I have very rosy cheeks, both on my face and on my ass. Also I hail from the West Country in England so I'm what used to be called a country bumpkin. Still I suppose it's a step up from country bumboy, a name I narrowly escaped being saddled with by the clientele I built up in the bushes behind our football stadium. It was commonly known as The Outback. Possibly because of its locality but most probably because there were usually a lot of bums hanging out of trouser backs. Anyway the place was literally jumping. Especially after a football match when the so called macho men in my small town seemed to acquire a lot of adrenalin and needed to let off steam. I discovered it by chance one evening when I badly needed to take a leak and haven't looked back since. It's a kind of perverted paradise. You couldn't begin to imagine what goes on in there. The day I wandered innocently in, there were guys sucking and fucking and overexcited bystanders jerking off or being jerked off by complete strangers. It was quite a surprise for someone as naive and inexperienced as I was. I mean I'd seen a few porno movies but here they were in the flesh in broad daylight just a few yards from a public thoroughfare. Incredible.

There used to be a famous play called "No Sex Please, We're British." Obviously the guy who wrote it had never visited The Outback. Some of the guys were really great looking too with decent dicks and fabulous asses. While I was watching I felt somebody creep up behind me and help me get my dick out of my trousers. I could just about see him out of the corner of my eye. He was wearing an open leather jacket with no shirt underneath. That and the smell of his body lotion turned me on and naturally my dick suffered the consequences. I'd drunk a lot of beer and so much wanted to relieve myself but the combination of the guy's hand slipping down my dick to caress my balls as he slipped his tongue in my ear made peeing absolutely out of the question.

After a while I realized this was just a tactic to take my mind off the fact that he was lowering my pants with the other hand and inserting his dick. It was what you might call a dry run as he made no attempt to lubricate my virgin orifice but shoved it straight in. I felt my knees buckle as he bust my butt and nearly broke the sound barrier with my muffled cries. (He'd covered my mouth while he was opening my ass.) My eyes stung with tears and I bit my lip in pain. Then he slowly began to ride me and sent me into a frenzy of desire. Soon we were bucking and fucking until I didn't know who was the horse and who was the rider. I only know I came in a shower of cum at the finishing post as he filled my ass with his juicy jizz. Several guys were jerking off at the horny sight of us and I got such a buzz out of the whole thing that I came back for more and more although I never did get a good look at the guy who fucked me. So much for 'first love.'

Anyway that was my initiation into anal sex. You might say it's where I got my butt broken in. Just as well too, considering what was in store for me. Actually I didn't set out to tell you the ins and outs of scoring in The Outback but while we're on the subject I don't mind admitting I might have missed my vocation. In fact I could very easily have made a steady living selling my favours. I mean I certainly had what it takes and I loved being fucked but I wanted to be a graphic artist, not a pornographic artist. So I enrolled in a Design School in Bristol. I was very happy there too. It's a great place with a beautiful suspension bridge and lots of gay bars and theatre life. I answered an ad in the local paper: 'Recently divorced gentleman seeks someone quiet and discreet to share house.'

Like most adverts it was slightly misleading. The formal tone led me to expect some horny geriatric between sixty and eighty but he turned out to be a good-looking guy a little younger than my father. Also he only offered me a very small room at the top of a Georgian house. What they call a garret. Bruce, my landlord, said his son used to sleep there. I didn't like to ask where his son was now. I thought he might be dead or on drugs or something. Or living with his mother. Bruce wasn't very communicative. However he did tell me he was a writer and worked mostly at home.

To my happy surprise there was a sundeck outside my window. It wasn't much bigger than a double bed sheet but it was completely isolated and I had the only access. I looked forward to doing some sunbathing in the nude. Weather permitting of course. Bruce told me I'd have to share the kitchen and bathroom but not to worry as he kept very irregular hours and I could come and go as I pleased. He introduced me to Dreadlocks, his overgrown poodle, and made me feel very much at home. Of course he laid down a few house rules such as not bringing strangers home but I expected that.

I liked him a lot. I liked his body too and got to see quite a bit of it that summer as he walked around in semi-transparent Dolce & Gabbana underpants or left the bathroom door open when he was showering. I wondered if he was gay but he gave no indication of it. He kept himself to himself. When he wasn't wandering round half-naked that is. In fact I got to know Dreadlocks the dog much better and would take him for walks on the Downs near the Suspension Bridge.

