Converting An Asshole To A Cum-Slut free porn video

Converting Mike Davenport from Asshole to Cum-Slut
Erotic fiction by Outsfguy
10-07-2013



Background:


My name's Rex, and here's how ten years ago me and my buddy Bruce got even with our class, no-class, asshole bully – Mike Davenport. We're all about 25 now, so you can do the math.

Here's the background on why this k** deserved to get his ass revenge-****d. First of all, Mike was a sexy mother-fucker; tall, lanky and full of nervous energy that came out in spurts of meanness. He had a moptop of dirty-blond hair that covered his ears, and that shook when he jerked his head around. He did this a lot because that seemed the only way he would smile; twitch his neck and look goofy at his crony pals. He had a peach fuzz 'stach trying to come in on his upper lip, which was full and naturally blushed like the skin of a nectarine. As I say, Davenport was hot. His cheeks also blushed when he was being bad, so we saw that a lot too. As our school didn't allow jeans, he liked to wear Levi cords, and his pant-seats always seemed to be rubbed thin. I liked looking at his ass. It was full and his pants were tight enough to actually see his cheeks tightening when he laughed and jerked around. He preferred his gray corduroys more than the others, and the fabric around his zipper was as thin as his ass-crotch; like he was always stroking his dick through it under the desk in class.

I had biology class with the turd, and one day I lent my book to a k** who had forgotten his that day. He was supposed to copy the assignment, and give me the book later. Instead, Mike bulled the guy, swiped the book once he knew it was mine, and took it to an out-of-the-way boy's room near the biology lab. There he ripped the covers, dumped it in a urinal and pissed all over it. Even today it makes my blood boil to picture him. I always see it from the book's angle – him taking out his cock; him spreading his yellow stream from side to side; him jerking that wicked smile all over his fucking sexy lips. Maybe he took his balls out too and wagged them around. I like to imagine that, because if I were there, I could punch him in the nuts and see him double over and piss all over his gray cords.

In a couple of days, I had to tell Mrs. Oates the book was gone. She said: "I know," and plopped the yellowed and warped monstrosity on her desk before me. It was dried out, but still stank of urine. Without turning around I could hear Davenport and his cronies slap each other's arms and suppress snickers. "Thank you," I had to say, and walk back to my lab table as the whole class wanted to laugh their asses off. "Fuck!" I whispered to Bruce as I sat down. He heaved a hateful sigh, and glared momentarily at the cause of my disgrace.

Bruce and I had been playing around since the beginning of the year. We were best friends and open to explore each other in total freedom. We hadn't fucked yet, but done everything else on the weekends that I stayed at his house, where we hung out in his huge basement room. Nice and private! Bruce had darker and shorter hair that he spiked up in front, and big brown eyes. It was those eyes that made me open up to him about wanting to kiss him. He was always using those Bambi-browns to scan me when I said something he thought was 'amazing.' First time we did it, we were sitting on his couch. I picked up his hand. He swallowed down hard, his lips parted, and those eyes scanned me long and deep.
"Well," I asked, fumbling with his fingers "can I kiss you?"
"No," he said real quiet "I want to kiss you."
Anyway, that's how we started.

An hour after biology class we were standing in the lunch line. As we got up to the tray stand, Davenport came twitching along.

He shoved his arm in front of Bruce's face; he cut in line to grab a tray. Bruce slapped the arm back. Mike spun on him and got up into his face.

"Watch it, fruit," Davenport sneered "you don’t want to meet me outside. That I know. You'd get your prissy ass whooped; you and your piss-book boyfriend."

Bruce got wide-eyed. He closed his mouth and did the unexpected. He handed a tray to Mike and let him in line.

After the bully had turned his back, I tugged hard on his shoulder: "What the fuck…"

"I got this." is all he said.

