Matt was one lucky guy. He thought to himself with a goofy grin as he realized what was happening. Matt was lying on his back, and a beautiful 18-year-old swimmer was riding his 14-year-old, 4-inch penis. The college freshman's moans and increasing speed indicated that he was nearing his climax. At the same time, the penetration of his shapely ass was bringing Matt unbearably close to his own. While this was happening, an incredibly cute, just-turned-14 boy named Cal was in pure ecstasy as Matt gave him his first blowjob. Cal was straddling Matt's chest, his 4-inch penis completely inside Matt's mouth, a sight that both stunned and incredibly aroused the eighth-grader. Matt held Cal's hairless testicles and slid his mouth from the tip of the boy's penis to the base, where his nose came to rest in the sparse patch of not-quite-peach-colored down and not-quite-full pubic hair. The 17-year-old named Connor sat on Matt's crotch, facing Cal's back, watching his smooth, firm buttocks relax and contract as Matt worked his teenage cock.

Cal felt Matt's smile around his beautiful uncircumcised penis and looked down at him. He returned a genuine smile and searched for words to express how grateful he was to be there without sounding too gay. Cal had never dreamed of fooling around with other boys until a boy as admired and popular as Matt asked him if he'd like to.

“You’re a cool guy, Matt.” Cal thought those words got the message across pretty well. The irony in Cal’s choice of words made Matt smile even more, considering that just a few weeks ago he was…

But before he could get too lost in thought, Connor cried out in a desperate voice, "Matt, I think I'm going to come. Fuck me harder, bro!" Matt readily obliged. He grabbed Cal's buttocks, pulled Cal closer to his face, and began thrusting into Connor's hole with all his might. This brought all three boys to the brink of climax, where their sexual arousal seemed to linger for a moment, prolonging the pain and pleasure. Until Cal, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt his first orgasm, inexorably caused by someone other than himself, build, he let out a single involuntary cry, much higher than his normal eighth-grade voice. This one uncontrolled sexual noise was too much for either Matt or Connor, and both came in overwhelmingly intense orgasms.

Every time Matt thrust into Connor, he hit the spot that drove him wild. The sight of the muscles in Cal's 14-year-old ass contracting and relaxing was the second blow, and the super-sweet sound Cal made was the final nail in Connor's coffin. Without even touching his 6-inch cock once, he shot string after string of college-boy cum up and down all over Cal, God knows where. Shots two through six slammed into Cal's slightly toned back and ran down his asshole onto Matt's chest. The rest dripped onto Matt's six-pack abs, forming a pool of cum in his belly button. Meanwhile, Connor's contracting anus was pushing Matt over the edge. To say this was one of the most intense orgasms of Matt's life wouldn't be fair, because they all seem to be these days, but this one was definitely on the high end. His body jerked in a slight U-shape, and the whole world seemed to stop. His penis pumped as much watery semen as possible (which was nowhere near the thick spurt Connor had just unleashed) into Connor's waiting ass. He really couldn't control his body movements. But somehow he was alert enough to still want to make Cal feel good, but his body wasn't cooperating. As it turned out, that wasn't necessary. Matt contorted himself into a U-shape and shoved Cal's 10 centimeters as far into Matt's mouth as he could, and then some. That, combined with Matt's mouth clamping Cal's penis like a vise, was too much. The pleasure in his penis intensified, approaching and then exceeding the point Cal was used to reaching when he was alone. It kept growing until he literally thought he was going to explode. And then he did. He felt the most intense pleasure a human being could possibly feel. His penis throbbed so violently he thought it was going to snap. The first three spasms squirted small amounts of watery, thin, clear semen into Matt's waiting mouth. The remaining spasms were equally strong and pleasurable, but accomplished nothing.

The three boys remained drenched in sweat and covered in Connor's thick semen for a moment. The afterglow of their orgasms was almost as pleasurable as the climax itself. Cal was the first to snap back to reality. He looked down at Matt and saw his face after the orgasm. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face relaxed in blissful delight. That, combined with his own cock still in Matt's mouth, was too much. He burst out laughing. Matt pulled himself together, realizing why Cal was laughing, and started laughing too. He pushed him off his chest and sent him sprawling to the ground, where he continued laughing. Gasping for air, he managed to say, "You've got COCK BREATH!" and then continued laughing hysterically.

Connor grinned and shook his head. "You guys are retarded... Pass me the bowl, brother."

Matt reached for the still-glowing pipe on his nightstand and handed it to Connor, who took a long, deep drag. He exhaled, sending a thick cloud of weed smoke into the air as he lifted from Matt's slowly softening glans. Cal stopped laughing as he watched Connor pull away from Matt, his face a picture of serious concentration. And then he burst out laughing again. "And you've got a cum-filled ass!!" Now all three of them started laughing.

A few minutes later, Connor checked the time on his phone. "Damn it, guys, I have classes tonight, I gotta go." Connor frantically began searching for his clothes amidst the chaos of the three boys' outfits scattered on the floor. "Matt, let me know if you need more weed, okay?"

"Sounds good, man," said Matt as Connor grabbed his clothes and jogged out the door to his car.

Cal, still naked and semi-erect, watched him from his seat on the floor. "So he's not letting you pay at all?" Cal asked Matt incredulously.

"No, he just wants to mess around every now and then, and in return I get as much weed as I want."

"That's crazy, man..." Cal smiled and shook his head. He wanted to say something else, but the feelings the weed stirred in him made him sink into his own happy thoughts. He admired Matt so much. All the kids and teachers at school liked him. He was super smart without even trying, and he was great at pretty much every sport. And the coolest thing about him was that the older kids seemed to like him too. They were always inviting him to parties, giggling and booing him. Everyone at school knew he'd dated pretty much every popular girl, and everyone liked him, but they'd also seen him hanging out with older girls back in high school. But the weird thing was, nobody really knew for sure, because he never bragged about anything, and if you asked him, he'd just smile and shrug.

