by Cray Z
Cody McPherson was a handsome young man, fair-skinned with strawberry blond hair and green eyes. The eyes were the first trait everyone noticed about him: dazzling, emerald-colored and intense.
This intelligent fellow was a hard worker who had been on his own since he was in his mid teens, following the untimely death of both parents. Orphaned at eighteen, Corey worked steadily at warehouse and moving jobs. While most young men were contemplating proms and colleges, he was carrying a lunch pail to work and struggling to pay rent.
His daylight hours were spent moving furniture into peoples’ homes, and he actually enjoyed the happiness he brought to people upon assembling their new tables or installing their ovens. It was a nice time for them, and pleasant for Corey despite the fact that it was hard work.
With his good looks and affable attitude, his social life blossomed. He frequented gay bars in the town of Morrison, sampled the novel technology of gay computer dating, and stayed out dancing into the small hours on weekends. And it was at a bar called "That Way" that he met bartender Marc Bradley, an Australian who moved to Morrison two years earlier. Marc was tall and raven-haired with olive skin that contrasted stunningly with his sky blue eyes. Corey wasn't in love with Marc, but now and then he'd go to his place where they'd make meaningless, satisfying love. And not just the standard vanilla stuff either. You see, Corey and Marc were foot fetishists and a lot of time was spent sensuously licking each other’s soles and ravenously sucking each other’s toes.
That's what they were doing the day Corey's world began to unravel. The two were on a comfy queen-sized mattress, the toes of Marc’s right foot were being individually sucked by Corey, while Marc’s tongue probed between each of the toes of Corey’s left foot—snaking between each digit and ferreting out each bit of lint or erotic foot fragrance. Soon Marc was slowly moving his hands lower and lower on Corey's equally naked body until he was finally rubbing the blond’s ass. Marc then continued his massage over each thigh and calf muscle until things reached the point where Corey was so relaxed that he felt practically boneless. The only thing marring his relaxed state was his own ever-hardening cock, for it was nearly impaling him in his own stomach.
He relished the feeling of the bartender's strong hands on his thighs, as well as the feel of his mouth kissing and caressing his ass, but still longed for Marc to finish the electrifying blowjob. His entire body was primed and ready. With each gentle squeeze the furniture mover could feel the cool air against his sensitive of orifices, and he could feel the sphincter of his ass being pulled gently this way and that way.
Then there was a kiss on his ass from the bartender … and another … and then a warm, wet tongue was being applied to his asshole and that bit of skin separating it and his nuts. Corey's inner thighs where Marc's hands still rested felt like jelly. The mover's stomach was quivering inside from the Aussie's ministrations to his posterior, and he was so nerves were so electrified with lust that each press of Marc's tongue against his asshole threatened to turn him inside out. The fun-loving foreigner whispered calming words in Corey's ear, the weight of his chest pressed against the mover's back, and his cock nestled against his asscrack. Corey loved the feel of the stud’s breath on his ear.
Abruptly Marc climbs off the mover's back. Then he motions for Corey to pull his legs a bit apart while he himself coats both his fingers and his lover's ass with some K-Y gel. He then brusquely shoves the finger in. The act was so sudden and shocking that the furniture mover thought he was being ripped from stem to stern. Slowly, slowly, the pain abated as his hole stretched to the point where Marc could get three fingers inside of him.
Then came another sudden move that made Corey gasp. Marc straddled Corey again and replaced his fingers with his cock. The mover immediately began to buck like a wild bronco, grunting and moaning. With each thrust the Aussie made, Corey felt that much more pleasure. Every nerve in his body was energized, his ass was on fire and he felt the bartender's cock invade his internal anatomy, moving forward like a throbbing bulldozer. The mover was turned on by the very sounds their bodies made as they slapped up against one another … and was turned on even more by the feeling of his body being hammered rhythmically.
Corey's asshole was tingling, burning and aching. And yet it felt so incredibly good! He grunted and moaned as the pinnacle of lust swept over him and he shot rope after milky rope of jizz that collected in a creamy puddle beneath him. Then Marc screamed in mind-blown ecstasy and came inside him, each searing shot of the bartender's fuck juice was accompanied by a thrust that felt as if it were tearing the mover's insides apart. The Aussie seemed to cum forever, his huge balls continuously sending warm cream through his dick and into Corey's ass--venturing even further into his lover's being until both young men collapsed into a hot, sticky and sweaty heap.