At the end of day we were to meet up in the hall by the front door. The bell had rung, and most of the k**s had already gone out to get their busses. I was staying the weekend with him, so I waited for Bruce. Out the glass door I could see Davenport with his back to me. He was standing in the grass nearby playing with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and goofing off with his best crony.

I didn't hear him come up, but Bruce said real soft into my ear. "Good."
I turned to him.

He shoved his backpack at me. "Hold that Rex. It's fight time."

"No," I said "you'll get in trouble."

"You like being called a fag by the likes of him?"

"Shit no, but he's probably queerer than you and me. That's why he's a fucking homophobe."

"Maybe. Well, yeah. I guess that's always true. But, buddy – this is war –
and Davenport has humiliated both you and me. Time to vanquish, and bury."

Bruce took off his windbreaker and tossed it over my shoulder. He hiked up his pants and made a look at me with tight lips, like he was more than determined.

He went out and I followed. Bruce walked straight up to Mike cracking his knuckles. Davenport's crony made a chin jerk to Bruce coming up behind Mike. The k** turned and Bruce shouted: "Raise your hands."

Mike did, but he put them out in front of him like 'don’t hurt me.' He was walking backwards.

"Fight, fucker!" Bruce shouted.

Mike stopped moving and formed two anemic fists. Bruce nearly cold cocked him with his right hook. Davenport's alabaster cheek took it flat, and Mike made a pitiful sound, like someone had stabbed him in the gut. Bruce landed another punch, this time a left straight into the punk's chin.

His crony pal lunged towards them, but I blocked him.

Mike tried to punch, but by this time he was crying, and I'm sure not able to see precisely where Bruce was.

Bruce landed a one-two square on the bridge of Mike's nose, and he fell like a sack of potatoes.

Bruce straddled him. "Stay the fuck away from us." Mike pulled up his knees and shielded his face with his elbows – showed us what type of 'man' Davenport was, for if he were in Bruce's position, he'd fall on his defeated victim and continue to whale on him. Instead, Bruce genuflected and grabbed the torn collar of Mike's shirt. "Understand!" he barked as Mike flinched.

The beat-down bully mumbled: "Got it." He felt for and saw blood coming from his lip.

Bruce stood.

Bruce hocked a loogie a foot or so from Davenport's ear. Then he walked to me still breathing hard, but his angry look softened with every inch towards my smile for him.

I d****d my hero's windbreaker on his shoulders and checked his face. Mike's blows had been like baby punches, but it gave a moment for those baby-browns to scan me, and for me to give a silent 'thank you' in return.


The Lead-up to the Conversion


I wanted my revenge too, but I wanted mine in private. Two weeks after the fight, things were set.

I was sitting on the couch in Bruce's room. Next to me was Mike Davenport, the baboon, draining a bottle of beer. Bruce sat slouched in an armchair next to Mike. On the TV was porn; some vanilla stuff, with a white chick getting nailed. Mike was playing with his crotch; wearing thin that already worn gray corduroy. Bruce and I exchanged a knowing head nod, as Mike tipped back his third bottle of Bud to the dregs. He was a lightweight, and we could tell he was already drunk. I held my bottle in the air to Bruce, and we air-toasted our plans high chance of success.

Bruce took a swig and leaned forward. "You like pussy porn?" he asked the baboon.

"Fuck yeah I do. See!" He gyrated his hips up and showed his boner. His head bobbed his blond moptop and a smirk broke out all over his body as a shudder.

"Thanks for coming over," I told him "it's best that we all make nice. Bury fuckin bygones, and shit."

Mike jerked his sneer onto me. His cheeks were flushed and rosy from alcohol. "Dude, you sound gay. I'm sorry, but fuck."

"Oh yeah," I said real calm "you wanna know what I think?"

Davenport pursed his lips; a fart of a laugh sputtered though them. "Well, not really, but what the fuck – it's your beer!" He held up a fresh bottle to my lips and tipped it some. I grinned as he held my eyes, drained half the bottle and unzipped him. He shivered and blinked a moment, then he maneuvered his elastic, popped it out, and started stroking his fat cock. It was a lot larger than I imagined and the head was peaches and cream, just like his cheeks.

