I was getting to the edge. My cock was buried in my fuck buddy Ben and I pistoned in and out of him hard. I knew I had a little time left. I was high on pot, and that always gave me more stamina, even though it made me more horny.

We had come home after our jobs and gotten high, me on marijuana, he on harder stuff, which I hated. We were sitting opposite each other on the floor of his room, t-shirts off, shorts on, bare feet just inches apart. Within an hour we were stoned, paging through sex magazines commenting on boobs, pussies and cocks. I scooched down and brushed my toes along his soles and brushed along his toes. He moaned. After a few minutes of that, I slid closer to him and ran my foot along his jeans-covered cock. And not much longer, he had his butt in the air and his face on the bed, my cock pounding in and out, my hand on his hard dick stroking him in rhythm.

I was getting close, but his moans told me he was closer. I speeded up to get there at the same time, but I also inadvertently sped up the action on his penis. He groaned in short breaths and I felt the warm ooze of his cum on my hand.

Damn. I didn't want that to happen until I came, too. I knew what would happen. And it did. He collapsed onto the bed, my cock coming out of him, and he passed out. FUCK.

I tried to get my cock back into him, desperate to come, aching to come. The head of my cock itched with need. The shaft tingled, so near to coming. But he was limp, unresponsive and dead to the world. I tried to find his hole, but there was no way I could get back into him without his help. I wasn't going to get it done, and I was so mad I refused to use my hand to finish myself off. He was my best friend, but I hated him for taking hard drugs.

I slipped on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt and went out to the family room, angry, frustrated and with cotton-mouth. His brother, two years younger than us, was there watching TV. Nine, his nick-name, was cuter than his older brother, but I'd never really thought of him as anything but a pest. He always wanted to do what we were doing, and was always trying to go with us when we went out. It had always been that way, and we had spent most of our youth alternately dodging him and teasing him. In the last year, though, he had become a sort of friend, especially when his brother had passed out and I had resorted to watching TV. We talked quite a bit. I saw him look at me now and then when I didn't have a shirt on, but I didn't think much of it. He was too young, and I knew he had no idea what his brother and I were doing.

I looked at the kid, and realized he wasn't the scrawny pest he had been. He was getting tall, and his after-school and summer job at the lumber yard had him pretty well built. He was in a T-shirt and shorts, and still had his socks and sneakers on. His sneakers were old and worn, and his socks has holes in the calf. His family was really poor. His dad had died in a traffic accident when nine was just a little kid, and his mom, who hadn't graduated high school, worked two jobs to keep food on the table and pay the rent for the trailer lot.

"My brother out of it?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"How're you?"

"Fine," I lied through bloodshot eyes, barely able to stand I was so high. I collapsed into an ancient easy chair.

"Wanna beer?" he asked. "I bet you got cotton mouth."

"Why would I have cotton mouth?" I asked, straight as I could.

"Gosh, I don't know," he said with too much irony in his voice. "Just thought you might be thirsty."

"Okay, sure."

He brought back the beer. I opened it and took a huge slug. I couldn't help myself, but I knew it would get me drunk on top of being high. I figured I'd better be on my way home soon while I still could. It was a fairly long walk.

We sat and watched TV for a while. Nine glanced at me now and then, but I was trying to concentrate on the show. He got me another beer, and I sucked that one down, too. I was slipping further into helplessness. Still horny as hell, too, and just waiting for the kid to go to bed so I could jerk off. I was coming to terms with having to do that to relieve myself for the night. Going home was becoming less of an option - again.

"Hey, Jake," he said finally.

"Uhh," I grunted.

"Can you help me with something?"

"Wassat?"

"I have a splinter in my foot, but it's so small that I can't get close enough to find it. Can you look for me?"

"Uh, sure," I said blearily. What Nine didn't know was that I have a thing for feet. Wherever I am, I look at guys' feet. I love them. When I have his brother on his back and my cock buried in him I usually have several of his toes stuck in my mouth, sucking on them. He loves that, and I do too. The saltier the better, but I love fresh, clean toes, too.

