Underwear Ch. 09

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SadieRose
SadieRose
425 Followers

"Oh fuck, man! This is just amazing sex!"

Rayne nodded agreement and took the blond in his mouth again. This time he pushed a probing finger up his mate's wet, well-fucked anus and felt Sam buck a little faster. His groans shivered pleasingly down Rayne's aching cock shaft into his nuts, which were tensing and releasing steadily in their pale, waxed sac. Sam sat up then and fumbled in a drawer by the bed for some lube. Rayne did not resist when the blond's wet finger pushed slowly up his fuck-chute.

Sam's mouth came back down onto his erection but with fingers teasing each other's sweet spots they were rushing back up too fast. Rayne came up off him, whispering an urgent order to stop. To his amazement, Sam did and for a moment they just kissed one another breathlessly. Then Sam moved astride him, facing him, and their lips met again kissing harder, cocks rubbing together between their bare bellies.

Rayne's fingers were moving slowly inside Sam again as they embraced and their tongues sparred restlessly. Then Sam knelt up, slicking the vampire's hard penis with his slippery hand and guiding the head to his warm, yielding entrance. Rayne came up on his elbows, watching as Sam writhed down on him and their lips met and melted together once more. That was all it took. Sam's body went into a spastic rhythm astride him as the come jetted, unchecked from his lurching cock. Rayne cried out in ecstasy as he answered the fast, violent emission by shooting his own seed hard up Sam's accommodating arsehole.

They collapsed together in a sweating, panting, cum-streaked heap of limbs. For a little while neither man could speak.

Then Sam gasped; "O-my-fuckin'-god! That was just the best fuck ever. I totally lo..."

Rayne kissed his sweet mouth before he could finish, chuckling a firm but tender denial. He bit Sam's lower lip gently. "Don't... don't say it. Yes, it was amazing, sweetheart."

"Can we do this again, soon? I mean..." Sam's dark brown eyes were wide and desperate. "Even if you can't bite me, we can still just fuck, yeah?"

"I have a boyfriend, Sam," Rayne whispered, almost apologetically. He was conceding that it would be pleasant to lose himself in Sam's tight, hot body more often though.

"I don't mind," the boy declared earnestly. "We can still be fuck-buds, yeah?"

Rayne looked up seriously at him. Sam was so young, and so eager. There was something comically shameless about it. He did not have the heart to hurt the lad's feelings, not after what they had just enjoyed.

"I'll think about it," he said diplomatically.

"You better think long an' hard!" Sam persisted, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I'm always long an' hard when I think about you, sweetheart," Rayne told him with a grin. "You're so gorgeous, angel. I'll ring you over the weekend, okay? My... my boyfriend likes cute little twinks, actually. Maybe he'd be up for a threesome. How's that sound?"

Sam's eyes glittered. "Yummy... if he's as hot as you, Ray!"

Rayne kissed his cheek and his neck, whispering in his ear; "Kev's a big ol' muscle stud, but he's got nine and half chubby inches and his own bondage gear!"

The reaction he got was almost Pavlovian. Sam stiffened up automatically for those magic words and Rayne spent a happy half hour sucking his hot young nuts dry once more.

He did not see Kevan that evening. His lover was working late on a job, he claimed. Sated from the earlier session with young Sam, Rayne did not mind too much. Tomorrow would be Thursday and he already had Tony's lovely black cock to look forward to. He'd taken some pictures of cute little Sam to show his lover though. The likelihood of Kev not wanting that threesome was absolute zilch!

Now he toyed with the mailbox number again. Would it look too desperate or too transparent if he rang them back tonight or just like youthful exuberance? And should he wait for Kevan to set back-up in place first? But if they didn't know when, they couldn't arrange the appropriate support, could they? He would just have to try and arrange matters so that he could give them adequate warning.

Rayne lay back on the bed and dialled the number, his pulse drumming anxiously in his breast. When the voicemail message kicked in he almost hung up, feeling slightly sick again. He held his nerve though.

"Hi, this is Daddy's Raindrop," he said in a light, husky tone when he heard the beep. "I met a guy the other day that told me... mmm... he told me about how you guys will, like, ummm... gangbang me if I wanted it. Ummm... I s'pose this means I want it. So what happens now? Does one of you ring me back? This is my number."

He left the mobile number and hung up feeling more than a little bit soiled.

He was tensed for the ringtone on his phone for the rest of the evening but nothing happened and eventually he slipped into a light doze on the sofa, curled up watching some tame movie feed on his laptop. He was actually dreaming when the phone chirruped a little after midnight; he had been walking in the dunes back home on St Mary's Bay and kept seeing the faces he had known in his childhood, though he himself was obstinately grown up. Snatching for the phone he knocked it onto the floor and had to grapple around for it first.

