================================================================= BASTARDS WHO FUCKED OVER ME ================================================================= 3 Lloyd and me after school Gilbert and I had been "seeing each other" quite a lot and for quite a long time when I guess he felt the need to assert his masculinity and his heterotude by knocking up his girlfriend. We were all fifteen at the time. I think at that time girls had to be fourteen and boys sixteen to get married even with parental permission. I don't know who pulled what, but we saw the girl's family's minister sneak into Gilbert's house one Sunday afternoon after the girl and her people were all over there being very quiet. You'd-a thought somebody died from something embarassing. I assume this was a licensed ceremony and all. Why he went for her skinny little ass I'll never know. I've never been small, but, thanks to the diet drug rage of the time, Dexedrine Sulfate [speed!], I was merely stocky. I know I had to be a lot more comfortable to climb aboard than that little bonebag. I hope he got bruises banging her snatch. I'm not surprised he knocked her up though. He alway came like a flood. Many times I had to go sit on the pot and drain after a good fucksession. They went to live in a mother-in-law houselet behind her parents's place. I saw almost nothing of Gilbert after that. Whenever I did see him, he seemed terminally embarassed. I wonder why. Could it be because you just dumped your favorite fucktoy? -- you two-timing bastard! I hope your dick falls off! I saw the two of them and their stroller in Encanto park when we would have been about eighteen. St Peter on rubber crutches, Gilbert sure had filled out nicely! I hated the cunt even more because she was getting the one in whose back >I< wanted to be digging my nails. Since my supply of good dick had suddenly been cut off, I had to find a replacement. My next prey would have been Lloyd of the straight chestnut locks and a real Prince Tiny Meat. I didn't know whether he could do my hungry hole any good. It was a moot question because he and his family moved back east some time before. We all went to a high school with roughly 4,000 students. This must explain why I never knew that Lloyd had come back to town until we had a chance meeting in the library one day. He asked if I was doing anything after school. I called my mother and told her I had an invitation to Lloyd's house in the Kenilworth district. When we got there, nobody was home. Nobody was expected to come home at any time soon. Uh oh. What's going on here? Lloyd wouldn't say, but I think he'd heard about Gilbert and me in some way after they moved back to town. Lloyd went to his father's liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of creme de menthe. He poured us each a snort. I had never tasted anything alcoholic except for some prescription cough syrup which burned my throat terribly but certainly stopped the cough. I was apprehensive but took a tiny taste and found out I liked this sticky green stuff. We each must have had two good shots before Lloyd decided we'd better quit cuz the bottle might look too empty. I felt funny and flushed. I don't think Lloyd was feeling any pain either. His mind was working. The next thing to happen was the deck of cards came out. He suggested we play some poker. I barely knew poker hands from a hole in the ground. I think maybe he was counting on that. After losing all my pocket change, we were getting a little bored when he suggested the game could continue if we played strip poker. With more important stakes, I began to play more carefully. Nonetheless, I was out of clothes in short order and Lloyd was down to his briefs. There was now no mistaking Lloyd's intentions because he was sporting a respectable boner. We went into his bedroom where I sat on the bed. He walked his hardon right up to my face and pressed it against my lips. Eat me, he said. That thing certainly had grown in the intervening years. It went from a mere inch to a good five inches. The shape of it was as round and cone-headed as any dick I have ever seen. It somehow reminded me of a farm silo. He was circumcised so skilfully I noticed no scar. It was like his dick came out of a mold. I sucked on him without much enthusiasm. Playing mouth organ is not really my thing. I guess I just don't have a G-spot in my throat. My almost purposeful lack of technique prompted him to get down to brass tacks and say he really wanted to try fucking me. That's more like it. I gladly got on my belly. He spat in his hand, rubbed it all over his cock, and then spat in my crack. Why do I think he'd done this before...? It was a competent if unremarkabe fuck. He wouldn't return the favor but