y:
It seemed only yesterday that I had said goodbye to my wife and two daughters, and boarded the plane that would finally arrive on the small island of Singapore, here, where I was now. "Land of the traders" I would have jokingly called it, since it was recognized as an important trading center in its recorded history. I landed and booked a room in a hotel (I forgot the name, since it has been about 10 months). I haddone some surfing on the net, and finally found a decent looking condominium, known as Parc Oasis, somewhere at the west edge of the island, in an industrial area known as Jurong, which had a reputation of being the place in Singapore that was most often struck by lightning than the other areas, mainly because it was higher above sea level than the rest of the island. I had a mild interest in witnessing fork lightning strike the ground and I decided that I would go and have a look at the place there since I knew that was little risk of being struck by lightning anyway. And all the bullshit about ghosts haunting the area didn't put me off either. There seemed to be ghost tales all over the island anyway, stuff about bomohs (some kind of male witch), ghosts in the form of beautiful Malay women who killed men but would first rip out a their genitals (Ouch! That was the only one that actually made me wince.), and people said that since Jurong was the place with the highest death toll during World-War II, they could see (or at least hear) ghostly Japanese troops marching about and shrieking victims who had long died. What the hell...
I got a nice place in one of the blocks and it would have been perfect if not for the high level. Level 20! I was scared stiff of heights but it was the only one available, the rental from the landlord (I have no idea why he had bought the place if he wasn't going to live in it. He lived in the apartment that was just next to mine.) was quite reasonable. The height was made up for by that, the fact that it overlooked the Chinese Garden which was opposite, with its shimmering lake, and the subway (MRT: Mass Rapid Transit) was easily accessible in a five-minute walk. The Mayfair, which I learnt was completed less than a year before my arrival, was also nearby, and there was an patrol station right next to it, which would have been wonderful if I had my car with me.
These thoughts run through my head as I lay by the swimming pool, soaking the ray of the sun in this country of eternal summer. I thought about my family back in Canada, what they were doing at the moment without me. They had sent me e-mail which I received on my laptop, and as far as I could see, they were doing fine without me. It would be winter for them by now. About 3:40pm, I realized, looking at my watch. It was still very bright, and it only started to get dark at about seven. I decided to try and drift of to sleep again, but was interrupted by some Japanese toddlers running past me, shouting and squealing in delight and squeezing water out of some watergun they were holding threateningly at each other. The place was also popular with Japanese, besides a few locals and Caucasians like me. Since the factories were nearby, and this place was rather decent, I guess it was a good reason why. Realizing that now I would be getting little peace, I decided to get up and hide under one of the umbrella tables to read the paper. There was a barbecue nearby, apparently the people involved were locals, since they had pleasant melodic accent, and a few 'lahs' and all those extra phrases that they liked to add in to their conversation, which, honestly, was pretty cute. There were also a few phrases being used that were obviously curses in the Hokkien dialect and Malay language, but I understood none of it.
Then, having finished off the paper, decided to get dressed and go back up to my apartment for a quick shower, after which I would go down to the larger of two playgrounds that I discovered in the area for a quick walk around it and the tennis court, the serenity of the tropical vegetation of that particular never failing to entice me. If I was lucky, I might even catch a glimpse of my little angel, who remained, at the moment, oblivious to my observing him. He was not the only teenage boy whom I fantasized about in the area, but he seemed to appear more often compared to the rest (or maybe it's just because I notice him more easily). He often came down to play badminton with this brat whom I assumed was his brother at around this time. But if I was going to have any chance of getting this rare treat, I would have to hurry, and even then he might not be there, since he didn't seem to have a fixed routine. Just thinking about him made me aroused and I fantasized about him as I wanked myself off in the bath. Gripping my hard, uncircumcised cock in my hand, I stroked it slowly for awhile, then sped up a little, eventually pounding it somewhat furiously as I imagined I was fucking the boy's ass (although I knew that that was never going to happen in such a strict anti-gay place as this), his face straining with pain and pleasure, hit tight hole being entered by me... Just as my imagination decided to switch to another one of the boys I fantasized about, I touched my tip with my thumb once and that was enough to make me orgasm. I came with a loud moan and my jizz hit the wall in front of me. I almost slipped and fell in my thrusting into the empty air in front of me.