Some time later, still dazed and sated after their fuck session, Corey heard the sound of cold laughter in the distance. Peering into the darkness of the bedroom he made out the definite shape of a stranger. A spectator who had been invited by Marc; he’d been watching from the shadows while the Aussie fucked Corey's brains out!
Marc rolled over and laughed as this stranger stepped into the moonlight. It was Damon “D-Dog” Washington, a fellow furniture mover from Corey's own company! Damon was tall, muscular and straight as an arrow. He had broad shoulders that tapered to lean hips and a unit so large his slacks seemed scarcely able to contain it. He had a shaven head and skin that was a shade of semi-dark chocolate. But it was those eyes that captured Corey’s attention. Dark. Cold. Pitiless. And Marc’s eyes had suddenly become just as cold and unfeeling.
The mortified mover realized he’d been on the degrading end of a cruel prank, so he immediately got his clothes on and fled the premises.
The next day at work Corey learned that "D-Dog" Washington had spread the word amongst the their co-workers. The blond had always known that the company's supervisors hated gays (and had a habit of allowing employees to give a voice to that hatred), so he was aware that he was in for a bad time. Herbert Lawson, owner of the company, wanted gays, at best, back in the closet. The fact that Corey was now “out” meant that the other co-workers were given free reign to express their disapproval.
From that day onward Damon Washington and his best pal Scott Lawson, son of the company's owner, did their best to make Corey's life miserable. Oddly enough, Scott’s own homosexuality had been confirmed when Corey saw him in a gay bar months earlier. This being the case, there was a high probability that Damon Washington was gay as well. After all, he and Scott did everything together. Their need to persecute a fellow homosexual didn't surprise Corey. He had seen so-called "closet cases" commit all manner of atrocities against their own in the name of what? Self-hatred? Evil? As the days wore on, co-workers peppered Corey with questions--some getting too personal for the mover's liking. This viciousness was fueled by the pressure the citizens of Morrison placed on each other to dress, look and act like everybody else.
While blowing off steam at a local basketball court after work, Corey battled Damon Washington again. The two engaged in a game of one-on-one, but immediately this bald brawler became an aggressive opponent who taunted and attempted to injure him at every opportunity. Whenever Corey played basketball, Damon would make his life a living hell. His constant verbal and physical abuse inspired a lot of anger in young Corey.
Things grew worse when a furniture mover named Jason Shallows stole a cache of jewelry from a house he’d delivered furniture to. Corey was blamed for the theft, and being unable to reacquire the missing money, soon found himself booked and sentenced for a crime he didn't commit.
Scott Lawson, son of the company's owner, could have exposed the true thief, for he’d learned of Shallows' mile-long rap sheet the day after the lowlife was hired. But Scott was a closeted young man who felt that Corey McPherson's openness about his sexuality somehow threatened his secret gay romps. So no mention was made of Jason's extensive larceny record ... and Corey was effectively railroaded.
The mover’s attorney advised that if he pled guilty, not withstanding his claim of innocence, he'd get probation. But the first judge to hear Corey's case refused to accept his guilty plea. The district attorney dismissed without prejudice, then re-filed. And in front of a different judge, naïve Corey got the same advice from his attorney: Plead guilty. The D.A. asked for five years. The Judge gave the young mover three.
So Corey McPherson, now nineteen, was off to the big house. But he resided in this hoosegow for only a year. Overcrowding at the state prison had been creating a dangerous situation within the facility. The problem had gotten so bad, corrections officials had no choice but to undertake one of the largest prisoner transfers in state history. That's when every inmate in that facility, including Corey, was moved to a new prison.
And while Corey was being marched down this new prison’s hall with the other transferees, he spotted Damon Washington. The bald brawler had been sent up two months earlier for a bar stabbing in Red Rock. He spotted Corey and immediately recognized him. But the look Damon directed at him wasn't one of enmity. Despite the animosity the bruiser had extended to him more than a year earlier, things were different now that they were both confined to a prison in some unfamiliar town. They were now the only two inmates from Morrison, and in an odd way this bonded them.
When the two cuffed and uniformed prisoners passed each other, they weren't allowed to speak, but Damon gave Corey a nod--a silent gesture meaning more than any words either could have spoken.
Still Corey's time in prison was marked by the unimaginable savagery of various gangs who assembled like wolves in timber. The mover never officially joined a gang, so it wasn't long before word got around that he was "without proper protection". It was only a matter of time before someone made a move, for the furniture mover was very handsome, and very boyish-looking. A deadly combo in that environment.