"Uh... hi," he murmured sleepily, cupping it to his ear at last. For some reason he had imagined it would be Kevan.

"Hello little raindrop," a breathless voice whispered, bringing him awake with an uncomfortable jolt. "Are you in bed, sweetcheeks?"

"Uhh... kind of. I'm just... surfing, y'know," he breathed back feeling a little short of air, which was ridiculous really since he didn't need it. "You got my message?"

"I did. So did quite a few of my friends," the man chuckled suggestively. "You're online, baby?"

"Uh-huh."

"Go to this website," the guy told him, giving him a URL, which he typed in rapidly with one shaking hand. It brought up a plain, anonymous looking homepage with some standard admin small type and asked him for a login and password.

When he related this back to the stranger on the phone he was given a sequence of letters, numbers and underscores to type in. As he tapped it on the keyboard he realised that they obscurely spelled out a couple of words.

801_S3X3R5

BOI-SEXERS

Warily he pressed the return key and the laptop opened up an equally nondescript menu page. The tabs were all access points labelled variously; TEEN; SPANKING; BONDAGE BOIZ; GANGFUCK; PRE-TEEN and rather disturbingly PRE-SCHOOL. Rayne closed his eyes for a moment. He felt ill again now.

"Are you in, sweetcheeks?" the man asked him hoarsely and he made an affirmative noise, not trusting his tongue.

"Click on the GANGFUCK tab and go to GALLERY," his instructor panted now. "Then take your pants off and have a nice slow stroke while you check out what we're gonna do to you, Raindrop."

Rayne bit down on his lips as he steered the cursor to the requisite tabs and the GALLERY link opened up a new window with thumbnail images of about twenty naked boys or youngish looking men. They were a variety of ages from 13 to 17 and had numbers under them, mostly ones and twos. One blond haired lad of 15 had the numbers one to seven.

Tentatively he moved his cursor over the numbers, which immediately highlighted as links. They were photo-sets then, he decided and clicked through them one by one. His breathing quickened as he calculated that each set was from a different sex session. The locations and the numbers of men involved were different from set to set. The boy had taken part in seven gangbangs, each of which his attackers had photographed in minuscule detail. The first was clearly a couple of years old at least.

"Mmm... you like that don't you? I can hear you getting all hot and bothered, Raindrop," the man on the phone whispered huskily. "Are you ready to get some of that action, sweetcheeks."

"Where do you do it?" Rayne asked him weakly.

"Lots of places, my chicken," the speaker answered obscurely. "If you're still hot for it, read the information page then click on CONTACT and upload your details and a photo. Don't use your real name or your address, chickie, just a nickname like Raindrop, and your mobile or an e-mail addy. A nudie pic always gets you more cock. You like cock, don't you sweetcheeks?"

"Umm... yeah," Rayne conceded quietly.

"Course you do, or you wouldn't be talkin' to me now," the stranger panted rhythmically. He was blatantly pumping his dick now and Rayne wanted to just hang up and go hide somewhere. "Are you naked, Raindrop?"

"Yeah," he lied in a faint voice.

"Mmm... so good! Stroke that hot little cock for me, chickie. How many times have you been fucked?"

Rayne swallowed bile. "Just three times," he muttered awkwardly. "The first bloke did me twice. He gave me this number."

"You must have been tasty," the guy laughed. It was a hoarse, dirty laugh, one that said more than words that he was wanking as they chatted. "Did he know he was getting your cherry, sweetcheeks?"

"Uh-huh... yeah." Rayne wanted to hang up but he figured that would just look weird and he couldn't risk it at this stage.

"How old are you, my love?" the man panted, jerking faster now.

"mmm... fourteen," Rayne told him, wishing a slow, vile death on the man even as he slumped back down on the sofa with the phone cupped to his ear.

"You still live at home with mum and dad?"

"No... I'm adopted. I live with a foster mum," he fabricated vaguely, deciding that a bit of a sob story might get rid of the bastard faster.

"Is she asleep, chicken?"

"Yeah."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah..." Rayne hesitated over this reply.

"Mmmm... that's nice. D'you like to shove things into your tight little hole when you're stroking that sexy cock, Raindrop?" he panted. "I bet you like having something long and hard up that tight young tube, don't you?"

Rayne heard him grunting and huffing, then groaning with satisfaction as he jacked off to his own sordid fantasy. Feeling very, very sick he murmured; "I think she's awake. I can hear her moving about. I've got to go."