The combination of weed and the incredible afterglow of orgasm made both boys feel really good. Cal had never smoked weed or received oral sex before, so Matt decided to let Cal wind down a little longer with that peaceful smile on his face. While Cal wound down, Matt took in his amazing body. He was still leaning against the wall where he'd landed when Matt had pushed him off his chest, and his penis was still semi-erect, twitching with every heartbeat. He had the body of an athletic boy who'd just hit puberty, but then puberty seemed to change its mind. He had a ten-centimeter-long, uncircumcised penis, which he kept obsessively clean after years of constant (and embarrassing) reminders from his parents. And his testicles were still pretty small and hairless. In fact, the only hair he had on his body was the dark blond hair on his head, a few strands under his armpits, and the small patch of not-quite-peachy fuzz, not-quite-pubic hair, above his penis. Since puberty seemed to have changed Cal's mind, he didn't have the toned physique he deserved for his hard work in soccer. Instead, his stomach was flat but undefined, he had an incredibly cute butt that most girls would kill for, and slightly swollen nipples the size of quarters. His face was, in a word, perfect, Matt thought. Even though he'd just turned 14, he still had the face of a teenager. His dark blond hair was medium-length and combed to the right, he had dark brown eyes, a cute chin, and straight white teeth framed by full lips. Matt smiled as he recalled conversations where Cal had complained about his delayed development. One welcome consequence of this was that while many of Cal's classmates did indeed grow hair in places where Cal had none, their faces were also covered in acne. Cal's skin was smooth and flawless.

"Hey man, the pipe's still a little green. Do you want to smoke a little more and then jump in the shower?" Matt asked Cal.

Cal snapped out of his reverie with a silly grin. "How lucky am I to have a boy like Matt as my friend?" he thought. Cal wasn't exactly popular at school, but he wasn't an outcast either. He was just average. The adults thought he was cute, but the girls always seemed to pass him by. Not in a bad way, but simply because he looked too young compared to the other eighth graders.

Cal studied the head for a moment and said, "Sure. Let's do it." Smoking weed was something Cal had never even dreamed of. Like many kids, he'd grown up surrounded by hypocritical adults who told him how bad it was and that he should stay away from it. But then, with a little persuasion, Matt had convinced Cal to try it. Now Cal cursed everyone who had warned him against something so great and fun.

Matt took the pipe and went into the bathroom, Cal following him. He stopped in front of the large mirror above the sink and said, "Watch yourself in the mirror so you don't fiddle with it as much as last time, man," as he handed Cal the pipe. Cal took the pipe and awkwardly tried to light the lighter and take a puff at the same time.

"It doesn't help that he's totally high," Matt thought, watching his friend's reflection in the mirror as he fumbled with the bowl. As Cal struggled, Matt took in the contrast between the two bodies in front of him. While Cal's body was just entering puberty, Matt's was already well into it. His arms and shoulders were muscular and defined, he had pecs every teenager envied, and on top of that, he had a six-pack. However, he was as thin as Cal, and while his muscles were exceptionally strong, they weren't particularly massive, being only 14, of course (sort of). He had an extremely handsome, youthful face that girls of all ages adored, with medium-length brown hair that exuded a fresh, awakening quality. Matt's circumcised penis looked enormous compared to Cal's, even though it was actually only 1 inch longer. It was wider, though, and the light hair on his testicles and the small patch of pubic hair above his penis made him look considerably more mature. Matt had never made out with an uncircumcised boy before and loved the way Cal's foreskin hung over his smooth testicles. Looking at Cal's package, Matt decided to experiment a little with the boy's foreskin in the shower. At this thought, even though he had just had a mind-blowing orgasm, Matt felt a tingling in his testicles and realized he would be rock hard again in seconds if he didn't calm down.

"You get hard so fast at that age," Matt thought. To avoid getting carried away, Matt reluctantly tore his gaze away from Cal's youthful body and focused on the boy's futile attempts to light the pipe. He had only burned his fingers and spilled a little weed.

Grinning, Matt picked up the grass Cal had spilled and put it back in the pipe. Then he stood behind Cal, took the boy's hands in his, and showed him how to hold it properly. As he reached forward to grab the hand holding the lighter, Cal's bodies touched. Matt's taut stomach pressed against Cal's back, and his already erect penis nestled between Cal's smooth, plump buttocks. Cal enjoyed the accidental embrace and leaned back against his friend. Matt grinned even wider and started reciting the sevens in his head. It didn't work.

As Matt took his hand from Cal's holding the bowl and lit the lighter for him, Cal's penis quickly swelled to its full 5 inches. Matt enjoyed the sensation of his penis rubbing against Cal's ass crack, and judging by Cal's rapidly swelling member, he enjoyed it too. But Matt remained focused on his task. He lowered the lighter into the bowl and said, "Okay, buddy, now take a big drag." Cal did as he was told, exhaled, and handed it to Matt.

With that rush, Cal felt like he was on another planet. His whole body felt sensational, electrified. The feeling of being so close to Matt, seeing his cock rubbing between his buttocks, was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He pressed himself even closer to Matt's body, savoring his touch and warmth. Whether Matt was gay or straight didn't matter to him at that moment. He simply wanted to be close to another human being.

He handed Matt the bowl and went to the shower. Matt finished his weed and blew the rest into the toilet. Matt noticed his totally high friend staring at a floor tile with his mouth half open and did what any good friend would do. He gave him a boob twist. Cal half-squealed, half-laughed, and then shoved Matt into the shower. What followed was a boob-twisting contest the likes of which no one had ever seen. Both guys laughed hysterically, enjoying the filthy feeling of being naked, horny, and totally high. But then Matt turned Cal around and started soaping up his back. When it was nice and slippery, he began rubbing and massaging it.

Cal calmed down and enjoyed his friend's gentle massage. Before, Cal would have dismissed the idea of friends doing something like that as gay. But Matt had pointed out that afternoon that the girls at school just weren't as hot as the boys. There was no getting around it. A guy like Matt went out with all the pretty girls, but most of them did nothing more than make out, even for a cool guy like him. Cal allowed himself to think back to that school day while his friend massaged his back… Earlier that day

About 20 boys from the 7th and 8th grades played a football match during their PE lesson. Since this was their only opportunity to let off steam that school day, they all gave it their best shot. Because of the unusually warm September weather, most of the boys wore thin T-shirts and sports shorts, making the lesson feel more like another day of summer vacation than a mandatory exercise. All the boys played diligently and were having fun, but one boy quickly took control of the game.

Although he had never played competitive football before, Matt had become the heart of his team. With his unusual athletic talent for his age, Matt stole balls, defended, and scored goals seemingly at will. He was so good, in fact, that he decided to take it easy so as not to draw too much attention to himself. Although he had only arrived at the school at the beginning of September, the whole school already admired him for his athletic abilities and his easygoing, friendly nature, but he didn't want to overdo it.

