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Marching Band Cadet– Chapter 21 This is a series about high school males in the late 1970s. They had a secret club in which they engaged in gay sex and BDSM rituals. This series is told from the point of view of a club member who served as their submissive. The initial chapters establish the background and characters. As the story progresses, in later chapters there will be hardcore sex, group sex, S&M, and some raunch and taboo activities. The series is set in the years before HIV, so condoms are not used.

This is fiction. If you object to fiction that includes the activities listed above, then you should read no further and exit from this page.

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Previously: Sam and JT are alone at JT”s house. After many hours of erotic activities and training, JT has gone off to practice his trumpet. Sam is relaxing in the living room.

I laid down on the couch to watch a boring Saturday afternoon movie rerun. Almost immediately, I dozed off.

I was awakened by JT, standing over me and gently rubbing my shoulder. I was sprawled naked on the couch while a black and white western movie featuring Henry Fonda was playing on the TV. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” JT said to me. He went to turn off the television. I had been napping for about an hour, and I was a little bit dazed.

JT told me that it was “about time” for my second milking. Once I was awake, he had me get down on the floor. The sheet that we had spread out hours earlier for Jeff”s visit was still covering the carpet. JT had me get into a now familiar position: chest down and ass up.

JT was still wearing his white boxer shorts and white T-shirt. He had brought a plastic cup of cooking oil from the kitchen. He knelt behind me and dipped his fingers into the oil. Then he fondled my cock and balls, getting them completely greased up for the milking. Using his fingers, he dribbled oil down my ass crack. He rubbed the oil between my cheeks, over my hole, and all the way down to my ball sack. His touch was not rough, but it was not delicate either.

With Konya Escort no hesitation or shame, he suddenly slipped his oiled index finger right into my hole, causing me to squeal. He asked if I was all right, and I assured him that I was. It had just taken me by surprise. JT dipped his fingers into the cup and started spreading even more oil. He created a slippery, sensuous zone from the top of my ass crack all the way down and under to the tip of my penis.

Soon his hand began to slide slid rapidly and confidently up and down the whole area. Each time he slid over my anus, he paused to insert a finger. Each time his hand slid over my balls, he squeezed them until they slipped out of his grip with a little pop (earning a small shriek from me). Each time his hand gripped my penis, he pumped it a few times. He was not playing games. He was groping me intently and systematically, activating my genitals and my hole. I moaned and my body thrust back against his hand, wanting more stimulation and more penetration.

Very soon, from somewhere within me came a noise that was partly a growl and partly a hum. It was my orgasm announcing that its arrival was imminent. Hearing this sound from within me, JT slithered his hand once more down my crack, poking my hole, rubbing my taint, squeezing my balls, and finally gripping my cock and pumping furiously. “Give it up, boy,” he said. “Let go.”

Almost on command, I unloaded. It was a spectacular release. Hours of sexual tension and stimulation came to a climax. It was a slower orgasm than the one I”d had an hour earlier. Slower, and therefore more satisfying. An hour earlier I had been lying on the floor on my back, and there had been no anal stimulation. This time, my ass had been wide open and held high. I really had a sense of giving it up to my Sir as my juice surged out of me.

JT stopped pumping, but continued to grip my cock snugly in his fist. He was behind me, reaching down between my legs. His forearm was still pressed against my balls and my taint. It was a very domineering hold, and I was glad that he lingered for a while. When he finally let go, he brought his hand around to my face, and Konya Escort Bayan smeared some of my cum onto my lips and into my mouth. I gobbled it down, making sure my eagerness to obey was apparent to my Sir.

JT told me I could lie down because I remained in the chest down, ass up position. I rolled carefully onto my side, so that my oily ass didn”t make a mess of the sheet that we were lying on. I looked at JT. There was definitely a contrast between JT, wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts, and me, completely naked. He was calm and put-together, while I was a greased piggy, physically spent and still breathing heavily!

JT told me to go clean up. We”d had our enemas in the morning. And this was now the second time in the afternoon that I was being sent back to the bathroom to clean up my sloppy ass. The first time I was oozing Vaseline and a whole lot of cum. Now I was dripping cooking oil. I felt proud that my ass had been so well used that two cleanups were necessary.

When I returned to the living room, JT was sitting on the couch watching “Hee Haw,” a TV program about country music and hillbillies. He was still dressed in his underwear. I was feeling mischievous, so I went and draped my body over his lap in a spanking position.

JT palmed one of my ass cheeks with his hand. “What”s this, boy? Are you requesting a spanking?”

“Not exactly, Sir. I just know what”s coming.”

JT sort of chuckled. “You know what”s coming? Why are you predicting a spanking?”

“Because I”m going to make fun of you for wearing your underwear. When we were with the Hot Shots, you were the last one to take off your clothes. Are you shy, Sir?” I remembered how Mark had teased JT, questioning if JT even possessed a dick.

JT gave me a friendly single smack on the ass. “Maybe I”m shy. You be the judge. Ninety days from now, when summer is over, I”ll ask if you still think I”m shy. And you can be the judge. Meanwhile, I did promise you an all-access pass to my body, so if these clothes are in the way, just tell me.”

The truth was, JT looked glorious no matter what he was wearing. Last night, he was foxy in his Escort Konya dress clothes. He looked great in boxer shorts, partly because they made him look older and more manly, but also because they accentuated his trim physique. He was definitely tall and handsome and lithe. When his physical appearance was combined with his forceful personality, he was beginning to cause me to flutter and faint a little, on the inside.

I responded, “I am curious to learn more about how shy you are. Sir. Or how shy you aren”t. I”m glad you”re giving me ninety days to make up my mind. As for wearing this underwear, I just hope we can sleep naked together again tonight.”

“Your wish is my command,” my Sir said to me in a playful voice. “Two milkings down, Sam. One to go. Once you”ve delivered three loads in one day, you”ll be officially certified as a stud. However, this third milking is going to be a challenge for you. Have you ever tried to keep masturbating after you shoot your load?”

I had to think about it. “Yes, Sir, when I first learned to masturbate, I didn”t understand what it was, exactly. The orgasm surprised me. But it had felt so good that I kept on rubbing trying to get the feeling back. That was a mistake,” I laughed.

“I call that over-milking,” JT continued. “That”s when the cock pumping continues even after the climax is over. It”s a particular form of torment. You”ve heard of `excruciating pain.” Over-milking is a kind of `excruciating pleasure.” It will be my own pleasure, here in a few minutes, to cause you excruciating pleasure by over-milking you.”

I gulped because I had some sense of how unbearable this was going to be.

“This is going to be your first experience with real BDSM, Sam. There is going to be a little bit of bondage, and we”re even going to give you a safe word. But first, I need to put our dinner in the oven to heat up. Mom made shepherd”s pie before she left. Get off of me, and we”ll get started.” He gave my ass another single friendly smack.

Then I climbed off of JT and stood back up next to the sofa. I was going to have a lesson in over-milking and in BDSM before dinner. Once again, I was rock hard.

Wow! Does Sam even know what a “safe word” is? That”s straight ahead in the next chapter of our story.

Your feedback is very appreciated. You can write to the author at hoo. Thank you for reading, and thank you for supporting Nifty at fty/.

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