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The First Chapter March 1996. Matthew is 18 years old. To the lost of childhood innocence. Matthew Taylor and his dad is traveling on the Western Freeway when the overwhelming urge to take a leak takes hold. “I gotta take a leak,” says Matthew. “I thought I told you to go when we left,” says his father. “That was thirty minutes ago. And I did go.” “Alright, but make it a quick one, we still have a long way to go.” His father stops at the next truck stop. It is night-time and the clouds had eaten up the moon. The air is chilly for this time of the year and there is a COLES truck parked right outside, the driver nowhere to be seen. “I’ll be in the car if you need me,” says his father. “I’m sure I’ll manage,” replies Matthew. He walks into the store, ask for the whereabouts of the toilet, and the staff points to somewhere outside. He walks out, finds it. It is a public toilet, one long urinal along the wall, and two cubicles, one of which is occupied. He walks to the urinal, pulls out his cock, and as he is pissing, he hears the noise of someone opening the cubicle door. He turns his shoulder around, spots a man standing in the small opening between the door and the cubical, hands on his crotch. There is a smile on his face, and in the dim light of the toilet, can barely make out his eyes. Matthew stands still, even after he has finished pissing. He is not sure what is happening, but curiosity is a magnet that he can’t escape from. The man is not particularly handsome although he is quite fit and muscular, with big hands and soon, as Matthew will see as he continues to stare, a large cock. And that smile on his face that is warmly inviting. He gestures for Matthew to come to him, into the cubicle, but Matthew does not move an inch. He is terrified and breathes deeply in the cool air. He looks at the man’s cock, which is now fully erect. He guess about seven inches, but it is hard to tell for sure where he is standing, so he takes a step closer to find out, and another step, his eyes locked onto the man’s cock. Soon, he is in the cubical with the man with the alluring smile, but he does not see much of the smile for his eyes are now closed, his mouth barely making it halfway through the man’s cock. Matthew is on his knees. The floor is in urgent need of some cleaning but his pants does not care and neither does he. He tries again to bury the cock deep into his mouth but it is too big, gags, pulls away, but two strong hands hold his head in place and he can’t breathe. “Use your nose, faggot,” says the man, without letting go of his hold on Matthew ’s head. He does what he is ordered and soon finds the rhythm, much to the man’s enjoyment. His dad must be wondering where he is right now but his thought is interrupted when the man lifts him up off his knees, turns him around, pushes him against the cubical wall, pulls down his pants. “What are you doing?” Matthew asks, but thick strong hands cover his mouth. One of the man’s forearm has a tattoo of a scorpion. The man pushes a wet finger into his ass, and the unfamiliar sensation feels kind of nice to Matthew, who has never done anything like this before. The rather good feeling is soon replaced with pain as the man’s raw cock enters his hole. It does not fit, of course, for it is too big, but one can always force their way into something if you give it a big enough push. The man’s hand muffles the cry of pain and the plea for help, which does arrive when the door to the public toilet opens. “Are you in here, Matty?” asks his father. “Call for help and I’ll break your neck,” says the man with the scorpion tattoo. “Yeah,” Matthew says, the slow stroke of cock pumping inside him continues. “I’ll be out in a moment.” “Alright,” says his father. “This place bloody reeks.” He stands there for a moment before leaving, and just as the door closes, the man continues his assault on Matthew’s ass. “Should have invited your old man to join us,” says the man. Matthew does not answer. His body is there but his mind is elsewhere, in a place that is lost and far away. There is an expression that is appropriate to use here: the lights are on but nobody’s home. The man has stolen Matthew’s innocence and his spirit, and it is something that is gone forever. “You’ll learn to love this soon enough, faggot.” The man holds Matthew ’s body close to him now as he begins to pump faster and harder. There is no longer any reason to cover Matthew’s mouth as he has lost the urge to resist a long time ago, now just a body for another’s enjoyment. The release comes quickly. The man slaps Matthew’s ass, calls him a ‘good boy,’ buckles up, leaves. Matthew stands there for a moment, cum and shit dripping down his thigh. He cleans himself up with toilet paper, pulls up his pants, leaves. “That took you a while,” his father says. “Is everything alright?” “Must be something I ate,” Matthew lies. “I’m going to grab some shut eye for a while.” “I’ll wake you up when we get there,” says his father. Matthew pulls down the chair to his father’s Holden Civic, closes his eyes, and falls asleep. Somewhere deep inside him, the incurable strain of HIV begins their work in transforming him.- 15 replies
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Looking for gay fiction and erotica sites involving pnp, kink, and first-times, not necessarily in that order. Any one know of any? Tumblr?