Nine wasn't like that, though. He just needed help with a splinter. I knew there was no way I could see a tiny splinter in my condition, but I couldn't say no.

He lay down in front of the chair between my bare feet and raised one of his to my face. He had taken his shoe off, but the sock was still on. His heel shown through a silver dollar-size hole, and there were smaller holes on a couple of toes.

"Come on," he said impatiently.

I was already hard just with the aroma coming from a sock he had worn all day. I didn't figure he'd notice me just hold his foot for a moment right under my nose while I inhaled. I actually inhaled twice, but I know he couldn't tell. He just thought I was taking my time.

I held his leg under the calf and slowly began to strip the sock down. It was still a little sweaty and I had a little difficulty getting it around he heel. Of course, I was drunk and high, so my coordination was a little off. I think he suspected I was a little out of it, but not bad. I ran my thumb up his soft sole as I worked the sock off, then spread his toes with my fingers as the sock came off. He flexed his toes and then stretched them, and the teenage boy foot smell was heavenly. I held this foot in both hands and pretended to look at it.

"Where's the splinter?" I asked.

"Uh," he replied with a deep breath, "in the sole. Right in the arch."

I held his foot up to look at it, and breathed in again. I couldn't see a damn thing. I ran my thumb over the sole and asked if I had hit the splinter.

"Mmmm, no," he said. "Look closer."

I became aware of something else about then. His other foot was propped up on the seat of the chair I was in. It was right in my crotch, pressing against my dick. I figured with his foot he couldn't tell I was hard, but I was. I was rock hard, ready to burst, and horny as hell. I wanted to hump against his teenage foot and get off, but I knew I couldn't. I did figure, though, that since he was concentrating on what we were doing with his right foot, he wouldn't notice if I sort of pressed my penis against his left one and just held it there. I did, and he didn't even pay any attention.

"C'mon, Jake," he said. "Look harder. Get closer."

I brought his foot right up to my nose and pretended to look. I couldn't focus on anything but the smell and his other foot on my cock. I inhaled again.

"Can't see anyfing."

"Anyfing? Jake, are you fucked up?" he giggled. Hi pushed his foot into my face. I was in heaven. If I hadn't been fucked up, I would have come right then.

"A little."

"Fuck, no wonder you can't see anything." He pushed his foot against my face again, but this time two of his toes went into my mouth. I licked them without thinking, but I don't think he noticed. Oh, god, this kid was driving me crazy and he didn't even realize it.

"Okay," he said. "It's not that bad. I'll live."

I continued to hold his foot in my hand. It was so soft. I started to rub it a little, mostly because unless I did something I was afraid I would pass out from the pot and beer.

"Hey," he said. "Can you give me a foot massage?"

I love to give foot massages. I sometimes give some of my high school football teammates a foot massage. I've done it dozens of times. I've had all kinds of feet in my hands. Sometimes they ask for a massage before they shower, when their feet are raw and sweaty from practice. I love the smell of sweaty feet. Sometimes I give them after a shower, when their feet are fresh and renewed. I've had huge feet in my hands, with long toes and sharp knuckles. I've had feet with crooked toes, short toes, webbed toes, hammer toes and perfect toes. I've had hard soles, soft soles, feet with calluses, feet with the beginnings of bunions and feet soft as a baby's butt. And every time I have to go home and beat off.

Nine's feet were perfect. Pinkish-orange soles. His feet were clean. His big toes were perfectly proportioned, and then each of the other four toes on each foot were perfectly aligned, each slightly shorter than the one before it. The pinkie lay snugly against the ball of the foot, and the ball of his foot was just a little harder than the sole. When I flexed the foot inward on itself, the skin made a few large ripples across the sole.

I massaged his Achilles tendon, which I love to do on myself. He moaned, and I squeezed harder, knowing how relaxing it felt to him. I moved to his heel, cupping it in my hand and squeezing it, rubbing my thumb over it and kneading it. My cock was straining and my mind was a blur. His sole was soft-hard. I don't know how to explain it. I mean, it was toughened from him being on his feet most of the day at the lumber yard, and wearing work boots, but it wasn't callused. It had a firmness, but it gave way under my fingers and thumbs. The ball of his foot was tender, and slightly swollen from my work. He stretched his toes and spread them apart as I rubbed each one lovingly. Then I had an idea.