I stood up, and so did Bruce, but Mike didn't look that way. His eyes were big and locked on me. I kicked my legs wide on either side of his ratty sneakers and reached down. I took his hands and pulled back. I made him stand.

I played with the front hem of his polo shirt and slowly lifted it off his head. His stiff dick got a lot harder and hit me in my stomach. He shook his mane of hair after the collar was over it. His chest was alabaster pure, like his face, but little tufts of dirty-blond hair crowned his tits, and made a line down his belly to his pubes. These were full and hung out with his cock and balls from the front of his open cords.

He said all soft, like in admiration: "I knew it; you're gay."

I bent down to tongue his nipples. They both grew erect. He moaned and his hands explored my back on top of my shirt. I kissed his chest and reached back to take him gently by the fingers. I licked hard on his salty-hot right tit, and held his hands together behind his back. I moved to the left one. As I teased it with a grating of teeth, Tom handcuffed Mike Davenport. As soon as I heard the click, I bit down, and Mike Davenport yelped in pain.


The Conversion


I shoved him hard. He fell backwards on the couch and landed on his hands. As he was squirming to get most of his weight off his wrists, Bruce sprang around to my side and yanked Mike's pants off by the cuffs. He hate-punched them at Davenport's face, where they landed to cover his head. I was ready with the duct tape. Bruce pined the punk's knees together and I tied his ankles up with several rounds of the grey sticky stuff. I yanked off his tube socks too. Davenport squirmed out from under his Levi's like he needed air.

Mike screeched: "What the fuck!" But tears were rolling down his face just like when he had been beat down to the grass by Bruce. He was afraid and in pain.

Bruce straddled Mike's waist with his knees on the sofa cushions. He wrenched Davenport's moptop with long and brutal fingers at the end of his hair. He yanked his head back hard on the sofa back and stared him down. "You're gonna shut the shit up, right? Act like a good little fucking bitch, right! Or, do we have to duct tape your mouth too? Hum!"

Mike shot worried glances between Bruce and me. Little beads of sweat appeared on his peach-fuzzed upper lip. He licked at them, and then asked sheepishly: "What are you going to do?" His limp dick was hanging over his balls pinched up by his elastic waistband.

I told him: "Me and Bruce know who the fuckin queer is! By the time we're done with you, you're gonna sweat our DNA out of your pours, and crave our cum in your ass like a d**g in your blood."

Bruce unzipped. His cock was fully hard, and he forced it out of his jeans. He slapped Mike's cheek, not super hard, but enough for a sting. Davenport glared at him, and clenched his lips. Bruce pulled back his hair again and bent down. Mike wasn't expecting it, but Bruce forced his tongue into the punk's mouth. He kissed him hard and the bad-boy moaned and let him be tongue-kissed. Bruce righted himself, put one arm on the back of the sofa for support, squatted and slipped his dick effortless between Mike's sloppy lips.

"Fuck yeah!" Bruce lolled his head back. Apparently Davenport was a good cocksucker.

His tip slid in and out; in and out, each time going deeper until Mike was making gagging sounds and salt water ran down from the corner of his eyes.

Bruce stood, yanking Mike up with him. He roughly turned him and threw him face-forward over the back of the sofa. The punk's knees were on the cushions, his waist bent over the back, and his cuffed hands flailed helplessly in the air at the small of his back. I took my pocketknife and cut off his briefs, making sure I jerked up hard on the fabric as I cut. The edges cut deep into his balls and inside thighs. He winced and cried out. Bruce put his Nike's sole against Mike's forehead. He shushed him like a baby. I tossed the shredded briefs on the cushion by the bully's knees.

I spread his ass cheeks and spat at his hole. I used my middle finger and rammed it in. Mike tensed up, biting on my fuck-finger with his pucker muscles.