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Andy McGreggor Seeds an Eighteen-Year Old Hitchhiker. Ted shivered miserably by the side of the motorway. Two days in this fucking county and so far all he'd seen was rain and more rain. His feet were soaked. A car beeped him and sped past. Asshole. Ted was cute. He was just over six foot tall, just eighteen, with blond hair, which he wore short, and a firm boyish body. He had a long, teenage face with a long nose and deep blue eyes. Normally he had the sweetest, most dazzling smile. But not today. Today he looked seriously fucked off. A car was stopping, a nice one. Expensive. Ted opened the door to see an attractive middle-aged man with dark, soft eyes and a rugby player's body. "Get in son," said the man, grinning. "You're soaked." Ted gratefully loaded his wet rucksack onto the backseat of the expensive car and then buckled up. They pulled out onto the motorway. "You know you're not supposed to hitchhike on the hard shoulder," said the man. He concentrated on overtaking a slow moving coach. "You going far?" he asked. "I'm trying to get to the Highlands," said Ted. "That's where I live," replied the man. "I'm Andy, by the way," he added. "Ted," said the young man. "You Scottish?" McGreggor nodded. "You?" "Canadian," replied Ted. "You've a bit of a journey ahead of you," said Andy. "A good six hours or so. I'd take you there but I am planning to spend the night at a motel. I've been driving too long and it's getting late." The man glanced at Ted in the mirror. "Pity," he added. He grinned. "Ah, that's too bad I guess," replied Ted. "How far are you going now?" "Well I had planned on stopping after the Manchester ring road. I could drop you at the service station there." Andy McGreggor zoomed into the fast lane, pushing eighty miles an hour. "I guess," replied Ted, disappointed. "Unless you wanted to..." Andy paused. He shook his head. "No, forget it." "No, what?" asked Ted. "Well I was going to say, you could spend the night at the motel too, and then I could drive you up tomorrow. Or would that be weird?" Andy glanced at his wet passenger. "That would be swell, to be honest," replied Ted. A night in a motel would be great. So far all he'd had were two crap nights in a tent. "It's on me," said Andy. "That sure is kind of you," replied Ted. Ted and Andy McGreggor sat in the harshly lit dining room of the Travel Express Motel. Ted ravenously ate his plate of fish and chips and McGreggor finished the tender chicken breast in mushroom sauce. It wasn't bad for service station food. "You look starving," said Andy. The lad was cute. His long boyish face looked drawn, tired. "Starving and wet and tired and cold," corrected Ted. "Would you like a dessert?" asked McGreggor. "I'll treat you, I know you students are always broke." "Is that OK? You sure?" asked Ted. McGreggor nodded and smiled. "I'll have the sticky toffee pudding and custard in that case," said Ted. He liked this Scottish guy. He had a nice face. Ted liked guys in their forties. They were kinder sometimes. And this man was handsome too. And strong looking. McGreggor turned on the lights of the functional room. It had a double bed, a table, a clean, modern bathroom with shower and a view of the M1 motorway. To Ted it was luxury. "I'm going to get out of these clothes and get into a hot shower," announced Ted. McGreggor unpacked his night things as Ted turned on the hot, steaming water. It was bliss! After two days of rain-filled misery he was in heaven, letting the water scald him. Soon McGreggor heard Ted singing. He went to the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. He glanced at the pile of clothes. He picked up the lad's red briefs. McGreggor sniffed them, deeply. God, that was good, he thought. Pissy, sweaty and sweet. Heaven. "That you Andy?" called Ted, his eyes closed, covered in shampoo. "Aye son," replied McGreggor. He inhaled his fill of boy panties again. The water had been turned off. Ted was looking at McGreggor. "What are you doing?" asked Ted. "I'm sniffing you boy-panties son," replied McGreggor. "Oh," said Ted. "Erm, why?" "Because they smell nice," said McGreggor. He sniffed them again and handed them to Ted, who was wrapped in a towel. The lad had a cracking body, noticed McGreggor. Boyish, athletic, hairless. Nice wee pair of boy-tits. He was pink from the steam. Ted looked at the pair of damp briefs. "Go on, have a wee sniff," coaxed McGreggor. Ted's cock was tenting his towel. He looked big, thought McGreggor, his mouth moist. Ted sniffed. "Good laddie," said McGreggor. He reached for the towel, gently pulling it off. Ted's cock sprang up, firm, spongy. He had a lovely cock, a good seven inches, guessed McGreggor. And uncut. A vein ran the length of the shaft. The lad had shaved off his pubic hair. McGreggor softly stroked Ted's cock and the boy gasped. "You like that son?" asked McGreggor. Ted nodded. "You get nice and dry. I'll pour us a drink," said McGreggor. When Ted came into the room McGreggor was naked. Ted's eyes focused on the man's enormous cock. He