As Anton entered, the lithe figure that had been lying on one of
the bunks arose to a relaxed position of attention to greet him. He
was about a year older than Anton, though he looked perhaps a little
younger than him. In many ways he was similar, a little lighter in
build, but clearly athletic. He was black haired, with a light olive
skin – the hair thick on his head and brows, but his body clear, ex-
cept for the inevitable dusting on his legs and lower arms. The per-
fect tan of him was the product of hours under the sun, with due care
to the arrangement of lighter and darker shadings to emphasise his
good looks. He had chosen to keep his sexual midriff white, always
wearing briefs, because he liked the bright contrast of the darker
stomach and thighs and the dramatic shock of thick black pubic hair.
He answered to Jag, or `Lightning Loins’. His voice was as smooth as
his skin and as dark as his hair.

Slowly Klaudio worked. This had to be a good one – a better one
than a quick hand job – but he could use only limited resources for
fear of spooking his charge. A short burst of speed had Anton groan-
ing, and the feet started working. His hands, which had released the
grip on the sheets now clutched them again, but from ecstasy not fear.
His body began to arch up, but Klaudio knew how to change his grip at
the right moment, holding him there for a full minute before reducing
the stimulation to allow him to get his breath. Anton’s face now
looked very different. The strain that showed there now was from a
different stable, and the open mouthed smile was real.

Five times did Klaudio make his loins rear up and hold him there,
until he was crying out to be allowed to come. Then he came – shooting
high to land on his taut, flat belly. Klaudio risked trapping the
later spurts with his lips pressed to the eye of Anton’s glans: he was
too far gone to notice even if he had bitten the end off. He reeled
back, practically in a faint. By the time he was taking notice again,
Klaudio had cleaned him up and zipped his flaccid weapon back into his
fly, and began the language lesson as if nothing had happened.

He closed the book, laid it flat on his stomach, and passed a hand
down to grasp his shaft, then he began the work of the hand on the rod
of iron. His technique was obviously practised, but unsophisticated.
Writhing; delicious: he was a toe wiggler. The thigh muscles filled -
full buns with deep side hollows and a clean division between the
curve of the bun and the straighter convexity of the under-thigh. As
the knees came up, the deep top grooves were clear, and most inviting.

First time was in high school while a paperboy. I was collecting
and used to be kidded about my getting tips. I played along even
though I wasn’t sure what the joke was. The two guys were young,
in college I think and always friendly.
I used to love to go to their apartment to collect because they’d
always be lifting weights or horsing around. Usually one if not both
were partically dressed….shorts or jockeys and nothing else. My
cock always got hard.
When those hot summer humid nights came I’d wear my gym shorts at
night and during one July night knocked on their door to collect
my bill. One was in a jockstrap and the other was in a pair of jockeys.
Both were glowing with sweat..they were wrestling or something.
They wrote a check and seemed genuinly embarassed because they didn’t
ahve cash for a tip.
The usual jokes soon resulted and one of them kept looking at my
crotch..my cock was hardening as usual..and in my short that was
clearly visable.
One of them told me to finish my rounds and then come back later..not
matter how late.
He patted my butt as I left which made my dick hard.
I heard them laughing and saying something about making me feel good,
and taking care of my “problem” later. The door wasn’t closed as
they said all this so I assumed they wanted me to hear it.
I finished my rounds and made it home…after saying goodnight to
the folks, I remembered the guys and snuck back out.
They were still awake when I knocked..I apologized for being so late.
They offered me a beer…which made me feel older..so I drank it.
One kept lifting weights and soon had me trying it. As I moved to
the bench the other guy pulled my tee shirt off saying I didn’t want
to get it all sweaty.
I lay on the bench and learned about bench presses trying not to
look up at the crotch of the guy standing at my head..spotting me.
The other one held my thighs down..saying it would be good for me.
I lifted a few times…loving the feeling the weight gave my bare
chest. The one spotting me took the weight and put it one th floor.
The other one had moved his hands up into my shorts and found my
teenage cock and balls. I gasped at his touch.
The one at my head took off his shorts and the sight of his dick
made me want him..though I didn’t know what that meant.
By morning I did.
Cock had been in my butt, throat..and my dick had been in both of
their throats and assholes.
I slept between the two of them..and stood in the shower while they
soaped me up..and one sucked me while the other fucked me there.
I got back home and told my folks I had slipped outside for some
exercise..which wasn’t exactly a lie.
After that, I always had fun delivering their paper and collecting.
I was their paperboy..and pretty much knew they controlled me.
If they had a guest over, I was given to the guest to please them
which I didn’t mind at all.
My acne cleared up..my chest grew from the continued weight training.
When they moved away, I cried.
But I grew too and soon serviced others on my paper route and elsewhere.