The opposing team lost possession, giving Matt's team the ball. In a gesture he found both flattering and amusing, the boy on his team who had stolen the ball immediately passed it to Matt. Normally, boys of that age find teamwork a little difficult, but everyone liked and respected Matt so much that he got the ball right away, even though he hadn't tried to ask for it.

Matt charged down the field, leaving most of the defenders in his wake. He approached the goal, with only one defender standing in his way. The defender was a younger boy, a seventh grader, stuck in defense because he wasn't as good as the eighth graders. Matt knew he could easily outmaneuver the smaller boy and score an easy goal, but Matt knew the boy. He was a cute boy named Sean, who was teased for being shorter. He had short blond hair and light freckles on his cheeks. His blue eyes seemed almost unnaturally bright in contrast to his fair hair and skin. He wore a charming expression of focused determination as he considered how to stop Matt from scoring. Matt knew his team was already far ahead and there was no danger of losing, so he decided to boost the boy's confidence. He let Sean come forward and slide the ball away. Matt did a slightly theatrical dive, and Sean passed the ball to one of his teammates. Matt got up, jogged over to the smaller boy, and said, "Hey Sean, good play, dude!"

Sean was speechless for a moment, as he wasn't used to being noticed by older, popular kids. Then his face lit up, and with a big smile he said, "Thanks, Matt!" Matt smiled back and jogged back to rejoin the game.

A few minutes later, the PE teacher told the boys to go back to the locker room and change. The summery feeling of freedom and fun abruptly gave way to a feeling of fear and misery as the boys trudged back to the school building and the monotony of class. Matt was just taking a drink from his water bottle when he heard a voice say, "I saw what you did with Sean. That was really cool, man." Matt looked down and saw a boy walking beside him whose name he knew as Cal. Cal had been on Matt's team, but aside from the basic communication on the field, the two hadn't spoken to each other at school.

Matt tried his best not to look surprised. "I don't know what you're talking about, man. That kid should be on the Olympic team, he's a beast," Matt said with a sarcastic smile.

“Yes, all 30 kilos of his,” said Cal, making both boys laugh. “By the way, I’m Cal.”

“Matt,” said Matt as he shook Cal’s hand.

Meanwhile, the boys had reached the changing room and sat down on the bench to take off their shoes.

"You're really on fire today. Why don't you try for the school team? We could really use you," Cal asked, taking off his socks.

Matt laughed: “I’ve never played football. Except for romping around in the garden or in PE class. That’s why.”

Cal shook his head. "That's okay, you're a natural. Come on, man, give it a try. We need a good striker."

"I don't know, man." Matt was about to say no when Cal pulled off his athletic shorts, revealing a pair of plaid boxer shorts that were a size too small. Probably an older pair from last year or so. These boxer shorts perfectly accentuated Matt Cal's wonderfully round, firm buttocks and outlined a small pouch in the front. After staring for a fraction of a second too long, Matt changed his mind. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Great! The tryout starts at 2 p.m. See you down there." As Cal said this, Matt was taking off his shirt. Now it was Cal's turn to stare at Matt's toned arms, shoulders, and six-pack. When Cal couldn't tear his gaze away, Matt realized this was going to be interesting.

Matt's day was fairly uneventful until the penultimate period. It was science class, and no one in the class was paying much attention to the teacher's monotonous lecture about gravity. Matt was just about to doze off when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He held it under the table so he could see it, but the teacher couldn't. It was a text message from an unknown number. The message brought a wide grin to his face. It was a selfie of the girl two rows away. In the picture, the girl, whose name was Nicole, was topless, her left nipple sticking out from under her bra. The caption read: "I think you're cute."

Matt glanced over at Nicole. She too had a wide grin on her face, but she was looking straight ahead, pretending to listen to the teacher. She was a very cute girl. She had long dark hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. Rumor had it at school that she used contraception, which, given her enormous breasts for an eighth grader, was quite believable.

"I think you're pretty cute too," Matt wrote back.

"Aidan, has anyone ever told you that you're crazy?"

I grunted as I pulled myself up the ledge and hoisted myself onto the landing before replying, "Hey, you weren't exactly opposed when I asked if you wanted to come along."

My cousin Kavon quickly followed me. “If I’d known I’d have to climb around on the outside of the palace for this, I would have thought twice.” He took a few deep breaths and looked around. “Do you know how much trouble I’ll get in if we get caught? After all, I’m supposed to take responsibility.” Although he’d never really minded spending time with me, he sometimes felt he had to set a good example for me, being 16 and three years older than both of us.

“We won’t get caught,” I replied. “I’ve done this many times, but you never knew, did you?”

"Well, we've sometimes wondered where you disappear to, so that explains a lot." Kavon turned around. "The view isn't bad."

We were standing on an old rocky outcrop that had originally been part of the defenses when the city was smaller. As the city of Toskel, initially just a small settlement of a few hundred inhabitants around the palace, grew, and better defenses were built in other, more strategically important locations, the window that had been there was bricked up as part of other palace projects. What remained was the small rocky outcrop where we now stood. I had discovered it one day when I was seven and soon found a way to climb up. I had sometimes used it as a place to retreat and think. At some point, for some reason, I decided to show it to Kavon. And so, one day, when we had some time during lunch (we usually ate together, as he worked close enough to the palace that we could meet, eat, and then return to our work within our allotted hour), I persuaded Kavon to come up.

“But still,” said Kavon, “we’d better go back. You need to get back to your apprenticeship with Master Grendan, and I need to get back to the workshop before Master Faltor starts wondering where I am.” Kavon was apprenticed to Master Faltor, one of the city’s carpenters (although Kavon was expected to be a journeyman by the end of the year), while I was apprenticed to Master Grendan, the palace archivist.

“Well,” I said, a little disappointed. When I began my apprenticeship with Master Grendan the day after my twelfth birthday, I knew my childhood (or at least most of it) was over, but that knowledge didn't make it any easier to accept. In many ways, Kavon wasn't the only one of us who was now expected to bear “responsibility” (as quite a few adults kept reminding me). We made it down quickly and headed back towards the palace entrance, where we split up and went about our respective tasks.

