My sixteenth year was the most miserable of my life. In fact, I could say it was the only miserable year. I had just begun to realize that I was different than the other boys my age that I knew. There was a new boy in my class named Calvin, and I had a crush on him.

Calvin was a country boy from Oklahoma who was a year older, having been held back a year. His family had had a farm that had failed, and his father had moved to our state to try to find work. Calvin was taller than me and had the body of an eighteen-year-old who had worked hard for most of those years. He had sandy blond hair that went in every direction and a long but handsome face. He was also somewhat a wise-ass, which I think was part of the attraction.

Let me pause here to give a description of myself at this time, as that will be important later in this story. I hadn’t achieved all of my growth yet, was skinny, wore my slightly curly hair really long with bangs, and was pretty much geeky- looking.

One day in history class, (a class which Calvin wasn’t in, for some unremembered reason) I had to take a leak really bad. I got permission from the teacher (a man) and went to pee. By the time I got to the boys' bathroom, I also had a roaring woody. I stood at the urinal trying to pee and stroking my dick. The dick-stroking had become more intense when the door opened and in came Calvin. For some unknown reason, he chose the urinal next to mine and pulled out his dick. I, of course, couldn’t refrain from stealing a quick glance.

What I saw was the biggest dick I had ever seen up to then. But to be honest, I had seen very few – only those of my fellow classmates in gym class. Well, I couldn’t keep from looking again, and again. I guess my glances had become too long and too obvious.

Calvin looked at me and said, “What the hell are you looking at?” Then he noticed my boner and said something like, “Why you little freak. You’re queer.”

I fled the bathroom, tucking my dick back into my pants as I ran down the hall, all thoughts of having to pee gone.

The next few days were horrible. I dreaded going to school each morning. I couldn’t look at Calvin, but when I did, in my mind he was sneering at me. I wondered if he had told any of his buddies or if everyone in my class knew… or everyone in our small one-high-school town.

Here I need to tell you Calvin had a brother named Carl, who was four years older. I had seen him around town and knew he barely resembled Calvin. He was taller, heavier, had darker hair and wasn’t quite as good looking, although I don’t mean he wasn’t attractive in his own way.

My dad loved to tinker around the house, doing repairs, building things and doing gardening. He was a regular at the hardware store. On Saturday my dad asked me to take the hedge clippers to Thompson’s Hardware Store to have them sharpened. Mr. Thompson took them to the back of the store and gave them to an employee.

A few minutes later he called out, “Carl, I’m going to the bank. When you’re finished sharpening those, come up here and mind the front of the store.”

I wandered around looking at all the interesting things that a general hardware store contains.

In a few minutes, the guy in the back brought me the clippers. I was mortified to see it was Calvin’s brother. He wrote out the receipt and asked for the name.

I told him my father’s, Virgil Thorenson, and he said, “Oh yeah, you’re the little queer that put the make on my brother.”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true. It hit the intended target, and I didn’t know where to run or hide. I couldn’t get away since he was still holding my clippers, and he proceeded to make a few more comments about me being a deviant.

I grabbed the clippers and ran out of the store, leaving the money Dad had given me laying on the counter. I later told him I’d lost the change on the way home and endured his scolding.

Over the following months, they both continued to mock me and make crude accusations. They called me names, some of which I didn’t know what they meant, but knew were demeaning. My miserable life became even more miserable, and I wanted to die.

My saving came in a strange and tragic way. My parents separated and later divorced, my mother took me and we moved to Chicago, where she changed back to her maiden name and changed my last name to match hers. I continued to grow up, go through physical changes, and come completely out. The changes were rather dramatic. I grew to six feet, gained a nice body (through working out), cut my hair to a very short buzz cut, and got a nice-sized cock.

Shortly before I turned twenty-four, my mother died suddenly. Then I got news that my father, (who was only sixty-six) was seriously ill, and decided to move back to care for him. He was suffering from early-onset dementia and needed constant watching. I must admit, my mind was full of thoughts about Calvin and his brother.

