by Ryan Field
Later that day, as Dan made him move all the heavy produce stands from one side of the market to the other, Chance fell back against a tall metal shelf stacked with pretzels and potato chips. He didn't hurt himself, because it wasn't an accident. He'd been planning all day for a fall under Dan's watchful eye, so that when he removed his clothes later that night he'd have a good excuse for all the bruises on his ass and legs.
And it worked. When he took off his clothes and walked past Dan that night, the old man clutched the arms of his chair and leaned forward. “That was some fall this afternoon, you.” He rubbed his chin and ran his fingertips over Chance's ass. “Some good bruises back there, but it's good you didn't really hurt yourself. Then you would have cost me money."
"I'm fine,” Chance said. “They look worse than they are.” He shrugged and sat down on the sofa to watch TV.
He was dying to watch the Food Network to see if they would mention anything about the recipe competition, but Dan wanted to watch a show on the Discovery Channel about monkeys. He loved to sit in his chair, scratch his balls, and watch monkeys; he thought they were funny. It was followed by a show about dwarfism, and Dan's eyes were glued to the screen. At eleven o'clock he scratched his balls, lifted his leg and farted, and slowly stood to hobble back to his bedroom. He said he had a headache. “I'm going to take a sleeping pill tonight."
Chance remained on the sofa for another half-hour, but he couldn't find a comfortable spot. He moved from one side of the old leather sofa to the other and kept sighing out loud. Glancing at the candlestick on the coffee table, he thought of Brody. When a chef on the Food Network began to prepare a boiled dinner of kielbasa and sauerkraut, his penis started to grow. The old man was snoring so loudly he could barely hear the TV chef speak. All he saw were the guy's great hands holding a mammoth kielbasa, and Chance's hole ached for more dick. Finally, he stood up and crossed back to his bedroom to get his car keys and a clean white apron.
It was dark out. The sky had been overcast all day. The car was facing in a downhill position. He slowly inched his way out of the gravel driveway in neutral. He sat behind the wheel in his bare feet, wearing nothing but a white chef's apron. When he was far enough away from the market, he started the car and clicked the light switch. He squeezed the steering wheel tightly and took a deep breath. Brody might get mad at him for showing up unannounced and wearing practically nothing, but he needed to take that chance. He needed Brody to fill him up again.
When he pulled up to the big old house, the front light over the door was on and Brody was sitting on the veranda in a rocking chair. When Chance opened the door and stepped out of the car, Brody put his hands on his hips and walked down the front steps. He was wearing the same sweatpants that Chance had washed. His feet were bare and he wasn't wearing a shirt. He took one look at Chance in the apron, and rubbed his chin. “I was expecting you tonight,” he said.
Chance smiled. “You were not. You were just sitting there holding your dick because you couldn't sleep.” He was younger than Brody, and by no means as worldly, but he didn't want to come off looking like an obvious sex-starved slut. Sure, that's what he was, but he didn't want to be too obvious about it.
"That's not true,” Brody said. “I knew you'd be back tonight. I knew you'd want more dick and I've been sitting here waiting. I expected you at least two hours ago.” He laughed and tugged on his pork sword a few times. “You like it. I can see it all over your face. You want more of what you had last night."
Chance didn't want to argue the point; he knew he'd lose. Brody sounded so smug and sure of himself. Was he that transparent? Did Brody think he was some sort of a sex maniac now? He was beginning to wish he'd just stayed home and jerked off with a long pepperoni up his ass. But instead, he put his hands on his hips and said, “I just couldn't sleep is all."
Brody said, “C'mon, baby. Let's walk down to the boat docks and go for a midnight ride.” He put his arm around Chance's waist. “I'm glad you came. I really wasn't sure if you would, but I'm glad you did."