One hot summer's day I came back from my walk with Dreadlocks to find I had a visitor. Stretched out on the sundeck, bollock naked as we say in my neck of the woods, was some gorgeous young stud. He was lying on his stomach so all I could see was his honeydew melon of an ass. I presumed he must be Bruce's long lost son which would explain why he'd taken possession of my sundeck He was fast asleep and I couldn't wait for him to turn over so I could see his face and his dick. I didn't have long to wait either as Dreadlocks went sailing through the open window and was soon licking him all over. When I saw the rest of him I wanted to join in. His dick in particular was awesome. It was kind of curled up and nestled. Most dicks just hang there inconspicuously. His was so huge it seemed coiled for action like a snake. Afterwards I used to refer to him as the guy with the python penis. After he'd fucked me that is. He hugged and patted Dreadlocks and was obviously excited to see him as his dick began to unwind. He seemed completely oblivious of me so I sat on the windowsill waiting for him to introduce himself. Finally he remembered his manners and came over to shake my hand although by now I was more interested in shaking his dick.

"Doesn't look like there's room for two of us in there," he said, indicating the bed. "I'm Owen."

"I'm sure we could fit each other in," I replied archly. "I'm Joncy. Short for Jonathan Charles."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

It was weird standing there exchanging formalities while his humungous dick grew and grew and seemed to want to reach out and touch me. To make matters worse he stroked it almost absent-mindedly as if he thought he was still stroking Dreadlocks. He looked me up and down sussing me out as if wondering whether it was a little too early to take the sexual plunge. After all I was a guest in his home and in his room. Still it was obvious he was in need of a fuck and I was always happy to oblige. The unspoken hovered in the air and his dick did its share of hovering too.

"This is very embarrassing," he said at last. "Either I'll have to get some clothes on or you're going to have to get out of yours."

I didn't hesitate. I was out of my clothes in a flash. Then we stood on either side of the window weighing each other up.

"Did you mean what you said about being able to fit me in?" he asked.

"I'll do my best," I gulped, watching his dick rise towards the sky.

"Think we'd have more room out here," he said. "Why don't you join me?"

I climbed over the window ledge as if I were entering a land from which I might never return. He bent down and got a familiar looking bottle out of his rucksack. I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way I was going to get all that man meat inside me without the help of some lube.

"You'd better suck on it a bit first," he said. "Get it warmed up."

"Looks pretty hot to me," I said lamely.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," was the inevitable reply.

Sometimes I think pre-fuck conversation should be limited to the bare essentials like 'lift your ass higher' or 'pass me the lube'. Still at least our inane dialogue was better than "Sex and the City" which always cracked me up as they talked and talked about how great sex was and then did it in their underwear. And here we were stark naked. Two rampant bucks ready to lock horns.

For starters I teased the tip of his penis with the tip of my tongue and then licked the whole length of it, long and strong. I couldn't help thinking in the middle of it all that Dreadlocks would be better equipped for the job than me. His tongue was longer and wetter. Still judging by the sounds coming from Owen I didn't seem to be doing too badly. I swear to God as I packed that python into my mouth he actually hissed. This really turned me on and I set to work turning my mouth into an artesian well of saliva so he could slither and quiver to his dick's content. He grabbed my ears and tore at my hair and hissed his gratitude telling me he was going to fuck me good to pay me back for all the pleasure I was giving him. I couldn't wait. Besides my jaws were beginning to give out by now and I feared that if he pushed his dick any further down my throat it was going to throttle me. Finally he released me. At least he released my mouth, which had expanded out of all recognition. I hoped and prayed my butt would prove as flexible. Normally I take it doggy fashion so I lay on my stomach to receive him. He flipped me right over.

"No way," he growled. "I want you to see my dick going in and out of you."

He raised my legs high in the air and poured half a bottle of lube down my butt. The other half he spread over his dick. Then he held on to my ankles as if he was going to row me across the sundeck. I closed my eyes and waited for the anal invasion. Instead he was very gentle with me and just put a little pressure on my asshole with his python head. My shameless ass opened like a sluice gate. He entered me slowly inch by inch and then withdrew. He'd go in three inches and come out two inches. Then he'd go in four inches and come out three. And so on. Soon he was driving me positively delirious with delight. Then just before we got to ten he said, "Say when," as if he was offering me a glass of whisky or something. "When," I screamed, "O-wen, when, when, when!"