gulped. It was the biggest dick he'd ever seen. It was obscene. It was ten inches long, and fat. The head was shaped like a mushroom, dripping threads of sex-mucus. The man was swigging beer from a can. "Suck me, laddie," goaded McGreggor. Ted got to his knees. The lad smelt of shower gel. Ted gulped. "Come on laddie, give it a wee kiss." Ted shyly kissed the tip of the man's moist cock and was rewarded with a cappuccino moustache of salty precum. He inhaled the man's odour; piss, stale sweat, musk. Oh God, it was good, thought the shy teenager. He greedily put the tip of McGreggor's cock in his mouth, the tastes exploding on his taste buds. McGreggor purred like a tomcat. The boy sucked well. McGreggor was impatient. He wanted to see Ted's sweet ass. "Bend over, son," he whispered. "Let Daddy see your wee pussy." McGreggor knelt on the bed, worshiping at the lad's twin buttocks. They were plump, white, fleshy, hairless. McGreggor liked his boys to have plump arses; he liked a bit of wobble. Reverently he peeled the boy's buttocks apart, like a High Priest unveiling the Holy of Holies. There is was! Ted's sweet, virginal boy-cunt, a tiny knot of grey-pink muscle. He sniffed it. Oh son, thought McGreggor, is your pussy ever so good. It smelt of the seaside, of soap, of musk. He probed the velvet muscle with his tongue, delighting in the give of the sphincter. Ted was groaning into the pillow, wiggling his boy-pussy provocatively. It felt good, warm, wet. Ted wanted the man's cock. McGreggor inserted his fingertip and Ted growled. "Yeah," the teenage boy purred. McGreggor probed further. It was good, hot, moist, sticky; a wee bit of shit but never mind. The boy-turd was firm not soft. It didn't matter. He tasted his finger. Lovely; smoky, musky, illicit. He wanted to be inside. McGreggor raised himself up. He rubbed his moist cock head on the lad's pinky-grey slit. Ted wriggled his pussy. "You want me to fuck you sonny?" whispered McGreggor. "You got a condom?" replied Ted. "I don't use them son," answered McGreggor. He rubbed his cock head a little harder. Ted's anus yielded a little. "I never fuck without them," said Ted into the pillow. Shit. He wanted the man's cock real bad. He'd never had one that big. Surely it would be OK, just this once. "Go on laddie," coaxed McGreggor. "It'll be OK. You'll love it." McGreggor pushed the head of his cock further. Oh fuck, it was opening. It was so good. Just let me in, laddie. Just let me in. Ted was sweating. But he didn't say anything further. He just leant forward with his wee pussy spread open. It was too much. McGreggor sank the entire head of his cock into the teenager's velvet colon. Ted howled and buried his head in the pillow. "It hurts," he cried, his voice muffled. "Be a brave boy for Daddy," replied McGreggor. The lad's tissue-thin colon was gripping his horse-cock, sucking it like a toothless puppy. McGreggor pushed in a few more inches and Ted bit into the pillow, drenched in sweet smelling sweat. The room filled with the aroma of man sex. "Go on son, go on now." "I don't know," hissed Ted through gritted teeth. It was stinging real bad, the barely human cock ripping him open. The man was too big. This was a mistake. "Aye, son," coaxed McGreggor. "Just a wee bit more." The pain was like an energy field. It was white, burning. Ted writhed. He sank off his knees onto the bedcover, McGreggor lying on top of him, trapping him, hugging him. McGreggor shoved his huge cock deep, deep into the teenage boy, prodding his spongy boy-clit, poking at the paper-thin lining of his guts. Drool dripped from Ted's mouth. But he was relaxing. The pain was easing, turning to heat. He gasped. He laughed. "Oh fuck man!" cried Ted. "Oh fuck that's good." McGreggor was in a trance. The boy's velvet pussy was gripping his cock like a vice, coating it in boy mucus. McGreggor was close. "You gonna let me seed you, son?" whispered McGreggor. "You gonna let Daddy do that?" "I don't know," whispered the boy. "Aye, go on," urged McGreggor. The middle-aged man was panting, sweating, trembling. He tensed, then it was too late. Hot, potent seed began to erupt from his massive cock like lava. Ted gasped as the warm cum coated his bruised anus. "Oh fuck," cried Ted. "Oh that's good man!" McGreggor withdrew with a plop, his half-heart cock coated in pink mucus. "Thanks son," he said gently, kissing Ted's sweet mouth. "Now, how about you use that nice wee mouth to get Daddy's cock clean for him?" Ted grinned. The man was a freakin' perv. He loved it. The next day, after a full English breakfast, Ted and McGreggor rejoined the motorway. "You know son, you'd be very welcome to come and stay at my castle for a few days if you want to explore the Highlands. And I have some friends who'd love to meet you, said McGreggor. "I'd like that," smiled Ted. Andy McGreggor is the writer of the increasingly popular Kindle books written under his name, all featuring raw fucking, boy-smells and often piss and fisting. I hope you enjoyed this story and I invite you look me up on Amazon. Andy McGreggor is the name.