They walked down several steep flights of stone stairs in the darkness. The back of the white apron was wide open and Brody's palm rested on Chance's naked ass the entire time. When they reached the dock, though it was dark, Chance took one look at the boat and his mouth fell open. “This is your boat? That's a seventeen-foot, 1954 Chris Craft Rocket.” He wasn't exactly an expert on boats, but growing up in the Lakeland area had caused him to notice which boats were considered the best. He walked over to the side of the boat and ran his hand across the smooth dark wood and whistled. The long bench seats, both front and back, were covered with rich black leather and the steering wheel was pure white. In gold italic letters, it read “Hearts O'Palm" near the tail end on the side facing the dock.
"It was my father's. He called her Hearts O'Palm,” Brody said, “He loved her. I have to give my mother credit for one thing: She's maintained her all these years in perfect condition."
He untied the boat from the docks and jumped inside. The steering wheel was on the right, and he slid behind it while Chance held the boat in place. When he turned the key in the ignition and the engine turned over, there was a soft, even gurgle that soon settled into a hollow, almost throaty, roar. Chance smiled and ran his palm over the wood again. It sounded like the boat was actually purring.
"Give her a quick shove and then jump in,” Brody said.
When Chance was in the front seat, Brody slowly pulled the throttle into reverse and they backed out. Then he turned on the lights, slipped her into forward and headed out toward main lake at a slow, creeping pace. The official rule was you couldn't go faster than five miles per hour after dark, but they were only going out far enough so Brody could turn off the engine, drop anchor, and bend Chance over the side of the boat. With one hand on the steering wheel, Brody lifted his arm and rested it across the top of the seat. He tugged on Chance's ear a few times and said, “Get next to me and lean in."
But Chance had a better idea. He went down across the seat and pressed his face between Brody's legs. His sweatpants still smelled like detergent. Chance chewed on the fabric covering Brody's soft penis. Brody spread his legs a little wider and leaned back while he continued to steer. They passed by another boat cruising just as slowly as they were and Brody gave a thumbs-up to the other driver. When they were out of sight, Brody clutched the steering wheel with one hand and pulled his sweatpants down to his knees with the other. Chance wet his lips, opened his mouth and swallowed the soft penis. He gently rolled it around his tongue a few times while Brody closed his eyes and moaned. When he pressed his tongue against the bottom and started to suck, it began to grow inside his mouth. He took deep breaths through his nose, and in no time at it was a full erection hitting the back of his throat. His cheeks indented and his head went up and down and in counter-clockwise circles. Brody kicked off his sweatpants and spread his legs as wide as he could beneath the steering wheel.
They cruised like this for about twenty minutes, until Brody turned off the motor and the boat started to drift. Chance lifted his head and wiped his swollen lips. “Why did we stop?” He looked around and saw a few other boats not far away. The boat next to them was so close that he could actually reach out and touch the bow with an oar. There must have been at least five boats spread out around them; but none were moving. He reached down, grabbed Brody's balls and started to massage. He whispered, “It's dark, but this doesn't look very private."
Brody smiled. “I have to get up and drop anchor. This is a small cove where people come to play around. No one will care what we're doing here, because they are all doing the same thing.” He laughed and stood up on the seat. He was naked and you could see his erection bouncing in the shadows. Then he jumped into the back seat and reached into a small compartment for the anchor. He tossed it overboard and tied the rope to the side of the boat. There was moaning and squeals coming from the boat directly next to them on the right. Then a good-looking guy in the back seat sat up for a mom
ent and waved when he saw Chance staring. Chance gulped and waved back. When he looked at the boat to the right of them, a white speed boat with black stripes, he saw three good-looking young guys talking to each other, drinking beer and laughing. He couldn't make out what they were actually saying, but he could hear their deep, drunken voices. In all the years he'd lived in the Lakeland area, no one had ever mentioned this place to him before. He wondered if Sarah had ever been there.
"Come back here,” Brody said. He was sitting in the middle of the back seat. His legs were spread and his dick was resting against his stomach.
He hesitated. “What about the guys on that boat over there? They can see everything we are doing.” He slumped down in the front seat and started to bite his fist.
"They're cool,” Brody said. “They probably just want to get a cheap thrill is all. Besides, they can't see that much from over there."
