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Champs party -- Oliver Frey

Alex laid bare

By Michael Williams

(with a few excerpts from his book Alex laid bare)

(Artwork by Go Hirano)

His mouth was on mine before I could finish the sentence. Moments late I lay on the bed and his fingers were preparing me for the penetration I now ached to experience. "This will hurt a bit at first," he warned me, his voice husky.

He was right. I was simply not ready for the searing agony of his first thrust, slow though it was. "No, get it out," I yelled. "No, get used to it," he said.

He rammed his cock inside me a few times more. The pain lessened just a little. He thrust again. A shiver of pleasure burst through the waves of residual agony. Now I really wanted him. I spammed my cheeks against his belly, felt him penetrate even deeper than before, felt myself open inside to receive is engorged prick, hard and unyielding.

"Fuck me, fuck me harder," I heard someone scream. In the mirror on the wall behind the bed I could see smooth, nicely-rounded buttocks rising and falling as a huge cock thrust violently downwards, disappearing from view before re-emerging, inch after inch, so much of it, before it hammered down once more. I was completely immersed in the experience, my body sensitized to every touch of his flesh against mine, my own cock stabbing the pillow beneath me, an unmistakable explosive heat rising in my balls, surging like a current through my groin, fusing with the sensation of energy imparted by those savage strokes that throbbed deep inside me.

"I'm coming," he cried, "I can't stop it, oh, oh, oh, yeah."

"Don't stop," I begged, as the sensation electrified my whole being, "don't stop, aah," as waves of sperm gushed from my cock in harmony with the thrusts from above. Our bodies continued their rhythmic pulsation for a minute or so longer before we stopped, both breathing hard, his lips pressed against the nape of my neck, my senses drowning in the glorious pressure of his body upon mine and the glorious sense of sexual release strangely enhance by the fulfillment of  his cock, still hard and alive deep inside. He rolled us over. We lay clamped together in his arms.

"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Very nicely, thank you." I giggled at the contrast between the vocabulary of the aftermath and that of the rampant lust that had immediately preceded it.
"Boy, you were just born to be fucked, you know," Alex confided, "and the good news is, I was born to fuck."

He led me back into the house, through an alcove screened by heavy fabric and towards a mattress in the corner.

He lay down, turned on his side and indicated that I should join him, encouraging me to lie flat on my back. Jojo crawled to the foot of the mattress and, looking right into my eyes, began to lick the sole of my right foot, then my left, then, individually, each of my toes. Slowly he advanced up my body, licking, nipping and sometimes biting my flesh, then with a long sweep up my thigh his tongue encountered my balls, slipped along the length of my cock and gently investigated the tip.

With a deep sight of satisfaction, he leant forward and swallowed me, I was on the point of exploding, but playfully, he withdrew his mouth from my throbbing member and returned to his slow exploration of my body. I had lost all track of time, my whole being focused on these profoundly absorbing sensations. Many minutes later his mouth finally reached mine. We kissed for the first time, long and excitedly. I tried to stroke his cock. He brushed my hand away and mumbled his favourite phrase. We continued kissing, his hands continued stroking, mine lay disenfranchised at my side. He tasted sweet and spicy and fresh and I remember wondering if his kisses could last forever, if we could freeze time and find ourselves trapped in a continuous repetition of this endless sensuality.

I felt him reach beside the bed. The kisses suddenly stopped. He knelt before me, his taut body silhouetted against the moonlight that now shed a soft glow through the small window high in the opposite wall. He bent across me and poured a liquid down my chest across my stomach. The fragrance was heavy and musky. I expected him to massage the oil into my body. Instead he simply lowered himself onto me, pressing every square inch of his flesh against mine.

He began to slide slowly up and down, then across, then back again, the feeling of skin against skin intensely electric. I felt as if my whole body had become super-sensitized, every nerve alert to the slightest touch, as if Jojo and I were merging into a single entity, our beings fused and inseparable.

He began to kiss me again, deep, sensuous kisses. I was desperate with desire. Lying full length on top of me, he rolled over onto his back and repeated the serpentine motion across my body. I felt him reach for my cock and, in a continuous movement, slid downwards, taking me inside him with a deep, long moan.

The, at last, we made love, and I knew I gave him pleasure, too. Our groans of delight as we both climaxed dissolved into giggles of sheer joy. Finally, we lay still, totally submerged in each other. No one had ever given himself to me so completely, so unselfishly, so sensually.


After a period of languid kisses a new surge of passion coursed through our veins. Still Jojo remained devoted to my pleasure, almost oblivious to his own longings. I felt a keen desire to match his unselfishness, to offer myself to him, give myself without inhibition. As we twisted and tumbled in our rising excitement, my wish to surrender all my defenses became a desperate urge. From Jojo I wanted that which, all my life, I had feared and resisted, the ultimate experience of submission. Gently I maneuvered him onto his back, straddled his groin, reached between his legs and stoked his balls already taut in anticipation. Of course he knew exactly what I intended.
"No, you are guest," he began again.
"But guest can choose," I countered, lowering myself onto his rigid cock. His eyes widened, his lips parted, his body quivered with delight. He had gone beyond the point of resistance.