I walked down the small side pavement that lead to the playground, a car driving past me slowly to make a turn in. My small shower had been in vain, and already I was beginning to sweat. But I pressed on in the hope of seeing the kid. When I arrived, he was not there. I looked around carefully, since he and his partner sometimes played in a different part of the playground, while being obscured by the metal slide and the other structures mounted there meant for the fun of active children, due to the wind, I supposed. I made a full circle around the place, but he wasn't there, and neither was his brother. There were only little flocks of children of many races, most under the supervision of an adult, playing in the area, digging holes in the sand (this was one of the few playgrounds in Singapore left which had sand). I was slightly disappointed. I was about to turn and walk about the area when some funny feeling persuaded me to stay. Soon enough, I caught sight of the little brat who always accompanied the boy in playing badminton. He was saying something rapidly and was laughing his head off. He had a natural curl in his hair and looked around 13, with little common appearances with his brother, if it was his brother, who was just behind him, my little idol. He had the average height of a fourteen-year old Asian boy (which is a quite tiny). With straight hair that was cut in something that remotely suggested a bowl hair cut, though it wasn't, and his hair was black until the sunlight hit it, than it became a pleasant brown that reminded me a bit of chocolate, and looked like it had been styled a bit by the wind itself. A slight acne problem, but he was otherwise perfect for an Asian. He looked cute but a bit effeminate, and he acted that way as well, with fluid movements like the cats I sometimes saw him spending time with. He also had pretty fair skin in some parts of his body, that was unusual for Asians. He trotted up behind his brother, looking down, his eyes always in shadow, giving him a very mysterious aura. I sat myself down on the piece of concrete that was meant as a bench and watched them begin playing. My little boy always had weights attached to his wrists and legs. I did not know why, because he looked pretty thin. But they did not block out the fact that he was wearing a blue watch and a bracelet on his left hand, two rings on his right index finger, one made of gold, and two necklaces. The kid had a thing for jewelry. He was wearing something special today. Instead of his usual white jockey-type shirt and a pair of carotene shorts, he had on a blue sleeveless shirt and an indigo pair of short that were meant for those athletes (you know, with the upside-down V opening at each side), and it was so skimpy that I could see a bulge in it at his crotch since it had been pulled all the way up. Heck, I knew that his cock couldn't be erect. It was definitely flaccid at that time. The extra view of his inner thigh made me stare and I began to drool. I had seen him wear other pairs a couple of times, the pool and all that, but they were always larger pairs that didn't reveal much. When he turned his back on me, my cock, that was already rock-hard, gave a little jump in my jeans. The shorts barely covered his buttocks! All I had to do was pull it up a little and I would be seeing a bit of his ass. Of course I didn't do that, but it just occurred to me. I watched the game progress, him facing my side. He had an amazing reaction timing that blew me away with the shuttle. He jumped up onto the opposite concrete bench with little difficulty despite the weights to get to the shuttle, which had fallen out of his reach when his brat brother had shot it too high and too far. Jumping off, he kneeled down to pick up the plastic object (I noted that he and his brother didn't used feathered ones), before using his hand to toss it in his brother's direction. The thing was so easy to hit, and the little troublemaker missed. The little sweetling, upon seeing his brother's mishap, covered his eyes with his right hand in an expression of exasperation. The two boys contrasted sharply in personality. My little one was cool and calm, able to concentrate and hit each shot more or less with some style and grace. The brother was a fiery individual who looked like he had enough energy to supply the entire city. Or at least this small town.
After awhile, he did the one thing that usually sent me rushing to the nearby public toilet to wack off. He was wearing a sort of waistpouch, only that it was those large kind that was meant to be worn so that the bag was behind you (I think it's called a bumbag or something), and he pulled at the belt without actually taking it off, he began to hastily pull his shorts back up, since they were, as always, threatening to fall off while the bag pulled them down slowly. I sometimes got a view of his underwear if I looked closely enough (men here usually only wear briefs for underclothes). This time, I didn't. And they left after awhile. I noticed the time was 6:00pm. It was time for me to prepare to meet my colleges at a dinner.