And Corey had just gotten back from the exercise yard one afternoon when he found himself quickly surrounded by shaven-headed thugs.
These brutes seemed cut from the same cloth. They were pale, flinty-eyed and covered with tattoos. Most of them seemed uncertain as to what to do with the young mover. They decided to make a recruiting attempt first. But when the young mover refused to give a pledge of allegiance to their gang, he was immediately slammed to the concrete floor. What these inmates planned to do can be debated, but they didn’t get a chance to follow through with their intended plans because, like magic, Damon Washington appeared.
And he took on the tattooed thugs by his lonesome. The brutes closed in on him so he threw a roundhouse that caught two of them in the back of their shaven heads, knocked them cold. It was widely known how strong most movers were, so it didn’t surprise Corey how easy taking out two men could be for Damon. He himself wouldn’t have been such easy prey if the thugs hadn’t taken him by surprise.
He quickly climbed to his feet intending to lend Damon a hand with the fiends. But before young Corey could aid his savior, the bald bruiser let out a roar and charged at the tattooed thugs, kicking and punching with the strength that only a man who moved sofas up narrow flights of stairs could possess. In the end most of the thugs were unconscious or had fled.
Certain that none of the shaven-headed adversaries would be causing more trouble, Corey and Damon sat down on the concrete floor, backs to the wall. The bald brawler asked if he was okay, and Corey nodded but wondered if the blows to his face had ruined his good looks. The man called “D-Dog” took the youth’s face in his hands, turned it this way and that way as he scrutinized it, then assured him that there was no permanent damage. Then the two took time to catch up on each other’s lives. Neither could have predicted how seeing someone ... ANYONE ... from their hometown would lighten their hearts. It didn't matter to Corey and Damon that, before they'd been incarcerated, the two had been mortal enemies.
The nineteen-year-old tried to verbalize a proper thank-you to the bald brawler, but was cut short when "D-Dog" suddenly kissed him--his tongue flicking against Corey's lips. It was clearly what he’d long to do during all those days he taunted and bedeviled the blond when they worked for the moving company.
Damon then pulled back and looked the nineteen-year-old directly in his emerald green eyes. Then without a word the two commenced to the showers.
Stripping naked and stepping under the spray, the two lathered each other, giggling like kids all the while. Damon took Corey into his arms and they kissed passionately. As they kissed, the furniture mover reached down and felt Damon's sizeable dick as it swelled to hardness. The nineteen-year-old stroked it softly while the bald brawler kissed his neck, shoulders and erect passion-affected nipples. He hungrily sucked and nibbled on them while the younger man moaned blissfully.
Sated with this form of play, he reached behind Corey and lathered the blond’s asshole--a vigorously soapy lather. Once he was finished the nineteen-year-old placed his arms on the shower wall and thrust out his ass in anticipation. And like a magician Damon pulled a condom from behind his ear and slipped it onto his dick. He then covered his condom-coated cock with lube comprised of Corey’s own precum.
As the nineteen-year-old felt Damon Washington's cockhead stroking his soapy entrance, he pushed back--trying to drive the bald brawler's tool into his ass. And as Corey backed into it, Damon slowly pressed in … only going about half an inch. He knew that this was most-likely Corey's first time experiencing a cock so large, and he wanted to cause him as little pain as was possible until he grew used to it. When the blond younger man said that he could take it, the bald brawler went in another half inch, then another.
Finally Damon's huge balls were resting against Corey's ass. The man called "D-Dog" took long, very slow strokes. He felt emotions and feelings pass through the younger man: worry, abject agony, tolerable pain and then finally mind-shattering bliss. Corey's emerald green eyes glazed over, and he uttered a moan that told Damon he could fuck the blond as fast as he wanted because the mover's ass was now ready for anything!
Still the pain was sensational. After deeply embedding his cock inside him, Damon put his arms around the mover and held him tightly. The two stood in the shower with the water cascading on them as they swayed and undulated against each other simultaneously. The bald brawler's huge dick driving in and out of Corey's ass was sending wave after wave of pleasurable pain through the nineteen-year-old.
As Damon's hips were working on fucking his enemy-turned-friend's ass, his hands went to exploring the blond's body. There were two things that made this session hotter than hot to the bald brawler; The first was knowing that anyone could walk right into the shower and see them there. The second was knowing that Corey had never experienced a dick like his before.
He edged as long as he could, fucking the younger man like mad. Then, without a warning, Corey's cock exploded. He shot load after load of cum onto the shower. It was the absolute greatest, most exhilarating release in the world. The mover’s whole body vibrated with this orgasm and he felt his own emerald green eyes rolling in his head!
