I have to admit, I look like a bit of a wimp partly because I'm a bit a on the scrawny side, partly because I always seem to have books with me, whether it's at my high school (where I am in my graduation year and editor of the school paper and the school yearbook), coming home from the mall, or returning from the town library. I am definitely a bit of a bookworm.

On the positive side, I have one of the biggest cocks in our school - or at least in my gym class of about 60 guys, which is the only place I get to see other guys' cocks.

And it was that not-so-little asset that brought me the friendship of one of the studliest guys in the school. Mark is all that I am not. He is the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome dude all the romantic stories gush on about. He is a leader in everything. He is on just about every sports team in the school and he plays in the band. He always on the honour roll for academics. He is the president of the student council. He is popular with everyone. As I said, all that I am not.

We do have a couple of things in common, though. He also had quite a considerable cock. And, like me, he is also gay. Not that either of us are out to anyone but each other. No-one would dare to call Mark gay, or even hint at it. They wouldn't be believed, anyway. Mark is far too studly!

I guess it was soon after school began in September that Mark noticed me for the first time, although I had been well aware of his handsome presence all through high-school. We were in the same gym class in our senior year, and got to shower together with all the other guys after class. I noticed Mark eyeing up my endowment from across the change room after one sweaty class, just as I was eyeing up his. We both looked up at the same time, caught in the act of checking each other out. I'm sure I flushed bright red, but Mark just gave me a big grin and winked at me. I gave a feeble little smile back. I was afraid my cock would start to swell and expose me for what I am - a fag.

Over the next couple of weeks I often caught Mark looking at me around the school, and I would give him a little smile and he would give me a big grin in return, but we never spoke a word. On those days I would go home, go to my room, strip naked and jerk off thinking about him.

It was when the local fall fair rolled around at the beginning of October that things changed in my life. Always pretty much of a loner, I went to the fall fair by myself — just me and my camera. I always cart it along whenever I go to affairs like this. I sometimes sell a story or a picture to the local newspaper. I found a spot a little apart from the throngs of fair-goers. I was just lining up to take a wide shot of the midway when I heard a voice behind me:

"Not really a very exciting picture, is it, Kevin?"

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Although we had never spoken to each other, I knew Mark's voice. I had deliberately eavesdropped on many of his conversations with others around the school, and would go home and replay the conversations in my head, imagining he was talking to me.

But I did turn around - and there he was! My idol!

"No," I agreed, "not very exciting, but nothing ever is around here. How did you know my name?"

"I asked around," he told me candidly.

"Why?" I replied, intrigued.

"Because I think you're cute!"

His reply startled me. It also shocked me. Was Mark having me on? Was he hoping I'd respond in some way that he would use as a weapon against me? Was he trying to get me to admit I was gay, so he could make fun of me?

I started to walk away, hoping to hide myself among the other fair-goers. Mark grabbed me by the shoulder and swung me round.

"Why are you leaving?" he demanded. We were standing in the middle of one of the main pathways between the many stalls, and people had to move around us.

"I don't like being ridiculed," I told him.

"Who's ridiculing? I'm just being honest," he insisted. "I do think you're cute."

"You do?" I asked, amazed.

"Yes," he affirmed. "What do you think about me?"

"I never think about you," I lied, "but I supposed you're not bad-looking."

"Not bad-looking? Not bad-looking? Come on, now! Surely I'm a little better than that."

"Well, I suppose you're pretty good-looking," I conceded.

"That's better," he grinned.

"So what do you want from me?" I asked, still wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Well, it depends," he told me. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Of course not!" I replied indignantly, pretending affront at the suggestion I might be queer.

"Do you want one?" he asked.

"Of course not!" I stated once more.

"Not even if it were me?"

Now I was sure he was making fun of me. I turned to leave once more.

"I'm not joking," he called after me. "I want you to be my boyfriend — and I don't care who knows it," he added for the sake of a couple of women who had turned their heads at his last statement.

He caught up with me again.

"I'm not joking. I'll do anything to prove it to you. I'll even suck your dick!"

The thought intrigued me. I'd never had my dick sucked by another person, although I could sometimes just get my knob in my own mouth.

"You serious?" I asked.

"I'm deadly serious," he stated. We were right by a hotdog stand. Mark bought one and showed it to me. "I'll suck your wiener down just like I'm going to suck this one down." And he proceeded to suck that wiener into his mouth, drawing it right out of the hotdog bun. He had the whole thing in his mouth and down his throat, leaving an empty bun with just ketchup, mustard and relish behind. He eventually disgorged the wiener and ate it properly.

My cock was hard now, at the thought of him doing that to me.

"OK," I agreed, "Let's go somewhere alone."

"No," he insisted. "Right here. Just slip your dick inside the hotdog bun. No-one will know."

