Eighteen

By Abba Dabba

Published on Jun 20, 2014

Gay

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18 - 1

This is a shitty ass theater my friends are taking me to. Paint flaking from the ceiling. Missing mirror panels on the wall. Only two boxes of candy at the snack bar. But it's the only gay porno theater around, so who cares that the carpet is stained. If things go right, we'll be adding a few stains to the carpet ourselves, though preferably not in the lobby. As we're walking to the auditorium it occurs to me no one even asked for my ID. My friends and I waited for me to turn 18 so we could all come here our first time together, and it turns out nobody gives a shit how old any of us are.

The auditorium is huge – I mean there must be a thousand seats here. None of us has ever been in this big of a movie theater in our lives. We expected a two hundred seater. Three hundred max.

"Gentlemen, change of plans," says Henry. He's standing a little in front of me so I can't see his face. He turns his head left toward the ginormous screen about twenty rows away and then toward the projection booth about another fifteen rows to our right. There's dudes all over this theater. At a guess, maybe a hundred. It's darker than a regular theater, so who can tell for sure? What we can see for sure is the fat trucker type guy slowly stroking himself about five seats away. He isn't watching the screen. He's watching the guy further down the aisle giving another dude a blowjob. Heads are bobbing. Other guys are cruising the place, passing us in the aisle without making eye contact. They sit for a few seconds then move again. Guys I can't see are doing god knows what. I knew to expect sex here but this is SEX.

"You guys have your cellphones, right?" says Henry. He flashes us a smile. "Every man for himself. Text me if you need me," he says as he walks off toward the front rows. "Just don't expect me to answer."

So now it's just me and Ramon standing in the side aisle. I'm in shock. I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought there'd be maybe twenty or thirty guys in a small shitty theater and that we'd just watch a bit of the movie, laugh at some of the lonely guys blowing each other, get horny ourselves, squeeze one out and then bail. But this... I don't know about this. And I sure as shit didn't think we'd be splitting up.

Then, as if on cue, I hear Ramon say, "Oh fuck!" He points somewhere off in the distance, snorting and laughing, then punches me in the shoulder and abandons me in pursuit of what I can't see.

Now I'm alone and some old dude cruises me. Great. Happy birthday to me, right? At least when there were three of us the creepy guys ignored us. I take my hands out of my pockets and avoid eye contact. I don't want to send the wrong signal. I back away and focus extra hard on the screen where some guy has, I kid you not, three dicks in his mouth at the same time. I'm still trying to figure out where they positioned the camera for that shot when my ass hits the back wall.

The homeless looking guy in the nearest seat looks back at me. I move down a few rows and take the first clean looking seat, which is in the middle. The rows are long, so I'm pretty far away from the homeless guy. I don't look back to make sure. I just watch the movie and try to figure out why I'm being such a pussy.

Henry, Ramon and I have talked about doing this for over a year. It's not like I'm a virgin. The three of us gave each other our first blowjobs when we were sixteen and started fucking a little after that. But so far sex has just been in my bed or Henry's garage or Ramon's patio. The closest I ever got to public sex was when Henry blew me in the school library, but that was right after it closed so nobody could have seen us. So all these guys beating off and sucking each other where anyone in the theater could walk by is just foreign to me.

I think my mom's boyfriend was right: I did not want to come here. Which is funny because he's the one who first pointed out this theater to me. One night when we were going home from another movie, Tony took his hand from the steering wheel and pointed out a grungy looking marquee with a missing letter and said, "That's one theater you don't want to go to." Mom gave him a playful shove and said, "Oh, Tony."

I looked as we passed it. "What is -- ?" but before I could finish my question, my mom interrupted.

"Never mind. You just don't want to go there." Mom started talking about how good the tacos were at the restaurant. Tony praised the guacamole and burritos. I said something about liking the quesadilla, but I was looking through the rear window at the theater, and all I remember thinking was were those guys on that poster naked? Next time I messed around with Henry and Ramon I mentioned the theater to them. And now here we are. They're somewhere out there watching guys get blown or maybe even fucking (but I doubt they do that here) or maybe even getting blown themselves, and I'm here in the back watching a movie of four guys fucking which I could just as easily watch on-line in my own bedroom.