As Corey came, Damon quickened his tempo--pushing his dick deeper and deeper inside the younger man, relentlessly pounding the nineteen-year-old's ass. His dick slid in and out Corey until his body began to spasm. Damon closed his eyes and gasped. Plowing into Corey's ass one more time, the bald brawler began to cum like a violent volcano--spewing white-hot jizz into the rubber he wore. He cried out and gasped for breath until Corey could feel his enemy-turned-friend's cock softening inside of him.
Then Damon slowly pulled out and removed the cum-filled rubber.
There was an immediate bond of love between them after this abrupt shower session, and the two inmates became the best of friends and lovers within that savage prison environment. They looked out for one another and the time they spent behind bars was made more bearable because of each other’s presence.
But a little less than a year later Damon Washington finished his sentence and was once again a free man.
On the back of a paperback, Damon wrote his name and address and telephone number for his home in California. Before he left, Corey told the bald brawler what a good friend he'd been--what a good back-watcher he had been. In return Damon told Corey how he hoped that, when he got out himself, he’d visit him some day at his family’s home in Long Beach.
The now twenty-year-old Corey McPherson hated to see his enemy-turned-friend leave and was overwhelmed by his warm feelings for Damon. They embraced to say their good-byes and the wind immediately started blowing hard. The sky actually seemed to turn dark minutes after Damon "D-Dog" Washington walked out of the prison gates.
Corey's spirit had come close to breaking then. It seemed as if each and every prison gang had a personal beef with him and made it clear that he was living on borrowed time. Day after day there was a different problem, and he had no one like Damon to confide in. For over a year he had known a warm and genuine friendship in that dreaded prison, and now he was all alone--a stranger among strangers.
He was freed just after his twenty-second birthday, and he emerged from the prison decorated with tattoos and addicted to drugs.
And the former furniture mover had resigned himself to this fact. He felt that he was a drug addict and that was all he ever would ever be. But then, appearing almost as magically as he had when Corey was nearly ambushed and raped in prison, Damon Washington was there.
After they talked a bit, Corey took Damon up on the older man’s offer to let him stay at his place if he wanted a fold-out sofa instead of the hard ground to sleep on. And if that weren't enough Damon and his mother also got Corey enrolled into the "NonNarco Program" which would help with his addictions. The twenty-two year-old didn't know if it would work but he was keenly aware that if he didn't do something soon he was going to end up dead.
Corey McPherson arrived on the NonNarco campus and that was when his life finally began to change. Through the course of the program he regained the sense of personal integrity and responsibility necessary for him to stay off of narcotics. There was one particular day that the young blond had the tremendous realization that he was once again in control of his life.
He also had a few true blue friends in the world, and he could honestly say that he was completely happy for the first time since his unjust incarceration. This was when Corey knew he had finally conquered his drug addiction, and he owed his victory over narcotics to the support of Damon's family and the aid he'd received from the NonNarco Program and their treatment staff.
Still, once Corey was clean and fully aware of how much time he'd lost while imprisoned behind bars and within a drug-induced haze, he burned with a desire for revenge. A desire he didn't even try to suppress. This is the reason why he came up with a scheme to get back at Scott Larson, the son of the moving company's owner. Scott was the young man who withheld information from the authorities that might have kept Corey from going to prison for a crime he was innocent of.
Yes, the blond concocted a plan of revenge against twenty-five year-old Scott--something that would involve revealing the closeted youth's homosexuality to his very homophobic father, Herbert Lawson. He knew that if the elder Lawson became aware of his son's indiscretions, Scott would be out of both a job and a trust fund. Damon "D-Dog" Washington scoffed at Corey's plan to “out” Scott, for about a minute. After that he was rather eager to aid the mover with his scheme. After all Scott, who had been the bald brawler’s lover, wasted no time in finding a new beau after Damon was incarcerated.
And on a Saturday morning Corey had a date to meet Scott Lawson for coffee at Borders Book Store and Café . The closeted young man had no idea that the mover was aware of the role he'd played in the blond’s incarceration. He was so vain that he took the notion that his father's former employee was attracted to him at face value.
They had a pleasant afternoon together.
The very next day the Corey invited the gray-eyed youth to his place for a little fun. Scott arrived at the mover's door at the agreed upon time, electrified hormones almost visible in the air around him. Corey answered the door wearing nothing but a T-shirt, briefs and a smile. He was ready for action.