Looking back it was ridiculous to think that no-one would know, but I did it anyway. Partly screened from passers-by with Mark's body, I flipped out my semi-stiff cock and wrapped the hot-dog bun around it. Mark dropped to his knees at my feet, and the next thing I knew, my cock was in his mouth.

But he was mostly right. Hardly anyone even glanced at us, other than a couple of teenage girls who seemed to have the hots for Mark. They were more interested in him than in my mustard-covered cock. Having sucked dick my for a few seconds, he wiped off my cock with the napkin from the hotdog.

"OK," he told me. "Put it away for now. Now do you believe me?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered, in shock.

"So will you be my boyfriend?" he asked again.

"Yes," I whispered again.

"Great!" he exclaimed. "Want to come back to my place? There's no-one home. We can play around."

I just nodded assent, and followed Mark in a state of shock. Minutes before I had been a totally closeted gay teen. Now I was agreeing to be another gay teen's boyfriend and meekly following him home to (presumably) have sex.

As we walked, Mark babbled on unabashedly about himself and his sexuality, and I learned a lot about him in the short walk to his home.

"I don't publish the fact that I'm queer," he told me, "but I have always known. I told my parents when I was fifteen. Mum cried a little at first, but Dad just said, 'Well, at least I won't have to pay for any unwanted pregnancies.'"

"They asked me then whether I had ever had sex with another male, and I told them honestly, Yes, but I didn't tell them it was with Dad's younger brother, Uncle Mike!

I was shocked.

"Your uncle abused you?" I asked.

"No," he laughed. "I abused him. He was staying at our place while Mum and Dad were away for three weeks on a cruise from Miami through the Panama Canal and back to Vancouver."

"I'd always had the hots for him, and the very first night, I crawled into bed with him, claiming I was scared and lonely with my parents gone. He slept naked, and so did I. We both went off to sleep that way — or at least, he did. Imagine his surprise to wake up in the night with me sucking his cock, which I had very carefully rubbed hard while he slept." Mark gave out a little laugh of delight recalling this.

"How old were you? I asked.

"It was three years ago, so I guess I had just turned fifteen. It was a couple of months before I told my parents I was gay."

"So what happened?" I asked, both appalled and enthralled.

"He tried to push me away, to get me to go back to my own bed, but I insisted I knew what I was doing, that I knew he loved it, that no-one would ever find out. He eventually gave in and let me play with his cock. He just lay back and let me do whatever I wanted."

"And what I wanted most was for him to fuck me. I asked him to, but he refused, saying it would hurt me too much. I had never been fucked before, but I knew it wouldn't hurt me much. I had put plenty of things just as big as his cock up my hole.

"What sort of things?" I asked, intrigued. By now I had a raging hard-on. I couldn't wait to get to Mark's home.

"Oh, all sorts of things shaped like cocks - tool handles, carrots, even a garlic sausage. I'd been practising for the real thing.

"Anyway,when I couldn't talk him into fucking me I took matters into my own hands. While he lay there on his back with a raging hard on, I straddled him and sat on his dick. It went into me easily, because I had greased it up with vaseline before I ever got into bed with Uncle Mike. I bounced up and down on him like a yoyo until he couldn't hold it in any more and came in my ass. His cum just gushed and gushed like a fountain, filling my hole, and even dribbled out of me while he was still in me."

"When we were done, we curled up together and went to sleep for real. But we did it again the next morning."

By now I thought I would cum in my pants before we ever got to Mark's house.

"Did you ever do it with him again?" I asked.

"Yes, every day while my parents were away," he told me, "and quite a few times since then. But I've always wanted a boyfriend my own age, especially one with a big dick. And you're the one."

"I've never been with a boy before," I confessed.

"I'd sort of guessed that," he laughed, "but that'll soon be over. This is my place here."

He led me in through the gate of his parents' home and around to the back of the house. The back door was unlocked, as many are in our sleepy town, and inside he took me straight upstairs to his bedroom.

"Let's get naked," Mark said as he closed the door behind us. He started taking off both his and my clothes, unzipping my fly and slipping my pants down. My cock stood out like a pillar under my boxers, and he soon stripped those from me, leaving me in just my tee-shirt with my pants round my ankles and my cock saluting him. He was busy stripping off the rest of his clothes. "Get 'em off," he insisted. When I did, for the briefest moment I felt naked and exposed, then I felt free and relieved. I was also tremendously excited. I was about to have sex for the first time with another boy — well, the second time, if you want to count the quick suck at the fairgrounds.

"What do you want to do?" Mark asked, as he drew close to me and pressed his cock against me. He took both penises in his one hand and clasped then together. "You have a lovely cock!" he observed.

"I don't know," I confessed. "I've never done anything like this before. What do you want to do?"

"I want you to fuck me with this big dick," he said. "It's a beauty. It's just about the same size as Uncle Mike's."

