Key to my crotch --- a short story

By Anonymous.a 


This story starts with a key, as the title suggests. Duh.

For some reason their was a shed in the back yard of my place---not one of those flimsy aluminum things you see at every Lowe’s or Home Depot but an honest to God stick-built structure with a lockable door, shingled roof and even a window. If this were New York City I could rent the thing out for a thousand a month.

It occurred to me one day that if I lost the key, which I was currently searching for in a drawer cluttered with batteries, sewing kits and matchbooks, I would be up the proverbial creek without a paddle. It was the only copy. I would have to call a locksmith, which would set me back a hundred or so dollars. Wouldn’t it be smarter to have a backup key made while the key was still at hand?

Eventually I found it and decided yes, I need to have a spare copy made right now.


Aaaand, it didn't work

I headed out to the Lowe’s across town, where a girl eyed the key, looked over the jillions of blanks on her revolving key stand until she settled on one and inserted it into the cutting machine. A brief episode of fingernail-on-chalkboard screeching took place, and the girl handed me the new spare. It cost $3.

Aaaaand, it didn’t work.

I swore at myself. The big boxes were great for selling mass-produced shit for cheap, but when it came to something like cutting a key they sucked to high heaven. How many times had I gone to Lowe’s or Home Depot for a key, only to have the damn thing not fit the lock when I got home? (Twice, perhaps, but still.)


Little did I know

I took it back to Lowe’s and got a refund – hey, $3 is $3. I would have to try a real locksmith, but before that I’d take one more gamble and try my luck at Home Depot. Who knows? Maybe I’d get lucky.

Little did I know.

As luck would have it, Home Depot is on the other side of town, but it’s near another store I wanted to visit, so I didn’t mind the drive. The key kiosk was halfway down the row of aisles, right up front. Problem was, nobody was there. I wandered around wearing my “I’m lost and need help” face, when this kid materialized, an odd-looking boy of sixteen or seventeen, about 5-11, maybe 150 pounds, with thin blonde hair on an oversized skull. When I say “odd” I don’t mean “unattractive”; he was fairly cute, just in a different way. The disproportionate size of his skull that gave him a strange, child-like aspect.


He was cute

“Watcha need?” he asked. His voice was deep and masculine, which further added to the weirdness. It was as if somebody had grafted a boy’s head onto a man’s body. I gave a quick glance down below. He had a fine, muscular ass hiding beneath those blue jeans, and the hint of something in his crotch. I wondered if that too would be disproportionately large.


The hint of something in his crotch

I told him my tale of woe; he said, “Gotcha” and beckoned me to follow him. We went around the corner and held up at a strange machine I’d never seen before. Apparently, you insert the key to be copied into a slot, and a computer exams it and picks out the perfect blank. Then, you insert the blank into an adjoining slot and the machine cuts it.


I made a point of extending the contact

I gave him my key. When I pressed it into his hand, I made a point of extending the contact. His skin was soft, almost silky, and dry. A lot of men’s hands are sticky, as if they’d just been shafting their cocks. But not Bighead Boy. Yet another bit of weirdness.


That struck a chord

The machine immediately identified a blank and the kid fetched it from a rack. While the machine cut it, I made a joke about the sound reminding me of a cavity being filled. That struck a chord, the kid sharing how he hates having cavities, and the sound of the drill on his teeth, the vibration traveling from the bone into his skull, and if it weren’t for the Novocain, how bad would that hurt?

The machine finished cutting the key. He fed it to a different slot where it would be smoothed, and any filings removed by a revolving wire brush. We chitchatted a bit more and he mentioned he was 18 and already applying to colleges for admissions.


"If I were younger and you were gay..."

He removed the key from the slot and searched for one of those small, white paper bags to put it in. I told him to have fun at college. And, looking back on it, I’m slightly amazed that I said the following, although I don’t know why I should be (amazed). I have a habit of making outrageous statements. I said: “I’m sure you’ll have a good time at college. Heck, if I were 15 years younger and you were gay, I’d be asking for your phone number.”

He looked at me intently for a moment, then said, “It’s 872-8421. I get off at six.”

Holy fucking shit! I couldn’t believe it. I scrambled for my phone, screwed up the entry code because I was hitting the keyboard in a panic, finally got logged in and told him to give me that number again. He did. And he told me his name – Jess.

My ears were ringing, and my brain felt as if it were about to leak out of my skull, but I added him to my contacts. It’s not unusual to go the store and come back with a lot of stuff you weren’t expecting to pick up, but how many times do you pick up a hot 18-year-old?

I promised I would call him. As I walked away, he said, “See ya,” and added slyly, “Daddy.”