At this he suddenly built up the pressure and rammed his whole ten inches deep into my ass. My head was banging against the sundeck wall and my legs were going nineteen to the dozen as he plunged his dick deeper and deeper into me until my teeth began to chatter and my eyes rolled back in my head. Then just when I thought I was going to explode with the joy of it all he began to withdraw his dick again. I defied the laws of nature and pushed down on him trying to swallow his python with my ass. He drew it out. Right to its very tip. And then challenged me with his eyes.

"Say when," he said once more.

"When," I screamed again, "Oh when you bastard, when, when... fucking... when..."

I came like I'd never come before. Waves and waves and waves of it. And I didn't say 'when' either. Just let it flow out of me as he flowed into me. Suddenly I felt we were being watched. My first reaction was to say to myself, 'Seems everywhere I go people like to watch me being fucked,' but to my horror I realized it was Owen's father. He was standing at the window.

"I see you've met my son," is all he said. His voice like ice. Then he turned and left the room.

For a moment I didn't know which way to turn, so to speak. I might have had Owen half way up my ass but I had a feeling I was going to be out on it before the day was half over. I'd already broken one of the house rules and I'd been anything but 'quiet and discreet.' And school hadn't even started yet. As if he was reading my mind Owen told me not to worry.

"He knows I'm gay," he said, "Besides between you and me I think he needs a good screw himself."

We washed up and had a beer then Owen patted me lightly on the butt and told me to 'keep my options open.' He'd be back. Like his father he wasn't much of a conversationalist.

I didn't see Bruce later that day. He was probably out drinking or something. I heard him come back in the early hours cursing to himself and crashing into the fridge door. I decided to keep a low profile. Anyway I'd paid three months in advance and he probably needed the money. I wondered what kind of writing he did. He never seemed to get anything finished.

Next morning I got up early and took Dreadlocks for a long walk, hoping to redeem myself. He was fixing breakfast when I got back and offered me some coffee. He didn't mention anything about his son or my previous day's escapades. Least said soonest mended, I thought to myself. He took his breakfast into the living room and sat down in front of his computer. I had wanted to ask him if I could use it from time to time to transfer some of my graphics but I thought better of it. This was no time for favours. I went to the school and got a copy of my timetable. They said I could use the computers there until I got one of my own. I stayed out all day. Even went to the cinema to pass the time. Thought I might even pick up a trick although my ass was still sore from yesterday. Nothing doing. Anyway I wasn't in the mood. I had a greasy hamburger and went home.

You can imagine my surprise to find I had yet another visitor. Bruce was curled up on my bed nursing a bottle of whisky. Like his son before him he was fast asleep. Maybe he'd decided to have it out with me and had brought the whisky to give him some Dutch courage. He was wearing nothing but his D&G underpants but as this was his usual attire it didn't give me any cause for concern. What did worry me however was how I was going to get a good night's sleep. School started tomorrow. As Owen had rightly pointed out, there wasn't much room for two in my bed and to complicate the equation Dreadlocks had taken up residence at the foot of it. I suppose I should have slept on the living room sofa or sought other temporary accommodation such as Bruce's bed but something perverse in me made me lie down, spoon fashion, in the space that was left. After all, I told myself, it was my bed. I fell asleep exhausted after my fruitless day wandering round town.

I woke up to the feel of something hard between my butt cheeks. I thought for a moment that it was the whisky bottle or Dreadlocks' muzzle but it didn't take me long to realize it was Bruce with a hard on. He seemed to be still asleep and was snoring softly so I changed position. The hard on became harder and I was afraid to move further. I mean he might indeed be asleep and having an erotic dream. Dreadlocks was outside on the sundeck. I wondered if he'd had his evening walk. Probably not. I was just about to get up and survey the situation when Bruce groaned and dug his groin into me. I knew then he was awake but he still didn't speak. I'm not used to taking the initiative and didn't really know what to do. I rubbed myself against him and left the rest to him. He hugged me to him and passed his hands over my bare chest. My nipples went hard at his touch. He let out a plaintive sigh. It was almost as if he was ashamed of what he was doing. It reminded me of the first time my buddy had furtively jerked me off in my sleeping bag during a camping trip. And yet this guy was old enough to be my father. It was strangely exciting. Maybe it was his first time. Maybe the sight of Owen fucking me had turned him on. If only the bastard would say something. We lay there for what seemed ages and then he slipped a hand inside my boxer shorts. My dick shot up to meet him. This seemed to do the trick. At least it stirred him into action. He ripped my shorts off and grabbed my balls. Rather too hard for my liking. I tore myself out of his grasp and turned round to protest only to find his tongue deep down my throat. It was great. I'd never been tongue fucked like that before. Guys were so busy getting it up my ass that they never bothered with preliminaries such as kissing. And man he was a great kisser. There wasn't an inch of my mouth he missed and when his tingling tongue settled on my nipples I went ape-shit. My whole body vibrated. I'd been fucked until I thought my guts would explode but what he did to me with his tongue was something else. I felt like I'd been attached to an electric circuit. He even kissed and sucked my toes. Then he travelled the whole length of my inside leg and made an omelette out of my balls with his mouth and lips. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. Somebody was actually intent on pleasing me. Looking for my untapped love zones. Deriving pleasure by giving me pleasure. I was on cloud nine and humming like a revved up motor when he finally spoke.