When I had returned to the condo, I undressed completely and walked to my room window with a pair of binoculars. I knew that the modest Asians would not like to see me in the buff, but I knew that the window would show nothing below my waist and I was quite safe because of that. It was about 1:00am, and I was letting my eyes wonder around the opposite block, where my little idol lived. I peered at his apartment, into his room, through the binoculars, and I noticed a candleflame. 'Weird.' I thought. I saw candles occasionally burning in that apartment, but I never knew why. The rest of the lights in the room came on, and I noticed my little angel was still wide awake, which wasn't unusual during the November and December vacations, since he could remain awake until 4:00am sometimes. He was wearing a lilac pair of those 'athlete's pants'. I had seen that pair before. I loved spying on him, and this reminded me of the first time I came really close to him. I had to meet a business partner in the same building as his, and on the way down, the lift stopped on the 17th floor. In he walked, with an accompanying swish of cold air, and didn't press the 'close' button. He just let the lift close by itself. He looked really sexy in that blue shirt of some generic brand and the pair of pants he was wearing. He didn't look up at me, and when he lifted his head, he suddenly made eye contact with me. I felt like I had landed in Antartica for a split second the very moment I looked into his brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, then he looked down quickly. He wore lots of jewelry for some reason, and although I am no expert in minerals, but the gems that were on each accessory looked quite positively genuine to me. When we reached the ground floor, he got out without a word. I was happily looking at his butt as he did a positively female catwalk and turned into the area that had all the mailboxes. I decided it was best for me to walk straight on. I noticed he gave all strangers a cold look, assuming he looked at them at all. But his eyes were quite haunting. They always looked so sad, so deep and hollow, and seemed to be secretly crying out to me.
When I watch him, I notice he would get on the bed do some luxurious stretching that was very similar to a cat. I wanted to be able to see him jack off, but alas, he never did it as far as I could see. His walls looked a bit off-white, and slightly dirty, like it had been renovated but not painted over, and there were no posters or anything of the sort, so it was pretty featureless. Sometimes, though rarely, he looked like he was meditating. At others, he used the computer, but there was little sign that he was at all sexually active. And people constantly walked in and out, so I guess I would never see the parts of his body which I had wanted so badly to see. This time, however, he went right to the window, blew off the candle, and looked outside for a long time. I finally realized that he was staring straight at me! I noticed through the binoculars, that his eyes were wide open, but they didn't look angry. Nevertheless, they seemed to pierce into me. I freaked out quickly retreated back into the room, and satisfied myself in just fantasizing and masturbation.
It must have been my lucky day, on the day that soon followed. I was walking around the pool. He was apparently returning from some outing. He had a heavy looking bag, was wearing a pair of black cargo pants, white socks, black sneakers and a lilac shirt of another generic brand (he only wore cold colors). A crystal pendant hung out from the shirt. He was walking with a blue umbrella, tapping the ground as he went, making him look like a little gentleman my eyes. I accidentally dropped my magazine just as I walked past him (butterfingers), and he bent down and scooped it up from the floor with one graceful swipe. He handed it to me. "Thank you." I said, grinning. He looked down the ground for awhile, and when he looked at me, I noticed he was blushing as he smiled sheepishly. "You're welcome." He replied, the pleasant local accent quite apparent. The sun had risen in the Antartica of his eyes and the ice was beginning to melt a bit. I invited him to sit with me. He accepted, and sat it a posture that had him fold himself up humbly, his legs clasped together. "I noticed you around here for awhile. What's your name?" I asked him. He replied with 'Ozy' and a whole bunch of Chinese words after that which I found impossible to remember. We chatted for awhile, and I found out a couple of things about him (I won't bother to go into those details), and his age, which was fifteen (he looked much younger). His English was quite good. I had seen him talking with others. He didn't nearly use those extra phrases after each sentence as often as the other locals whom I have met. He could also adjust his voice from his usual relatively low voice to a bit of a high pitch. He also had unusual hobbies, one of which was jewelry, and he knew alot about metaphysical properties of minerals, playfully, I asked if he was a witch. He said no, but he was part of a small unofficial group in his school where he knew about crystals, one student knew potions, and it went on for awhile. He didn't talk much, unless I asked him something, and he didn't ask me anything, though I did tell him I was on a business trip and would be staying here for at least another year (though he hadn't asked). Pretty soon, he said he had to leave, and walked off after saying a quick 'goodbye'.