"Relax," I told him "think of Mickey Mouse, or Christmas – or fucking go to your 'safe place.'" I laughed and pulled out of him almost all the way.

I worked a new glob of spit into his spinster slow and deep. Mike cried out: "Stop!"

Bruce laughed, and picked up the tattered shorts. He looked at the ass crack panel and frowned.

He squatted down to Mike's ear. "Tut, tut, queer boy. You left a shit sk**. See?" He put the dirty crease up to his nose. Davenport turned away.

Bruce grabbed our victim's jaw and turned him back.

"See!" Bruce got loud. "Disgusting. Just like you, prissy-ass."

I let my finger get pushed out, then positioned my thumb. I slammed it in.

Mike began to scream, and Bruce shoved the k**'s dirty panties full into his mouth. My buddy stood up akimbo as I fucked the brat, and the brat thrashed around like a dying fish.

"Come here." I said; my free hand beckoned. Bruce lifted off his tee-shirt. We both leaned in, letting our weight fall on Mike's body. He pulled off my shirt, making me rip out of Davenport's ass for a moment. I shoved it back in, and the punk grunted in what sounded like pleasure. Bruce and me leaned in again, but as our lips grew close, I stopped him.

"This slut's greedy ass needs your spit too. Give me some."

While I jammed my thumb all the way to the hilt, Bruce worked his jaw up and down several times to make a big wad of spit. We came together and frenched, and his tongue guided his fat roll into my mouth.

I yanked my finger out, and let Bruce's gift of spit drool down Mike's ass crack.

"What else we got to use?" Bruce looked around. He came around to my side of the couch. On the end table was Davenport's half-drunk bottle of Bud.

"Mikey boy," he sang out "you ever get forced to take a beer enema up the ass?"

The punk thrashed around as much as he could, wiggling his naked hole before us. A grunting and stifled: "No, no, no!" came from around his underwear.

Together Bruce and I grabbed him by the shins and waist. We lifted him farther up the back of the sofa. His peachy cheek landed on the carpeted floor, and his ass was almost vertical, and sexy as fuck. It was glistening with Bruce's slobber half in and half out of his tight, virgin hole.

Tom grabbed the bottle. He rimmed it with his spit-slathered lips, and I spread the punk's ass crack wide open. Bruce put his thumb over the edge of the bottle and tipped it upright at our victim's hole. He pulled his finger back and shoved the bottle in. Mike moaned – like he really liked it.

Glug; glug; glug – the foaming beer slowly drained into him.

I felt underneath him. Not only was Mike hard, but the back sofa cushion was slicked with the bully's precum.

"That's it, Davenport," Bruce crooned "take your bottle like a baby. Come on queer, suck it dry." Bruce tapped hard on the bottom several times, making sure every drop oozed into Mike's backside, then he grabbed it by the base and fucked his hole with it. Mike really began to moan; his eyes closed from intense pleasure.

I had my go. I jammed it in to the shoulder of the bottle and twisted it around. Mike actually responded by thrusting his ass higher in the air so I could go deeper. While I did this, I pulled Bruce into me and we kissed and sighed into each other's mouth. This was fucking exciting. In a frenzy of tonguing each other's lips, teeth and tongue, I pulled back and whispered in his is ear: "Save some cum for me, ok. I want you to fuck me too."

His eyes scanned me a moment; his brown tenderness questioning my sincerity in a gentle way. Satisfied that I was serious, he nodded and half smiled. He continued to kiss my neck. I returned to the bottle and yanked it roughly out of Davenport. He let out a beer fart. Bruce and I laughed. All that foaming gas in him smelled yeasty and ripe.

"You hold that potato chip bowl." Bruce told me with a wicked leer. I grabbed it as he went around to the front to Mike. He grabbed the punk by the shoulders and lifted him up. I shoved the bowl in position, and Bruce made Davenport squat on his knees. His beer enema erupted out of his ass and doused the chips.