"Leave your details on the site, chicken. We'll do the rest," the man grunted and hung up abruptly.

"Jesus! Thank you!" Rayne dropped the phone and scrambled to the kitchen. He puked blood and bile into the waste disposal then ran the taps hard, splashing his face and chest, feeling too hot and too cold at the same time. Leaving the taps running he collapsed onto the floor and wrapped his bare arms around his head. His skull was pounding; fury and impotence combining to make the blood seethe in his brain. It took him a long, long time to calm down, by which point he was just sobbing quietly on the kitchen floor.

"I can't do this," he wept, feeling the anger rise once more. "Oh Christ! I can't do this again!"

The sun was dragging itself above the horizon by the time he crawled back to the lounge and turned off his laptop. The sleek little device felt soiled now. He wanted to smash and burn it, to just get it out of his sight, but he left it sitting on the coffee table by the sofa. No doubt Kev would want to examine it later.

Rayne hauled himself up the stairs and showered under searingly hot water for over half an hour. Then he towelled off and slumped on the bed, weak and sick and utterly exhausted but unable to sink into sleep. When he closed his eyes the memories were violent stains across the insides of his fluttering lids. Uncle Brian's low, sneering tone was in his ears again -- the voice he seemed to reserve especially for talking to his nephew. In company, Brian was always nice as pie, the perfect Gent. He was Mr. Smart-Casual epitomised, always neat and clean shaven, smelling good, his creases in the right places, white shirts immaculately pressed each morning by Aunt Iris or by Mum when her bitch of a sister had one of her migraines. A kiss on the cheek for his wife and his twin daughters, and even one for Skye before she ran out on them. A fond look for mum, but not too fond or Iris would go off on another one of her paranoid rants and finally, before he set off for the office, a warning look for Rayne.

Be good! Or else!

Or else, meant Brian's belt; six of the best across his bare arse and the backs of his legs for the slightest transgression.

And on Tuesdays, that look meant be home sharpish, because Tuesday was the day when Mum and Iris went out shopping then to the Bingo in the evening, up in town. His cousins, the insect twins, Ant and Nat went to an afterschool club and from there on to Brownies via a friend's house for tea. And Brian had the house to himself for a few hours, enough time to do whatever he liked to his young nephew on the marital bed upstairs in the front room.

Those Tuesday mornings were always chaos, the girls hunting for their Brownie uniforms, Mum and Iris trying to get ready for their shopping trip at the same time as getting everyone else up and dressed and ready for work and school. He felt like he could disappear on those busy mornings, just melting into the background, insignificant.

The afternoons were another matter. Rayne always wanted to drag his feet on the short walk back from school to his Aunt and Uncle's tidy semi on it's pretty, suburban cul-de-sac. He didn't because he knew that it would just get him a thrashing and that wouldn't save him from Brian's cock, in any case. Whether he got it slow enough not to hurt too much or fast and rough with his arse cheeks stinging like he'd swum with a shoal of jellyfish was up to him. Entirely his call!

Tuesday afternoons were always a memory of lazy sunlight outdoors, the curtains closed, the house creaking softly in the summer heat and the bedsprings creaking faster; more rhythmically. They were the distant, longed-for laughter of boys playing football in the park over the road and Brian's hot, rapid breath on his neck; the heat of that heavy, dark-furred body covering his slighter, smoother frame as he surged and thrust hard between Rayne's wide-spread legs.

He had learned to tune it out, to close his mind as his Uncle climbed onto the bed and pushed his M&S Y-fronts down to mid thigh. He could draw an invisible curtain across the memory of his uncle's red-tipped, rampant cock easing up out of those old-fashioned blue and white-piped underpants; his heavy balls swinging lazily in their loose, hairy sac. The sounds of Brian's laboured breathing as he slicked lube on his penis and fingered his nephew's tight arse roughly and the scents of fresh male sweat, briny pre-cum and the sharp, clinical stink of Vaseline; they were harder to wipe away.

Rayne could still smell the freshly laundered and pressed bed linen on his Aunt and Uncle's double bed to this day. He'd spent hours enough with his face pressed into the pillows as Brian took him fast and hard from behind. He knew every crack and shape and shadow of their bedroom ceiling intimately; the rise and fall of each distant aertex mountain on the surface of another, far off planet; every mote of dust on the art-deco light shade; every speck of fly shit on the clear Mazda bulb. One hundred and fifty watts, illuminating the deepest shadows, leaving nowhere to hide; glaring starkly off the rumpled ivory bath towel spread across the duvet under his back to save it from the indignity of tell-tale stains; glaring off his thin, bruised, milk-skinned, thirteen-year-old body, sprawled and splayed like an insect on a scientist's examining table. He felt that he was waiting; waiting for the pin to impale him and end his brief, tormented life.