After enough time has passed for the bottom on screen to take two loads up the ass and deliver three pizzas with free breadsticks, I finally relax. My cock's getting hard. I reach my hand down my pants then look around and stop. Some guy in a baseball cap is sitting about six seats over. When did he get there? Whatever. He doesn't pay any attention to me. He's too busy slowly jerking off. I turn back to the movie and put my hand back down my pants. They're tight, so I undo the belt, unbutton them and pull down the zipper. I let my shaft out of the jockeys and tease the head. My right hand knows me pretty well by now.

The movie's good – as good as this kind of movie gets, I suppose – but I keep glancing over at the dude in the baseball cap. On screen there are muscles and tats and assholes and a bunch of cocks fucking in close up but for some reason I'm more interested in watching one clothed dude jerk all by himself in real life. Well, I guess he's not fully clothed. His shirt is open exposing his bare chest. With his left hand he's tweeking one of his nipples. If only I could see him a little better. I move over one seat, then another. From here I can see he has a beautiful midsection. I bet when he stands, his abs are statue-perfect. And those pecs are what I wish mine looked like. The way his chest rises and drops, rises and drops, he's probably breathing pretty hard. I bet it sounds sexy. Still jerking myself off, I move closer.

There's only a single seat between hat dude and me now. From this distance I can see his nipples are thick and prominent. Not crazy, fake-big. Just big enough to squeeze and bite. I bet he looks hot in t-shirts. His cock is gorgeous. Thick, long and uncut and shiny from all the spit he's using to lube himself up. I wish I could hear him. He shifts around in his seat and pushes his pants down to his knees. His legs look great, but it's those nipples I want to feel. I reach over with my free hand and pinch one. He doesn't react. I mean, he doesn't do anything different. He just keeps jerking and pinching and breathing. Between the baseball cap being pulled down so low and the dark lighting (maybe they need a new bulb in the projector), I can't see much of his face.

I like the squish squish sound of him jerking. Combined with my own squish squish sound and the moaning and breathing blaring over the theater's sound system, I forget where I am. Right now, more than anything in the world, I need to smell him. I need my nose under his armpit, I need my teeth around his nipple, I need my tongue all over those pecs. I move to the seat right next to him.

He smells nothing like Henry or Ramon. He smells of sweat and sex. I hold his nipple between my teeth and lick it with my tongue. He switches hands so he's jerking with his left and diddling my balls with his right. He squeezes them hard – harder than Henry or Ramon ever do – and yanks down on them. The pain is so sudden (and incredible), my whole body jerks, my neck springs back and my mouth pops open. He keeps tugging and twisting my sac as he pushes his tongue into my mouth. His breath. Oh my god, his breath... It's like an on switch for my cock, getting it harder with every exhalation. My nostrils can't get enough. He lets go of his dick and puts his hand behind my head, forcing my face into his. The guy is strong.

Then he reaches for my nipple but my shirt is in the way. He fumbles with the button. I reach to help but he pushes my hand back onto his nipple. While he fumbles with the shirt, his other hand lets go of my balls and tickles my taint which makes me rise and wiggle around in my seat. He uses the opportunity to tug down my pants. When I land back on the cushion, I impale my hole on his finger. Fuck! My body's reflex is to pull away from the pain, but now he's got me by the balls – literally – and his teeth are gripping my tongue while his own tongue kisses me. His other hand just gives up on buttons, rips open my shirt and presses against my chest, driving me nuts. My hands and tongue can't get enough of him. He releases my balls and lets go of my chest. I catch my breath for a half a second and just as I go back for more he pushes me forward so I'm leaning over the seat in front of us. No. He is not going to fuck me. Just as I'm ready to punch him and break a tooth if I have to, I feel something warm and wet flick all over my hole. He's giving me a rim job and now catching my breath is prit near impossible. It feels that good. He moves my feet around so he has better access to my hole. I'm so limp, I let him pull my foot out of my shoe and pant leg. He spreads my cheeks even further.