Chance's heart began to race. It felt like an itch in his body that started at the opening of his anus and went all the way up to his lungs, an itch that needed to be scratched very soon. He jumped over the front seat and sat on Brody's lap. Brody grabbed him by the waist and pressed Chance's hand on his shoulder for support. Then Chance spit into his palm of his other hand, wrapped it around Brody's dick, and pressed the head to his pink opening. He spread his legs and arched his back. When the head was inside, he pressed his other hand on Brody's strong shoulder and slowly sat back until the entire erection was buried in his body. It hurt for a split second, but it was good pain. Then he closed his eyes and kissed Brody on the mouth. The deeper his tongue went, the tighter he squeezed his ass against Brody's dick. Brody held his waist tightly and pressed down hard.
"Are you going to fuck me again?” Chance asked, playfully.
"Do you want me to? Do you want dick tonight? Do you want me to spread those legs as wide as they will go?” Brody asked, then spanked him on the ass a few times.
"Yes, fuck me,” Chance whispered, making slow, circular motions with his ass.
Chance didn't notice that the guys in the boat next to them had stopped talking. He tossed his head back, closed his eyes and his arched back as Brody held his waist. But Brody didn't buck his hips; he let Chance do all that work this time. And Chance rode it so hard and so fast the boat started to rock. Then the back end crept closer to the boat with the young guys drinking beer. Oone of the guys looked at Brody and called, “Hey buddy, can we get some of that ass too? I've never seen an ass move like that one. There's three horny top guys over here with nothing to fuck.” His voice was deep and throaty and his words were slurred: He was obviously very drunk.
Brody said, “Sorry, guys, it's all mine.” Then he laughed and slapped Chance on the ass a few times for them.
Chance stopped moving; he sat back and Brody's dick went all the way up. He looked over and saw the other guys watching him. A big football player type kneeled on the front seat and tugged at his erection, a thin guy with a goatee in the back seat held his own, and another who looked like Tom Cruise was sitting on the edge of the boat, with his legs dangling over the side, playing with his balls. “What the fuck is this?” Chance asked Brody.
"Those guys want to take turns tagging your ass,” he said. “They only want to get off. Don't freak out, baby. It's a compliment. You wanna do it?"
Chance wasn't sure how he felt about all this. “You'd be okay with that? With three guys fucking me?"
The guy who looked like Tom Cruise shouted, “C'mon, man. We don't wanna marry him. We just want to take turns nailing him.” Then he looked at the other two and they all shouted, “Yes,” in very deep voices, at the same time.
"Actually, I think it's kind of hot,” Brody said. “This kind of thing doesn't happen often and what they do to you has nothing to do with how we feel about each other. So if you really want to do this, it's fine with me.” He slapped Chance on the ass. “And think about it, how often do you actually get four top guys begging for your ass?"
Chance saw that Brody's eyes were wide and he was breathing faster. Just talking about it seemed to make his dick even harder inside his ass. “I'm game,” Chance said finally. “As long as these guys all wear condoms."
Brody smiled, and then he asked the Tom Cruise guy, “You dudes have condoms?"
The guy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handful of rubbers. He waved them and said, “I'll toss you a rope and we can tie the boats together."
A moment later, the boats were tied together and two guys were pulling Chance into the other boat. Brody remained in his own boat, holding his rock-solid erection, watching Chance lean over the back seat and spread his legs. The guy who looked like Tom Cruise pulled off his jeans, his shoes and his socks, and he held his very large, erect penis in his left hand and stared at Chance's smooth, naked body. He bit his bottom lip and started jerking while the guy with the goatee pulled down his zipper and covered his dick with a condom. When Chance spread his legs and arched his back, the guy shoved his dick all the way in with one hard thrust. Chance closed his eyes and opened his mouth when the guy started fucking. He wasn't as big as Brody, but Chance started backing into it anyway. The boat began to rock and the other two guys kneeled on the sidelines and jerked their dicks while Chance got fucked. The one who looked like Tom Cruise kept whispering, “Fucking hot ass ... fuck that hot ass."
