Part 2

A week later, my friend Paul and I were walking home from school. He lived just a block away from me.

"So who is this Richard dude?"

"Heís an old friend of my momís. She used to date him before she married dad. Heís hung around like a fart since my dad died."

"You donít like him?"

"Heís an asshole -- treats me like some shit kid. Man, Iím almost sevenÖ!"


Paul ducked a split second before my school bag flew over his head. He rolled on the nature strip laughing his dumb tits off. I dove on top of him and we wrestled for a few minutes before I finally got him in a headlock. Heíd been chewing gum, and his breath smelt warm and minty. It kinda turned me on.

"If my cock was that big, you wouldíve choked to death by now, you little shit."

As we got close to my house, I asked Paul if he wanted to come in for a bite to eat and some milk. My mom liked Paul a lot. The two of them would often chat about stuff while I was away on the computer or something. I never found out what they'd actually talked about, though. Paul or mom never told me. Not that I asked. Maybe they talked about me.

"Richard should be here any minute now ... Daniel? Will you get your head out of that fridge for one second? Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, mom." I put the milk carton to my lips and drank.

"And how many times have I told you...?"

"Sorry, mom."

I gave the milk carton to Paul to see what he would do. He waited until mom wasnít looking, then drank from it, too. We giggled like a couple of kids who'd just farted in church.

When the doorbell rang, I wished I could be out of there but mom made me promise to stick around after Richard had arrived. We shook hands. Within seconds, he was going on about all that crap like how I was growing up and stuff. Doh!

"This must be your friend, Paul. Hi, Paul."

"Pleased to meet you Mr..."


"Hi, Mr Richard."

"No, just plain Richard," he guffawed, as if he'd cracked the funniest joke in American history.

"Hi, Richard."

"Richard," mom intervened, "will be staying for the weekend, boys, so heíll be sleeping in your room, Daniel. You can sleep on the sofa. Iím sure Richard doesnít want to share his room with, well ... anyone."

Richard responded by making some lame joke about snoring. The fact that none of us laughed didnít faze him at all.

"But, mom, what about Paul?"

"Paul? You didnít tell me Paul was sleeping over."

"Paul always sleeps over on Fridays! Well, he does now."

It felt weird to be looking at the soft, yellow moonlight through the open flap of a two-man tent in my own backyard, and hearing the chirping crickets.

"This was a way cool idea, Paul. I almost thought I was gonna miss out on my Friday blow job."

Paul rolled on top of me and started wrestling. I was cracking up so much it made me weak, so he managed to force me down. He straddled my chest and pinned my arms with his knees. Actually, I'd kind of let the little fucker win.

"So what are you gonna do now, Tarzan?" I laughed.

"Iím gonna get back at you and flop my big cock out of my boxers and make you eat my cum."

I used my superior strength to dislodge Paul and climb on top of him. As I sat on his bare chest, I looked down at his sweet face. He had that wicked twinkle in his eyes again. He loved my cock.

"Iím in the mood to tease you, asshole," I grinned.

Paul just gazed at me with those boyish blue eyes of his like some kid who was about to get a surprise present, and was unable to hide his mounting excitement. I rolled off him so I could remove my boxer shorts, then turned them inside out and draped them over my budís face. "Smell these, dude. Itís just a taste of whatís coming."

I turned around so that I could face the open end of the tent, placed my knees either side of Paulís shoulders, then squatted over his head.

"Hey, man," he freaked, "youíre not gonna shit on me or anything, are you?"

"Not if you do what I tell you," I laughed. "Take your shorts off and start stroking. I wanna see you cum while youíre licking my balls."

I felt Paulís tongue working around my buns, then slowly getting closer to my asshole. I figured he must have had his eyes closed and wasnít sure where my balls were. I didnít mean for this to happen, but I didnít want it to stop either. The further Paulís tongue entered my hole, the harder I got. He was rock hard too, and whacking himself crazy.

"Hey Paul! I dunno why youíre doing that, man, but it feels fucking rad."

Paulís tongue moved to my balls as his hot, sweet breath rose to my nostrils. His free hand was lightly caressing my ass. I felt the subtle kiss of his fingers drifting over my sensitive hole as his tongue licked my cum-filled nads. My cock was totally rigid and dripping pre-cum onto his smooth, brown chest.

