The Birthday Boy
by Bud Clark

I met this dude playing a music gig. We got to be friends, but we never fucked. I figured, what the shit, he's twenty, and I'm forty, and that's that.

It wasn't.

He came over to practice every Friday afternoon, and it always took about three hours - one hour of practicing, and two hours of bullshitting, drinking coffee, and talking sex. And it was always kinky sex.

Finally, after about six months of this, I decided to invite him to a meeting of the Friday Night Handball Association for his twenty-first birthday. The FNHA consists of about six super-hot dudes who get together every week for a fisting orgy. It's sort of a moveable feast. We usually play at the local tubs, however, and anybody who's hot enough to catch our interest will generally be permitted into the sling room - almost always bottom men. The top men in this town are few and far between and have well-established rep. Occasionally, somebody passes through who has all the making of a top - but that's another chapter.

Anyway, Brad arrived on his birthday dressed in cutoffs and a tank top and sneakers. He started unpacking his music like usual.

"Nope. We're not gonna practice today," I announced.

He started to get a little nervous. "What're we gonna do?"

"You're gonna do about three quarts of hot, soapy water up yer ass - and then we're going to a party!"

I'd already figured out that this dude had the makings of a real obedient little bottom, so I just ignored his protests and started setting up the gear in the john.

While I was running the water, he wandered in, sporting a big hard-on under his cutoffs and said, "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Right. Strip!"

He took off his clothes real slow, like he really dreaded what was coming. But they hard-on he was showing said otherwise.

He was just as hot stripped down as I knew he would be - even though I'm usually of the opinion that sex is wasted on anybody under thirty-five. Brad's one of those natural California kids - not one spare ounce of fat, everything defined from playing hard rather than working out, thick, eight-inch cock (cut, unfortunately, but you can't have everything), light dusting of hair on his pecs, stomach, and up the asscrack, a killer tan, still a little bit gangly and coltish, and obviously nervous as hell, standing there stripped down in my john with a steaming enema bag hanging over his head.

He asked all sorts of questions like, "How much is it gonna hurt?" and "Do I have to take the whole thing?" and "You aren't really gonna make me hold it in, are you?" and stuff like that. But I just ignored him.

"Ok, down on your knees, ass up, head down," I ordered.

He got down, and a few whacks on his bare ass incited him to do as I had commanded. I sat on the edge of the tub and started greasing him up - real slow and real thorough. That captured his attention! Finally, I showed him the nozzle and told him where it was going. He took a long look at the phallic shaped contraption, and then out his head down and sort of sighed.

"The next sound you hear will be a click. That'll be me, releasing the catch on the hose. The next thing you'll feel will be all that hot soapy water going up your asshole. Lose any, and I'll beat yer ass. Got it?"

"Yessir"

That was nice! No prompting. Just "Yessir" right off the bat.

Click!

After a couple of minutes he groaned sort of low in his throat and started pushin' his ass back against the nozzle, real shy-like.

Hmm! Can't hate it too much., I thought to myself.

'Bout that time he let out a yelp, and I quickly shut the clamp.

"Just relax, man. The cramps'll go away in a little bit."

I started massaging his hard belly, and after a few minutes I felt him relax. I turned the clamp loose real quietly so he didn't know it was starting again, but after a few more minutes, he started squirming around and begging me to stop.

"Oh man, I gotta go so bad! Please turn it off!"

He didn't know it, but he already had about two and a half quarts up his ass - which is plenty for the first time around.

"Put yer head down and fuckin' take it. You're gonna hold it until I say, or I'm gonna belt yer ass till you can't even sit down to shit."

I waited until he was really strung out. Then I helped him op and planted him on the john and started chewin' on his tits to take his mind off what was goin' on down at the other end. Man this kid had nice nips!

Anyway, after about ten minutes of heavin' and groanin' and getting' his pecs worked over, he looked up and me real shy like. "Uh, you're gonna make me, uh, do it again, aren't you, uh, Sir?"

"You catch on real quick. Yeah, and you're gonna keep doin' it till it comes out clean. Don't want any of the dudes to get their arms messy."

He sort of gulped, but that fuckin' cock of his looked like it was gonna explode. So I swatted it semi-hard and told him to get back into position.

"Ow! Yessir! I'm goin', Sir!"

