The man swallowed painfully and the veins on his forehead seemed swollen, then his mouth moved. "Suck it, you little punk!" he spewed. "Suck it or I'll stick it right up your sweet little ass!"
Cecil stared at it, then closed his eyes and choked. He couldn't get that in his mouth! Not that horrible thing that ugly prick. "No " he pleaded, "please no!"
The man reached down, seized Cecil's hair, dragged his face forward between his meaty thighs. "Suck," he rasped. The huge slitted shaft seemed to weave in front of Cecil's eyes. It was the most monstrous thing he'd ever seen. The cruel hands tore at his hair painfully. Cecil gave a high scream like a girl; then with tears in his eyes he opened his mouth wide, forced his lips to reach forward and encircle the massive, throbbing penis.
It filled his mouth almost completely. There was barely room for Cecil to slide his tongue around the gross, pulsing cock. He gagged, choked, then touched the slitted end with the tip of his tongue.
The man sighed, thrust himself forward until his organ touched the back of Cecil's throat. "Suck it, you little pansy," he groaned, "eat it, chew it, swallow it " his voice broke into low, panting moans, then he sobbed, "Oh, make me come you limp, little nance!"
Cecil had seen the big, white convertible as soon as he turned onto the street that led to the beach. It was parked with its top down and the driver was leaning back in his seat, listening to the loud music that blared from his radio.
"Hi, there," he called as Cecil was passing.
Cecil turned, nodded slightly, and was about to go on when the man beckoned.
"Is this the way to the beach?" he asked when Cecil had hesitantly approached his car.
"Yes," Cecil told him politely, "it's right at the end of the street."
The man looked at Cecil calculatingly. "You going there?" he asked, making his voice casual, pleasant.
Cecil looked at the man doubtfully. He wasn't a young man, but he wasn't old either. The suit that he wore was white and, like the skin on his face, it seemed to be tightly stretched over his flesh.
"Y – yes," he answered nervously.
"Get in." The man pushed open the door on Cecil's side of the car.
"W – well " Cecil hesitated, wondering why the man was being so generous, wondering whether there was another reason. But he couldn't think of anything that should scare him.
"Go ahead," said the man, smiling. "I'll give you a ride down. I like to sit and look at the water sometimes."
"You do!" Cecil sounded pleased. He got in the car, sank down into the roomy seat, and thought. That's what I like to do! Just sit and stare at the water. He watched the man reach forward, turn on the radio, and smile at Cecil. The music was nice, the kind that Cecil liked, soft and sweet, not loud and hard like the music that Alma and Joe used to dance to.
Joel Cecil thought. He didn't come around anymore. Not since the night that he and Alma had gone out in the car and… The small smile played round Cecil's lips as he remembered. He would never forget that time, the wondrous time, the first time with Alma.
The man saw his smile. "You feeling happy?" he asked, grinning.
Cecil felt his face flush as though the man could read the secret thoughts in his mind. "Just thinking of something," he murmured. "Just remembering " His voice trailed off.
"Pleasant memories," said the man, he turned the wheel sharply and the car made a rocking, slurring left turn.
Cecil sat up with a jerk. "W – where we going?" he asked nervously. He knew this road!
"We can get near the water this way," the man murmured.
Cecil knew that, too! This was the road that Alma had taken the night that…
"Why?" Cecil asked. "Why are we going this way?"
The man laughed. "Nothing to be worried about," he said calmly. "It's nice and quiet down here. There aren't the crowds that they get at – "
His voice went on, but Cecil wasn't listening. The man knew the way to the beach! He even knew that you could drive through the trees and reach the desired stretch further down this road. So, if he knew, why had he asked Cecil? Why? What did he want?
"Stop!" Cecil said, his voice too high. "I want to get out here "
"Whattsamatter?" the man asked. "What're you afraid of?"
The car moved forward more quickly.
"I I wanna get out " Cecil sounded like a small child instead of the thirteen year old that he was.
"You can get out near the water," the man said very softly.
There were trees on either side of the road now. This was the quieter part, the deserted part. The car turned off the highway close to the spot where Alma had stopped so very urgently on that night so long ago and threaded its way across the rough ground, through the scattered trees.
"We'll be able to see the water in a minute," the man murmured, and, as Cecil stared to his right, he saw the glint of bright sunlight on blue water.
They were there! The car rocked to a halt and the man smiled down at Cecil. "Nothing to be scared of," he murmured, wriggling himself into a more comfortable position on the bright red leather seat.
Cecil could hear the beating of his own heart above the sweet music. But the beat of the music was steady, even while his heart had a jerky, erratic rhythm. He felt an expanding lump in his throat, then forced himself to ask, "Why why did you ask me the way to the beach?" His voice was tremulous and low.
"Because I wanted to know the way!" The man laughed again. "Silly question," he said.
"You you already knew the way," Cecil murmured quietly.
The smile disappeared from the man's face, then he spoke very softly. "So maybe I did know the way," he looked at Cecil with a strange light in his eye. "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."
