DEEP INSIDE DALTON: Converting the Jock-Next-Door into a Chempig

[sevren]

I visit this site dily to see if this story hass extended any more lol

[pozpopperpig]

Can't wait for more!

[expdbijock35]

So fucking anxious to read more....it turns me on...

[ftlbottompig]

When will fantasy or fiction like this catch up with me? MAKES ME WANNA TWEAK LOTS!

[extralong10]

This store is my favorite and the anticipation of what's to CUM make my FAT BBC look bigger than my 10 x 6. Can't wait to hear what happens next. Thanks for writing.

[JoseDelRey]

NICE! Great writing!

[Hotload84]

Really well written, Rawrawraw76. Keep up the good work!

[expdbijock35]

Please give us more...more...more

[lonewolfnyc]

So good... hope to see some full-length books out at some point!

[wonderboy]

This is so hot and well-written. It's so hard to capture the intensity of sex on chem in writings but the writer does that so well. He entertains my intellect with a good writing skill and feeds my sexual hunger with such an intensive plot. He basically mind-fucks me everytime I read this.

[pissisdelicious]

This story's so fuckin' hot! Please write more!

[rawrawraw76]

[i snapped this photo during last night's slam-and-breed session with a hung, twisted perv. I'm still high as fuck...]

CHAPTER 4 - TRISTAN

Tristan has been our dealer for the last two years. Back when we met him, we were looking for a more dependable connection. A mutual friend described him as “an entrepreneurial sadist,” so we decided to give the guy a try.

I’ll never forget walking into his apartment for the first time.

Tristan, dressed only in a ballcap and wife-beater, sat in a huge chair—a throne, almost—at the far end of the room. He was dirty-blond and scruffy and tattooed, with a hard look on his handsome face. Between his muscular thighs, he had an uncut cock fat enough to send an inexperienced bottom to the emergency room. It glistened and dripped like he'd just pulled it from a wet hole.

Between us and Tristan, in the middle of the room, a handsome kid in a jockstrap—I’m guessing he was 19, maybe 20—was flat on his stomach, a pillow crammed underneath his crotch to elevate his little musclebutt. He was struggling against three guys who’d pinned him to the floor while a fourth dude thrust his raw dick deep into the kid’s hole. They’d muzzled him, too; all we could hear were wordless croaks of protest. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks streaked with tears.

Then came a thrust so hard we heard something snap, or burst open, or give way. The bottom shook his head violently. Through his muzzle, we could hear him break down into full-bodied sobs—but the top didn’t let up, not for a second. He just kept on plowing that butt, plunging his dick in deep.

Meanwhile, in the crotch of my jeans, as my dick hardened up until it strained the fabric down to about mid-thigh, a pool of viral precum began bleeding through the denim, quickly forming a four-inch-round wet spot.

“Don’t worry—the kid will warm up to it eventually,” Tristan said to me and Brian, motioning for us to join him on the other side of the room. “We haven’t given him any T yet, so he hasn't discovered that he’s a filthy fuckin’ whore.” Then he turned to the group of guys fucking the boy. “Hey, Carlos—give our brand-new little barebacker a booty bump, will ya? I’m tired of all this crying bullshit.”

Carlos, a hairy Latino guy with an uncut cock, let out a big laugh. “Drew is already one step ahead of you, boss. He just dipped the head of his cock into the baggie.”

“Fuck yeah,” added another guy—apparently Drew, a dark-haired, smooth-chested dude in his mid-20s. He wrapped his hand around the base of his downward-curving cock, proudly showing off the white crystals studded all over his mushroom head. “Let me in there,” he said to Carlos. “I wanna get this faggot fucked up.”

Carlos moved aside. Drew placed his Tina-covered cock against the kid’s hole, spread that virgin butt wide open with a powerful pair of hands, and made his delivery with a single brute shove. The kid screamed through the muzzle as shards of crystal tore across the thin tissues of his hole. Unfazed, Drew just kept working those chems deeper, pounding away until the kid’s screams faded into a stunned silence.

