("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Trevor's Three Challenges - 1
by Pegboy (attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk)

***

A young and keen Tarzan fan is befriended by three men 
at the local cinema. (MM/m, 1st-gay-expr, oral, anal)

***

PART 1

It was an overcast day in late July. The summer holidays 
had just begun and Lenny and Ronnie, my two mates, were at 
the seaside with their parents - my mother and father had 
no money for such expensive excursions, so I was left to 
kick my heels until my mates returned from the coast.

A Tarzan film was showing at the local fleapit: the Ben-Hur 
cinema in Aston Street. The place was a real dump, but it 
was a lot easier to sneak into than the Odeon - Lloyd, the 
West Indian usher, kept one of the fire exit doors open on 
a Tuesday afternoon.

The cinema was almost empty when I stepped inside and sat 
down near the back. The house lights were down and the film 
was just about to start, so I had picked the perfect time 
to sneak in. Lloyd walked up the centre aisle and shone his 
torch in my direction. This was the danger moment: if he 
liked the look of you, you stayed; if not, you were thrown 
out on your ear - blond boys, like me, were never thrown 
out, but I didn't know that at the time.

Lloyd disappeared into the darkness as I settled down to 
watch 'Tarzan's Three Challenges', starring Jock Mahoney 
and Woody Strode. I had paid to see the film a few weeks 
earlier at the Odeon, so my only interest in watching it 
again was for the fight scenes, especially the machete 
fight scene.

The man who sat down beside me some ten minutes into the 
film was clearly no fan of Jock Mahoney.

'He's nowhere near as good as Gordon Scott,' he said. 'In 
fact, old Jock played the villain in one of Gordon's films, 
"Tarzan the Magnificent". Have you seen it?'

'No,' I said.

'It was doing the rounds some three or four years ago. You 
must have been, what, eleven or twelve years old?'

'Ten or eleven,' I replied truthfully.

'Hmmm, it's a pity we didn't know one another then,' he 
said, putting his hand on my left knee. 'Now listen, sport. 
The manager's in today and he's on the lookout for a bod 
who sneaked in without paying.'

The colour drained from my face as I turned and looked at 
the man. The manager had once hit me across the back of the 
head during a Saturday morning matinee. I was completely 
innocent of course, but still the bastard had blamed me for 
the uproar that had broken out after the projector had 
chewed up a Roy Rogers' short. Unfortunately, my father and 
the manager had attended the same school together, so when 
they met to deal with my complaint, I was given another 
whack across the back of the head for accusing my father's 
long lost friend of assault.

'Don't worry, sport,' continued the man, squeezing my knee 
gently. 'Lloyd sent me over to look after you. He gave me 
an extra ticket stub and said, if asked, that he would 
swear we came in together.'

'Oh, right,' I said, not knowing what else to say.

'I wouldn't try to leave, sport,' warned the man, sensing 
my reluctance to hang around. 'The manager's bound to nab 
you if you do a runner now. No, wait until the end of the 
film and leave with me, Uncle Frank.'

It was then that another man came shuffling along the row 
of seats I was in and sat down next to me, on my right. I 
nervously sat between the two men as Tarzan continued to 
challenge the evil Khan.

'He's found the fire exit door open,' said the man. 'The 
old sod's on the prowl and looking for someone without a 
ticket. Lloyd told me to tell you to stay put, son.'

I turned my head to thank the man for the message, and as I 
did so, Frank shifted his hand from my knee to my crotch.

'Thanks for the update, John,' said Frank, squeezing my 
cock through the fabric of my shorts and underpants. 'I've 
got the lad's ticket in my pocket, so as long as he stays 
here, he's got nothing to worry about.'

'Good, good,' said John, putting his hand on my right knee. 
'The last boy they caught in here without a ticket was 
dragged off to a borstal. He was locked up for nearly a 
year and a half, the poor sod.'

The idea of being locked up in a borstal filled me with 
dread: my father would be absolutely furious and beat me 
black and blue. The very thought of being caught by the 
manager made me feel faint; it also stopped me from doing 
anything about the hand between my legs - the hand that 
would have caused me to vault over the seats and make a run 
for it at any other time.