"I canít believe this, man. Iím gonna cum without laying a hand on my cock!"

Paulís warm, wet tongue moved back to my hole. I could feel his face pressed against my ass as he tried to get his tongue as far inside me as possible.

Paulís boner exploded a second before mine. Hot, molten lava from both our swollen heads shot into space and then splattered all over his guts and chest. It was an incredible flood of boy juice. His navel glistened with a little pool of it. My nostrils filled with the horny aroma of our cum and sweat.

I cracked another egg into the bowl. Mom had asked me to make breakfast for Richard while she went to the mall for some groceries. Richard had just gone into the shower. Paul was standing beside me.

"What are you making?"

"Pot roast, you fucking dork. What does it look like?"

"I thought last night was awesome."

"Glad you liked it. I thought it was pretty cool myself. How come you licked my ass like that?"

"It was close by."

"You fucking little faggot. You were supposed to lick my balls."

"Yeah, well your hole is kind of cute."

Paul slapped me on the back of the head and laughed. I really liked the way he laughed -- it made me feel good. And knowing that he genuinely liked me made me feel good, too. But, I couldnít figure out how we could have such way cool sex and be best friends as well.

"So how come youíre making breakfast for Richard when you donít even like him?"

"Mom asked me to. And I love my mom. Besides, she didnít say anything about following her recipe."


"Itís gonna have special ingredients."

"Like what?"

"Get that puny dick out."

"Itís not puny, asshole. Anyway, what for? You wanna quick suck?"

"This egg recipe is what I call Ďeggs a la cumí. Get it?"

Paul understood right away and started stroking his dick. The excitement of cumming in Richardís eggs made us both get hard in an instant. Pretty soon, we'd shot our sticky wads into the egg mixture. It was fun to see our white juice floating over the top of the eggs -- then I put the pan back on the stove and used a wooden spoon to mix it in.

Richard burst into the kitchen with his usual "howya doiní guys?". He was dressed in Bermuda shorts, leather sandals and a loud, floral shirt. "Smells great, boys!"

"Itís my momís recipe, but Iíve added a bit of extra this and that. Thereís hot toast and marmalade, too."

"Youíre a fine boy. No wonder Nancy never stops talking about you."

"Paul helped out."

"Why thanks, Paul! Youíre a fine lad, too."

After Paul and I had watched Richard eat his eggs, we decided to exit the kitchen real fast because we were laughing so damn much. As soon as Iíd closed the door to my room, we collapsed on the bed, bouncing around in hysterics and holding our aching bellies.

We heard mom come home from the shopping, then talk to Richard. She asked him about breakfast. He said I should study to be a chef.

"Heís a mighty fine boy, Nancy. You have every reason to be proud of him. Those eggs were the best I ever tasted."

As our giggling subsided, Paul rolled on top of me and kissed me on the mouth.

"I love you, Daniel. Youíre so much fun to be with. I love you, I love you, I love you."

The shower rose exploded into life and drenched me with warm water. Paul was in the shower stall next to mine. Weíd just finished swim training.

"Listen man, Iím pretty pissed with that love shit you were going on about yesterday."

"I know."

"Lovey stuff is for fags, man. And I ainít no fag."

"Iím sorry, Daniel."

"Sorry? Donít gimme that sorry bullshit, Paul. I ainít no fag. OK?"

We left the showers and walked to the locker room. There was a bunch of young guys in a semi-circle at the far end.

"What are those guys doing?"

Paul's gaze was fixed on the floor. "You wouldnít wanna know, man."

I was still naked as I walked toward the group of teens. I recognized all of them from school."Whatís up, guys?" I neednít have asked the question. I could see that they were all jacking themselves crazy. "You fucking faggots. Why donít you get the fuck outa here?"

A big guy turned and gave me a menacing stare. "You gonna make us, blonde boy?"

The kid next to him piped up. "This is a competition, dude. If you donít wanna compete, fuck off."