Cecil looked up. "Why?" he asked in a near – whisper.
The man leaned toward him. "Maybe you're the kind of boy a man like me wants to to talk to." He slid across the seat until his body was touching Cecil's.
Cecil strained himself away until he was pressing against the car door. "Why?" he mouthed hoarsely. He could see that the man had reached down to his crotch. He was holding something through his clothing, something that looked long and big and hard.
His awful thing! Cecil felt the horror bubble up to his throat. The man's prick his monstrous prick! He saw him fingering his penis lewdly, lasciviously, and then he felt his own penis move with an involuntary sympathetic reaction.
Oh, no! Cecil wanted to scream. He wasn't like that! He wasn't crude and rough and horrible! He was Cecil he was nice!
"Because I like you." The man reached out. His knowing, probing fingers slid unerringly onto Cecil's puny penis. "Because I think you've got a nice little cock," said the man, feeling Cecil through his pants.
Cecil wanted to drag himself away, but there was no place to go. He was trapped against the car door. "No," he pleaded. "Please no."
"Yes," said the man, smiling. "Oh, yes!"
His hand slid open the zipper, and Cecil lay back, feeling helpless, his limbs like water and without enough strength to struggle, to stop the man from… "No," he groaned. "No!"
The searching fingers found his twitching penis, drew it carefully from within the folds of his clothing, then tickled it gently, delicately, until it gave a tiny rear.
"It's waking up." the man sounded pleased. Then, before Cecil realized what he was going to do, he leaned forward, dropped his head onto Cecil's lap, and rasped, "D*you wanna be sucked off?"
The low sob burst from Cecil's lips. "Don't do that please don’t do that!" How could an awful man do this thing to him? This precious thing, this sacred thing that only Alma could do? "Please," he moaned, "please don't!"
But it was too late for please. The thick, sensual lips had closed around his cock, and as Cecil strained against the beginning thrills that made him want to jerk and wriggle his hips, the man's wet tongue slicked a moist passion – pattern of new desires onto the unwilling but eagerly wanting body of the latent boy – child.
"Ooh," Cecil moaned. "Oh oh oh… Alma!" His voice rose, his body writhed out of his control and became shaken by tremors as he began to pump his hips. The thick, warm lips sucked sweetly, licking tiny lust smears on the smooth curves of the firming penis. "Alma!" Cecil squealed. "Oh, Alma!"
His hips vibrated wildly, his small cock spurted a feeble spray of bittersweet juice onto the man's tongue.
He drew back, glanced at the squirming boy, then licked at the sticky globs of opaque wetness on his lips. He smiled, asked, "Who's Alma?"
Cecil lay back with his eyes closed, his penis spewing out its last feeble dregs of juice. "Iggly," he murmured softly. "Alma! Iggly " then he opened his eyes and saw the man. His face whitened, lips trembled. "You shouldn't have!" he blurted. "Only Alma can do that!" His face was as outraged as his voice.
The man stared at him with a curious expression. He licked an errant sliver of moisture from the edge of his mouth, then asked again, "Who's Alma?"
Cecil was silent for a long time before he answered. "Alma," he swallowed hard, "is my sister."
The man's eyes opened wide in surprise. After a minute he reached down to his crotch, unzipped his pants and eased out his penis. Cecil watched with horror as it swelled before his eyes. The man held it lightly, then gently stroked it up and down.
He smiled at Cecil, then murmured, "Tell me about Alma. All about Alma!"
And, in a few frightened moments, Cecil did…
Later, the man leaned back, gave Cecil a small, secret smile, and said, "Alma must be quite a girl!"
Cecil had finished his story, had told all about Alma. He hated himself. But when the man told him to do something, a crazy, frightening compulsion forced him to obey.
Big, fleshy buttocks slid across the car seat. Cecil cast his frightened eyes down with an awful fascination. The cock had swollen to a grotesque size. Its slitted tip seemed to open and close menacingly at Cecil's face. Cecil drew himself back, cringed in the corner. The penis seemed to jump when the man spoke…
"Go down on it."
Cecil flinched. "I – I can't!"
"Suck it!" hissed the man.
"No!" Cecil covered his eyes with his hands.
"Alma did you can, too!" The cruel words cut into Cecil's mind. How could he have talked of Alma to a beast like this?
"N – no oh, please! N – nooo " he pleaded.
"Suck me, you little fairy!" The harsh, passion – filled voice spewed into his ear, then the man leaned forward, pressed his mouth against Cecil's face, dragged his hands away, and* kissed him with a wet, slavering mouth.
"P – pleeeze " Cecil moaned when he had torn away his lips. But the man had grabbed his hair, forced his head down, held his face between his sweating, smelling thighs until Cecil sucked, and sucked, and sucked again… Until the spitting cock spurted.
When the nauseous mass of juice had burned the back of his throat, Cecil was forced to swallow it, lick every last drop from his trembling lips, his shaking chin until all the dregs of passion – juice that he had dragged from the spewing slit had dribbled into his body.