He looked behind him kind of half-scared and watched me grease up the inflatable nozzle.

"Uh, Sir, uh, what does that do, Sir?"

"It goes up yer ass! Then the balloon inflates so that the water all stays in until I decide to turn it loose."

"Oh, God. It's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

"No pain, no gain. Now reach back and spread 'em."

Taking all this nozzle and getting it fully inflated is first cousin to takin' a fist - except that it goes in small and then gets big. As Brad soon found out.

"Owwww! Take it easy, man!"

Whack!

"Say what?"

"Ow! Sorry Sir. Please, take it easy - Sir!"

"That's better, and no, I won't 'take it easy, Sir.' You gotta stretch more than that if you wanna go arm-riding tonight."

"Oh, please Sir! I don't think I can take any more! Owwwwwwww!"

This last groan came just as I gave the bulb a final squeeze.

"Flip over on your back, and then put your legs up on me. I want this one to go deep."

I dragged his legs up on me until he was almost upside down, with just his shoulders resting on the floor and his legs up under my armpits.

"Stretch your arms straight out above your head. I want that hot water to have a straight line to travel."

He did and closed his eyes to wait for what was coming next. I like extended enema scenes as well as the next man, but this was Friday night, and I still had to shave him and get myself cleaned out and head us to the party. So, when in doubt, give ''m high, hot, and a helluva lot, a couple of times, and quickly get on with business.

His second ride on the hose was just with plain hot water - as hot as I could put my hand on - top flush the soap and the rest of whatever was up there out, quick and efficient-like.

"You be real good and take all of this and hold it (he didn't have much choice with that goddamned balloon up his asshole!), and we'll call it clean - for now."

He looked up at me with those hot, wet gray eyes and nodded silently.

Whap!

"Yessir! Thank you, Sir!"

"That's better shithead. Now lose your fuckin' mind. Here it comes."

I turned the water loose, maintaining a good grip on his legs. Hell, he wasn't going any-fuckin'-where.

It's amazing how many dudes get into this scene, given a situation where they don't really have much choice. And pretty soon, he was thrashin' around and tryin' to kick and squirm. But in that position he didn't have a whole lot of room to maneuver. I was watchin' the bag shrink and his washboard stomach swell up. I got a good three quarts in when the bag ran dry. He had obviously reached that place where pleasure and pain were just about in balance.

"Ok, fucker, now just relax and hold it for awhile."

I started to stroke his steel-hard cock. Then I leaned down and started nuzzlin' his fuzzy, tight little nuts. He moaned way back in his throat - you know, that kind of helpless sound that a due makes just when a hard cock first goes right up his ass.

After about ten minutes, I figured enough's enough and slowly set him down. Then I took him under the arms and hoisted him up and planted him on the john again. I had a hold of the release valve of the nozzle; the shift in position got to him.

"Please, Sir I gotta go real bad!"

"Gonna be just as hot comin' out as it was going' in."

"Yessir, I know, Sir. Please let it out, Sir!"

This last came out almost as a yelp, so I twisted the valve, and a few seconds later, plop. Out came the balloon followed by a torrent of hot water.

"Aaarrrggghhh!!!"

I left him to deal with that and sat on the edge of the tub clipping my nails. After awhile, he came back from his little trip, and the "penny" dropped.

"You're gonna...uh...are you doin' that...because of why I think you're doin' that, Sir?"

"Very good, kid. You catch on fast. Here, check 'em out."

I held out my hand and he ran his fingers over the ends of mine, real hesitant-like.

"Nah. Use your tongue, asshole. You can't tell shit with just your fuckin' fingers."

Wow! Like, that really got him goin', and pretty soon he was nursin' on my fingers like a hungry colt.

"Oh God, you're gonna...you're gonna put those..."

"Up your fuckin' ass, kid. So you'd better be sure they're real smooth."

I figured it was 'bout time for me to get cleaned out, so I hopped in the shower and started adjusting he temp on the hose. The kid was watchin' me with huge eyes.

"That for me, Sir?"

"Maybe. I gotta clean my butt out too. Climb in here and give me a hand"

There isn't much that I do to a dude's ass that hasn't been done to mine at some point. I don't have any hang-ups about top and bottom and all that shit. If it feels good, do it, and fuck what the purists think. Anyway, I know very few handball or enema devotees that don't go both ways - at least occasionally.