I chilled while the big guy explained the story. Besides, I didnít wanna get my face re-arranged. He said this was a group of guys who got together on a regular basis to jack off and see who could shoot the furthest. They stood behind a chalk mark and tried to get their cum to land on a Coke bottle-top placed about four feet away.

"So whoís winning?" I shrugged as if I really couldnít give a shit.

"Nobody yet," said the big guy. "We were about to get started when you stuck your big fucking head in."

I glanced around at the group of guys. There were about ten of them. "Any fags here? Any of you guys wanna take the place of that Coke bottle-top?"

The big guy laughed. "I reckon there might be." He nodded toward a slim, shy looking boy. "Hey, Freddie, you wanna take the place of the Coke bottle-top?"

Freddie looked kind of awkward but smiled. He shuffled over to the spot where the bottle-top was, kicked it away and waited nervously for his next order.

"This is your fucking idea, man," said the big guy, glaring at me, "you organize it."

"K, we do the same thing. We see who can shoot the furthest. But, this time, Freddie opens his mouth and we aim for that. Cool with you?"

Everybody agreed, even Freddie. He must have been one of those masochistic wusses who loved being humiliated. We told Freddie to lie at right angles to us so that the floorspace between the chalk-mark and his head was vacant.

One guy after another shot his load. Freddieís open mouth must have given the guys added incentive to shoot long distance because just about every guy got Freddie in the face or pretty close by. The big guy was the only one who managed to get his load right into the bullseye. I couldnít believe the size of the wad, but Freddie swallowed the whole damn lot.

It was my turn now. As I put my feet behind the chalk mark, Paul approached me.

"Man, this is fucking gross."

"Fuck off, faggot. Or get over there with Freddie. Youíd like that, wouldnít you? You like all this faggoty, masochistic bullshit."

Paul stormed off and disappeared through the door. I was so fucking angry, I wanted to rid myself of all that faggot shit. I needed to prove that I was better than those masturbating cock suckers. I turned to the big guy. "I couldnít give a fuck about winning this competition, man. I know I could anyway. So Iíll just take the easy way."

I walked over to Freddie, placed my feet either side of his chest and jacked my load right into his gaping mouth. He was covered in cum. It was all over his face, hair, neck and chest. Ten guys had blown all over this dude. It looked totally awesome.

"Freddie needs a shower," I yelled. "Anybody wanna help?"

The ten guys gathered around Freddie and pissed all over him. Some just waved their piss stream any old place, others actually made an effort to force the cum off Freddieís face. The yellow streams cascaded off Freddieís glistening, wet body and flooded the floor, drenching our naked feet in piss. I couldnít believe that Freddie just laid there and let it all happen. Maybe he liked it. Maybe he was scared.

It was strange to be riding my black BMX home alone. Paul was usually with me when we finished swim training. When Iíd rounded a street near where I lived, I saw a kid sitting on the kerb under a street light. As I got closer, I recognized that straight, black hair and small nose.

"You OK, Paul?"

"That was really gross, man. You behaved like some fucking ape."

"Chill man. I hate this fag thing. I feel better now that Iíve pissed all over some nerdy creep."

"How do you know Freddieís a creep? What was he supposed to do? Fight ten guys?"

"You piss me off, Paul. You suck serious butt, dude."

I got off my bike and approached Paul. I grabbed his hair and forced his face to look at mine. "Did you hear what I just said, fag? You suck!" I unbuttoned my baggies and flopped out my dick. "So suck this, cock sucker."

I didnít see Paulís foot coming. It rammed my groin with such force it sent me flying back a good two yards. I was in agony. Paul dragged me up by the arms and punched me hard in the guts. When I'd doubled over, his knee rose swiftly and connected with my chin. As I writhed on the ground in pain, I heard hurried footsteps fading into the distance. I also heard sobbing.

The coolness of the wet sponge on my face felt nice. "Thanks, mom."

"What happened?"

"Some big dude. We got into a fight."

"Does he look worse than you do?"

"I doubt it."

"Anyway, Daniel, Paul rang. He said he was worried about you. He wants to come over if youíre well enough."

I allowed mom to sponge my face for a bit longer while I thought about Paul. "Yeah, Iím well enough. Ask him to come over in about an hour."

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 Daniel's Diary Part 3