabbin’ -- she liked to grab my ass, for some reason -- then we whipped a blanket over us an’ I unzipped an’ popped out an’ slipped inside her without a thought.  Shit, I’d seem my mom fuckin’ guys so many times, I knew exactly what to do.  I remember bein’ impressed -- not surprised or happy or freaked out -- at how nice it felt before I went at it.

As we got