“I guess I should’ve introduced you,” Tristan said as he checked the weight on our 8-ball. “The boy with the big dick in his hole? That’s my nephew Sebastian. Devout Jesus freak and a total fucking closet case. Last week I caught him jacking his dick—nice dick, actually—while flipping through some of the old gay porn magazines I’d stashed in my parents’ basement in the ‘90s. When I confronted him about it, he gave me some lame excuse, and I pretended to believe him. Then, just to assure him that everything was cool, I suggested he drop by my place tonight to play board games. Seriously, dude: he thought I wanted to play board games! Anyway, as soon as he walked in the door, these four guys grabbed him from behind, stripped off his clothes, pinned him to the ground, and crushed his sweet little cherry. It’s about time somebody raped some sense into him, you know?”

Just then, a violent coughing fit erupted from the center of the room. I glanced back to see Sebastian on his back, muzzle off, legs spread, one arm raised high in the air, eyes wild with confusion. One of the tops was placing a cap on a syringe, grinning at his handiwork as that doomed little cunt rode the dark wave of his first slam.

“So much for following Jesus,” Tristan said to us with a dark laugh. “You guys like what you see?”

We didn't answer right away. We were too busy watching as a top with a red-and-black biohazard tat pressed his dick against Sebastian's hole and plowed right in. The kid’s whole body shivered and twitched. He whimpered a few times. And then he began making a long, low moaning sound, pulling his legs back for a better view of the poz cock fucking him in half.

Brian nodded. “Oh, yeah. Slammed up and knocked up, just like a good boy should be.”

“OK, so here’s something that might interest you,” Tristan replied. “Half of my business is selling the best shit in town. The other half is pimping out boys. I like to get ‘em hooked on slamming T, you know? But this is important: I never, ever teach ‘em how to slam. If they want that syringe in their arms, they have to come to me. And I treat ‘em well, too: I give ‘em my best shit, and I never miss. My only hard-and-fast rule is that they can’t get slammed by anybody else without my permission. If they break my rule, they’re out on the fuckin’ street.” He paused for a moment to give his cock a twitch. “Anyway, here’s what I’m trying to say: I’d love for you guys to recruit some hot little fags for me to slam up and whore out.”

“Um, wow,” said Brian, laughing. “I think we might be into that.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian gasped. I glanced back to see him getting plowed by the same guy, the kid's fingers carefully tracing the outline of the dude's biohazard tat. “You're welcome, boy," the top replied, smiling a cocky smile as he plunged in deep. "This cunt of yours was built for taking my cum."

“Listen, pig: focus,” Tristan said with a crooked grin. I turned back to face him. “Here's what I'm thinking. Anytime you guys find a boy who, in your expert opinion, has a sweet tight cunt that would bring some serious business my way, go ahead and send him to me. In return, I’ll give you some free product—maybe even a shitload of free product, if the boy’s got some serious moneymaking potential.”

Brian and I glanced at each other, both of us grinning like it was our first time at the bathhouse. There was no need for further discussion. It was obvious that we'd just stumbled into the perfect gig.

And the best part of the whole thing? We haven’t paid for an 8-ball since.

* * *

Brian and I led Jace to the apartment, telling him to knock on the door. He knocked. Tristan answered, wearing only a ballcap. His lean torso tapered into a set of defined abs, the shape of his body acting like a funnel as it drew our eyes toward the heaviness of his cock.

“Hey there,” he said to Jace, locking eyes with our brand-new chemwhore. “You’re high as fuck, aren’t you?”

“I guess so,” Jace stammered.

“Good boy. That’s exactly what I like to see.” Then Tristan flexed his cock, making it swing upward and slap against his stomach—a favorite trick. He smirked as Jace licked his lips. “You like my cock, bro?”

“Fuck yeah, dude.”

Tristan wrapped his hand around his dick, flexing it again to send a rivulet of precum flowing down the length of the shaft. “I want to bury this big raw cock in your hungry little tweakhole, faggot. Got it?”

Jace didn't answer at first. He was open-mouthed and glassy-eyed, his belt unbuckled, his hand shoved down the back of his jeans. Through the fabric, I could see that he was fingerfucking his partied-up hole. He nodded.