I sat back in the satisfaction of having broken some of the ice. We still had a long way to go if I was going to try and get to know him better. I still had one full year to stay in Singapore, so I thought it was pretty ok. I had observed something peculiar about him. He seemed to twitch spontaneously when I was talking to him, and sometimes when I spied on him and he was completely still. The soft tapping of the umbrella faded away gradually as he walked off. We became pretty good friends after that. But I still stuck to my fantasies, hoping against hope that I would one day be able to make love to him for real.
A few weeks later, I saw Ozy shuffling across the bridge that ran over the pool. He was wearing a green version of his blue sleeveless shirt and the same indigo athlete's pants that barely covered his butt. I grinned inwardly and went to meet him. He waved shyly in my direction, mumbling a soft "Hi, uncle Carl.". I had gotten used to him calling me that, since he had once told me it was customary in his family and he often practiced it outside. His left knee suddenly gave away and he fell forward with a gasp. I panicked, but as luck would have it, he fell right into my arms. My hands wrapped around his small body, his legs around my waist, his face brushing against mine. His skin was cold, almost as if he was dead. My right hand accidentally found itself clasped around his right asscheek. The other cheek was supported by my right forearm. They felt really soft yet firm, and extremely sexy. I got a hard-on instantaneously, and it was a good thing that few people were around, and none of them seemed to notice. I had lifted him completely off the ground, and I was surprised that he was quite light. Even though he was a bit skinny, since he seemed relatively fleshy at other parts. After what seemed like an eternity, which was really seven seconds, I put him down, and his face was burning red (which made him look quite cute). "Sorry. I don't know what happened...my knee just gave way." He admitted. "It's ok. Are you alright?" I replied. He nodded. "Would you like to come over to my place for a drink?" I asked. He looked at me, silent, unmoving, for a good long five seconds, with a very innocent look in his eyes. It reminded me of one of those Japanese anime characters who sometimes had a long period of silence in-between responses. "Well?" I prompted. "..Um, ok. My parents won't be expecting me back soon." He agreed. I could hardly believe my luck. I then led him to my apartment, which was air-conditioned round the clock.
Ozy sat, silent, on the sofa, legs pressed together, holding his cup with both hands. He had strange taste. He had asked me for jasmine-brewed green tea, and finding out that I didn't have any, he had settled with some syrup. He seemed unwilling to try a soft drink, saying it was irritating to his throat. His cup had been half filled with ice, the other half with syrup. He had drunk most of the fluid, much to my horror, chewed effortlessly on some ice cubes. I noticed that his canine teeth were quite a bit larger than the normal person's. "You like the ice cubes?" I asked. "Yes. They are hard and crushing them is very satisfying." he looked at my bookshelf. "What is that thing up on the bookshelf?" he asked, and I looked up at it and noticed that he was talking about the tennis ball that had gotten stuck up there the previous week. "Oh, that's the tennis ball I was playing around with and it flew up and got stuck there. It's too high for me to reach, and I suck at jumping." I answered. "I'll get it." he said, and in one impossibly high jump, he had swiped it off the top and landed neatly on the ground. "That was amazing!" I exclaimed. "What? I just got back your ball." He said. There was no emphasis on any of the words, but on hearing 'ball', I felt my dick stirring. I decided to return to the sofa and talk to him about something else before I got hard enough for him to notice.