So anyway, he was just standin' there with the shower shot in his hand like he didn't know what to do with it.

"Hell, you need a fuckin' diagram? Put the fucker up my ass, unless you want some more."

I grabbed the towel rack and stuck my butt out for the nozzle. He eased it in real slow. Goddamn! There's nothin' I like better than a slow, hot douche - except for a man's arm. He started playin' with my nips and my cock. I just kept quiet and concentrated on the incoming water.

"Want me to take it out?"

"I'll let you know."

About five minutes of silence, and then he couldn't stand it.

"How much are you gonna take?"

"Relax, kid; I've had a little more practice than you."

Actually, I could tell to the fucking ounce how much had gone up my ass, and I knew I was getting' pretty full, so I pulled off the hose and hit the john.

"Wash yer ass off and come here. I wanna eat you while I dump this load."

He gulped, scrubbed his hole off, and came over and stood in front of me, still hesitant-like.

"Turn around. Bend over and spread 'em. Let me see where my hand's gonna go later."

Anybody else out there into pretty assholes? This one was fuckin' gorgeous. And tight - even after a couple of enemas and the big nozzle. But my tongue wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

Pretty soon he was growlin' real piggy and spreadin' his cheeks, and grinding back on my face like hell wouldn't have any - all of which wasn't doing shit for my hornies.

"Go get a chair out of the kitchen"

He turned around and looked at me in surprise. "Huh?"

Whap!

"I said go get a fuckin' chair. We got a little barbering to do on you."

That made him nervous, but he quickly did what I told him. I spread my legs and set the chair in front of the john and slapped a rubber on my cock.

"Ok, sit down, and then slide your butt down so it's on the edge of the john."

He caught the idea real fast - like, the only place for my cock to go was up his ass. That would keep him nice and hard while I cropped his bush and shaved his balls. The angle was a little awkward, but I coulda stayed in his butt all night. Finally I had his bush down to a regulation crew cut and his balls baby-assed smooth as far down as I could reach.

"All right, pull off and turn over. Gotta shave your asshole. Don't want any of those hairs to get all tangled and pull. Your ass is gonna be a high-traffic area tonight!"

He bent over the seat of the chair and glanced back half-fearfully as I ordered him to spread his cheeks and started shaving his crack. But he held himself still throughout the entire process.

Then we both hopped in the shower and did a couple of slow, gentle rinse-outs together. He laid his head on my chest and took slow, deep breaths while the warm water slowly filled his now-relaxed ass.

"Feel good?"

He nodded silently. Then he looked up at me.

"I was scared at first....I really thought I'd hate it. But, it's like....having you crawl inside me."

"We'll get to that. Let's get dried off....I've got a little surprise for you in the bedroom."

Now, I'd been planning this little assault on his head/ass for quite awhile, so I'd gone and bought him a couple of things for his birthday - a leather vest and a simple body harness....nothing below the waist except a cockring to hold it in place. No point in more - once we arrived at the party anything below his belt-line would only stay in for about five minutes anyway.

I helped him into the body harness. I had barely maneuvered his nuts through the cockring when up came that fucker again!

"Like that, huh?"

"Oh, wow, yes, Sir!"

"We'll leave the harness for the buttplug here at home. You can wear it sometime when you go dancing - or whatever it is you kids do on the weekends."

I pulled on Levi's, boots, and vest, and Brad put on his cutoffs. We didn't have any boots for him, but barefooted he looked even younger, so I just let it go at that.

The party was already in full swing when we got there. I actually had to bang on the door of the sling room two or three times to get the fuckers to open up.

"Who the fuck is it?"

"Yer goddamned grandfather - with some fresh mean, asshole! Open the fuck up!"

The door popped open, and a hot, bearded dude by the name of Chuck bounced out, wearing nothing but a shit-eating grin, a pair of surgical gloves, and a couple layers of grease.

"Who's this - the sacrificial virgin? Hey, guys, light the sacramental candles!"

Actually the candles were already lit. I dragged the kid in and introduced him around. I figured it wasn't cook not to know the names connected to the arms that were gonna connect with Brad's asshole.

The sling was occupado. It held the hairy dude with the moustache. I recognized him from Chuck's "family album" of polaroids, but I'd never played with him before.

"Hi, Jay," I said by way of greeting.