"Squeeze it out good." Bruce cooed in his ear, and Mike moaned – I guess he liked that too.

After a couple more little spurts, his ass was empty. Bruce slapped our victim's cheeks – one, two – then took the gag out of his mouth and gestured for me to hand over the bowl.

"See," he told Mike "nice and clean back there now. Clean as a fucking fag whistle! You liked; didn't you?"

Davenport just glared at him. Bruce picked up a chip – a dripping wet chip – and shoved it in Mike's mouth. The punk tried to spit it out, but Bruce held his jaw closed and made chewing motions for him. Then he massaged Mike's throat to induce swallowing. He let the k**'s mouth go and Mike inhaled with a gasp.

"Give him more!" I said. Bruce did, and in a moment, Mike's expression changed to one of relish. He actually licked the salt from Bruce's fingers, making my buddy stroke his prick with his free hand. He guided this engorged cock head to Davenport's lips, and the punk sucked greedily.

Bruce growled in pleasure as Mike gripped onto his shaft with stiffened lips and walked them all the way down to the base by the nuts close to his body.

I grabbed onto Mike's head from behind and made him gag on my buddy's cock, then I let up, and face-fucked him with it. He continued to moan and deep-throat on his own, so I went back to his ass.

I licked it, spreading his cheeks wide. He tasted like beer and punk; slightly salty and definitely ripe for the taking. He squirmed and came backwards onto my tongue. I slipped my finger in and continued to lick both it and his flexing hole I worked my spit into him and he sucked Bruce with increasingly short breaths. Bruce put his hands on the top of his head and looked up. He closed his eyes.

"Suck it, cocksucker." Bruce sighed to the ceiling.

I got up and went to Bruce. We kissed and our hands explored each other as Mike watched and moved his mouth towards my stiff prick. His wet lips played at my pee slit and I flared up. He liked that, 'cause he licked his upper lip where I had spilled some precum. He sucked on my head, and I drove my tongue into Bruce's mouth with a grunt. Mike sucked to mid-shaft and pressed my cock head tight to the roof of his mouth.

I detached my mouth from Bruce's and caressed Davenport's dirty-blond mop. "Fuck yeah." I told him "Who's the fucking fag now? Suck it like you want it up your ass!"

Bruce pulled me back into his open embrace, and my head back onto his tongue. The punk on my dick sucked twice as hard. He did wanna get fucked. But then he paused.

"Guys…" he started meekly "…I'll be good. Unlock my hands…please."

Bruce and me looked at each other. "What do you think?" he asked me.

"Fuck!" I yelled at Mike "You're gonna run away, asshole."

"No," he said all apologetic "I…I like this. I wanna feel you guys. Come on."

"Undo his hands." Bruce said to me. Then he said to Davenport: "We're leaving your feet bound so you can't run."

Mike smiled like a dolt and nodded his moptop.

I took the keys and uncuffed him. As Mike was rubbing his wrists, Bruce came around and grabbed his bound ankles. He spun him on his ass and dragged him to the arm of the sofa. He lifted Mike's lower back onto of it and shoved his legs back down towards his face.

Mike's hands moved towards my thighs. He pulled me into him, and I got the idea of what he wanted. So, as Bruce began to drive the punk wild by rimming him, I sat on Davenport's face.

His tongue-licked my scrotum, and he took one of my nuts in his mouth. He sucked on it gently and jacked my dick. He let my ball loose and licked the underside of my ball sack real hand. I hunkered down, and his tongue slipped back to and over my asshole. He licked it long and smooth. I used my left hand to brace me on Mike's chest. I could feel his right arm moving – he was stroking himself.

"Fuck yeah," I told him "eat me good, ass-licker." The punk responded by tongue-fucking me and groaning as he did. I looked back to Bruce, and he stood up. He positioned his cock head at Mike's hole, then bent forward over his legs and belly to kiss me. We tongued each other's mouth and Mike went crazy on my hole. I had to moan in Bruce's mouth. "Now, fuck him" I whispered.