“Have you heard anything about the envoy who was here last week?” asked Kavon, referring to an envoy from the nation of Andares, Skronina’s eastern neighbor, who had come to meet King Quillan, the monarch of our kingdom of Skronina.

I shook my head in denial. "I only heard that they come from Andares' king and are here for some kind of meeting with King Quillan. Why, I don't know."

“It’s strange,” Kavon said. “It’s not that we got along badly with Andares, but it’s not that we got along well with them either. As far as I can remember, there were no formal diplomatic relations between Andares and Skronina.”

I nodded. I didn't pretend to understand all the intricacies of diplomacy. We soon reached the palace entrance and said goodbye with a "See you later!" and a wave. I greeted the two guards at the entrance, who waved back. By now, I knew most of the guards, who were stationed there on a rotating basis, well enough that we all recognized each other immediately.

I spotted my best friend, Camryn Hostler, and waved to him. He was an apprentice at one of the local inns and met his mother for lunch every day at the palace (since his mother worked there as a cook in the kitchen, and the inn where he worked was practically a stone's throw away). I regretted that I didn't have time to stop and talk to him, as I would have been late, but I called out, "See you tonight!"

“Correct!” he shouted back with his usual grin.

I went back to the palace archives and retrieved the catalog of a number of botanical books I had started that morning. They had been borrowed the previous week by some government official to solve a problem some farmers in the south were having. I had just finished when Master Grendan came in.

"Ah, Aidan, there you are," said Master Grendan. "We have an audience with the king in an hour."

"The... king?" I said in a squeaky voice after a few moments of shock, as had often been the case in recent months. I had dreamed of meeting the king, but I never thought it would actually happen!

“Yes,” said Master Grendan somewhat impatiently. “You must go home and wash yourself. Put on your best clothes. Go quickly! Come back when you are finished.”

I hurried home, my thoughts racing. I could understand that the king wanted someone like Master Grendan – after all, he was the chief archivist of the palace and a very important person (because not just anyone could hold the position of chief archivist) – but what could King Quillan possibly want with a 13-year-old who had only been training to be an archivist for barely a year?

When I got home, I practically burst through the front door. My mother, Darcie, who was in the kitchen, gave me a questioning look.

"Aidan, what's wrong?" she asked. "You haven't gotten into any trouble, have you?"

"No, Ma!" I called over my shoulder as I walked into my small bedroom. "Master Grendan says we're meeting the King in less than an hour, and I need to get ready."

"The king? Aidan, are you kidding me?"

"Mom!" I cried desperately and began to gather the necessary clothes. "I wouldn't joke about something like that!"

“I don’t mean to be rude or say I don’t believe you,” my mother cried, “but why would King Quillan ask for you?”

"I have no idea," I said. "Master Grendan didn't say."

I gathered my clothes and rushed into the bathroom. I wouldn't have time to heat the water for a bath, but I didn't mind. Summer was drawing to a close, but the weather was warm enough that a cool bath wouldn't be bad. I ran the tub (our house was in an area with indoor toilets, since my father had a good job as a mid-level civil servant), undressed, and climbed in. I grabbed the bar of soap, scrubbed myself vigorously, then submerged my head and rubbed my hair hard.

As I got out of the water, I opened the plug at the bottom of the tub so the water could drain out. I stepped onto the mat, grabbed a towel, and quickly started drying myself. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door opened, but it turned out to be just my ten-year-old brother, Rhys.

“You’re going to meet the king?!” Rhys exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. Rhys wasn’t so bad for a little brother, but sometimes he could be really annoying! “Hey, Rhys, come in or go out. Don’t just stand there and let everyone stare.”

"Oh, excuse me," said Rhys, going into the bathroom and closing the door. "Still, is it true? You will see the king?"

“Yes,” I said, vigorously rubbing my hair with the towel before dropping it, grabbing my underwear, and pulling it on. While I would have felt quite uncomfortable getting dressed in front of most people, for some reason I’d never really minded being naked in front of Rhys (or him naked in front of me, if he had a reason to undress around me), even after a few comments about his jealousy of my pubic hair. “And before you ask: No, I don’t think I could take you with me.”

“Ohhhh,” said Rhys, who wanted to meet the king even more than I did. One of his greatest fantasies was to be a great knight whom the king personally sent out on all sorts of heroic deeds.

"Look, the king probably doesn't even want to see me personally. I'm probably only going so that Master Grendan can ask someone to take notes or something like that."

"But can't I just go along anyway? I'll be completely quiet and stay out of the way. They won't even notice I'm there!"

"I'm sorry, little brother, I don't think that's going to work. Listen, I'll remember how it goes, and I'll tell you tonight when I get back, okay?" I said, pulling on the last of my clothes.

“Okay,” said Rhys, still sounding disappointed.

I slipped on the badge that identified me as an archivist's apprentice (everyone who worked here wore a badge indicating their profession and position within that profession) and combed my somewhat unruly, dark blond hair in front of the mirror (made of highly polished metal, because even my family didn't earn enough money to afford one of those rather rare—and quite expensive—glass mirrors worn only by the wealthy and the nobility). My brown eyes stared back at me. I was already 5'6" and considered myself rather thin, especially compared to people like Kavon.

But I knew I couldn't stand there staring at myself all day, so I grabbed the clothes I had been wearing, threw them in the laundry basket, and set off.

"Don't forget – you have to tell me everything!", Rhys shouted from the front door.

"I will!" I shouted back over my shoulder.

I hurried almost the entire way to the archives, but slowed my pace just before arriving to catch my breath. When I got back to the palace archives, Master Grendan was waiting there, dressed in his finest clothes.

"Good," said Master Grendan. "You're back, and you have a few more minutes. But let's go now. It's better to be there a few minutes early, especially if you have an audience with the king."

As we approached the inner sanctuary of the palace, I kept asking myself why I had been taken along. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Master, I've been wondering about something..."

"And what could that be, young apprentice?" asked Master Grendan.

"It's just... why am I coming along? I'm just an apprentice."

Master Grendan was silent for a moment, and just as I feared I had overstepped my bounds, he spoke up. “I must confess, I don’t really know myself. I was summoned to a meeting at two o’clock this morning in the King’s office. I was to bring someone from the archives who would be expendable for an indefinite period, who could read and write sufficiently, and who was able to withstand the rigors of long-distance travel. Admittedly, the only one who met all the requirements and was available on such short notice was you.”

