Delivery Boy Seduction

Mr. Collins began fucking me in earnest. For the next several minutes, his hips flexed against my backside as he penetrated me fast and deep. Pleasure was stronger than pain now and I began pushing back in time to his thrusts. I tingled and burned inside.

"Damn, that hot ass of yours is tighter than pussy," Mr. Collins said through laboured breath. "I usually last a long time, but you're going to make me come soon. Where do you want it?"

I didn't know what he meant at first, but then I realized he was talking about his load. I couldn't think of anywhere I wanted it more than in my hungry hole and I told him so.

"I'll fill your ass with my cum, you dirty little slut."

My dick spasmed at the thought of being this man's slut. At less than half his age, I was exhausted; where did he find the energy to hammer my ass like that? My tired arms buckled and my head touched the sofa cushion. My ass was held firmly in place by the man fucking it.

"Oh, fuck, kid," Mr. Collins said. "Here it comes!"

His thrusts were desperately rapid until he came to a full stop deep inside me. As he groaned in ecstasy, I felt his cum flooding my bowels. It was a deeply satisfying sensation but it was cut short as Mr. Collins abruptly pulled out of my ass and slapped me on my right buttock.

"You are a prize piece of meat, son."

I muttered my thanks for the sort-of compliment, but I was horny and desperate to come and as I let Mr. Collins turn me over face-up, my eyes pleaded with his.

"Don't worry, kid," Mr. Collins said as he wrapped his hand around my cock. "In this game, everyone's a winner."

The blowjob that followed was both sensual and efficient. When I filled Mr. Collins' mouth with my sperm, it felt like my lifeforce was being forced out the head of my cock. Every sinew of my body was taut and my stomach muscles flexed in time to the eruptions of my semen. As the feeling passed and Mr. Collins brought me down from my orgasmic high, my entire body relaxed and I fell asleep, naked and vulnerable on Mr. Collins' couch.

When I woke, it was about ten p.m., and it was to Mr. Collins touching me. I was instantly erect. Like a desperate whore, I opened my legs wide, inviting a fresh violation from the older man. Mr. Collins was up to the challenge and this time, the penetration brought only pleasure. I came before him on this occasion, and without touching my cock.

The rest of the night played out with encounter after encounter, with a few hours of sleep in between. By morning, I had swallowed Mr. Collins' cum twice and my ass was sore as hell, but otherwise I felt incredibly satisfied. Even the pain in my arse felt kind of good.

"Okay, kid," Mr. Collins told me as he yanked his pants on. "You're good in bed. I may place another grocery order for next Saturday afternoon."

I was pleased with his praise and thanked him as I too pulled on my clothes. When we were both dressed, Mr. Collins handed me a ten-dollar bill.

"That's your tip for the delivery. Worth every penny."

For a grocery delivery clerk in 1988, that was a good tip. I also realized that taking money after sex might make me seem like a whore, and the notion excited me. I hoped Mr. Collins would need another delivery soon.

These Saturday afternoon dates continued as a semi-regular thing for a year, until I went off to college. In that time, I was Mr. Collins' obedient and submissive boy-toy. I had my first threesomes with Mr. Collins and his friends. Under his tutelage, I learned how to give good head and how to pleasure a man's cock with my ass. He always tipped me ten dollars; I think he did that to discourage the notion that our activities were anything but pleasurable transactions. A bit of me fell in love with him, but I knew I was nothing but a dalliance to Mr. Collins. That was over thirty years ago; I never saw him again after the fall of 1989, but I have never forgotten my mentor.

He would be in his eighties now if he's still alive. I hope he has a new apprentice to keep him satisfied.

As for me, I'm now approximately the age Mr. Collins was when we first met. I guess I am not loud and proud, but I am openly bisexual. I've never settled down with one partner for very long, and over the years I have enjoyed many romps and frolics with young men I initiated into the world of gay sex just as Mr. Collins taught me. I like to think I am carrying on a proud tradition.

Tonight, at the end of his shift, a nineteen-year-old delivery guy will bring me both a pizza and his skinny ass, and as always, after I've come up his arse and down his throat, I will tip him twenty dollars.

Inflation.