The drunken guy with the goatee came fast: He banged into Chance's ass really hard at the end, filled the condom, and grunted a few times. When he pulled out, the football player quickly slipped his dick in and started fucking. He didn't bother to take off his clothes either, just unzipped his pants and put on a condom. But his penis was extra-thick and he fucked with such strength Chance had to hold on to the legs of the guy who looked like Tom Cruise so he wouldn't fall overboard. And like the one with the goatee, this guy came fast. When he pulled out, the Tom Cruise guy didn't waste a minute. He squeezed Chance's ass with his large hands and sighed, and then went in as deep as he could. His dick was longer than the others, and when it hit the bottom, Chance's mouth fell open and his head jerked to the side. This guy was a good fuck—he banged and hammered fast, but with a rhythm so constant, Chance's head bounced in metered time with the fucking. A moment before he came, he slapped Chance's ass and whispered, “I'm coming,” over and over. Then he pressed his pelvis against Chance's body and filled the condom.
When he pulled out, Brody jumped up and shoved his cock inside, as if he'd come to claim his prize. Though getting tagged by the other guys had been hot, Brody's large dick fit the best and was able to find those hidden parts of Chance's ass that brought him to climax without touching himself. Brody fucked with his waltz beat as the other guys stared in amazement at how well Chance could take such a strong pounding, especially after he'd just been fucked by three other big dicks.
"Who has the best dick in the world?” Brody asked, slapping his ass.
"You do,” Chance said. “You have the biggest, best cock in the world. Fuck me, Brody.” He was hammering so hard Chance had to hold the hand of the guy who looked like Tom Cruise. The boat rocked and water splashed on his face.
"I'm gonna breed you now, bitch,” Brody said. “Are you ready for some seed, bitch?"
Chance nodded. He'd been on the verge of orgasm for a while. “Yes ... breed me."
Brody bucked harder and they both exploded at the same time. Chance only had to hold his cock lightly in his palm to come; it was the same inner orgasm Brody had given him in the back seat of the car. While he was still deep inside, Brody leaned over Chance's shoulders and kissed him on the mouth.
They would have lingered there for a while if they'd been alone, but when one of the guys said, “Hey, that was hot. Maybe you two can come back tomorrow night and we can all take turns tagging his ass again,” Brody took charge and decided it was time to leave. He said, “Sorry, guys, this was just a little fun and games tonight. This tight hole belongs to me."
The guys groaned and hooted a few times when Brody started th
e boat and Chance leaned over the side to pull up the anchor. He was still naked and they were watching his round ass, so he spread his legs and arched his back slowly for them. He liked how deep and throaty their voices sounded in the dark night. But more than that, Chance was pleasantly flattered to find that three good-looking guys would actually want to take turns on his ass. This was something that hadn't occurred to him, but it was nice to know.
When they were alone again on the dark water and Chance was leaning into Brody's side, he asked, “Did you really mean that back there, when you told those guys that my ass belonged to you?"
Brody pulled him closer and smiled. “Damn right I did. That ass is mine now. They can only fuck you if I give them permission."
"You liked watching that, didn't you?” Chance asked.
"It was fucking hot, baby. You're a good bottom boy that likes dick. You can take a lot and never complain."
Chance shrugged and took a deep breath, then he reached down and grabbed Brody's soft penis and started to massage his balls. “Well, then, that means these big old things belong to me then."
Brody smiled and spread his legs wider. “Remind me to give you my cell number before you leave tonight. I won't call you, but you can call when you're free again."
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Chapter Seven
On Wednesday morning, while Sarah was explaining to Chance in torturous detail how her new boyfriend Mike loved it when she sat on his face, there was a loud, piercing scream from behind the market. Sarah stopped talking and grabbed the counter. They stared at each other for a moment, then ran out the back door to see what had happened. When they reached the barn, they stopped short when they saw Dan Pratta standing in front of four trapped squirrels, with his body slumped forward and his hands pressed to the side of his head. All the squirrels had fluorescent orange tails, and Dan kept repeating, “I never saw nothing like this in my life."