"You got any lotion?" I asked, hoping the answer was no.

He hesitated, then said, "Not handy. I don't want to go get it." Perfect.

"Well, I'm afraid I'll rub your feet raw. Can I wet them a little?" I figured he wouldn't catch on to what I was up to.

"Um, okay," he said innocently.

I brought the heel to my tongue and lapped all the way up his perfect sole, wetting it all over. The taste was heavenly - boy musk, sox, and a little bit of salt left over from the sweat. I went over and over the sole, making it good and soaked. I worked some more spit into my mouth, then started on the ball. I ran my tongue along the base of his toes, then stuck the toes in my mouth, the big one alone, then the next two, and then the smallest two.

"I 'ust 'anna geh 'em 'et," I said with two toes in my mouth.

He just nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Get them nice and wet."

When I figured I couldn't get away with any more, I began kneading again. I rubbed and massaged until they were dry.

"Other foot," I slurred.

He lifted the other socked foot to my face, and I repeated the whole thing again, but this time as I slid the sock off his heel, I put my tongue there and licked up.

I became aware that his other foot and settled on the chair and the toes were poking me behind my balls, between the scrotum and my hole. Jesus, this kid was killing me, and he didn't know it. My cock was wet and aching.

I worked over his foot until it, to, was dry, then gently placed it in my lap.

"Thanks," he said quietly. "It felt great."

He lay there a moment, then said, "Hey, you wanna watch a movie?"

"Um, okay, sure," I slurred. "Whatcha got?"

"I got Mad Max." We all three loved that movie. We'd laugh through the whole thing.

"Okay, sure."

"All right. Let me go get ready for bed in case I fall asleep," he said. He ran into his bedroom, and a moment later came out in a long T-shirt and his underwear.

He went to the TV stand and began looking through the movies. When he bent over, I realized he didn't have his underwear on, just his T-shirt. His shirt came up exposing his teenage butt. His ass was turned to me, and it was gorgeous. Fuck, Nine had no idea what he was doing to me. I started to tell him that his butt was exposed, but just as I did he spread his legs to look on the bottom shelf, and his pink, perfect pucker presented itself. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I just stared at the hairless ass and the delicate hole sitting in the sweetest cleft I had ever seen. I mean, his brother's ass is great, but this was sheer perfection. I inhaled, and couldn't breathe out. He stayed that way, looking through the tapes, before coming up with one. I wanted to reach out and run my hand up and down that crack. I wanted to touch the sweet, pink rose in the middle.

I wanted to wet my pinkie and wiggle it against his tender spot - my pinkie because I knew how tight it must be. I wanted to touch it and tease it, then put my face against it an inhale that teenage boy scent. Then I wanted to slide my tongue up and down the perfect slit, and finally, work it into his hole and taste him. I knew how his brother tasted - masculine, hard-worked and savory. I figured Nine would be masculine, succulent and innocent-sweet. My hand began to reach out to his fine, fine ass before I caught myself in my impaired state.

He finally stood up, but the shirt didn't come back down. It hung up on his bubble butt. It was torture, until he giggled and pulled it back down with an innocent-sounding, "Oops!"

I breathed again.

"You okay?" he giggled.

"Um, yeah. Just thirsty."

"Let me get you some water," he said. He started the movie, and went into the kitchen. He came back with a full glass, but as he handed it to me, he dropped it. It splashed all over me, soaking my T-shirt.

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, Jake. Let me get a towel." And off he scampered, coming back with a thin bath towel that had seen better days. He wiped me off, but it didn't do much good.

"Why don't you take your shirt off?" he said. I could barely move, so he helped me with it, and I slumped back into the chair.

"Whoa," he said, looking at my chest. "You are built. I never seen you this close."

The workouts for football and wrestling had done good. We had a terrible football team, but even a bad team in our area was toned.