After sitting there for a long time, I said that I had to go to the loo. He asked if it was okay if he explored around a bit. I said "Alright, make yourself at home." and did my business. When I came out, he was walking out of my room, his face flushed red once again. He looked down at the floor, a sheepish smile on his face. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I was in your room, and, and...um..." He giggled and flushed again. I pushed past him, but didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary...until I noticed my walls still had those pics and posters of naked guys of all types still stuck on. Guys posing, some in various sex acts. I hadn't removed them, and I had forgotten to tell him not to enter that particular room. I was speechless. "Um, why are those things there?" he asked, with a curious look on his face. "Well, I like them. Guys turn me on, so I stick pictures all over the place of them. It keeps me 'up', if you catch my drift." I admitted. "Look, don't tell anyone, okay?" I hastily requested. I didn't think he would go round spreading the news, since he didn't look like that sort of person. But I still wanted to be reassured. If the news ever got out, I was cooked. "Worry not. I won't open my mouth." He reassured. Then he added: "Are you gay?" "Well, no." I replied. "I'm bisexual. Meaning I like both men and women. I have a wife and two daughters at home." "I see." He said, his face flushing red again. Suddenly, he looked up at me. "Is that why I'm here? You invited me here because you liked me? That must be why I always see you spying on me when I'm standing at the pool, playing badminton or even in my room." he said. "Well, yeah. You're a cute kid. I've fantasized about you quite often." I admitted. My face was hot and I knew I was blushing at how quickly this kid caught on and that he wasn't as ignorant as I thought. "I see." He mumbled, blushing somemore. He glided back into the bedroom, and I looked questioningly at him. He sat down on the bed. "I kinda' like you too." He admitted. "You do?" I squeaked. My throat was tightening up with tension and excitement. "Yeah. I'm also flattered to hear that you like me. I myself would like a strong, hairy guy to be my top also." he teased. "You're gay?" I asked. "Well, no. I was pretty asexual...until you came in. Of course, I might still like a girlfriend, but for now..." He hugged me. He felt so cold, but I still melted in his arms as I hugged him back. "You want me, don't you?" He asked, releasing me. It was a question of innocent curiosity. As far as I could see, he wasn't trying to seduce me. "Yes, I do, but you don't need to do this if you don't want to." I assured. "No, it's not that." he said. I sat down next to him, feeling his bare, cooling, smooth thigh. He giggled. "The law is not going to allow us to have sex." I said, then added as an afterthought, "But I like doing forbidden things. It's more fun that way." Ozy giggled somemore. He seemed much more open now. "Well, I suppose we could." He offered, then added, "I'm obviously still a virgin, if it pleases you to know that you will be the first to take me." I grinned. If I eventually got round to having sex with him, I would be the first to conquer him, and that would be a great victory compared to the others who would come after me. I wanted to be the one to take his virginity, but, I told myself, not without the child's consent. "Ok, look, I only do 'it' with people on two conditions, and it applies to both guys and girls." He offered. I was confused. Was he going to ask for...a gift? Money? I had no idea, but I decided that if it was some material object, I could only hope I could afford it: I wanted him so badly, and I didn't care if the authorities executed me for trying to make love to this boy, provided he did it with me willingly. "Well, first, you don't have AIDS, do you?." he mumbled, caressing my face gently as I held his waist where it was exposed by the sleeveless. That was rather blunt and slightly insensitive a comment, but I was not offended since I did not have AIDS, and I knew little Ozy was just worried about his own safety. "You don't need to worry about that. I'm clean." I replied. My AIDS test had come out negative. "Ok. Now, the second rule is that the person must truly love me, as I love him or her back. I hate loveless sex." He said. I felt relieved. I also shunned sex that had nothing to do with love. I had done it with my wife, and I knew I loved her, and with those guys I had gay sex with, I knew had had crushes on them, and had fallen desperately in love with them too. And I also loved this little oriental lad, who had now shifted to sitting on my lap. "I love you." I said, my chest about to burst. I strengthened my hold on him so tight I sincerely hope I didn't hurt him, squeezing so hard. He laughed, his voice sounding like little bells, his body beginning to warm up a little. I could feel his semi-hard cock pressing against my belly. I began to cry a little, and he licked away my tears. "I love you too." he said. I tried to kiss him, but he was a bit inexperienced, and he pulled away. I decided that I would also, besides teaching him lovemaking, have to teach him how to kiss. Telling him to just try and observe, I kissed him, and slid my tongue in. He got the hang of it pretty fast, and soon we were kissing as if we had done it all our lives. I soon got him off me so that I could go and pull the curtains shut.