It was Clark's first trip to the Himalayas, although he had dreamed of it for years.

As an avid traveler, he had told everyone at home that he was going there because of the spectacular, exotic landscapes. Only he knew the true reason for his journey: the search for the legendary elixir of Venus.

Over the years, he had found fleeting references to it in books and magazine articles—a casual mention here and there—but no one ever wanted to talk about it in detail. It was like a "private joke" that everyone understood but no one explained, except that it wasn't a joke. From their reactions to questions, he could tell that those who had experienced it wanted to keep it a secret. One person, however, had missed the fact that he had experienced it in the remote village of Lachen in Sikkim. When he arrived at the airport in Bagodra, he was met by his guide and translator, Rakesh. The next morning, they set off for Lachen.

As the days passed, they grew closer and closer. Finally, Clark mustered all his courage and asked Rakesh if he had ever heard of the Venus Elixir. Rakesh's face twisted into a look of shock and disbelief. He remained silent for three long, embarrassed minutes, then answered: "What do you know about it?" He replied that he only knew it had something to do with sex, that there seemed to be something forbidden about it, and that no one talked about it. "So that's why you want to go for Laughter. Now I understand. There are some things you're better off not knowing," Rakesh replied. So he did know, but like everyone else, he didn't talk about it.

The next day, they stopped for lunch at a restaurant in a small village. While they were eating, Rakesh's cell phone rang. He excused himself and went outside. When he returned, his face was ashen-faced, and he looked like a completely different person. Clark asked him what was wrong. Rakesh replied, "Nothing," and that was the end of it.

Rakesh's expression was distant, and as the meal progressed, he began to visibly shake. Clark sensed that something was terribly wrong. They finished eating and returned to the car. "Rakesh, man, you look terrible. I feel like we've become friends over the last few days. Come on, man, you can tell me. I promise I'll keep it confidential, whatever it is." Rakesh burst into tears and explained that his father had taken out a loan against the family land. He had told everyone he was making regular payments and everything was fine, but in reality, he had squandered the money, and now the entire amount was due: $8,700—an impossible sum for a poor family to raise so quickly.

“I think we can help each other,” Clark replied. “How so?” Rakesh asked. “Tell me everything you know about the Elixir of Venus, and make sure I experience it. I will repay the debt.” Rakesh’s face betrayed a conflicting expression.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he replied. “Yes, sure,” said Clark. “Clark, before we continue, I have to ask you a very personal question.”

"Go ahead. Feel free to ask."

"Are you circumcised?"

“No, we don’t practice circumcision in my family,” Clark said.

"Good. Then you can enjoy the elixir of Venus."

Rakesh explained that in Sikkim, some women possess a rare inherited trait: the vagina has a second chamber at its upper end, a special vessel perfectly shaped to accommodate only the swollen tip of the man's penis – the glans. However, this chamber only opens after the entrance has been moistened with fresh, warm semen.

The mating process of these women, therefore, requires two men penetrating each other simultaneously. Clark's jaw dropped as he listened. This was even more erotic than he had ever imagined. "Then," Rakesh continued, "about 30 seconds after the first man ejaculates, the upper chamber opens, and the second man inserts his glans, exposing it as he enters. As his head hits the back wall of the chamber, the entrance hole behind the flared ridge at the back of his glans contracts, fixing it in place and preventing it from being withdrawn. The Venus elixir then begins to flow into the chamber and wash over his glans. It is a clear, silky fluid naturally secreted by these women. When absorbed by the glans, it interacts with the male brain, triggering an orgasm so intense, powerful, and long-lasting that those who experience it describe it as a 'visit to heaven.'" Men who awaken from this visit cannot tell whether an hour, a day, or a week has passed. 

Since only uncircumcised men have mucous membranes on the glans that can absorb the elixir, only they can experience this—for a circumcised man with his thick foreskin, it would be completely wasted. The mating is therefore essentially a competition between the two men: each tries to stimulate the other's penis to ejaculation with his own, so that the upper chamber opens and he can insert his own glans to experience the forbidden pleasure: the orgasm of his life. "How do they know which women have this feature?" Clark asked. "The only external identifying characteristic is their golden-blonde nipples and inner labia, unlike ordinary women," Rakesh replied.

The description hit Clark like a ton of bricks. He'd been expecting something sexually exciting, but this was so damn erotic that he couldn't think of anything else. On the drive to Lachen, he found himself constantly daydreaming about it, so engrossed that he couldn't even hold a normal conversation without his mind wandering. Finally, they reached the village, and Rakesh met with his contact to arrange everything. He returned to the guesthouse where they were staying and delivered the bad news to Clark: it would be another three days before the woman was in heat and available for mating. Clark told Rakesh his testicles were so full he felt like he was about to explode. Rakesh advised him not to release them, or he wouldn't experience maximum pleasure during intercourse, assuming he won the contest. With every movement, Clark's penis brushed against his underwear, stimulating her and arousing her. He wanted and needed even more pleasure, but he couldn't yet release the built-up pressure. It was the worst torture of his life.

Finally, the appointed day had arrived. The mating time was to take place at midnight, when the woman was expected to ovulate. At 11:45 p.m., Clark and the other man were led into the mating chamber and asked to undress. The mere removal of his underwear and the brushing of his fleshy foreskin against his waistband gave Clark a massive erection. The monk performing the ritual led him to a special, very peculiar bench in the center of the room. It was about 2.10 meters long and 30 centimeters wide, and about 60 centimeters off the floor. There was a cushion at each end, and to the right and left of the center were two round openings about 7.5 centimeters in diameter. Clark was instructed to sit in the middle, with his opponent facing him. The monk placed his hands on Clark's waist and lifted him slightly upward and backward to position him. Then Clark's swollen scrotum fell through the round hole in the bench. The monk did the same with his opponent. Then he positioned them so that the bases of the penis were perfectly aligned and disappeared under the bench.

Clark felt something being pulled on his testicles and attached to them.

"What the hell is this?" he thought to himself. Seeing his irritated and confused expression, Rakesh approached and whispered that the monk had attached a wooden "lock" to his testicles to hold them back, preventing him from fully inserting his penis if he didn't win the contest. The monk would stand beneath the bench, watching both pairs of testicles. Once one man's testicles began to rise and then spasm, the wooden lock would be removed from the other man's, allowing him to thrust his glans deep enough to reach the chamber of Venus and claim his prize: the precious, orgasm-inducing elixir. Once properly positioned, both men were laid on their backs, their erect penises pointing straight up, ready for mating.