Scott Lawson was a ruggedly handsome youth with storm-gray and lustrous hair that seemed to radiate the beams of the sun. He was so beautiful that Corey couldn't help but to gasp as the twenty-five year old slid his hands up under his T-shirt shirt and began rubbing the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. Scott pulled the bottoms of the furniture mover's shirt up until he could get it over his head and then tossed it aside. He knew Corey was into the feet scene so he dramatically knelt before the blond godling and tenderly kissed the youth’s feet, toe-by-toe. When Corey lifted one foot, the gray eyed youth took the time to kiss and then lick every inch of his sole. Once both soles were thoroughly coated with saliva, the two stepped back… both of their heads swimming with bliss and intense lust.
The gray-eyed stud took a moment to look at the mover's broad, smooth naked chest. He smiled before leaning in to kiss the blond's neck. Then he rubbed his hands all over Corey's newly exposed skin--over his shoulders, down his arms, up his sides, across his chest, brushing his thumbs in circles across the twenty-two year-old's man-nipples. He knew how to make a body sing with pleasure.
But what Scott Lawson didn't know ... what he couldn't have known ... was that that his homophobic father Herbert Lawson, whom Damon had purposely invited (with a carefully crafted ruse of course) over to the apartment he now shared with Corey, was present. The elder Lawson was hiding in the shadows not eight feet away from where his son was using his hands and mouth to worship Corey McPherson's well-toned body! No, poor Scott couldn’t have known that he was a fly already dead center in the fly’s parlor!
The gray-eyed godling was full of praise and shaking with lust as he again knelt down on the floor, took Corey's cock into his mouth and began sucking. The mover loved his technique. It was incomparable to anytime his cock had been sucked in the past.
Scott Lawson sucked him for a while and then told the twenty-two year-old that he could go on sucking forever. Corey enthusiastically told him to go for it, and Scott immediately took the mover’s cock into his mouth and swallowed it until his nose was resting in the blond’s sweaty pubic hair. And as he sucked Corey off he played with his own cock. Then the furniture mover, acting on pure instinct, suddenly grabbed hold of Scott's head and began to more vigorously fuck the gray-eyed youth's mouth with his cock. Not hard, but with some authority. Scott moaned with deep appreciation of this action.
Corey fucked his cock deep into Scott’s throat and thrilled at the feel of the gray-eyed youth's throat muscles as they massaged his throbbing rock-hard tool. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he released his cum deep inside the godling's sucking mouth. And Scott continued to suck him right up to the point where the twenty-two year-old was on the verge of shooting. Corey wanted to prolong the sensation, so he cupped the gray-eyed youth's face in his hands and pulled him away, but insatiable Scott jutted his head forward and re-gobbled the mover's tool, his blissful countenance glowing.
But while Scott Lawson's ruggedly handsome face beamed with hearty carnal enjoyment, his father's face was expressive of disgust and misanthropy. Herbert Lawson bore witness to his son's sexual romp in stunned silence from his hidden vantage point in the shadows.
Scott continued sucking Corey off, very slowly and gently, no teeth and plenty of tongue. It wasn't long before the mover felt his ultra-sensitive balls swell and he shot his load into the gray-eyed youth’s hot mouth. As he did this, Lawson ravenously swallowed the blond's sperm.
And he was still swallowing when Herbert Lawson suddenly stepped out of the shadows.
Seeing his father caused Scott's storm-gray eyes to grow wide with abject terror. He backed away from Corey and then promptly threw up. Indeed the ruggedly handsome godling looked as if he were on the verge of fainting as he backed away from his father.
Meanwhile Corey McPherson was looking rather disgusted as he glanced down at the combination of sperm and vomit that now decorated his apartment's rug. He didn’t look away until he became aware of the fearful whimpering sounds Scott was making as his father slowly approached him.
Herbert Lawson now had irrespirable proof that his son was gay. Herbert Lawson, a respected businessman as well as a staunch spiritual leader in a conservative church in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, had suddenly found himself confronting a situation that had once been inconceivable.
Scott himself had been forced to bite the bullet and put an end to all the secrecy.
Amazingly, after much talk and tears, father and son reached an understanding. And Herbert Lawson eventually came to accept Scott despite his continued ambivalence in regards to his son's lifestyle. So things worked out well in the end. So well that Corey McPherson hardly bemoaned the fact that his act of revenge inadvertently resulted in his enemy receiving the good fortune of an open and honest relationship with his father!