Over and over he died on that creaking divan. Every memory got filed away for safekeeping in his head; locked up in separate compartments there, too dangerous to let them run free.

Rayne was still sobbing helplessly on his own familiar, comforting bed when the phone in the lounge began to bleat plaintively again, down in the lounge where he had abandoned it last night. His fingers itched with loathing. Rayne had no desire to ever touch the thing again.

But it might be Kevan, calling to see if he was all right, as he so often did when they spent a night apart. Quite what he thought might happen to his undead lover in the cocoon of his own, secure apartment, Rayne had never really understood.

He crawled off the bed, choking down his sobs for unnecessary breath and stumbled to the stairs. Halfway down, the cellphone predictably ceased its clarion call. Rayne debated going back to bed but knew the caller would only try again the minute he got settled. Especially if it was Kev.

He slouched down the remaining stairs and crossed the darkened lounge. There were no windows, not because he could not tolerate the light, it was just a design feature of a building that had once been a warehouse. Right now the only illumination came from the low-level back-lighting in his expensive, and barely used kitchen.

His phone display showed two missed calls, one with Tony's number attached, the other anonymous, serving as a reminder that he had just left his closely guarded privacy on a public mailbox for anyone with a password to access. He swore under his breath. And he had forgotten all about his tryst with Tony. There was no way he could face that, not today. He still felt soiled; unclean from the conversation last night.

He speed-dialled his voicemail box and Tony's warm, friendly scally tones temporarily mellowed him, making him feel less sordid with it's tender pleas to call him back ASAP. The other caller was predictably 'Daddy'; just a short message.

"Not got cold feet 'ave you, Raindrop? Get online, chicken. Tell us when and where. We'll do the rest. You know you want it."

He deleted the message then cursed again as he remembered it was evidence. The phone rang again and he almost dropped it but registered Tony's number and after a brief hesitation he picked it up.

"Hi, Tony... I'm so sorry..."

"Not blowin' me out, are you, princess?" the cheery voice on the other end of the line could not quite disguise the disappointment. "I've been really lookin' forward to seein' you again, Ray. You know I really fancy you, yeah?"

"I guess you must, you call me so much!" Rayne smiled weakly, running his free hand through his damp, tangled hair as he dropped onto the sofa, then pulling his knees up to his chest. "I had a really rough night, Tony. I'm not in the mood to go out."

"Can I come round then?" Tony persisted. "Aww... just for a bit. I just wanna see you, Ray. Even if all we do is have a quick kiss and a cuddle."

Rayne laughed softly at the thought of a chaste snuggle with Tony after some of the things the well-hung fire-fighter had done to him at Dave and Bern's the other night.

"You don't give up without a fight, do you?"

"Nope," Tony agreed more chirpily. "So how's about it then? Can I come over? I can be at yours in twenty minutes. Go on, be a devil!"

Rayne weighed the pros and cons. It was not like he was doing anything else. If Kev had been working all night he usually went straight back to his own place to get some sleep. There was no outstanding review work to be done. And having Tony hold him for a while would make him feel human again, even if it was for just an hour or so.

"Okay," he conceded only a little reluctantly, letting the last dark shadows loose their grip on him. "Just for a little while."

TO BE CONTINUED...

UNDERWEAR © SADIE ROSE BERMINGHAM 2010

END OF CHAPTER NINE

SadieRose
SadieRose
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
FINISH THE DAMN STORY

WTF. Where is our closure to the Rayne and Kev story? Amongst others...Its like you have edged us, and still havent let us finish for many years. And your website is defunct. Come on man, help your fans out.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
GIRL LISTEN

Hey sweetheart I'm a huge fan of your work. You are a fuckin genius woman. But hell I'd even pay for you to finish this story. Please honey finish this pleaseeeeeeee. Anywhere I can buy and download this story? Honey you need to start writing books

lonesomedove66lonesomedove66over 11 years ago
Second that motion

Hope all is well and I too would love to see this finished as I am missing my Rayne fix and dying to know what happens and where Kevan is....

AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
Great stuff!

Hey? Is this dead? I really do hope not! Love all your stories and want to read more please!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
more plz

hi hun havent heard from you in awhile please dust off your keyboard and finish this so i can draw you that smexy pic lol

i havent had a new rayne fix in a year i neeeeed one

plz write more

:) hope u r well and happy and the muse is well fed and ready to work

romanticfae

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Underwear Ch. 08 Previous Part
Underwear Series Info

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