Bruce straightened up. He hocked a nice thick piece of spit and rubbed it just on the tip of his dick. He put it on the tight little pucker and leaned in on it with pressure. His head slipped into Mike, who groaned full volume into my nut sack – which felt great.

Bruce nearly pulled all the way out, and slammed back into the bully. I got up, and kneeled by the side of the sofa. I pushed Mike's mouth onto my prick. Bruce pummeled him good, and with each long fucking down-stroke, Davenport's cock got harder and harder. The precum drooled out of his pee slit, and Mike used his hand to push my balls back so he could get my dick deeper in his throat.

Bruce shoved punk legs to the side, twisting his victim's ass around his shaft. His cock sank deeper into Mike, and Mike began to breath uncontrollably on my pubic hair. I glanced over, and as Bruce power-slammed him the deepest yet, Davenport's cock erupted in a huge hands-free orgasm. He shot cum all the way up onto my shoulder, and squirmed as he came so the jizz landed in his own hair. Bruce fucked him deep again, and another spurt came up to soak Mike's ear. Another slam; another squirt and out if control breathing.

Bruce leaned over and put his hands on Mike's waist. He fucked his hole by staying in deep. A wet and sloppy sound was coming from Davenport's abused hole.

I used my index finger and scooped up his cum. I fed it to the punk, and he licked the fingers in his mouth like they were covered in potato chip salt.

"You bitch," Bruce moaned "you're gonna make me cum in you." I moved my head and kissed him. Instantly he shot hot spasms of air into my lungs. At the same moment, he injected a ton of spunk in the asshole's guts.

"Fuck yeah." I told him, keeping my lips tight on his "Seed him good and deep – make him taste you in the back of his throat."

Then I slapped Mike's cheek. "Make you a cum-slut. Yeah, that'll teach you who to mess with."

Mike's eyes were narrow. He was spent and exhausted, but his hand went up to the back of my head. He pulled me down and parted his lips. I spat into his mouth, then tongue-fucked his passive orifice. I slobbered around and his tongue played with mine. He panted and moaned like a bitch as Bruce raised his body off of him and pulled out his dripping cock.

"You too..." Mike pleaded with me softly "…please."

As Bruce plopped in the armchair, I found my pants on the floor and rooted in my pocket. I opened my penknife blade and cut a straight line down the duct tape. I peeled it off and Mike raised his legs to help.

"Stand up." I told him.

He swallowed and jumped to his feet with a head nod. I grabbed his ass cheek and shoved him towards the staircase. When we got there, I placed my hand on his upper back, and made him lean far over so that his hands had to brace themselves on the steps. I used my feet and kicked his legs wide apart. Bruce's man-cream dripped out his ass and drooled helplessly down the back side of his thigh.

I fingered up my buddy's spent cum and put in the palm of my hand. I spat a slick wad from deep in my throat to mix with Bruce's seed, then I slathered it around the tip of my cock. Mike was stroking himself again.

I shoved my upper thighs up against his ass, and pushed down on his shoulders to make him squat more. This opened up his hole for me to punch, and put his ass in my lap. My dick slid in without resistance to the balls.

Mike squirmed and jerked his head back to me. I ran my fingers through his hair and felt his hole burn with lust for my jizz. His boi-cunt was soft and smooth, and felt like I was fucking hot satin; like diving drunk and swimming though living silk ecstatic. His every fiber gripped me and made love to my cock as it fucked him mercilessly.

I set up a regular stroke and Mike sighed every time I pulled out to my head, and grunted like a bitch as I sank back to slam my balls against his meaty backside. He bent over to get me in deeper, but I said: "Fuck no, bitch. Stand up and take it like a man!"

I grabbed him by the throat with the inside of my arm and jerked him upright. He half stood and half squatted – the best he could do as he had a throbbing cock up his ass!