"I don't know," I hesitated. "I've never done that before."

"I know, stupid," he laughed. "That makes it even more exciting. I will be your first fuck."

As much as I wanted to do him, I thought of objections: "Don't I need a condom or something? Won't I get shit on my cock? Have you got some oil or something?" Like Mark, I too, had put things up my shit-hole. I already knew some sort of lubricant made it easier. I knew that if I had had a good crap beforehand, whatever I stuck up there would probably come out clean. And as for a condom, I had never even seen a real one, just ads for them.

Mark laughed and answered all my questions by handing me a tube of something from his nightstand drawer. "Use this," he said. "Now come over here and fuck me."

I read the label of the tube he had given me: personal lubricant. It was the first time I had ever seen a tube of KY. "Just put a little on your cock and on my ass," he said. "Uncle Mike buys it for me."

By now Mark had led me to a chesterfield against one wall of his room. He now bent over it. I did as he said and smeared a little of the clear jelly on my cock, and worked a little more into his hole with my finger. He reached behind and guided my cock-head to his hole.

"Push gently but firmly," he told me. I did as he instructed, and wonder of wonders: his hole opened and my cock head slowly entered him, and as I pushed forward and he pushed back, my whole dick gradually slid inside him. I could feel his asshole muscles grasping me, drawing me further in.

"Oh, wow!" I cried. "That feels fantastic!" It felt so right; it felt so good.

"It feels great for me, too," Mark cried. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

I wanted to. I wanted to fuck him forever. I had never felt a sensation like this before. But my body was too excited. I knew I was about to blast my wad.

"I'm going to pull out," I whispered in Mark's ear. "I'm going to cum any second."

"No!" he insisted. "Cum in my ass. I want your cum in me!" So I did.

When I did pull out of him, Mark stood up, faced me, and took me in his arms, pushing his hard dick against my shrinking one. He drew his face close to mine, then, quite unexpectedly to me, he kissed me, pressing hard against my lips, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue between my lips, forcing me to open and meet his mouth in a hungry reciprocal kiss, the first time I had ever kissed anyone like this, let alone a man. I hugged him back and responded eagerly.

And then he fucked me!

I still remember that fist time to this day. I recall he pushed me back onto the chesterfield, so I was sitting on it. He went down on his knees and lifted my legs in the air, over his shoulders. I felt him smearing my ass with the KY, his finger probing into me. Then I felt massive fear as his swollen knob pressed against my hole. I fought down the fear and tried to relax as Mark was whispering for me to do. As I did, I felt my sphincter open to the pressure. I felt it being stretched by his intrusion. I felt pain, massive pain, and then I felt his cock entering me, and the pain subsided, dissolved, and was replaced by a feeling of fulfilment, of joy, of belonging. My new boyfriend had taken me, had made me his own.

We kissed again while he was still buried in me, Mark leaning forward to bring us mouth to mouth, before he lead me into the bathroom adjoining where we both emptied the cum from our bodies.

My life changed radically from that day. Although he didn't go so far as to announce to the world that we were gay lovers, Mark openly acknowledged our friendship at school and in public. I suddenly became accepted everywhere, no longer the nerdy loner. I was invited to lunch tables at school and to parties out of school. Of course, it was always tacitly understood that it was only because I would be with Mark that I was invited.

But greater acceptance actually brought me greater grief. That grief was in the form of Clark Kent — no, not the alter-ego of Superman! This Clark Kent was a super cunt! He was one of the school bullies, also in the senior class. He had picked on me all the way through high-school, but now that I was a friend of Mark, Clark seemed to set out to harass me even more whenever Mark was not around.

He would verbally accuse me of being a suck-hole, buttering up to Mark. Worse, he accused me of being a cock-sucker, blowing Mark's cock to get in his good books. Although Clark didn't know it, he fact that Mark and I were in truth regularly sucking each other's dicks didn't blunt his barbs.

Clark was actually a good-looking guy, but when he didn't have a scowl on his face he had a sneer on it. It gave an ugly aspect to what might have been a handsome face.

It seemed that whenever I was alone Clark would be there to taunt me. I get the feeling that he was deliberately stalking me. I would go out of my way to avoid places where I might stumble across Clark, but wherever I went, he would suddenly pop up.

I never told Mark about this until one day it all came to a head. Clark trailed along with me all the way to Mark's house while I was on my way there for a little love-making. Clark made all the usual sorts of of taunts. "Cock-sucker, pussy-boy, faggot" were just some of the epithets he used. He kept it up all the way to Mark's. I was practically crying by the time I reached the house.

I let myself in through the back door, knowing Mark's parents were not at home, and went straight upstairs to his bedroom. Mark was laying on the bed, fully-dressed but with his fly undone and his cock in hand, just waiting for me. I went straight to his bedroom window, which overlooked the street. Clark was still hanging round out there.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked, getting up from the bed and coming to the window. I saw Clark start to glance up, and I leapt back out of sight.