'What's your name, sport?' asked Frank, feeling my cock 
stiffen a little beneath the material of my shorts and 
underpants.

'Trevor, Trevor Mar...'

'Well, Trevor,' he interrupted. 'If you do exactly as 
you're told, co-operate like, I'll tell the manager, if he 
asks, that you're my nephew. Deal?'

'Yes,' I replied submissively.

'Good. That's good,' he said, squeezing my cock real hard. 
'Now unbuckle your belt, unbutton your shorts and get your 
cock out.'

'C'mon, son,' added John. 'It'll be fun.'

Helped by the two men, I nervously released my snake belt, 
unbuttoned my grey gabardine shorts and pulled out my cock, 
which continued to stiffen.

'Nice,' said John, taking hold of my growing erection and 
squeezing it behind the cock-head. 'This feels real stiff.'

'So does this,' said Frank, as he took hold of my hand and 
wrapped it round the stem of his hard-standing cock, which 
was now, like mine, fully exposed to the elements.

'Now do as you're told, sport, and you'll walk away with 
half-a-crown and a smile on your face. Okay?' continued 
Frank.

I nodded my head and squeezed Frank's cock to underscore my 
commitment to the deal we had struck: the offer of money 
didn't register; I just needed that ticket stub.

The two men crowded in on me as I was encouraged to stroke 
Frank's cock and let John's forefinger and thumb stroke 
mine. I already knew how to wank, so I wasn't fazed in any 
way by what we were doing. In fact, I kind of liked the 
idea of being wanked off by somebody else.

The fear of being hauled off to the police station by the 
cinema manager soon ebbed away as I concentrated on 
satisfying the men's need for underage sex. They sensed, 
and quite rightly so, that I might be a boy that could be 
called upon to satisfy their needs on a regular basis.

'You're really good at this, sport,' said Frank, lying 
through his teeth. 'I didn't think a youngster of your age 
would be so good at looking after an old man's cock.'

'He's got a really nice winkle as well,' added John. 'It's 
a pity we can't find somewhere more private to carry on 
playing with it.'

'Yeah, the manager's bound to be sniffing around here soon, 
Johnny boy,' said Frank, looking at the sea of empty seats 
in front of him. 'I think we better pack it in. Maybe we 
could meet up again next Tuesday, when the manager's not 
around. What you say, sport?'

This was the perfect time for me to say 'yes' and not mean 
it. Unfortunately, my cock wanted me to say 'yes' and mean 
it in spades. In fact, my cock wanted me to say 'sod the 
manager, let's carry on wanking'.

'He's thinking about it, Frank,' said John, releasing my 
five-inch stem and plunging his hand into my Y-fronts for 
an exploratory grope.

'C'mon, sport. What you say?'

'Yes, yes,' I said nervously. 'I'll be here next Tuesday 
afternoon. I promise.'

'Did you hear that, Frank, he's promised,' said John, 
toying with the orbs inside my hairless ball-sac. 'Tell you 
what; let's go outside and take a walk in the park.'

'Yeah, button up, sport,' said Frank. 'The three of us can 
take the air and talk about sex and such like.'

The park backed directly onto the rear of the cinema, and 
that's where we ended up some ten minutes later. The base 
of the cinema wall was lined with scores of displaced 
gravestones: the park had been a church cemetery before the 
area was bombed during the Second World War.

A small grass-covered clearing, located between the cinema 
wall and a dense line of bushes, was the perfect place to 
have a covert sex romp with a fourteen-year-old schoolboy.

Frank, the taller of the two men, was in his early forties, 
unshaven and rugged-looking. He wore a shabby, dark brown 
suit and a pair of dilapidated brogues. His blond hair was 
cropped, and even though he wasn't dirty or smelly, he did 
look like a tall, skinny tramp.