Precisely at midnight, the woman was brought in. She was dressed only in a robe. The monk pulled a cord at the back, and the robe fell to the floor, revealing the golden-blonde nipples of her full, perfect breasts. Clark had never seen such a complexion before, exquisite and rare, bathed in the light of the full moon streaming through the window.

As his gaze drifted downwards, he could see her golden-blonde inner labia, already moist and swollen with anticipation of the mating ritual, glittering in the soft light.

The woman straddled the bench and pressed her fertile vulva against Clark's nostrils so he could smell her scent. Her pheromones made Clark's already swollen glans even more erect.

Swollen, almost to bursting. She also gave off her sweet scent. The monk held the two throbbing penises together, glans to glans, while the woman lay on top of them. The monk guided her moist, warm opening down to the two scabbarded swords waiting to penetrate her. Both men were blessed with enormous glans.

The woman put all her weight on the penises, but they wouldn't penetrate, so the monk placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down. The swollen heads were simply too large to enter her tight hole together, but

Finally, the pressure of their weight squeezed them together so tightly that they both penetrated with a loud, wet, muddy sound.

The pheromones from her swollen limbs aroused her, and she began to ride the two joined cocks like a wild stallion. Unable to control himself, Clark blurted out, "Fuck yeah! Oh, fuuuuuuck yeah!" The relief he had longed for for days was within his grasp.

Rakesh came and whispered in his ear: "Remember, if you come first, you will lose."

"Control yourself." Humiliated, Clark began to think about how he could accomplish the task: to make his opponent ejaculate first. He could feel the exquisite "sweet spot."

directly under his glans on the underside of his penis, which was rubbing against his opponent's. He thought to himself: "Don't fuck the pussy now, fuck the other cock."

and began thrusting his shaft against his opponent's sweet spot. He felt his foreskin roll up and down with each thrust. He felt his glans bump against the ceiling of the lower chamber, practically knocking on the pearly gates, but unable to penetrate. Clark continued rubbing his sweet spot against his opponent's and heard his breathing quicken, but his opponent never reached ejaculation. Frustrated, he put his right index finger in his mouth, moistened it, found his opponent's quivering anus, and began sensually massaging it. Suddenly, the guy started saying "Oh, oh, oh," and then howled like a wolf in the wild. Clark felt the man's warm semen fill her vagina. At that moment, he heard a noise under the bench and realized the monk had untied his testicles, finally allowing him to thrust with his full length. Slowly and deliberately, he pushed his glans upwards, feeling his way towards his goal: the upper chamber of her vagina. He pushed and pushed, but his penis wouldn't go any further.

Rakesh whispered in his ear, "It takes about 30 seconds for the upper chamber to react to the fresh semen and open." Then he felt it open and pushed his swollen glans inside. As the tip touched the back of the chamber, he felt the entrance close around the base of his head, enclosing him. "Damn!" he thought, "This is really happening!" At that moment, the woman began to moan, and her nipples changed shape.

The color changed from golden blonde to pink. Rakesh whispered in Clark's ear, "She's starting to release the elixir of Venus." A warm, pleasurable sensation washed over his swollen glans as it bathed in her sensual fluid. It was a bit like the feeling of finally being able to scratch yourself after suffering for hours, only a thousand times better. The sensation traveled to the base of his penis and then spread throughout his entire body, feeling better and better.

As it reached his fingers and toes, he began to writhe in a full-body orgasm, and his penis began to spurt a continuous stream of semen, like a thoroughbred urinating after a race. A feeling of well-being unlike anything he had ever experienced washed over him, and he felt as if he were flying over the Himalayas in a dream, yet strangely real, with heightened senses. All his worldly worries had vanished, and he knew that he would be alright no matter what happened in the future.

He slowly regained consciousness when he felt someone tap his arm and say, "Clark! Clark! Are you there?" It was Rakesh. "We finally had to wake you. We were worried sick. Three days have passed. Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm perfect. Absolutely perfect." "You're still breathing heavily," Rakesh said. "Yes, I know. What an experience! I'll never be satisfied with normal sex after this." "No, definitely not!" Rakesh replied. "I wanted to warn you about that." "By the way, the monk left this for you as a keepsake." Rakesh handed Clark the old wooden ball-lock he had worn during the contest. "Oh, good," Clark said, "something to remember it by." "Well, that's not all..." Rakesh said. "May I?"

Rakesh placed his thumb and forefinger on Clark's luscious foreskin and slowly pulled it back to reveal that his glans now had the beautiful golden-blonde color of the woman's nipples.

“You are now a member of the Brotherhood of the Golden Acorn,” Rakesh said. “This is a permanent effect of the Elixir of Venus. From now on, no matter where in the world you are, if you meet another man with the Golden Acorn at a urinal or in a steam room, he will immediately know that you have passed the test and know the feeling of supreme sexual satisfaction.” Then Rakesh unzipped his trousers, took out his fleshy, hooded penis, and bared it to reveal his own luscious, golden-blond glans.

"Welcome, brother!"

Terri moved her hand down to her fiancé's lower body and pressed her fingers into his groin to feel the thick, firm erection pressing against the fabric of his jeans. She suspected that the warm stiffness stemmed not only from the stimulation of her probing fingers but also from the contents of the card he was reading for the umpteenth time. This was one of the most precious things she enjoyed about the man in her life, the man she had chosen as her soulmate for the rest of her life. Her ear pressed to his chest, she listened to the slight acceleration of his pounding heartbeat. Even if he wasn't very verbally expressive, those living organs that constituted his sex conveyed the nuances of his desires and intentions with endearing complexity. "Oh, come on, sweetheart. Admit it! You really want to try it. Don't tell me you haven't been curious about something like that for a long time."

His answer was quick and almost irritated: "I'm not gay."

"I know, sweetie. If a girl had slipped you this card at brunch today, I would have found out right away and strangled her. But the thought of another guy being into you makes me wet so quickly." He managed to undress her in record time and was amazed at how often she had an orgasm, always with trembling intensity.