Now that he's behind me, I look around for the first time since we started. We're being watched by about a half dozen guys. If they aren't jerking off, their mouths are just hanging open. I can tell one of them is working up the courage to put his dick in my mouth. I look away.

Then the hat guy pulls me back. Instead of ripping off my shirt, he pushes it over my head. My face is caught in the fabric. I feel him take off my other shoe and feel his arm swing past my left shoulder. He pulls me back so my naked ass is above his lap, the tip of his thick cock pushing at my hole. I'm scrambling to keep my balance and get this goddamn shirt off my face. He grabs my cock but instead of jerking it he uses it as a handle to push me down onto his own cock. There's no way it will go in as fast as he seems to think it will. My hole is tight and bottoming is difficult for me unless my hole's been generously lubed up. I can feel it pushing and pushing against my ring but nothing is happening. Then he pinches my ass and bites my neck and digs his fingers in my side and I squirm like crazy and suddenly he's in me and I am sliding down him and it is hurting like fuck and feeling so fucking incredible. I am gasping. He pulls the shirt from over my head. Finally, the claustrophobic feeling of my head and arms trapped in the shirt is gone. I can feel his pubes tickling my ass. I'm all the way down. I clinch my ass and release. Clinch and release. I can feel the vein in his cock throb with his heartbeat. With one hand he rubs my chest, pressing my back into his chest, his teeth buried in my neck. His other hand crumbles my shirt into a tiny tight ball – and then the fucker throws it.

Shit!

My shirt goes flying above the seats. Common sense says the ball should fall apart and the shirt should go only a few rows, but this shirt stays in a ball for what looks like fifty feet before it drops out of my vision. Shit, that's my shirt. How am I going to go home? I'm squirming, struggling to get off of him, but he holds me down. It's aggressive fucking. If I weren't so worried about the shirt, I could actually enjoy myself. Then he bites the other side of my neck and I get woozy again and forget about the shirt.

My head lolls. I'm looking at the ground as I gasp for breath. Where are my shoes? He lifts up my pants with his foot. No, he can't! I reach for the pants but he's able to keep them away from me. His right arm swings out away from me and my pants sail across the theater. Along with my keys, my wallet, my phone. I have no idea where they land.

I need that stuff. Now. Yes, getting fucked by this asshole feels incredible, but right now, more than anything else in the world, what I need is my clothes. I swing back and twist around but only get so far. He's gripping me that much tighter and his entire body shivers. I can feel his cock pump inside me, but I still swing and try to get loose. Finally he lets go of me and I'm off of him and running.

The only way out is past the guys who've been watching us but there's no time to think about how vulnerable I am right now. I slip in a wet spot and run toward the front of the theater completely naked. There's Ramon getting a blowjob. I run up to him but see too late it isn't Ramon. He's Ramon only if Ramon is forty and white which he isn't. The white guy looks me up and down and smiles. The one on his knees blowing him is annoyed but then sees me. He stands up, indicating I'm welcome to join the party. I hold up my hands and back away. The blower gets back on his knees and picks up where he left off.

A drop of something hits the back of my leg. Hat dude's cum. Great. Fucking great.

Some dude's jacket looks like my shirt, but I don't notice my mistake until I'm practically in his lap. I'm writing off the shoes. I don't need them. I don't even need the shirt and I'll write off the wallet, keys and phone. All I want, all I need, is my fucking pants so I can get the hell out of here and put this shitty birthday behind me. I am so screwed.

Crying out for Henry and Ramon does no good. The movie is louder than ever. It sounds like sexual moaning overdubbed about twenty times, so the whole place sounds like, well... I guess a thousand people having sex moaning right in your ear.

I'm standing before the front row, waving my arms. My friends have to see me. Unless they're out there having a good time and not looking toward the screen. Then some dude says, "Missing something?"