He ran his hand up my bicep to my shoulder, transfixed on my muscles. He put his hand on my abs, where I had a pretty good six-pack. He ran it up my chest and cupped my pecs. He was getting close to danger, and I couldn't do anything about it.

The first time his brother and I had sex together we were wasted. We had been out with a couple of chicks and brought them to his place. Nine was at a friend's for the night, and his mother was at work. I was hoping at least for a blow job, if not a full dick cleaning in a tight pussy.

We smoked a couple joints with them, then made out with them, him and his girl on this very chair, me and mine on the couch, for half an hour. I felt her up and worked my hand into her blouse, then under her bra.

I was hot, and so was she. The snap of her shorts got undone, and I worked a hand onto her pubic mound, just massaging to get her hornier. It worked. She spread her legs as our lips locked together. Her shirt came up, the bra came off, and her nipples ended up in my mouth.

My finger worked its way toward her slit, and I could feel how wet she was. I gently stroked as she began to moan. Her ass wiggled as she lay beside me, my hand in her pants. I found her clit, and I rubbed softly. Her moans became deeper and she hunched herself against my hand. I rubbed harder and faster, and her orgasm exploded over her as she grabbed my hand and pushed it against herself harder.

As her breath slowed and she calmed down, she took my hand out of her pants, and then she buttoned back up.

"Hey, what the..."

"Thanks for getting me off," she said smugly. "But we've gotta go. I've got a curfew, you know."

"What about us?" I asked, because I could see that my friend was equally stunned.

"Sorry," they said, and skipped out of the house.

"FUCK!" we both exploded.

His brother came and sat beside me on the couch.

"That was cruel," I said.

"Yeah, it was. Bitches," he spat.

"Jeez, I've got a severe case of blue balls," I said.

He laughed at me. "Well, get over it," he slurred. Then he reached out and tweaked my nipple.

I have a direct line between my nipples and my cock that I had only recently discovered. Shocked, high and caught unprepared, I moaned. He looked at me and grinned evilly.

"Wow, you are horny, you dog," he said, and tweaked it again. I drew a sharp breath.

"Stop it," I said.

He tweaked again. I was now leaking precum and getting worse by the second. He laughed and tweaked, but this time he didn't let go. He began rubbing it.

"What's the matter? Can't take a little teasing."

"F-f-fuck you," I gasped. He began pinching it lightly, then a little more roughly. All I could do is throw my head back and moan. I didn't want to; couldn't help it. If I hadn't been high I would have had some self-control. Being high made me horny to begin with, and what had just happened with that bitch made it worse.

He scraped his index finger nail over the center of my nipple, back and forth, increasing the pressure. He scooted over closer to me and put his head right by my ear.

"I think I discovered something," he whispered.

"Stop, please," I pleaded. But honestly, my heart wasn't in it, and I think he knew. He flicked lightly over the nipple, back and forth. Then he put his fingertip right on the nib and moved it in a tiny circle. I thrust my hips forward involuntarily, and the bulge in my blue jeans was obvious. I groaned with the pleasure the action caused.

His voice was more breath than whisper in my ear. "I'm so horny. I need to cum bad. My cock is so hard. I need to cum. I need to cum. I need to cum, Jake." His tongue licked my ear.

"Yeah," I whispered back. I was rubbing my cock in rhythm to his nipple play. My nipple was becoming over-sensitive with the stimulation.

"We can help each other," he said as he pinched the nipple hard. I felt a jolt to the head of my cock from the pinch. I nearly fainted. "You need to cum, too. I can feel it. Don't you need to cum. Isn't your cock hard?"

I nodded silently. He changed speed and pressure again on my nipple.

"Your cock is hard. Your balls ache. The only thing to do is to get off. Help me, Jake, and I'll help you. Please, Jake. I need your help. I can help you."

He took his finger off my nipple and held it to my mouth, then slid it inside. I sucked on it and coated it with my saliva. Then he took it out and slid it wet and slick over the nipple again. I groaned with pure lust. The spot just behind my balls tingled from the teasing on my chest. I know it sounds weird, but I thought I'd cum just from the nipple play.

"Jake," he whispered, licking my ear again, "Jake, take your pants off."

