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o  The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories.  o
o  They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o  from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order  o
o  other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories.     o
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o  Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors.                                 o
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An encounter with Jonathan (MM, rom)
by Karl C. (BBS (c) 1991)

***

I have met three beautiful, slim, sweet-smelling boys, none 
of them a day over nineteen. Jonathan is wearing a leather 
jacket and black jeans; Steven has taken off his T-shirt and 
reveals a tanned, hairless chest and slender, sinuous arms.  
Keith has a camera.

- 'Are you sure about this?'

- 'Yes.  Make love to me.  The way we said. I will scream: 
ignore it.'

Stephen picks up the long, light, straight cane we chose, 
and I bend over the table. Jonathan's hands hold my hair and 
shoulders; the scent of the leather jacket rushes to me. I 
feel Steven's hands reach around and brush my thigh; he pulls 
down the fly zip and then tugs my jeans and pants down to below 
my knees. My bottom feels a sudden chill of cold air, and the 
light pres-sure of the cane just at the anus. Steven is aiming 
the cane. The pressure stops and there is a pregnant pause. I 
hear a loud swish and the crack as the cane hits me. The pain 
comes an instant later. I gasp, but say nothing.  The second 
stroke sears my bottom: the stick feels as though it were red 
hot.

- 'Christ, oh Christ, stop it, stop it!'

Jonathan tightens his grip on my hair and shoulders. At 
the third stroke I scream and for an instant I can't catch my 
breath. The fourth, fifth and sixth strokes are agony. Now, 
my backside is hot and throbbing, and a great tidal wave of 
pain ebbs and flows. The sting dies down, and the deep, 
pulsing tenderness is beautiful beyond words.

Now the sensation changes.  It is cold and firm: Steven's 
finger rubbing oil onto my anus.  He steps quickly out of his 
jeans and I catch a glimpse of his nude, muscular body.  His 
penis finds my sphincter and I bend my knees to admit him.  
Jonathan feels my pleasure and relaxes his grip; he scratches 
my head and strokes my back gently.  As Stephen achieves rear 
entry, his pubic hair scratches my tender, red bottom.  I reach 
out and rub Jonathan's erection through the stiff denim jeans.  

Miraculously, he grunts and a wet patch forms in his jeans at 
the same instant that Stephen climaxes.  We remain joined 
together for perhaps a minute, panting, before Steven 
withdraws, and as I stand up an intense explosion of pain from 
my buttocks reminds me of the caning.  There is a flash of 
light: Keith has photographed our indulgence.  We begin to 
pose:  Stephen holds the cane against my bottom for one 
picture, I kneel in T-shirt alone in another.  We shall 
broadcast our love:  we will digitize these pictures and 
distribute them, and anyone who wants us shall have us all.

I slip my arm around Jonathan's waist and hug him closely.

His thigh presses against my crotch, and he has a firm, 
eager erection again.  I touch it, and my own desire becomes 
urgent passion.  We kiss so hard that I feel his stubbly cheeks 
scratch my lips.  His hair tangles in mine.

- 'Jon, my gorgeous Jon, I love you.  Lie down with me.'
	
We kiss again.  He lets me go, and puts Keith's hand onto
Steven's crotch.

- 'Will you two be happy together for a moment?'

Jonathan and I go through to the bedroom.  We hug and kiss
and writhe and undress together.  Before I have undressed 
completely, he has entered me...