Yes. Three seats away a dude is holding up something. My wallet. I grab for it but he yanks it just out of my reach. He wants to know what his reward is. Then he licks his lips real slow and looks down at his cock. He strokes it a few times then smiles and dangles the wallet between his fingers. Damn it. I don't have time but I don't have much choice. I drop to my knees and get to work. It's best not to think about what I'm kneeling in. This fucker's playing Keep Away with his cock, pulling it to one side or another just as my lips reach it, so my tongue is chasing it right and left. He laughs the way pervs always laugh in movies. I bet movie directors research that shit personally. After what feels like forever, the laughing perv takes pity on me and stops moving his cock away. My face runs right into it then it's in my mouth. I'm frantic to get this done, but this guy's in no hurry. His hand keeps my head from ever pulling off his member. Just as I rise to the top, he pushes me down again.

"Mmm, Daddy like..." Daddy? Dad's dead, motherfucker. You're just an asshole on a power trip. Of course I can't say that – my mouth's full. He's thicker than Henry or Ramon, but not as long, so it's not impossible to fit most of it inside. I suck him for a little while, licking up his shaft, wrapping my tongue around the top. I wipe the tip on my lips. I bury my nose in his pubes. I have one hand wrapped around his cock or squeezing his balls and my other hand stroking my own cock.

When did he let go of my head? His cock has gotten me so horny I forget about my clothes and just go to town. I'm almost there myself when I feel him hardening up. His moans get louder. "Ah geez – ah geez! – ah geez!!" I try to back off but he holds me in place so his load lands in my mouth. Spurt, spurt, spurt. Ah, man, that is nice...

But when he finishes, I instantly come to my senses. Cum dripping from my mouth, I grab the wallet from his hand then stop and look at him. He smiles and shrugs. "Never said it was your wallet, now did I?"

Fucker.

I'd kick him in the nuts, but right now I just need my clothes, so, hornier than ever and more desperate than ever, I cross the theater toward the side aisle. My cock bounces up against my abdomen poking me, basically asking, "What about me? What about me?" If I could only curb this horniness maybe I'd think clearer. I have to find my clothes right now, but, man, I have to cum, too. So instead of committing to a single task, I try to do both. You think patting your head while rubbing your tummy is tricky? Try jerking off while running.

I stumble into some guy's lap. Looking back, maybe he tripped me. Whatever. He takes my cock from me and says, "Looks like somebody needs help." What this somebody needs is pants. But before I can pull away, he's got my cock in his mouth. His other hand is squeezing my balls almost as tightly as hat dude had squeezed them earlier. Just thinking about hat dude gets me breathing quicker. I know he was – is – an asshole for what he's done to me, but all I'm really thinking is how his breath felt on my face and how his cock felt up my ass. Meanwhile this dude working my cock slurps away and sucks and sucks and teases and I so, so badly want to shoot – but then I see Henry.

He's walking up the side aisle toward the door where we came in. I pull away from the dude sucking me. Yes, I need to shoot, but I need Henry more. Henry's looking the other way as I hurry up the aisle. Finally. Help at last. I call his name but he can't hear me.

As I go up the aisle, I hear a "Hey!" and glance to the side. There's a patch of white. It's a bare ass in the aisle seat pointing right at me, cheeks spread. Some Asian kid's looking back over his shoulder and his own naked ass right at me. He licks his lips and raises his eyebrow and then – the little fucker – he puckers his hole. It just winks at me. I can't look away. In my peripheral vision, it looks like Henry is checking his phone. He leans against the wall. He's not going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe I have time...

The kid touches my leg with his hand. It's all the contact I need to get started. I turn and my cock, still sloppy wet from the bj I aborted, pokes right in this kid's hole. As I push in, another dude's load is squeezed out. I've never seen that before and, fuck, the sight of it could make the dead horny. I just pump and pump. The kid's some sort of power-bottom, milking my cock, letting me out only so far and then sucking me back in. His skin is beautiful. I pinch his ass. I lean over, reach around and squeeze his nipples. I look to the aisle. Ramon is with Henry. Yes. The kid twists. Fuck! What did he just do? His hand reaches back and pulls me into him. He twists his head and kisses me. This kid is an amazing fuck. I need to try some of these moves with the guys when we get home. The kid's tongue is in my ear. His hand is squeezing my balls. How is he everywhere at once? How do I lose such track of time? I hear someone saying "Oh fuck me!!" and realize it's me that's talking and I'm cumming and pounding right into the kid. Jizz flows out of his hole as I add more to it. Henry and Ramon are leaving and I'm still shooting. Henry and Ramon are around the corner now. Is my cum never going to stop? I pull out of the kid, but he seems to know I'm trying to get free and isn't about to let it happen. His ass clamps down on me, forcing me back into him. I'm fucking him but need to get away but need to fuck but need to get away but need to fuck and fuck and I've never been this worked up before in my life and when I finish I collapse on him and still his ass holds onto my cock.