"It's Clark Kent," I told him. "He's been giving me a hard time about you." I filled him in on some of the details.

"He used to be a friend of mine," Mark told me, "but we had a fight over some stupid thing – I don't really remember what. But this has got to stop! Wait here! I'll go speak with him!"

"No," I objected. "Don't say anything. He'll just be worse when you're not around."

"Hmm, maybe you're right. I've got another idea. I'm pretty sure he always wanted to get into my pants. He's a real bottom-feeder. You've been the bait. Now let's reel this fish in."

And that's what he did. I watched from the window while Mark went out to the street. He talked briefly with my tormentor, then led him back to the house.

"I hear you know Kevin, Clark," Mark was saying as the two entered the bedroom where I was waiting.

"Uh … well … yes …" Clark mumbled, a little non-plussed when confronted with me.

"I hear you've been saying he sucks my cock?" Mark stated.

"Uh …" Clark began.

"Well, you're right," Mark admitted, "and he's very good at it. You're just jealous because you always wanted to, isn't that right?" Clark turned as if to leave, but Mark had a forceful hand on his shoulder and restrained him.

"Come on, admit it!"

"No, I never …"

"Admit it!" Mark dug his powerful fingers into Clark's shoulder. Clark winced in pain.

"Well … yes," he admitted, almost in a whisper.

"Well, now you're going to suck Kevin's lovely dick, to make up for calling him a cocksucker!"

"No! Never! I won't!" he exclaimed, but Mark was forcing the bully to his knees.

"Get your dick out, Kevin. Clark's going to give you one hell of a blow-job and he's never going to call you a cock-sucker again." I did as Mark suggested, and it didn't take much stroking to make me hard. Mark pushed the kneeling Clark forward. To my surprise, Clark didn't really resist or object. He opened his mouth and took my cock-head in. But Mark gave him a shove, which forced my cock down Clark's throat, causing him to gag and pull back off my cock.

"You fuckers!" he exclaimed.

"Now there's a good idea!" Mark responded. "Maybe you'd prefer to be fucked."

"No! You wouldn't!" Clark cried in horror.

"Yes I would!" replied Mark. "Now get you clothes off unless you want them all covered with lube and cum and who knows what else!"

Surprisingly, that's just what Clark did. It was almost as if he wanted to be fucked. Looking back now, I'm sure that he did. I'm sure that he had been jealous, suspecting that Mark and I were fucking each other, wanting to be fucked himself.

"You'll use some lube?" he asked as he divested himself of the last of his clothes. "And you'll stop if it hurts me too much?"

"Yeah, sure," Mark said as he positioned Clark kneeling on the edge of the chesterfield where I had first fucked Mark himself. "Now Kevin's gonna do you, then I'm gonna do you, and when we've finished you'll be a fag for life, just like us. And you won't tell anyone, because we'll say you begged for it."

"OK, get on with it," Clark mumbled, surprisingly.

So, as Clark knelt there expectantly, Mark and I both stripped off before I rammed my KY-ed rod into Clark's hole, pumping him furiously, as if in revenge, until I blew my wad inside him. Then Mark did the same. At times Clark seemed like he was in pain, but mostly he seemed to be in ecstasy.

"This is not the first time you've been fucked, is it?" Mark suggested as he pumped at Clark's hole.

"No," the boy admitted.

"Who fucks you?" Mark demanded. When Clark seemed hesitant to say, Mark thrust hard into him and demanded again: "Who fucks you?"

"My brother," Clark admitted. "My older brother,"

"Ooh, nice!" Mark exclaimed just as he was cumming, and I was sure whether he was talking about the incest or his orgasm.

When he had finished with Clark, Mark led him to the bathroom where he could clean up and get rid of our cum.

As Clark dressed, Mark told him: "Now get out of here, don't say anything to anyone about this, and don't give my friend Kevin a hard time again," he ordered.

"I won't, I promise," Clark swore as he left, and Mark and I had a nice kissing and smooching session when he had gone.

Clark never did bother me again. In fact, the next time I heard from him was a couple of weeks later when he phoned while I was home alone one Saturday night. My parents had gone to dinner and a show and Mark was away on a soccer team trip.

I didn't recognize the voice on the line at first.

"Hey, it's Clark," he said. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about before. I was a prick."

"Yes, you were," I agreed.

"Well, I'm sorry and …" I waited but he didn't finish.

"And what?" I asked.

"And I'm horny," he finished. "I want you to fuck me again - tonight!"

"You're in luck," I told him. "Mark's out of town, and I'm horny, too. And I'm home alone. Get your ass over here right away, and I'll fuck you silly!"

"I sure will," he said before he hung up.

And he did, and I did. And he did me, too.

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