The pain was excruciating, but wonderful. I wanted to suffer for him, bleed for him, die for him, if only I could make him recognize the momentous nature of his impact on my being. The discomfort eased. I moved upon him with a violence that seemed alien to my nature but essential to the moment.

"Please, please, yes, oh, yes," he yelled as he came inside me, lapsing into a torrent of words which had no meaning for me, stroking me until I too shot thick plumes of semen across the rippling muscles of his abdomen, again and again until I felt drained of life, self, and any sense of my past. I collapsed upon him, embraced him in his potency and buried my head in his neck to prevent his seeing my tears. He lifted my face to his, drew a finger across his eyelid, captured a drop of his own moisture and pressed it into my lips. "So, you do everything for me," he whispered.

We lay immobile, lost in our own thoughts, each apparently fulfilled by this latest consummation, mine a new sense of exposure, rendered almost shocking by the security I felt as I lay contented in Jojo's embrace.

The rapture waxed and waned through the long night, with the dawn and into the morning. I lost count of the number of times we made love. At different moments I felt deeply secure in his arms, at others deeply protective of this beautiful exotic boy who only wanted to please me and, at others again, deeply moved by the sensual abandon in which he revealed his own satisfaction. It was as if I found myself bathed in a light that cast no shadow. The encounter was masculine in its intensity, in the strength with which we clasped each other tight, the urgency with which we penetrated and exploded, but also feminine in the gentleness of the later caresses, the whispered endearments. At some point I slept and wished the sleep to last forever.


The words were barely out of Alex's mouth before Adam had flung his arms around Alex's neck, pressed his lips to Alex's lips, forced Alex's teeth apart and slipped his tongue deep into Alex's throat. They never reached the living room, they never settled down for the normal preliminaries, the bout of discourse that usually confirms mutual enthusiasm for the carnal activity expected but not yet promised. Instead, they scrambled straight to the bedroom, stripped each other naked, fell giggling onto the bed, tumbled around joyously for a couple of minutes, kissing, licking and stroking any available inch flesh, all of the sexual athletics accompanied by grunts of satisfaction, sights of pleasure and an ever more urgent need for a critical question.

"What would you like to do?" Alex asked, his tongue sliding up the crack in Adam's arse.
"Anything, don't mind." came the muffled response from Adam's head, currently buried in the pillow.
"I'd love to fuck you," Alex suggested hopefully.
"OK, but I come very quick."

Alex was in no meed to be deterred. He reached for the lubricant and condom conveniently located under the bedside table. His finger slid into the tight bud of Adam's anus. The boy's buttocks began a circular motion, the moans of appreciation increasing in frequency.

"Quick, fuck me quick," Adam cried. Alex eased his fingers from the boy's warm, welcoming orifice and slid his raging hard cock inside.
"Oh, oh, I come, I come," yelled Adam.

True to his prediction, Alex felt Adam's rhythmic contractions squeeze his prick as he in turn thrust harder, deeper and more furiously until he too discharged his load, riding the ripples of pleasure, nuzzling the back of his lovers neck and offering the usual vote of thanks to his deity.

"Very sorry, late for appointment, please excuse me."

He arched his back, forcing Alex's cock out of his arsehole. The still-attached condom flopped heavily onto the duvet. Alex pulled the cover over the evidence of their lust and listened to the splash of water in the shower. It seemed that no more than a minute had elapsed when Adam leant over to kiss him, fully clothed, his hair slicked back and his backpack in his hand.

"Very nice, Alex, Thank you. Can I come again?"


The early November day dawned sunny and exceptionally warm. Arriving around midday, Alex offered lunch in the garden. Adam reciprocated by stepping out of his clothes, his erection vertical against his stomach, and demanding that Alex warm him up. Alex flung a couples of mattresses on the lawn and peeled off his shirt and jeans. The air was cool but the sun still shed enough heat to keep the goose flesh at bay. He joined Adam on the mattress.

"Please fuck me, Alex, fuck me very hard. I've been a naughty boy for you. Now you make me good boy, isn't it?"

The whispered invitation inspired Alex's cock to a state of pulsating hardness. He only had spittle to lubricate Adam's snug little anus. The boy moaned appreciatively.
"Got to get a condom." Alex answered.
"Don't bother," Adam said. "You're the only guy ever fucked me."

This revelation forced Alex's erection to an almost unbearable rigidity. He spat on his hand, lubricated his cock and pushed it smoothly inside The Adam. The absence of the condom made the act of entering the boy somehow more sensual, made the feeling of Adam's flesh, soft as velvet, stroking and constricting the throbbing end of his cock, wildly exciting. Alex almost came immediately, but froze in midstroke while the surging sensation subsided. Adam raised his arse, forcing Ales's cock deeper and deeper. Alex groaned with pleasure as twenty thousand volts washed through his body. A mutual rhythm developed, their bodies united in the same soaring rapture; neither could delay the climax as irredeemable pulses of energy overtook any attempt to prolong the lust, Alex shooting again and again deep inside Adam, and the youth cascading his cum across the mattress underneath. Alex collapsed onto Adam's back and lay still, panting, feeling the breeze chill his shoulders, damp with perspiration.
"That was special." Alex said, eventually.
"I think I just melted." Adam said.

Michael Williams
Michael Williams runs an international marketing consultancy.