John was in his late twenties or early thirties. He too was 
blond, rugged-looking and thin. However, he looked nothing 
like a tramp. He wore a navy-blue pull-over and reefer 
jacket, blue jeans and a pair of black, Tuff boots. His 
hair was a little longer than Frank's and he had a small 
bluebird tattooed on the back of his right hand.

'Right-tee-ho, Trevor,' said Frank. 'Let's see what you 
look like with nothing on.'

'Nothing on!' I said in a high pitch voice. 'What, naked 
like?'

'Yep, that's it, son,' replied John. 'In the nuddy; the 
nude; starkers!'

The two men pushed me against a cracked marble gravestone 
and started unbuttoning my shirt and shorts. They were very 
strong, and I knew that they could easily rip my clothes 
off me if I continued to resist them. I gave up the instant 
Frank tried to pull my shirt over my head - my mother would 
have gone berserk if I came home with a torn shirt.

'Okay, okay. Let me do it,' I said in a hoarse whisper. 
'What do you want me to take off first?'

'Your shirt and vest,' replied Frank, as he let go of my 
crumpled shirt. 'Then your shoes and socks, and lastly your 
shorts and underpants.'

'And as they come off, you give them to me,' added John.

I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. My vest, shoes and 
socks quickly followed. The grass beneath my feet was long 
and dry, so I had no problem standing barefoot in the small 
clearing. Frank insisted on helping me remove my shorts and 
underpants.

'Sweet, real sweet,' said Frank, as he handed over my Y-
fronts to John. 'We've struck gold here, Johnny boy; 
twenty-four carat gold!'

I smiled nervously as Frank and John stepped back to study 
my puny, adolescent body. I was very embarrassed, and this 
embarrassment grew as the two men compared notes.

'Look at those tiny nipples, Frank,' admired John. 'And 
check out that ribcage and belly button. The skin covering 
his ribs is drum-tight and so-o-o pale. Hmmm...'

'Yeah, it's as tight and white as his foreskin. And check 
out those lips. Jeez, he'll be sucking cock for England by 
Bonfire Night.'

'Sooner, I bet.'

'Turn round and face the headstones, sport,' said Frank, 
taking off his jacket and spreading it out on the grass. 
'Let's have a look at your arse.'

'That's it, son,' added John. 'Turn round, spread your legs 
and put your hands on your hips.'

My cheeks were burning up with embarrassment. So to save a 
few more blushes I gladly turned round, spread my legs and 
put my hands on my hips.

'Now that's a sight for sore eyes,' said Frank. 'The boy 
looks like an angel but clearly wants a couple of old 
perverts like us to turn him into a little devil. Ain't 
that right, sport?'

'C'mon, Trevor,' prompted John. 'Wiggle your bum and answer 
the man.'

I suddenly felt the warmth of Frank's breath on the back of 
my neck as he decided to forego my answer and take 
possession of my body. My cock twitched with excitement as 
I was pulled back and down onto his jacket.

'Attaboy, sport,' soothed Frank, as he lay beside me. Just 
relax and let me do all the work.'

As John turned and disappeared into the bushes, I heard, 
off to my left, the eerie sound of a crow calling its mate. 
The crow called out again as John and my clothes left the 
park and headed back to the cinema.

'He'll be back soon,' soothed Frank, taking hold of my 
aching erection between his forefinger and thumb. 'He's 
just gone to get "the man with the most" .... Lloyd's big, 
black cock is nearly ten inches long when riled.'

I tried to protest about the loss of my clothes, but Frank 
pulled me close and began stroking my stem to calm me down; 
and as he did so, a second crow called out to the first and 
crashed about in the bushes nearby. The old bird had seen 
many a boy being introduced to oral and anal sex in the 
clearing between the bushes and the cinema wall.

'Just think of us as your three challenges,' explained 
Frank, squeezing my cock real hard between his finger and 
thumb. 'If you take the three of us on and win - and you'll 
have no trouble in doing that with those lips of yours - 
you can be assured of rumpy pumpy for the rest of the 
school holiday.'