“I need a louder answer than that, pig.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy. You hungry for some more smoke?”

“Fuck yes, sir.”

“Then follow me, boy. Follow me back to my chair.” They walked across the room. Tristan sat down in his chair, then motioned for Jace to stop in his tracks. “Just stay there for the moment. This is my chair, bro. You’ll sit down when I give you permission to sit down. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tristan picked up the pipe. “I forget: did you say you wanted some smoke?”

“Fuck yes, sir!”

“Well, here’s the deal. I’m not feeding you any until you climb up on this chair and take a seat all the way down my dick. All the fucking way down. I want to feel your taint pressed against my fuckin’ stomach. Got it, fag?”

“Fuckin’ A, sir!”

“Good boy.”

Jace didn't give himself a chance to think about it. He immediately clambered onto the chair, straddled Tristan, and placed the head of that dick against his butt. He didn’t tease it or jack it. Instead, he immediately got to work, sitting down on the full length of Tristan’s raw cock with a single piercing grunt.

Tristan looked over at us, his face lit up in a twisted grin. “Fuck, you guys. This ass is worth a month’s supply of shit, easy.”

Meanwhile, Jace was staring longingly at the pipe in Tristan's hand. “Sir," he said—unable to disguise his hunger for more chems—"Can I please smoke now?”

“Of course, pig,” Tristan replied. He placed the pipe against Jace’s lips, feeding that faggot a long series of big hits. Brian and I watched the impressive cloud formations, then began gathering our things to head back home

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan grab a rubber strap and tie it snugly around Jace's bicep.

"This looks like it's gonna hurt," Jace said.

“It's not gonna hurt, buddy boy. You just stay still. You’re gonna love this. I promise. It’s a little something I like to call it the Point-Five Surprise. A nice big slam for my hot little bitchboy.”

“OK, dude," Jace replied. "I fuckin' love that smoke. I'll do anything to get more."

“I know you will, pig. And in about 10 seconds, you'll do anything...and then some.”

Brian and I closed the door behind us. As we walked down the hall, we heard a long series of loud, breathless coughs, one after another.

By the time we reached the elevator, the coughs had been replaced by the rhythmic smack of skin against skin as Tristan plowed Jace’s freshly slammed-up hole.

* * *

When Brian and I arrived back home, we heard a quiet, rhythmic splashing from the backyard of Dalton’s house. Was Neighbor Boy swimming laps? We figured it was worth checking out, so we quietly made our way to the backyard, sneaking over to our secret vantage point near the fence.

We weren’t disappointed.

Dalton was alone in the pool, swimming freestyle laps in a Speedo. The curve of his ass bobbed along the surface of the water, and each of his calves splashed to the surface in quick succession as he kicked his way back and forth in front of us. Finally, he stopped to catch his breath before pulling himself out of the pool, the water cascading down his back and splashing against the muscled perfection of his ass.

Then, with a single casual flick of his thumbs, he dropped his Speedo to the ground, stepped out of it, leaned over to grab a towel, and wrapped himself up before heading back inside.

His Speedo was still on the pavement. And in the next moment—as Brian slid his raw dick into my hole, both of us dripping precum like a couple of teenagers—I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that brief glimpse of Dalton’s amazing butt.

“His parents leave in two days,” Brian whispered in my ear. “Do you know what that means?"

"What's that, babe?"

"In two days, that sweet ass is gonna be ours.”

Edited June 17, 2014 by rawrawraw76

[daddybear]

beautiful continuation, loving it!

[pozcubsf]

Holy fuck this is an amazing story. Have jacked out many load and expect many more. Thank you

[rawrawraw76]

Next up: Dalton fucks his girlfriend by the pool while Brian and Tom watch from behind the fence -- their eyes glued to his jockbutt as he pounds her, his asscheeks spread wide as he crouches for leverage, inadvertently showing off his smooth pink virgin hole. And as it turns out, the only way Dalton can cum is when his girlfriend...well, you'll just have to wait for that one.