Bruce came up behind me. As I renewed my stroke and kissed the back of Davenport's shoulders, Bruce spit on his fingertips and slipped it in my ass. It felt fucking wonderful. That k** knew exactly how I liked it – a little rough around the edges, then gently as he went deep.

I felt his slippery cock head in my crack and I positioned Mike deeper into a crouch so Bruce could get into me. He held still, and as I fucked our victim, his cock head entered me too. He was really hard and I didn’t know what I'd feel. I moaned uncontrollably, shoved my dick all the way into Mike and felt Bruce take charge from behind. His dick was strong and he pushed the shaft to half way and then withdrew completely. A moment later he was in again and going deeper. My hole twitched in lustful spasms on his prick and he liked that. My reaction was to pummel Davenport and bite the nape of his neck a little bit.

We three got into a fucking rhythm. Bruce laid his cheek flat on my shoulder blades as he pumped me, and I worked hard on the hickey I had stated on the punk's neck. Mike sighed and moaned, the purple monster grew under my teeth and mouth suction, and then I nearly shot my load. Bruce's tongue found the outside ridge of my ear. His panting breath entered it. "Rex…" he started, and then whispered something to me; something I felt too, but it was still unexpected.

After a couple minutes more of making 'the b**st with three backs' – LOL! –
Bruce gasped loudly: "I'm gonna cum!"

I shoved Mike down till his hands hit the steps, and pulled out of him. As his floppy head watched us, I extracted Bruce out of me, and he came in a straight line on the shaft of my cock. His jizz was molten hot, and I kissed him as a reward for excellent aim.

I took that cock covered with my pal's seed and brutally jammed both into Davenport's gaping hole. In another couple of stokes, Mike was chopping on his breaths like a fan blade and jacking furiously. As he came, his hole spasmed tightly on my shaft and sent me over the edge. I spurt time after time into his greedy abyss. His hole continued to orgasm on my injection device; grip, release, grip release. Straight into his guts, Bruce and I seeded this bully turned cum-bitch deeply and simultaneously.


Aftermath


Things turned out 'different.'

You see, the next weekend me and Bruce were on his couch downstairs playing a video game when we heard his dad call down the steps.

"Visitor." is all he said.

We looked up. Mike Davenport was already standing on the bottom tread. He came down, grinned all goofy, and jerked his moptop around a bit. Then he kicked off his shoes, undid his corduroys, and turned bare-assed to us. Like in slow motion he put his hands behind his back and crossed his wrists.

We went up to him. My finger slipped into his pre-moistened hole; I'd say it was sucked in, actually. As I fingered him he moaned like a bitch in heat, and Bruce grabbed him around the neck. He forced Mike's ear back to his mouth.

"Back for a refill of cream up your ass? Hum?"

I got a second finger up there, real tight, all the way to my palm, and twisted.

Mike Davenport's breath caught in his throat; his hands caressed the lower arm of Bruce where he was forcibly restraining him.

"Yes. Oh God – please." he sighed.


˚˚˚˚˚

For eighteen months or so, we filled Mike up everyday in back of school, in his bedroom, in Bruce's basement, and once or twice I force-fucked him in the same out-of-the-way john where he had pissed on my biology book. We had turned him into a totally submissive cum-slut. Then he got a girlfriend, whom he eventually married, and spent all his time with her. She was good for him, and so was our spunk, for Mike Davenport calmed down a lot! Anyway, good riddance to the bully that we fucked right out of him!

As for me and Bruce, after we went away to separate colleges, we started dating properly: hand-holding in public; kissing in front of our folks; that kinda stuff. For you see – and I suspect you have already guessed it – the first time he fucked me, was also the first time he told me he loved me.

Three years ago we got married. A big party! A new life, and now we have two k**s of our own. Mindy, our princess is two and a half; and our son is one, and totally bratty. And, we named him after his godfather; Mike.

~