Instead of forgetting about them, over the years I had grown bitter and hated them for the way they had treated me. I determined that I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had done something to humiliate them, and I devised a convoluted plan.

I did some nosing around and found out that they were both still living in town, that neither was married, (Carl was divorced) and where they worked and hung out. Calvin spent a lot of time in a country-style bar playing pool. I started going there, struck up a conversation, challenged him to a game and within a couple of weeks had made a “new” friend. He had no idea who I was, though once he did say that I looked familiar. I said I got that often. I had that kind of face.

It seemed that the women who frequented that bar were on to his bull-shit and didn’t want much to do with him, which meant no girlfriend. Despite his good looks, he hadn’t gained any social graces, and he still wasn’t too bright.

After several weeks, a time much longer than I had expected to be associating with him, one night we had gone out drinking and playing pool. When the bar closed he wasn’t ready to call it a night and invited me back to his place, a run-down one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town.

After a couple of beers, when topics of conversation had been pretty much exhausted, and we noticed that the TV, which was on but we had not been watching, had gone blank, I asked if he had any porn videos. (This was at the time CDs were just catching on, at least in our town, and people still clung to their VCRs.)

He said, “Shit no. I wish I did. I don’t know where you would find any in this berg.”

I said, “Hey, I just remembered I might have a couple I bought long ago in Chicago in the trunk of my car if they’re still there.”

He said, “Hell, well go look, buddy.”

I went down to the car and got out the two cassettes I had ordered over the internet a few weeks before.

These were really cheap productions, the first one consisting of outtakes from other videos of cum shots: guys shooting off on women’s faces, lips, tongues, tits and upturned asses. It was only about forty-five minutes long, but I noticed that for almost all of that forty-five minutes Cal (as he now called himself) kept touching his crotch, and uttering little “ Wow's" and “Shit's."

We had continued drinking beers and were both getting a little high. I popped in the second tape, (Cal had been reluctant to stand up) which started with ads for other tapes which featured women leering at the camera while spreading open the lips of their cunts, and sticking their fingers into their pussies. Then the main feature started in which two men (both middle-aged) had sex with one woman.

She sucked one while the other fucked her, then switched. One fucked her pussy while the other rammed his cock up her ass. Then she took both of their cocks in her fuck hole at the same time. All of this was shot from every possible angle while they moved into every possible position. There was no sound, both the focus and color were off and it was all boring as hell. That is, to me. I could see Cal’s cock was rock hard and straining to get out of his pants, and he couldn’t keep his hand off it.

I pretended to be turned-on and said something like I had to get my rocks off and would he mind if I jacked off there and then. He said hell no and that was a great idea. He pulled his cock out and I was sure it had grown after that first time I had seen it. But then again, that was eight years ago, and it hadn’t been hard then. But it was without a doubt a big and beautifully formed cock.

I pulled mine out, but Cal didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t completely erect. I could tell he was pretty wasted by now. I kept playing with myself and concentrating on his so I would get hard. He was slowly sliding his hand up and down the full length while watching the action on the screen.

I said, “Cal, let me do something buddy,” and reached over and replaced his hand with mine.

He kind of looked at his dick in a dull stupor, like he didn’t really know what was going on.

Then he sighed and said, “Damn, that feels good.”

I’m not sure anyone had ever touched his cock before. But surely they must have.

I said in a low whisper, “Now, do me.”

Without looking at me he reached over and started jacking me. We continued doing that for several minutes, sometimes laying our heads back and looking at the ceiling, sometimes looking at the TV.

I decided to make my move, and when he had his head back and his eyes closed I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth, swallowing as much of it as I could at one time.

He was of course startled and jerked up, saying, “What the fuck?”

I simply slid my closed mouth up and down his cock three, four, five times.

When I came up I said, “What, you don’t like that?”

He grunted out, “No man, it feels great. But I can’t do that to you.”

I said, “Don’t sweat it, dude. Maybe you’ll figure out something you can do.”

(As to the ‘dude’ and ‘buddy’, I had adapted to talking this way, mirroring Cal.)