"Damn it!" he thought. "If I bring her to such an intense climax and the sex continues to be this great, I have to keep going as long as I can. What a way to start the new year." The trigger for this whole New Year's mood was an anonymously delivered, homemade Valentine's Day card from an apparently gay friend. It read:

Roses are red, violets are blue. I know you have a great girlfriend, but I'll still love you!

Roses are red, violets are blue, I should know better, that's true, but you'll stay in my head!

Roses are red, violets are blue. Don't be offended, I'm a guy who wants you, dude!

Roses are red, violets are blue. You've probably wondered if that's true. What's it like to give a guy a blowjob!

Roses are red, violets are blue, you give me one, Jude. My love for you will always be real!

Roses are red, violets are blue, we come to a secret bed, you will know how much I love you!

Roses are red, violets are blue, let's be naked together, don't hold back and let's fuck!

I'm so turned on by you, Jude. I'm sure you know that. I know you're not gay, but why don't you try it with another man? I'm super discreet. No one ever has to know. Afterward, you can just leave, and no one will notice. I'm so in love, I suggest we meet on Valentine's Day. But with Terri, I know that might be difficult, so we can meet the weekend after if that works better for you.

Just admit it to yourself: you want to know what it's like to suck another cock someday. Why deny yourself that curiosity? Here's my email address: hot4jude@xxxmeet.net. If you're not interested, just write back. If you don't reply, I'll know you're doing something that's not hurting anyone and at least thinking about it. I'll get back to you within a few days before Valentine's Day and tell you who I am, when and how I fell in love with you, and where we can meet.

Love from a secret admirer and passionate lover you would love to have!

It was Terri, not her fiancé Jude, who replied the next day.

Dear Hot4Jude,

First off, I know where you're from (HA! HA!). Jude's a really sexy guy. But I hope you are too. I can get really turned on when there's a cute guy who wants to make out with my guy. I want another hot guy to seduce Jude and get really intimate and passionate with him. Do I know you?

If you text me and tell me who you are, and I think you're cute, then trust me when I insist that Jude meet up with you on Valentine's Day and flirt with you—as a Valentine's Day gift for me. I know his gay cousin gave him a blowjob once between serious relationships. According to Jude, he was good at it. But I don't think (or I'm not sure) if he's ever given another guy a blowjob before. If I agree to this little Valentine's Day rendezvous, he'll grant your wish for him to give you a blowjob.

One more question: Do you feel like masturbating while you're having sex with Jude? I look forward to your reply soon and suggest you send me some pictures of yourself.

XO in appreciation, Terri

PS: You could really score points if the pictures showed you naked.

Dear Terri,

I'm just so excited that the idea of Jude having sex with me turns you on so much. To be perfectly frank, I want Jude to be my gay lover. But I love your devotion and the openness with which you express your feelings. I want him to be your straight lover (and husband) too. Do you think that's possible? I hope I'm sweet enough for you. I'm Tristan Bellwether, and we've known each other for a while. I was Jude's tennis coach (sort of, I assisted Jed Numbers) when he was in college. Yeah, I know. It was a terrible season.

In my Valentine's Day message, I wrote that I would explain how I fell in love with Jude. When I was coaching the tennis team, I was struck by his ever-smiling blue eyes and his radiant smile. When I helped him serve, his muscles visibly tensed, and his scent made me dizzy, as if I were high. But it wasn't until the locker room showers that I truly fell in love with him. Most men shower rather discreetly below the waist in each other's presence. But some are completely relaxed and wash themselves as they normally would. That was Jude. It didn't matter if we had just lost a match; those smiling eyes would glance at a teammate while he chatted, and his hand would almost absentmindedly soap and rinse his crotch, penis, testicles, and thoroughly washed pubic hair. His hips were almost tilted slightly forward, as if emphasizing his hygiene over any sexual advances. Well, it was a sight to behold, and more than once I found myself almost running to a pantry to hide the fact that I was getting an erection.

Mind you, I've always known I had a thing for well-built men, but it wasn't until I met Jude that I realized I was gay through and through. I broke up with my girlfriend at the time and started looking for gay flings, hoping to one day be Jude's equal, or even better. Four years later, that still hasn't happened, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for letting me confide in you about my intense feelings for Jude. Whatever happens, I hope we can be close friends from now on. Yes, I ejaculate and shoot a hot load when I dream about sleeping with him. Haha! I'll see if I can send you some nudes sometime.

... The rest of the correspondence concerned the motel where they would meet and other logistical information for a Valentine's Day meeting.

Dear Tristan,

Everything's ready, Sweetie, and Jude seems a little suspicious of the whole thing. But I think he's a little excited and curious to see how it'll all turn out. Me? I get wet every time I think about it. Haha! So I call you Sweetie, like I call Jude, but I feel like I know you like a brother. I know you, but we didn't know you were gay. You're a bit shorter than usual, but I think you're really cute, and I'm sure any nude pics you could send me would turn me on a lot. The thought of the two of you naked and in each other's arms almost makes my fingers freeze. Haha!

I know exactly what you mean about Jude showering. Sometimes I sneak in and stand way back in the tub while he's showering, and ask him to pretend I'm not there. Watching him wash himself as the water rushes over him, casually humming and singing in his soft voice, is the most sensual thing I've ever seen.

As for Jude, who will be both your lover and my husband, we'll just have to wait and see how things develop. Whatever happens, I just have a feeling I can truly trust you and that you wouldn't hurt us or yourself. We're soulmates when it comes to the finer things in life. Haha! But he'll definitely be at the motel at 6:00 PM on Thursday night, doing whatever you ask of him.

XO with hugs and kisses, Terri

PS: For your information: Jude has such a cute ass that he enjoyed it when I fucked him with a strap-on every now and then over the last year or so.

Tristan waited in an unassuming, almost sterile motel room, determined not to look slovenly in front of his new lover. He wore his best beige cashmere sweater, but his first impulse after checking in and inspecting the room was to undress and leave the door unlocked. He would greet his new lover naked on the queen-size bed. He had started blind dates under similar circumstances before, but his common sense told him this would be too daring for a first encounter with a nervous straight man.

When his partner knocked on the door on that unusually mild evening, he opened it and Jude came in, dressed in a grey hoodie and worn jeans.

"Hello Jude! Thank you for coming by."