It was hard to concentrate. The only thing in the world was his soft voice in my ear and his finger on my nipple. I lifted my butt and slid my jeans and boxers to the floor, then kicked them off my bare feet. He reached down and cupped my balls in his hand, then ran his fingers up my erection and gently pulled back my foreskin. With his thumb he slicked my precum around the head of my shaft.

Ben moved in front of me. He clamped his mouth over that same nipple while he slid his pants off, leaving nothing on but his socks. I held his head to my chest as he nibbled and used his tongue to wash and poke my hard nub. It was almost to the point of becoming sore from all the attention. But it was such a sweet, early irritation that it only heightened the excitement. And it had a direct line to my cock.

Ben lightly stoked along the length, squeezed my balls and returned to my hard penis. He pulled off my nipple and dropped down to take the head in his mouth. If I hadn't been so high and so horny I would have been stunned. As it was, I thrust up into his mouth. He bobbed a couple of times, and pinched my nipple again. It was enough. I unloaded into his mouth with a cry, lifting off the couch and trying to get my whole six-inch cock into him. He pulled back, but not off my erupting rod. Ten, fifteen, twenty seconds I spasmed. I didn't ejaculate that whole time, that was over in about six spurts. I was just rigid from the climax.

His fingers never left the nipple they were toying with, and now his mouth clamped over the other one. I knew what he was trying to do. He didn't want me to lose interest after my orgasm. He didn't want me to realize what had happened - gay sex. He wanted me still horny. It was working. He put his mouth next to my ear again.

"Oh, Jake, you came so hard. I need to do that, buddy. Can you do that for me?" I nodded.

He moved up onto the sofa seat between my legs and on his knees he moved his cock toward my lips. Still massaging one nipple, he moved closer. I willingly opened my mouth and let him in. He moved in and out, moaning with relief. But he hadn't had the physical stimulation that I had, and he was going to last longer. I put my hands on his firm butt and guided him in and out. I kneaded the hard cheeks in my hands and let my fingers find the crevice. He sped up a little bit. I dipped one finger into that dark divide and felt around and found his hole. I had never touched myself there let alone another human, but this felt just right. I pressed against it and Ben groaned.

Taking a page from Ben's book I put my middle finger at his mouth. He sucked it in and wet it good. Then I found his hole again, and slowly slid my finger in.

"Aaaaaah," he cried, and he pushed back against my finger to get it deeper. But that brought his cock out of my mouth, and he cried again in frustration at the loss of contact. His head with thrown back and he grabbed his cock with his right hand trying to find my mouth without looking. He was so out of it from the pot and the stimulation. I opened wide and moved my mouth over his penis, taking him as deep as I could. He's a little bigger than I am, maybe six and a half inches, maybe seven, and bigger around. He pushed in and that almost pulled my finger out. But I stayed with him. I wiggled my finger in and felt something hard, which made him jump.

"Yes, YES! Do that again," he said, but he didn't need to. I saw what it did to him, and I found the spot again, then again. I just sort of tapped it, and within a few moments he shouted and blew his load damn near down my throat. I though I'd drown, because I wasn't quite sure what to do. I pulled back a little so he was shooting into my mouth, about four more spurts, and then I just sort of sucked and licked a little until he calmed down.

We collapsed together on the couch.

I was suddenly snapped back to reality when Nine said, "God, your pecs are so hard!"

I gave a little laugh, because if I had tried to say anything I would have come out garbled. My head was spinning. He moved his hand again, and then it was right over the nipple. The same one his brother and teased so many months ago. He kneaded the pec with his fingers, and then, as I held my breath, his fingers pinched the nipple, hard. He had no clue what that did to me. A spurt of precum leaked from my penis. As hard as I tried not to, I moaned as he did it. I was so awash in pot and beer that I had no control left, and I let the feeling of his 16-year-old fingers on my nipple take me. I wanted to lift him up and slam that cute juicy pucker I had seen a while ago down on my throbbing member and fuck him until we both came.

Fortunately, I was nearly paralyzed, and I did have just enough self-control to stop myself. But he rubbed his finger back and forth over it, almost absently as he other hand felt my biceps. Then he looked down and giggled, "Wow, your nipple really gets hard."