I went back to sucking his cock, doing all the tricks I had picked up in the last few years. After several minutes (and I have to confess, after the past few months of celibacy, I was enjoying sucking his great cock.) I started pulling his pants down, and he quickly kicked them and his Jockeys off. I pulled his T-shirt off over his head.

While sucking his cock I maneuvered him so he was stretched out the length of the couch with his head on one of the arm cushions. I got on my knees between his legs and continued to drive him up the proverbial wall sucking, licking and tickling his cock with my tongue.

By this time the alcohol had really kicked in, and he was awake but approaching delirium. I stripped off my clothes, taking a condom I had in my shirt pocket out and sliding it under a back sofa-cushion. I licked and sucked on his ball sack, taking one and then the other of his balls into my mouth, and rolling them around with my tongue, then returning to his cock.

I ran my tongue down between his legs, under his balls. (Did I mention he probably hadn’t bathed that day, or maybe only since early that morning? He didn’t smell bad exactly, but certainly had a strong, not fresh, male-animal scent.)

Then I lifted his hips so his butt was pointed up. By this time he was a willing limp ragdoll that I could turn any way I wanted. I ran my finger over and around his ass-hole and sniffed to make sure it was reasonably clean. It was, so I started licking it with the flat of my tongue and then sticking the tip of it in as far as I could force it. He moaned like a lady and then uttered in a raspy voice how good that felt. I continued for a few minutes while I reached for the hidden condom, opened the envelope and rolled it down over my cock.

Then I said, “Cal, old buddy, I’m going to do something I think you’re going to love.”

I lowered his hips so my cock was lined up with his asshole and started pushing it in, slowly but without pausing.

I pushed until I was all the way in and asked, “Does that feel good?”

He made a sound something like, “Hmmmm,” and said, “Yeah.”

I then slowly withdrew almost all the way, and pushed inside again, repeating the movement over and over, slowly picking up speed, until I was plunging in and out at a furious rate.

I said, “Cal, old buddy, I’m fucking your ass. Do you hear me? I’m fucking you in the ass with my big cock. It feels good and you like it, don’t you? Tell me you like it, buddy.”

And sure enough in a slurred voice said, “oh yeah, I like it. It feels good. Fuck my ass.”

He had been jacking his dick ever since I had started rimming his ass, and now he was going at it furiously. It only took a few minutes until his breathing became hard, he said, “Oh, fuck,” and started spurting cum onto his chest and stomach.

As his breathing returned to normal I continued to pound his ass with my cock. Then he said, “I gotta piss.”

I said, “Hold on buddy, I’m almost there. I can’t stop now so you can go piss.”

He said, “No, don’t stop. But I wanna piss. I like to piss on myself. I mean, I gotta.”

I said, “Then go ahead.”

Holding his softened cock in his hand, while I was fucking his ass, he started pissing, directing the stream all over his chest and stomach. The smell of his hot piss, instead of turning me off, somehow brought me to the edge and I shot off, over and over. After weeks of no sex, I had plenty of cum in my balls.

When I finished coming I pulled out and stripped the full condom from my cock, dropping it inside out onto Cal’s glistening wet stomach, where gobs of his own cum were still evident. I stood up and walked the few steps to where Cal’s head was.

I said, “Cal,” and he turned his head toward where I stood.

I said, “Suck my dick clean, old buddy,” and stuck my cock into his mouth, which he opened and took it in.

I pulled it out and started putting on my clothes. He looked down at his piss-drenched body with its blotches of cum and my used condom stuck to it in an uncomprehending daze. He then stood up, staggered, righted himself, peeled off the condom with his thumb and forefinger, and headed for the bathroom

I called after him, “Man, it’s really late and I have to go. But that was a fun evening. We’ll have to do it again sometime, right buddy? I’ll see you later. Thanks again. Bye,” and I was out the door.

PART II

Even though the evening’s performance hadn’t gone as I had planned, (I had intended to only get him to have sex with me and then reveal who I was,) I was extremely pleased how it had turned out. But there was still Carl.