Jude stared at him, speechless and almost fearful, and suddenly dropped to his knees before the startled Tristan. He placed one hand on the standing man's waist and reached for the zipper with the other. His mind had been racing all day. He couldn't wait to see the man his fiancée had urged him to meet and embrace in physical intimacy. He would find out once and for all whether he would enjoy or be repulsed by giving another man oral sex. Tristan was instantly aroused and became as hard as a rock. Was it really true that the man of his dreams would finally take the center of his masculine arousal into his mouth and suck an incredible, explosive load out of him? His head spun at the delicious sensation of the taller man reaching through his open fly and boxer shorts with outstretched fingers, grasping his 7-inch, throbbing flesh and drawing it free.

I'd like to tell you a little about myself. I was born in 1900, a very fortunate year. My parents belonged to an old, wealthy family, and I was their only child. They weren't close, but I knew they loved their son. I grew up, as they say, "with a spoon in my mouth." Our estate was in upstate New York and was enormous. My mother was sickly, and my father was away on business most of the time. For many years, I was cared for by various nannies and, by and large, led a comfortable life. By 16, I was a handsome, athletic boy who began to notice the legs and figures of the girls and women who worked as servants. One day, my nanny came into our library and found one of the kitchen maids (a pretty 13-year-old girl) in my arms. We kissed affectionately and listened while my eager, inexperienced hands caressed her underdeveloped breasts. Naturally, my parents found out. My mother was distraught and said it was a temptation from the devil. She dismissed the poor girl and hired a Bible teacher for me. When my father returned home from his trip, he called me into the library to give himself and my mother an advance and reprimanded me for a while about the evils in society. I didn't feel the sting too much, since he mostly lectured me. He didn't even mention my own indiscretion.

Two weeks later, at dinner, Father informed my mother and me that it was time for me to accompany him to New York City so he could show his son how he did business. I was thrilled and delighted. Of course, I had been to the city before, but not on business with Father. I had met many of his employees and even attended a meeting in one of his backyards. On the second evening, after we had dined at his club, Father told me he had planned a detour instead of letting us drive back to the Ritz. He explained that I was no longer a boy and that my recent behavior indicated an interest in the fairer sex. I blushed and nodded in agreement. Shortly afterward, we pulled up in front of a huge building, and Father asked me to follow him. We went up to the third floor, and Father knocked on the door of an apartment. I assumed we were going to meet another of Father's colleagues. The door swung open to reveal a statuesque woman in her mid-thirties. She had apparently been expecting us and ushered us inside while her maid took our coats. She called Father by his first name and was sweet and friendly when we introduced ourselves. She told me she'd been waiting for me for some time and that my glans had obviously fallen not far from Father's oak tree. She went to her sideboard and poured Father a drink. His favorite. How did she know? She poured another and, to my surprise, handed it to me. As I sat there listening to her talk and enjoy herself, I realized she was very pretty, full-breasted and slim. Her dress exposed her breasts more than any I'd seen on women in their homes. I couldn't help staring. She and Father seemed to get along very well, and I wondered what kind of business Father was involved in with her. (I was still an innocent, after all.) You've probably already guessed that I was in the company of Father's mistress. After some time and a few pleasantries, Father told Betty that I'd tried to flirt with the employee. My ears burned with heat, and I stared at the floor. Betty approached me, and I felt her gentle touch on my cheek. Then she gently lifted my chin so I could admire her beautiful face. "These are truly lucky girls who catch the eye of such a handsome, well-groomed young man as yourself, Mark. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's perfectly natural for a boy your age to want to know about such things." The story ended with my father telling me to spend the night with Betty while he returned to our lodgings. I was quite frightened, but I pulled myself together. Father wished me goodnight, and Betty excused herself as she changed into something more comfortable. Her maid (a pretty little girl my age) made me another drink while I waited. I felt warm inside and as relaxed as I was scared. Betty came into the room wearing a shirt that looked as if it were made of air. My eyes widened when I saw her. I could clearly see her sagging, swinging breasts, her flat stomach, her narrow waist, a patch of brown hair in the same place as me between her legs, and her slender legs. I was sitting on her oversized couch and was obviously in an advanced state of arousal.

I spent the entire night in Bettie's loving, knowing arms. I became intimately familiar with every inch of her feminine charms and embraced her no fewer than five times during the long night. I was a man now. My father had told me the evening before that he would pick me up at ten, so I slipped out of the bed where that beautiful, naked woman lay and found her shower room. As I washed myself under a warm stream of water and recounted the events of the greatest night of my life, the curtain parted and in walked the young maid, as naked as the day she was born. I didn't even know her name, but she slid into my arms and asked if I would have anything left when her mistress was finished with me. Having never been in the arms of a naked Black girl before, I was immediately at ease and showed the maid what I had learned the previous evening. Father took a tired, happy young man with wobbly knees into his arms. He didn't say a word about what had happened, but spoke only about the events of the day. For a few moments I almost thought it had all been a dream, but the feeling of my withered and sore penis under my pants reminded me that I was indeed a man.

I returned home a wiser and more worldly young man. One of life's greatest joys had been revealed to me. The joy and glory of reality surpassed my innocent fantasies. The pleasure of thrusting into Bettie's wetness while playing with her enormous breasts was a life-changing experience. Fucking her slender young maid the next morning showed me that every encounter was like a glass of wine from different bottles. Every woman, every encounter should be different and enjoyed in its own way.

Mother returned to her sickbed and her spa treatments, and Father resumed his all-consuming business. I studied diligently and exercised, but now my previous interest in sinful thoughts had transformed into an unchecked, slave-like lust. I regarded almost all of our servants with lust. The young girls and the older women. The plump ones with large bottoms and breasts, and the thin ones. Every morning and evening, I rubbed my penis and imagined my night with Betty and her maid and all the women around me. Something interesting also happened during this time. I began to regard my fellow athletes and some of the male servants in our house in a similar way to how I regard women. This troubled me during my waking hours, but at night, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I wondered, if I could enjoy my own body so much, why shouldn't I be able to enjoy another man's penis? Women enjoyed it, didn't they? My lustful fantasies soon encompassed not only visions of the women in our household, but I also imagined what some of the young men looked like naked. I began to create fantasy couples with our servants and would lie in bed at night, stroke my hard penis, and imagine them fucking like Betty, and that's what I did. One day I needed an old volume of Latin American history, so I went to the library.