When I turned back, he was topless, his green sleeveless tossed folded neatly in a corner, his small brownish-pink nipples standing out against his skin that had many various shades. Some parts of his skin was golden-brown, around his shins and elbow, while other parts were much lighter, he was almost pale, but all the different shades all blended well together, very appealing. He had the usual vaccination scar on his left upper-arm. I grinned as he sat on the bed, looking very sexy, erotic and innocent at the same time. He was watching me, expressionless, as his bracelet rattled down his left arm and came to rest, then he lay down. I was driven mad by my lust and desire for this boy. I hurriedly removed my white polo shirt and revealed my thick flesh, hairy and very bear-like. He smiled seductively, and when I descended down onto him, he pulled himself up to a sitting position once again, and he scratched under my chin, around my close-shaven beard. I chuckled and kissed his cheek, then began to kiss down his small, frail and delicate body, and noticed that he was rather hairless for his age. Was he extra slow to puberty or what? When I reached his nipples, he squeaked when I nibbled on each one 'till they grew firm and erect. He giggled when I tickled his stomach. I smiled at the reaction, and started to pull down his skimpy pants, catching his underwear along the way. The skin around there was not dramatically lighter as one would have expected, but it seemed to be almost the same color as the areas around. He blushed when his hard penis sprang up, beautiful and uncircumcised. His testicles were tight and he had only a few strands of pubic hair. I made him lie back down on the bed, as I went down and stroked his testicles. I tickled them as well, but I didn't get any reaction from him. I licked them, and I could see his eyes closed in his bliss. I decided to go a little further. I slowly lapped my way up his small shaft, and he started squirming a bit, but not much. I finally reached the head, and licked around it, teasing with my tongue. He sighed when my tongue touched the tip, where his skin was red, and when I touched his piss slit. I slowly took the head in my mouth, sucking a bit, just to build up heat. I could see his cheeks, just below his eyes, pinkish, not from embarrassment, but from his being in heat. I took the rest of his Chinese virgin cock in my mouth with not much effort on my part. I began to suck him, but gently so that it would last longer. He tasted wonderful, and the pre-cum was so sweet that for awhile I had a freak thought that he might be diabetic or something. He began to thrust a little, and I knew it wouldn't be long. I began sucking harder, and he was squealing, while grabbing my head and thrusting upwards to fuck my mouth with his lovely teen cock. I held on to his sexy ass while he sighed in his pleasure. With a gasp, he came, and after his cock swelled a little, cum sweet as the highest quality honey shot in with such force and volume that I wondered if he ever masturbated on his own. One of my fingers traced the tight little ring that was nestled between his ass cheeks. It felt really tight. I soon moved it out, and after about seven spasms, I let go and he collapsed onto the bed.
Ozy lay exhausted on my bed, smiling weakly. "Thanks." he breathed in between small, feeble gasps. "My pleasure." I said, and I kissed him, letting him taste some of his sweet cum that he had emptied into my mouth. "You cum is real sweet. Do you take lots of candy or something?" I asked. He giggled and blushed. He closed his eyes as he answered, "No. I can't stand too many sweet things, actually." I decided to leave it at that and he sat up and rested his head on my chest, inhaling my sweaty scent. Then he noticed the small hill in my jeans, and pointed at it. I grinned evilly, letting my jeans and shorts drop to the floor, exposing my ten-and-a-half inch weapon which stood out from a dense forest of hair. His eyes bulged and I saw fear and apprehension. I eased him by giving him a small massage on his shoulders while facing him. He soon eased up the tension and began smiling. He finally gathered enough courage to try sucking on my cock. He lay back down on my instruction, and I got on top of him and fucked his mouth with my mammoth tool, slowly, but without losing any pleasure. He took it about halfway into his tiny mouth, and gagged. I pulled out, and asked him if he was okay. He coughed, and I laughed heartily. Then I looked down to see him pouting at me. I felt bad for laughing at him since he was still new at this, and since he was a tiny Asian, I guess I should have expected it. "Sorry." I said. He smiled and hugged me. He began to suckle on me again, and this time I was amazed as he took almost all of my cock, except for a small part that was too little to make any difference. It was quite amazing for such a small mouth to be able to take such a huge cock. Huge to him, at least. Like a pro, he began swirling his tongue around my dick, bobbing up and down on it, and I almost died of bliss. I came for all I was worth, and he swallowed quite a bit, the remnants leaking out a bit and dribbling down to his chin. I got off, and watched him as he held his hands at mouth level and licked all the nearby cum off his face. He wiped the rest off with his forearm. "You were great, Ozy. Love ya' sooo much." I whispered in his ear. He giggled and suggested he call his parents and said he would be staying over for the night. I jumped with excitement at the idea. Soon, he had dialed the number. His unsuspecting parents agreed and he put down the phone after saying "Bye, I love you too!"