I’d had a plan of sorts with Cal. But with Carl, I had no idea what to do… maybe my original plan with Cal? Why not? Over the past months, I had gotten to know Carl much better through my relationship with Cal. Mr. Thompson had retired and turned the running of the hardware store over to Carl. Cal and I had gone to Carl’s house several times to play poker with him and his girlfriend Cynthia.

Cynthia was a loud, crude, over-weight woman ten years his senior, but she was jovial and ready to party at any time. She also seemed to genuinely like Carl. Carl could seem to be a really nice guy, but would suddenly lash out and say something cruel and demeaning. They both drank a lot.

Cynthia was actually an alcoholic, and Carl was probably border-line. His breath usually smelled of whiskey, and his skin did too. I wondered if I licked him if he would taste like Jim Beam.

He was now thirty or thirty-one but looked a good five years older. He was just beginning to lose his hair, and his stomach was starting to form a bulge. Instead of the smooth nearly hairless body of Cal, he had dark curly hair over his chest and stomach, though I wouldn’t call him a bear. The thing is, even though I didn’t like him, I found him sexy, which was unusual as I usually had sex with guys nearer my age.

It was on a Saturday night that I had screwed Cal, so the next afternoon I decided I had to get to Carl before he and Cal got together. I headed over to Carl’s, hoping Cynthia wasn’t there. I knocked on the back screen door, (I knew the front door was blocked by big-screen TV) and Carl came out. I knew at once he was drinking.

He was surprised to see me, but I told him I was looking for Cal and wondered if he was there. He said no, but he wanted to ask me about something. He invited me into the kitchen and asked if I wanted a drink. I declined, saying I was a little hung over and asked for a glass of water. He then got to what he wanted to know, saying he thought Cal was trying to get together with his girlfriend. (I had noticed he never used Cynthia’s name, but always referred to her as “my girlfriend”.)

He had called Cal that morning, but Cal hadn’t wanted to talk to him, which was weird. He hadn’t been able to get in touch with Cynthia or Cal the night before, and he thought they were somewhere getting it on. This was my dream opening.

I said, “Carl, I can assure you Cal wasn’t with Cynthia last night. We went out drinking together.”

He said, “Yeah, but after the bar closed.”

I said, “No, Carl. We were together all night.”

He didn’t seem to be listening. He said, “But they could have…”

I interrupted him and said, “Carl, Cal was with me. Do you understand? With me. We were together… all night. Do you get what I mean?”

Carl looked at me for a minute, and then said, “Are you saying my little brother’s gay?”

I said, “Well, I don’t know about that. I mean I think just because I fucked his ass once doesn’t mean he’s gay.”

Carl said, “You’re lying.”

I said, “Why would I lie to you? How well do you know your brother, I mean how well do know his body? Do you know he has a mole halfway between his bellybutton and the base of his cock, right where his pubic hair starts? Or that one of his balls is bigger and hangs lower than the other one? Or his foreskin doesn’t cover all his cockhead, so his piss hole looks like it’s peeking out at you?”

I paused and smiled like I was remembering something sweet. “And I bet you didn’t know he has a cute circle of curly blond hair around his asshole, like a halo.”

While we had been talking I had placed my hand on his shoulder, but he had quickly brushed it off, and then a couple minutes later I had lightly touched his forearm, but he had stepped back.

He was standing, leaning against the big square table in the middle of the spacious kitchen. I had noticed he had reached down a couple of times to adjust his cock, and now this talk was causing it to come alive and start showing its outline against the light grey sweatpants he was wearing.

He said, “Why would he let you fuck him?”

I said, “He didn’t let me. He wanted me to. He asked me to fuck him in the a…, no, he told me to fuck his ass. You know, your little brother has a really big cock. It’s probably bigger than mine, or yours.”

Carl had always been a blowhard braggart. He always had to be number one. True to life, he took the bait, and at once said, “No way. My cock was always bigger than his.”

I took a chance and lightly laid my palm against the bulge in his sweats.