"I've never done this before," he said to my amazement. "I'll probably go to hell for it."

"Take me with you when you go," I cried, "It's absolute heaven."

"Tell me what you'd like next," he said.

"Surprise me," I replied.

It was the longest conversation we'd ever had. I knew that sooner or later his marvellous mouth would land on my dick and take it to the moon but in the meantime he nosed and nuzzled my armpits and licked them to distraction. He lifted my legs in the air and investigated the horny crevice leading to my asshole. He rimmed and rammed my asshole with his tongue and made it feel so good I thought it would burst into flower. He may have been a man of few words but he certainly knew how to make my body talk. What's more his dick was the perfect shape for my ass and slipped in nice and easy. Like Cinderella's slipper. He didn't lunge or plunge but oozed gently in and out of me, flattering my ass by telling me it was better than any girl's pussy and that it was like squelching in soft warm mud or soggy sand.

"Squelch some more," I said.

He fucked me so slow I was able to get a good look at his body and a tight grip on his ass, which of course was no longer an advertisement for Dolce & Gabbana. I wrapped my legs round his neck and pushed him further inside of me. I was getting impatient. After all I was used to the grand slam. He continued to ooze and schmooze my ass and would not be hurried. It was like a Robert Redford movie. One that lasts for nearly three hours. Like "The River Runs Through It." Or floating leisurely down Snake River on an inner tube waiting for the rapids or the rugged rocks to get you.

I gazed at his beautiful face and ran my fingers across his lips. He pulled one into his mouth and sucked on it. Then he gave me a little stab with his dick as if to remind me why we were there.

"I've been wanting to do this ever since you walked in the door," he said.

"You could have fooled me," I told him. "I thought you didn't like me."

"Just avoiding the inevitable," he said. "Unfortunately Owen got to you first."

"I'm here now." I said, "and nobody could be more surprised than me. I thought I'd be out on my butt, not here with you in it." I added.

He laughed and then began to rock me to and fro on his dick building up the rhythm on my rump. It was great but a bit sleep provoking. Made me feel strangely like rock-a-bye baby on the tree top. But then there was a sudden change in the weather. The wind began to blow up a storm and the cradle began to rock like crazy as Bruce's bough started to go hell for leather at my butt and his tongue stabbed passionately at my mouth threatening to bring down baby and cradle and all. For a moment I felt like Dorothy being swept off by the tornado then I lost all sense of time and space. I was being fucked gloriously at both ends convinced that at any minute his tongue was going to meet up with his dick somewhere inside me. My ass had changed from soft and mushy to molten lava and I suddenly understood the meaning of the expression 'the earth moved for me.'

After the long overture the sexual symphony seemed to be over in seconds but they were seismic seconds. Talk about rock-a-bye my baby to a Dixie melody! I felt like Alexander's Ragtime Band had exploded inside me. It was phenomenal. Absolutely mind and ass blowing. In fact my dick was so much in shock that it forget to come and had to have hand to mouth resuscitation. And Bruce was surprisingly good at that too. I tell you man, by the time he'd finished sucking and jerking me off I was ready for the funny farm. His mouth was somewhere between a fruit blender and a suction pump and his hand felt like it was used to milking a herd of horny cows. He may have been a slow burner but when he finally erupted he produced enough spontaneous combustion to keep me lit up for the rest of the week. And I didn't even have the time, or the breath, to say when. Just wow!

Which reminds me I'd better keep mum about my nocturnal nursery rhyme. After all it wouldn't do to cum between father and son.