And Henry and Ramon are gone.

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckittyfuckfuckFUCK!!

I yank free of this slut and run for the door, cum dripping from my cock. Probably cum still dripping from my mouth thanks to the blowjob I gave earlier, who knows? By the time I get to the lobby, my friends are gone. All I see are cars driving past the tinted windows. No one can see in, so no one can see I'm standing in the middle of a theater lobby totally naked looking like a total fucking I-don't-know-what.

Except the guard. The big dude just stares at me. I beg for help – I need clothes desperately. He puts his hand on my hip and walks me to some upstairs office. It's grungy and dark and I don't care. I tell him everything so I guess it makes sense he's rubbing himself as I talk. If I heard my story, I'd be playing with myself. I conclude with, "So I really, really need your help."

He stands and opens a door. He nods and says, "This way." Finally, help. I follow him. It's a long hall leading away from the theater. Thank god. That's the last place I want to go. I tell him all I want is a pair of shorts or something. When I get home, I'll get in my own clothes and bring back whatever he lends me. I'll gladly pay. Anything.

He doesn't say a word. He opens a door and then a barred gate leading to a darkened hallway. He steps aside for me to go first so I do. As soon as I pass him, I hear the gate close behind me. I do an about-face and see him turn a key. "Hey!" I say but he just walks away. He doesn't even close the door. Whatever lights are on go out.

I turn back and that's when I realize I'm not in a hallway or room. I'm in a cage. A very small cage that's getting smaller. Bars on all four sides push against me, holding me in place.

That's when I first hear the footsteps. And the breathing. And feel the hands. And the cocks. Things happen to me in the cage I can't stop from happening. Like cocks going in my mouth and ass. Mouths biting my arms and pits and neck. Cum landing on my flesh. I desperately need to piss and, knowing I have no choice, just do, and some guy says "Ahhhhh!" Later, some dude pisses on me. Another guy forces me to drink his piss. It's one indignity after another and my cock stays hard the whole time. I'm scared out of my fucking mind and my cock and my ass and my mouth – my whole body – just want more.

Time passes. Minutes? Hours? I hear myself say something about being hungry. Some voice tells me that means I need more cum. Cum is loaded with protein; to keep up my strength I need to swallow more.

I know I fell asleep at least twice. I know I took a dump and some guy cried while he licked my ass clean and thanked me.

Life as I knew it is over. I am nothing more than a caged animal.

And then I shift around and bump into the gate. It opens. I stagger down the hall, still naked and smelling of piss and cum and shit. The guard is in the little office. He just shakes his head with disgust and says, "Act like a whore, you get treated like one." I tell him it wasn't my fault – that none of it was my fault – but he doesn't listen. He tosses me a pair of basketball shorts, a loose t-shirt and a pair of ancient running shoes. I put them on, not caring that I'm not clean. I just want clothes. All the while I thank him. I just want this nightmare over. I start out and he says not so fast.

He puts a thick chain around my neck and snaps it together with a heavy padlock. It's the kind of thing used to lock up bicycles, not drape around a human being's neck. I start to object but he says it's to make sure I bring back the clothes. "For extra insurance, I'll hold on to these, too." He holds up my phone and wallet. They've been found - yes! He tosses me my keys so I can get in my house and tells me I can have the rest of my stuff when I return the clothes. It's only when I'm home that I realize he never made a promise about the chain around my neck.

At home, Mom is in the kitchen. I try to sneak up to my room without her hearing, but moms hear everything. "Is that you, honey?"