He didn’t brush it away, and I softly said in almost a whisper, “In Cal’s defense I should tell you that when he told me to fuck him, I was sucking on his cock.”

Carl looked me in the eye and said, “Yeah?”

I closed my hand around his growing meat and said, “Yeah. Let’s see if your cock really is bigger than his.”

I pulled the waistband of his sweats down releasing his semi-hard cock. It was impressive… probably not any longer, but a lot fatter than Cal’s. It was a delicious looking light brown sausage with foreskin that ended in a nipple. My being cut, I always liked cock with foreskin.

I said, “Wow, that’s a really big beautiful piece of man meat,” and knelt down and took it in my mouth, massaging it with my tongue until it quickly became completely hard.

Carl only said, “Oh, my god. God damn, that feels good.”

I soon discovered that wasn’t the only thing he was going to say. Carl had evidently watched too many porn videos. He sounded like one of their soundtracks, but not just the ‘Oh, yeah’ and ‘Fuck yeah’ type. He said those things like ‘Suck that cock’ and ‘Yeah man, lick my balls’ and ‘Make my cock feel good’.

With his pants around his ankles, Carl had lain back on the table and I was bending over him working his cock and doing as he instructed to his balls. Several times he said I sucked better than his girlfriend.

Then he said, “Let’s take this into the bedroom.”

We went into the bedroom, Carl stepped out of his pants and pulled off his T-shirt and hopped up on the bed, spreading open his legs. He propped his head on the headboard so he could watch me suck him. I quickly stripped off my clothes, climbed onto the bed and took his cock in my mouth. He immediately started his commentary.

I decided to give him his money’s worth and started making yum-yum sounds in my throat, and with my mouth slurping and sucking sounds. When I let his balls or his cock slip out of my mouth, I did it with a popping sound, and let him slap me in the face with it.

I was wondering if I wanted to rim his hairy ass or have him face fuck me when Carl said, “I want to fuck you. Can I?”

I looked up at him while licking up and down his pole and asked, “Do you have a condom?”

He said, “In that drawer,” nodding toward the nightstand.

I jumped up, took the condom out of the drawer, tore the pack open and rolled the condom down over his big fat cock. He laid me on my side, lifting my leg so he could get a good view of my asshole, and started pushing his cock in. Its fatness made it difficult and being Carl he didn’t care if it hurt or not. I gritted my teeth and held on until it finally slid in. Then it felt good.

Instead of starting easy and building up speed, he started in pounding right away. After several minutes, he turned me on my back and lifted my legs up so he could continue watching his cock go in and out. My head was hanging over the edge of the bed, so it was difficult for me to lift it and look at him, but I didn’t particularly want to see him. I was jacking my cock so I could bring myself off.

I had devised my plan.

After several more minutes I said, “Carl, I want to sit on your cock. I want to ride it.”

He said something like, “yeah,” and pulled out and moved up again so his head was resting on the headboard.

I turned my back to him so he could get a good view, crouched down and slid down on his cock. I bounced up and down while continuing to jack off. When I was about ready, I swiveled around so I was facing him, and held my balls up so he could keep watching his dick and my ass. After only a few minutes I started shooting my cum.

I wanted to give him a full face shot, but that wasn’t possible. But I was pleased the first gob fell squarely on his chin, the rest spotting his chest and stomach. When the last cum was seeping out, I rubbed the end of my cock in his pubic hair. I then jumped off and started getting dressed.

He said, “Hey, I ain’t come yet. Get me off.”

I said, “Sorry Carl, you’ll have to get yourself off.”

He said, “Fuck!” and pulled the condom off and started jacking madly.

He shot off and sank back into the bed, spent.

I said, “Well Carl, now that you know you like fucking guys, maybe you and Calvin can get together and you can fuck your little brother’s ass.”

Carl looked at me with a scowl that was quickly building to murderous anger, but I was dressed.

I started for the door and said, “I’ve got to get home and check up on my dad. I think you know my dad Carl, Virgil Thorenson?”

I let the realization of who I really was, sink in as I let the screen door slam behind me.

Revenge is fucking sweet.