"Oh-my-aching-ass! It's the social columnist from the Homo Herald!"

"Don't I rate a 'hello' kiss?"

"I can't kiss yer ass through yer goddamned Levi's!"

Well, I've never been one to stand on ceremony. I peeled off my Levi's in a second and climbed up and straddled Jay's surprised face. I stretched out on top of him and pulled his bull-balls out of the way so I could watch Chuck slide his arm back into place. That little piece of action provided me with some righteous rimming on the other end of the sling.

Meanwhile the kid was looking a little bit lost. Jay was bucking his hips like he wanted to come, so I gave him a hand, and that was that - all over my back, Chuck's chest, and most of that side of the sling room.

"Hey, kid! Get your butt up here!"

Jay and Chuck staggered off to the showers to scrub up, and the kid climbed up on the bed with his back to the sling. Before he knew what hit him, four sets of strong arms lifted him up and back, and had fastened the wrist and ankle restraints before he even had time to think about it. He looked a little panicked, so I stretched out on top of him and started talking to him, real soft and slow-like. Rich (my non-resident other half) and Randy (Chuck's steady fuck) took that to mean we were into a set of mixed doubles. And before I knew it, Randy was wrist-deep in me, and Rich was just about getting there with the kid.

"Breathe slow and deep, kid. Rich knows what he's doin'."

I really had to concentrate with this hot kid squirming around and grinding his cock against me. Every time I'd start to lift off a little, that'd only drive Randy's hand a little deeper, and then I'd go nuts and start grindin' all over again. Finally I called a halt.

"Randy, let me up. The kid can't even breathe with me on top of him. Besides, I wanna see his face when he plays his first game of handball."

"Okay, kid," I continued, "since it's your first time, you get to pick the hand. Who do you want? Size don't matter - if your head's into it, you'll be able to take any one of us!"

"Please, Sir, I want it to be you."

"Thought you might."

The rest of the troops gathered 'round the sling and started a low massage-slap-lick-pinch-stretch number. I slipped on a pair of gloves and held my hands up so he could see me greasing them.

"Okay, take slow, deep breaths through your mouth. I'm gonna start with just a couple of fingers. I'll let you know when you're ready to get down to business."

His butt was already pretty relaxed, so I ran through an abbreviated version of the standard stretching exercises. Pretty soon his asshole was pullin' on my hand, and I knew it was time.

"Take some more deep breaths. Then, when I push in, you push out. Guys, undo his feet so he can bicycle. Kid, pull one knee up to your chest and stretch the other leg straight out, and then switch. Now, if I manage to get in, I'll hold absolutely still until you become used to it, so don't freak on me. It'll burn at first, but then it gets good. Hell, it gets wonderful!"

Rich grinned at me. "You oughta know."

About five minutes later everything lined up. The kid's eyes were closed, so I signaled to the others to get a grip. A quick but controlled shove, and then it was in!"

"Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Don't move it! Please hold still!"

"No problem. Just relax and get used to it."

Now his ass was actually suckin' my hand up further and ballin' it into a fist. So I just et nature take its course. Only after he settled down did I start with a few basic moves. His cock was leakin' like a faucet; of course he couldn't reach it.

Rule number one - never let the bottom-man have access to his cock. He comes, and it's all over!

"Open your eyes and look at me, man. My fuckin' hand's in your fuckin' ass! How does it feel?"

"It feels like a fuckin' freight train!" He groaned huskily, obviously lovin' it.

"Like it?"

"I dunno..."

"Well, let's find out."

I practically put him on the ceiling with a few more wrist twists and turns. He yelled a lot, but "stop" apparently wasn't in his vocabulary.

"Rich, climb over my arm and put your cock up in there. I wanna jack you off inside the kid's ass."

We heard a few objections and protests over that, but pretty soon Brad was groovin' on it. 'Bout that time my asshole started talkin' to me. Brad got the idea real fast. His arm went up my ass bout the same time my cock went up Rich's ass. We kept that up till our cum was flying, spraying, and spurting everywhere! Finally, my legs gave out.

We turned the kid loose and piled onto the bed.

"So how does it feel, dude? You're a fistfucker!"

"I'll show you how it feels! Get your fuckin' ass in the sling, Sir!"

Well, I never was one to wait for opportunity to knock twice!

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Originally published in Manscape Magazine, November, 1990