he did grudgingly allow me to fondle his ass while I beat off. With both of our sexual appetites satisfied for the moment, we took off for the hamburger joint a few blocks up the street. Since he had all my money, Lloyd was generous enough to buy me some "dinner". As it was getting late, I took off on the bus for home. Lloyd never accepted my invitations to come over to my house. I wanted to get some more miles in on that old cot in the den. During the following summer after we'd turned sixteen, he got his driving license and a used car of his own. Many of my summer days were spent at the church where I played organ for services. I'd discovered Johann Sebastian Bach and was busy going through the first three volumes of the edition edited by the noted French improvisateur-organist Charles Marie Widor and the humanitarian- theologian-organist Albert Schweitzer. There I was in the middle of putting the pedal bass line together with the manual parts of a fugue when I heard a banging on the sacristy door. I stopped playing at the fugue, demounted the bench and went to the door. Who should be there but Lloyd! I was kind of surprised. He said he went to my house and my mother told him this is where I said I was going (and that I had better be there if I knew what was good for me). Lloyd certainly didn't want to hang around and hear me play, especially since I didn't do C&W. That this instrument was the most well-equipped model of Hammond Organ made at the time, and one of the best of all the electronic organs, made no dent in his sensibilities. I thought he might at least want to look at the electronic/mechanical guts. No, he's was a carbueratorhead. Oh, well... He took me to Pete's Fish & Chips for lunch where we gorged on oysters deep-fried in a molasses-flavored batter and poked fun at the trailer trash customers. He reminded me of the "fun" we'd had over at his house that time and he wonder if we could have some more "fun" like maybe today, like maybe right now. I asked why we couldn't go to his place. His father was home. I knew his father from before when he lived in the same tract as I did. His old man was quite cranky and probably had me pegged as a fruit because he certainly had no use for a nerd like me. We couldn't go to my house because my mother was home doing her Martha Stewart number. I knew my father was busy farting around in his workshop that day. We wouldn't be able to try to smash the cot... There just seemed no place we could go. We didn't have the cash to rent a motel room on the US 60/70/80/89 strip through town even if it wouldn't have raised eyebrows for us to do so. That left one place: The church office. I wasn't too cool about doing that because there were too many people with keys to the building. Even if we locked the office door, we wouldn't be able to answer it quickly enough to avoid suspicion of being up to no good. And if it was a church official with an office key, we would be more than screwed blewed and tatooed... Lloyd was horny. I was horny. We sat in his car in the vacant church parking lot and I was giving him a half-hearted handjob. He was clumsily fooling with my left tit trying to get me hot enough to capitulate to an iffy assignation. I wanted that cock. It had grown even more and was now the size of a three D-cell flashlight. I just _knew_ it would be excellent stuffed into my personal organpipe. C'mon, let's go for it, I said. It was no time before I had my pants and shorts around my calves and was on hands and knees with Lloyd spitting in his palm again. Unfortunately, his endowment was of such proportions then that spit and determination wasn't going to make it happen. I made a quick trip to the choir room and got the can of special oil used in maintaining the tone generators of the organ. I wish we hadn't been so nervous and apprehensive of sudden detection, for I think in using Hammond Organ Tone Generator Oil I sort of invented the first astroglide. Given the stressful circumstances, it was a totally awesome fuck! Lloyd blew too loads of spoo into my entrails and was satisfied. After he pulled his pants up, he started to realize what we had done. Jesus, we just fucked in _church_, man! We're gonna go to Hell for sure! God will _never_ forgive us for this! Then I got a little bit scared, too. I wondered if my ass would slam shut and fester as Divine Retribution. Lloyd sure changed once his balls were emptied out. He said he didn't want to see me any more and don't try to contact him. Fine. I agreed. All I need is somebody hanging around who's so capricious. The end of the story is a bit of a letdown because that's what it was, a big letdown. I never saw Lloyd again. =================================================================