I spent the next three hours showering, shaving, changing clothes, getting my house cleaned up, flossing my teeth, trimming my eyebrows – hell, just anything I thought I needed doing to make myself presentable. I even changed the sheets on the bed, in the faint hope things would progress that far. (I remembered reading a classified ad on Craigslist from a guy who was complaining about a potential trick who left before the fun began because the bed smelled like “a sack of farts.”)

At quarter to six I called him and demanded that he come over, straight from the store. I gave him my address. He said he’d be right there.


I gave him my address

Half an hour later a Honda Civic pulled into the driveway. He shut off the headlights and got out. He walked to the front door and knocked. I ushered him in, closed the door and locked it. When I turned around, he pressed himself into me and gave me a kiss.

This was not a quick peck on the cheek or one of those tongue-and-spit exchanges you see in porn videos. He raised his right hand to the back of my head, ran his fingers into my salt-and-pepper hair and pulled me into his lips, his tongue darting in and out. He pressed his body against mine. It was warm and soft, like butter left out of the fridge since yesterday, and it molded to fit the shape of my body. I could feel the stiffness of his cock and it made mine rise inside my jeans, yanking out pubes as it lengthened.


He had no trouble finding my bedroom

He held the kiss about 30 seconds and then, without saying a word, took my hand and led me to the back of the house. He didn’t have trouble deciding which bedroom was mine – only one had a bed in it. He lay down and pulled me down on top of him, his face beaming with innocent pleasure, and he said, “Now kiss the living shit out of me.”

I fell into him, devouring him with my mouth, my lips tasting the flesh behind his ear, his ear lobes, his throat, then landing on his lips to greedily suck at his mouth. He moaned suggestively, and I could feel the vibration of his vocal chords against my own throat, almost like a cat purring loudly---it was such a turn-on I groaned myself. My hands were exploring his body, slipping under his Polo shirt to roam his hairless chest, up over his shoulders, his pits and then down, down, until I was massaging his thighs. He pushed his crotch against mine as his hands ran through my hair and across my back, pulling me into him, as if every square inch of my body had to be crushed against his.


This was so unlike my other sexual episodes

This was so unlike many of my sexual episodes, especially with guys his age. Usually they want to focus on the mechanics of sucking and fucking. But not this kid. He seemed to enjoy the pleasure of easy physicality, the compression of flesh against flesh. We lay there on the bed wiggling against each other, our efforts generating a delicious, sensual heat and the odor of our ramped up pheromones lending a thick, musky scent to the air in the dark bedroom, I began to wonder why I had rarely done this. To think, I could learn something about sex from an 18-year-old kid. It turned my cock into a steel I-beam.

I had to have him.

He was as hard as I was

I pulled his shirt off. His chest was pink and, as I said, hairless. He had enormous areoles that I immediately planted my lips on, eliciting a mischievous giggle from him. As I sucked I began working on his belt buckle. He had kicked off his track shoes so getting those blue jeans off was simply a matter of undoing the belt and snap, then ripping them off those slim, blonde hips.

I could see beneath his boxer briefs he was as hard as I was. His dick was about 5½, maybe 6 inches long, and it looked like he had enormous balls, based on the way those briefs sagged in the crotch. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth down there.

Before I even knew what was happening he had my shirt off. I have some hair on my chest, not a lot, but he ran his hands through it as if it were a thick, furry nap, all the while kissing me voraciously, traveling from my lips to my jaw to my throat. I could feel the iron hardness of his dick as it rubbed against my crotch. When he pulled back a moment I could see a damp spot in his briefs. My jaws ached, and my mouth watered in anticipation.


Without thinking, I got completely naked

Without thinking, I had gotten completely naked. As Jess continued kissing me, I slipped my hands under those boxer briefs and palmed his ass cheeks, forcing his underwear down simultaneously. I could feel the muscle rippling beneath my hands as he pushed down and stepped out of the briefs. Then, he followed his underwear and got down on his knees on the floor beside the bed. He took my hard cock into his mouth.

His skin may have been silky cool, but his mouth was a furnace of heat and suction. He molded his tongue around my cock and bobbed on it, letting the tip do unspeakable things to my pee hole and the head. His hands gripped my buttocks and squeezed, and if I had let him continue, I would have exploded into his mouth on the spot. But I had other plans for my spunk.


His balls were enormous

I pulled him up and then pushed him down on the bed. I knelt and grabbed his ankles, spreading his legs and raising them at the same time. I pushed my face into his crotch, my nose against his dick and my mouth just above his balls. They were enormous, just as I’d guessed, and I couldn’t help but fondle them as I sniffed and licked at his essence. This blond-haired man-boy had a wonderful, clean aroma that had to be sampled both by nose and mouth. I gave his cock a few laps, then allowed my mouth to travel south to his balls, pushing my face into them as I licked the scrotum. His flesh was slightly salty with an intensifying taste of musk as his body prepared to do what it had been designed to do.