"Yeah, I'll be right down." I see Mom's foot entering the living room. I race upstairs before she can see me. "Must have been some birthday party" is the last thing I hear her say before I get in my room and lock the door behind me. I start the shower and strip off the clothes. I toss them in the trashcan, then remember I need to return them, so pull them out. I step into the shower and as I close the door I catch my reflection in the mirror. Jesus. I walked the streets looking like that? I don't want to see any more. I shut the shower door and wash the nightmare away.

When I go back downstairs, the table is set for dinner. So I've been gone almost 20 hours at least. I hope to forget all 20 of them. Maybe some day I will.

Mom brings out some chicken and rice. I'm starved and start serving myself. "We wait in this house," she says, slapping my hand. Sorry. She tells me to get the green beans from the kitchen. I get up from the table and start for the kitchen but she calls me back. She's looking at me weird. Looking at my neck.

"What's that?"

She's seen the chain. There's no hiding it from her, so I pull down the collar of my t-shirt. The lie comes out of my mouth so easily, I'm amazed. Must be some survival instinct. I tell her we were playing a few stupid frat pranks and the guys thought it was funny to make me go home like this. "They're real jerks sometimes," I say, actually laughing while I say it, but all the while scared to death.

Mom just laughs and shakes her head and says, "You boys."

The green beans are still on the stove. I transfer them to a bowl. When I turn back to the stove to return the empty pot, I bump into Mom's boyfriend, Tony. I didn't even know he was here, but I should have. We only have a "sit down" meal when we have company and Tony's still considered company.

"You're going to have to tell us what you guys were up to the last three days," he says with a wink.

My mind reels. Three days? Days?! Oh my god... Tony's saying something about turning 18 only once so you might as well do it right and boys will be boys and he wishes he were still 18 and how he's glad at least I didn't drink and drive. "You didn't, did you?"

Huh? What?

"Drink and drive. You didn't, did you?" He almost looks like he's going to get pissed off at me. I tell him I didn't. I tell him I stayed in all weekend. Which is true, in a way. I'm so numb, I don't know what I'm saying. Then Tony looks at my neck and squints. I give him the same story I gave Mom about the frat prank. Tony says, "Ahhh," and nods, understanding. "Y'know, in some circles, that's a sexual kind of thing."

"Really?" Maybe my laugh sounds more genuine to him than it does to me. "I thought that was just made-up bullshit," I say. I sound calm. I don't know how, but I do.

"Yeah," says Tony. He touches the lock and scrutinizes it. I want to pull away, I feel so uncomfortable, but there's nowhere to go. "Quality," he says, examining it. "Yeah, in that world, the guy wearing the chain collar is the slave..." He turns the lock over in his hand and peers at the bottom of it. He reads the manufacturer's name. I just want him to go away. He gives the lock a little tug. "And whoever has the key is the master."

"Really?" I say. God, I'm trying to hold it together, but it is hard.

"Yeah. The slave is the property of whoever has the key. He has to do whatever the master/owner says. It's a whole underworld," he says. "Weird."

"Sounds it," I say.

The next thing I know, the lock is in his hand. Open. Not on the chain. "Huh," he says, looking at the lock, smiling. He looks at me, still smiling. "What do you know?"

I'm paralyzed, body and brain. I have no words. Tony locks the lock back onto the chain around my neck, only tighter this time. Still smiling, he picks up a basket of rolls and turns toward the dining room calling out, "Anything else, hon?"

I hear my mom's voice: "Oh, bring some butter, would you?"

Without looking back, Tony says to me, "You want to grab the butter on your way out with the green beans?" He picks up some salt and pepper, puts on a familiar baseball cap and exits to the dining room with the dinner rolls.

I hear Mom laugh and say, "Get that thing off! We don't wear hats in the house, especially at dinner."

Tony laughs and says, "Sor-ry." I hear them kiss. All I can do is swallow. And as I do, I feel the chain squeeze tighter against my throat.

-=-=-=-=-

All feedback is invited, so please share your reaction. Thanks.

Please check out my other stories found in the Prolific Authors section. Some are here:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/little-dude-series/

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/stuck-in-the-closet

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-hand

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-convertible

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/nice-guy

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/jockstrap

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/naughty-santa

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/whisper

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/party-guest

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/boys-of-sunny-hills

Next: Chapter 2


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