Somewhere in the fog of my intoxication I thought that maybe if I could get him to tease both nipples I could get off without even touching myself.

"Um, yeah, they bothhhh, both d-d-do that," I said.

"What's the matter? You having trouble talking," he asked with a laugh. "Is your mouth dry? Do you need another beer?" In a flash he was off me and running toward the kitchen. This time he was gone a couple of minutes, which was okay because I was getting really tired. I was slipping toward unconsciousness, when he reappeared with the beer.

I didn't know what was wrong with him that night, because earlier when he handed me a glass of water he spilled it all over my shirt. This time as he gave me the beer he spilled again on my bare chest.

"Damn," he said. "Sorry. I'll take care of it." But instead of getting a towel, he straddled my lap, sat down and began to suck and lick it up. Fu-u-u-u-u-uck. He just sort of vacuumed up the center of my chest and the top of my right pec, slowly sucking up the beer. He stopped, went all the way down to my belly button, and started again. Slowly moving up he tried to get every drop. Every last drop. Every single drop. Up, up, near my neck, over to the right, stopping right by my armpit. Then he took a breath, and sucked back down toward the nipple, and when he got to it, he sucked loudly, then sealed his mouth over it and sucked hard while he licked it with his tongue.

Jeezuz! I knew I didn't want him to stop, but I also didn't want him to know what he was doing to me. I had to figure a way to make him keep doing it without giving myself way. Almost involuntarily, suppressing a groan, I brought my right up to his head and held him there.

"Be sure you ged id allll," I slurred. "Jus' ged id all." Precum leaked like crazy from my penis, and it felt cool all of a sudden. Shit, my cock had worked its way out the leg of my shorts, which had gotten pulled up, and was standing straight up. Nine's pucker was just ahead of it on my pubic bone as I slouched in the recliner.

He pushed back against my hand and said, "Let me make sure I got it all from the other side."

Who was I to argue? He moved to my left nipple, and did the same sucking-licking thing. I was gone. Helpless. In heaven. In agony. I didn't think I had enough coordination or stamina to actually jack off, especially since it takes me a long time to cum when I'm stoned and drunk. But maybe because of all the stimulation it wouldn't take as long. I just had to hold out until Nine went to bed. This was torture.

Nine lifted his head from my nipple, but both his hands started teasing them again.

"They both really do get hard," he said. He pulled on them, tugged them and pinched them. I felt him start to get off me as he lifted his butt. One of his hands left my nipple while the other one kept up its unmerciful assault.

Then he sat down again, slowly, a little further back. And I realized that he was holding my cock on his pucker, and was letting it start to penetrate. He had a look of concentration on his face, his little pink tongue sticking up out of the left side of his mouth. He slowly lowered himself onto me, and as he sank down he released his breath in a soft sigh.

It was the greatest single thing I had ever felt

He settled onto my lap, taking my cock fully into him, and leaned forward against me, his arms around my neck. His left cheek was against my right cheek, his mouth right by my ear. He reminded me exactly of Ben at that moment, but much, much cuter.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, just like his brother. "Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me like you fuck my brother. But I'm better than my brother. You know why?"

I could barely shake my head. I was afraid of breaking the spell.

"Because, Jake," his voice no more than a breath. "Because I love you."

I got a spasm that went all the way to my balls. He loves me. I've known the little fucker for ten years and I never suspected.

"I've loved you for years, bro," he said. "I've wanted to make love to you since I was twelve. I want to be naked with you. I want to lick every inch of you from your toes to your ears. I want you to explore me, too. I've been so jealous of my brother, Jake. I want you all to myself."

"Kiss me," I gasped.

He placed his lips on mine softly, and pulled back. He kissed again, lightly. Then again a little more forcefully. Then he settled his mouth on mine and opened his lips. His tongue sneaked into my mouth, and he kissed me deeply and passionately. He explored my mouth, licked my tongue and I realized I needed to kiss him back. I did and he pressed even harder.