Giggling, he returned to my side on the bed, and suddenly my cock got hard again. He looked at me. "Wow. Already? What does it want this time." he asked. I jumped at the opportunity. "I want your ass." I answered without hesitation. He stared at me, then giggled and said, "Okay!" I went of to get a bottle of Vaseline. When I returned, he was sitting, as good as gold, on the bed. I made him lie on his back and raised his legs up, giving me a clear view of his little pink pucker. He suddenly sat up again, before I had done anything, looking scared out of his wits. "It's not going to hurt, is it?" he demanded. "Well, only at first, but if you make it through, the rewards are great." I replied truthfully. "Um...well..." he said, uncertain. "I promise to stop if it hurts too much and you want me to." I said. But he had already made up his mind. "No, no. Don't stop. Don't worry about me. Go ahead." He answered, trying to smile, but it was one of those plastic smiles and I could see he was visibly scared. I gave him a small massage and it worked him into a relaxed, fully submissive and receptive state before my superior sexual power. I grinned with lust as I lubed his ass. As my finger invaded his ass (he winced a bit, then relaxed as he got used to it), it was so tight that if not or the lube, I think it would have been stuck inside. I brushed against his prostate, and he jerked with a squeal of pleasure. I gave a short explanation of his prostate, and he accepted, falling back into his submissive state. His little penis was already hardening a bit again. I applied alot to both his anus and my cock, so as to ensure that pain was minimal. "You ready?" I asked, spreading his legs apart and raising them. I got a blank stare in response, but he nodded. I instructed him to try and push and open his anal muscles so that it was easier for me and him. Being the little treasure his was, he did as he was told, but his ass was still tight as anything. I managed the first few inches of my rock hard cock into him. I heard him gasping in between short, quiet, but painful, "aahhh..."s, and I observed him opening and closing his hands, sweat pouring as he fidgeted in despair. I stopped and gave him time to adjust. "Painful, painful." He was saying through gritted teeth, his chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat forming. "I take that as a compliment." I joked, looking down at him. "Don't gloat over your conquering me." He grumbled, and giggled, but his little chuckle was cut short when I attempted to force the rest of myself in again, and he started wincing again. I eventually managed the rest of myself in and as my balls collided with his asscheeks, I knew I had just conquered my little lover. As I slowly thrusted in and out, he relaxed more and more, and his ass had loosened a little, but was still very tight, adding to the pleasurable sensation a hundred fold. I slowly sped up bit by bit. I was glad I had come earlier so now I wouldn't have an orgasm too soon, though his ass felt really hot. Ozy had relaxed completely, and looked up at his conqueror (namely me) as I pleasured him, his legs wrapped around my waist. I began thrusting faster still, though still quite slowly. Ozy just laid back and enjoyed my giving him the ride of his life. "Oh, Ozy, you are so tight and feel so good. I have never felt such a tight boy-pussy before. I love you so much...I want to make love to you forever." I whispered in his ear when I bent forward. "I love you too. I'm yours for the taking whenever you want." He replied. I took the latter sentence as the signal for me to do as I pleased. I started pounding him harder and harder into his love chute, panting and moaning as I did. The sheets were crumpling up as each hard, forceful thrust I gave him sent him forward. His squealing and sighing told me that he was getting the pounding of a lifetime. He was giving loud sighs as the monster that was my prick shoved itself in and out of his rectum, though he, like earlier, never gave any moaning sounds. I gave a final thrust, moaning as my sperm gushed his hot teenage ass. He cried as I did this, but I soon realized they were tears of joy. I kissed him, but I continued pumping my still-hard rod in and out of his hole, which was still unbelievably tight despite having been abused by me only a second ago. Ozy looked at me in disbelief as I continued to fuck him. I believed that I could cum one more time, and even if I didn't, I wanted to be able to bring him to an orgasm. His small prick was all the while rubbing against my chest, in a small spot that had been wet and made slippery by his own precum, but he still had yet to orgasm, and I felt bad that he was suffering from the torture of still not having come while I just enjoyed my pumping his tight hole. I was going to try and make him do so without giving any more stimulation to his penis than the rubbing he was already experiencing.