Then I moved farther south, licking at his taint. A few hairs sprouted there, and it was barely sticky.

Just below was the real prize.

I buried my mouth in his ass crack and stuck my tongue against his hole. The heat between his cheeks was like a pizza oven. I pressed my face into it as far as it would go and pulled his cheeks apart to get better exposure. He began groaning as I slurped noisily at his ass. He was as clean and fresh there as the rest of his body, but the musk was much stronger, and it was having an effect on me.


He still had that goofy smile on his face

I stood up. My cock was standing straight out from my body. I looked down at him. He still had that goofy smile on his face, and his cheeks were flushed a British schoolboy red. He said in that weirdly masculine voice, now husky with desire, “C’mon Daddy. Put it in.”

I had lube on the nightstand. I coated my dick with squirt. I knelt a little, to position the head against his hole.

“Push it in,” he said dreamily. “Push that motherfucker in.”

I followed his orders.

I didn’t just slam it in, like all the pornos say you should do. I pressed against his hole. There was some resistance, not the impossible muscular rigidity of an anal virgin but enough resistance to make me work for it. I took it easy, despite all the excitement, and slowly entered the increasing heat and friction of his rectum. He let out a long moan as the head of my dick popped past his anal ring. That’s when I gasped. The heat was cauterizing. It was as if this little slice of boy heaven had the fires of hell contained within his ass. I pushed and pushed, and the muscles of his ass squeezed my cock with such vigor I thought I would unload right then and there.


Eventually, I bottomed out

Eventually, I bottomed out. My crotch was balls deep in his fun hole. I left it there a moment, a bewildered explorer taking in the spectacle of his latest discovery, then slowly pulled out. Then I pushed back. Pull out, push back. His muscles slacked a little, and I quickened my pace.

As I fucked him, he flung his head right and left, that thin blond hair flying, and he whispered little nothings, “Oh God yes! God, yes! Oh Jesus, that feels so good. Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my tight hole. Fuck your boy.” His dirty talk alone could have sent me over the edge. I had to stop several times and just hold my dick in place to keep from cumming. I used the occasions to lean down and kiss him, and he consumed mouth with a gasping enthusiasm made me resume fucking.

For the next fifteen minutes that’s what I did – fuck him and then pause, leaning in for a kiss and some dirty talk. Sometimes I alternated between long power strokes and quick rabbit punches – he seemed to like anything and everything I offered.


All that jizz

Finally, I felt his asshole clench my dick, and I looked down to see his cock erupting with huge floes of cum shooting up his chest, coating that hairless expanse of flesh with slick trails of man juice. I could feel his muscles thrumming as he cried out in ecstasy and continued pumping seed onto his chest and stomach. Young guys have gallons of sperm and this kid, with his huge balls, was no exception. He could have repopulated the world with all that jizz.

Seeing him bust his nut was too much for me. I started to pull out, but he held me in – “You’re disease-free, right?” he asked, to which I replied, “I wouldn’t be fucking you without a condom if I weren’t.”

His smile broadened. “Then pump it into me, Daddy. Make me your bitch. Make me pregnant.”

Oh fuck. What he said hit some kind of trigger and my orgasm snuck up on me. Next thing you know I was slamming into him, blasting spasm after spasm of sperm into his colon. I think my eyes must have rolled back in the sockets because for a moment I couldn’t see, such was the intensity of my lust. I kept pushing and emptying until the tidal wave began to ebb, leaving me shaking and delirious. I took huge, whistling breaths as I hung over him, then leaned down to kiss him, my cock still firmly lodged in his young ass.

We snuggled and kissed while I regained my sensibilities. I could feel his sperm, cool to the touch now, against my chest as my cock softened and plopped from his hole. He made little “Mmmm” sounds as we both drifted down from our orgasmic plateaus.


We drifted down from the orgasmic plateau

I finally stepped away from him and he stood up. Cum was running down his leg. He looked sexy as hell.

“That was fucking awesome,” he said, his voice back to its previous baritone. “I’m gonna want more of that from now on. Are you up to it?”

I took a deep breath, still slightly winded. “I’ve got lots and lots of keys I need made into copies,” I said.

“Gotcha” he answered. And then he winked.


Anonymous.a writes erotic stories and has them published on various platforms, including Amazon, where his latest collection of short stories, “Mischief in the Men’s Room”, is now available.

You can reach him at: clover2209@yahoo.com


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