He still sat on my cock and hadn't moved at all since he sank onto it. He was warm and my dick pulsed inside. His handed moved to my nipples and again his mouth was at my ear, licking it.

"I've seen you with my brother," he said softly. "I know what you like. Let me make love to you, Jake. Let me take you."

He lifted off my penis, until it was ready to pop out. Then he sat back down. He began a slow, erotic rhythm, and his fingers teased my nipples. His mouth moved back to mine and he started to kiss me again.

He still had his t-shirt on. I clumsily moved my hands to his chest and tried to find his nipples, too. I rubbed where I though they were, but I was just too uncoordinated to be much help. When I gave up and dropped my hands, one landed in my lap near his cock. It too was hidden by the t-shirt, but I did find it and begin to stroke. He let out a soft moan into my mouth.

He sat back and began to fuck me more vigorously, taking his hands off my chest and gripping the arms of the chair for leverage. He quickened the pace and his cock bounced against my abs as he went up and down. He leaned forward to kiss me again and wiggled his ass on my cock. Then he leaned way back and bobbed more. Suddenly he spasmed and let out an "Oh!" as my hard penis hit his prostate. He did that again and again, getting more and more excited.

I was getting excited, too, but I was beginning to wonder if I could cum. Pot always gave me more lasting power, and combined with the alcohol, I didn't know if I'd be able to reach and orgasm.

And then I knew I could. I watched Nine and realized he was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. He loved me. I could love him back. He was like a brother, but now he was a lover. I knew everything about him. I knew he was smart, kind, funny, and lovable.

Except that I didn't really think all those things at that exact moment. I was high, drunk and horned to the gills. This sweet ass on this amazing teenager was fucking the snot out of my cock and I needed to shoot.

"Yeah, fuchk youshelf on my khhhock," I said. I couldn't even talk. "Cum for me, budddh." My eyes lost their focus, and I was afraid I might pass out, just as Ben had done. I didn't want that to happen. I wanted to see this all the way through. I wanted to cum inside Nine and I wanted him to fire one off, too.

"Yeah, fuck me," he said. "Fuck me hard." But he was doing all the work.

He found my mouth again and kissed me. He was panting with breath, and kept saying, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," each time he slammed down on me. He was fucking me faster now, driven by some internal engine that I no longer had, dulled as I was by alcohol and pot. Nine was in charge, and he pushed on onward toward the end.

He sat up again with a loud moan. His hands flew again to my nipples, but he didn't stroke them this time. He grabbed on between each thumb and forefinger and pinched. He pulled and squeezed. His voice rose higher and higher, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, fuck."

Twisting, pulling on them, he said, "Come on, Jacob. I'm almost there. Cum with me, bud. Cum with me. I know you can. Cum with me. Almost there."

Now slamming with all the force of his lithe young body, Nine masturbated me with his ass. It was tight and hot. His legs must have been nearly jelly for all the time he had been doing squats on my rod.

I felt it behind my balls. My cock tingled, my balls contracted. Nine's voice pierced the air as he shouted, "CUM WITH ME, JAKE." With a shout he shot into his t-shirt, and he slammed his ass down on my cock. Suddenly my voice joined his as I shot into him. My cock erupted in one long stream of cum as if I were taking a leak. It didn't shoot in spurts, it roared into his sweet, tight ass. My hips involuntarily raised off the chair seat as I tried to get more of my cock into him. We strained against each other, he pushing down, me pushing up, unwilling, unable to relax, milking each other for every last drop. My hands found his butt and I kneaded the cheeks, causing him to move back and forth on my sensitive penis. We finally exhaled together and the tension in our bodies eased a little. He ran his thumbs over my nipples and I could feel one last, late shot into his smooth hole.

Nine leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back, and then I slid into darkness.

I woke up the next morning in that same chair covered in a threadbare blanket. I had been cleaned up and there was a glass of orange juice with ice on the stand next to me.

I drank it, then noticed a note.

Jake:

Thanks so much for last night. I want to do it all over again, and I want to do more. Don't touch your cock today. I want you to be ready. No pot, no beer, no Ben. Just you and me.

Love,

Nine.