My cheeks were still burning up with embarrassment, but my 
cock wasn't going to let my timid nature get in the way of 
what it craved. It had brought me this far, against all the 
warnings I had received on the subject of going off with 
strange men, and was determined to get as much rumpy pumpy 
as possible over the next six weeks.

'Ronnie, my mate, showed me a picture of a woman sucking a 
man's cock once,' I said excitedly. 'Do you want me to suck 
your cock?'

'That's it,' replied Frank. 'I want you to suck my cock, 
John's cock and Lloyd's cock. Is that okay with you, 
sport?'

I shrugged my shoulders and said, 'If you want me to.'

'That's great, Trevor,' said Frank, grinning. 'And as a 
reward, I'll take you for a ride in the back of my van 
tomorrow and suck your cock. Deal?'

'Yeah, why not,' I replied boldly.

Frank continued to keep my aching cock on the brink of a 
climax until John and Lloyd turned up. The poor thing 
twitched incessantly as the man increased and decreased his 
stroke rate to suit the moment; and when his friends did 
eventually arrive, he put my climax on hold until I had 
completed my three challenges, the bastard.

* * *

The three men stood before me in a semicircle as I knelt on 
Frank's jacket and watched them unbuckle their belts and 
lower their jeans and trousers.

Each cock bounced into view, semi-erect and begging for 
attention. They swayed up and down and from side to side, 
twitching with excitement, as their owners made them ready 
for my first cock-sucking outing.

'Open your mouth, rude boy,' said Lloyd, as he smiled and 
stroked his black mamba. 'Let's see that tongue of yours. 
C'mon, stick it out.'

I did as I was told and watched his massive uncut cock rise 
to the occasion. It looked so big compared to Frank and 
John's uncut erections. Don't get me wrong, the cocks 
flanking the black mamba were long, maybe seven to eight 
inches long, but Lloyd's ebony stem was going to be the 
real challenge of the day.

Tentatively I took hold of the two white cocks as Lloyd fed 
the mamba's dark purple knob into my mouth.

'Look up, boy,' said Lloyd. 'Let's see those bright red 
cheeks and baby blue eyes.'

'He colours up real quick,' said John to Lloyd. 'The little 
sod's so fuckin' cute, and so fuckin' fuckable!'

'Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Johnny boy,' rebuked 
Frank. 'Trevor needs to learn how to walk before he can 
run. So button it!'

'Alright, Frank,' replied John sheepishly. 'I only...'

'That's it, boy,' interrupted Lloyd, putting his hands on 
my head. 'Open wide for Roger the Lodger.'

I gulped and nearly gagged as the man's bulbous knob, which 
was slimy with pre-cum, hit the back of my mouth.

'Easy, rude boy,' he continued, pulling back a little. 
'Breathe through your nose .... That's it.'

The crow perched in the bushes suddenly took off and flew 
away, screeching out a frenzied warning as it did so. This 
prompted the three men to freeze and listen out for what 
had spooked the old bird. Nearby, on the path that ran 
through the park, a man called out, 'Come here, boy'; and 
then, when that didn't work, 'Laddie, heel'.

'Fucking dogs,' whispered Frank. 'The only good dog is a 
hot dog, with mustard.'

'The only good dog is a hot dog, with its dick up its 
owner's arse,' laughed Lloyd, when the man and his dog had 
been reunited by the water fountain, which stood in the 
centre of the park.

For some reason the image of a naked man being mounted by a 
big black dog was imprinted on my subconscious from that 
moment on. I had no idea whether a man could actually be 
fucked by a dog, but the very thought of it intrigued me.

With the man and his dog gone, the three friends resumed 
their afternoon delight. Frank and John wrapped their hands 
around my hands and began wanking themselves off. I grunted 
as the West Indian pushed forward and filled my mouth with 
a little more cock.

Lloyd was about the same age as John. He was well-built and 
a tad taller than John. His skin was coal-black, his hair 
close-cropped and he had a neatly trimmed moustache. The 
usher's uniform he wore was ill-fitting and dark green in 
colour. It was decorated with brass buttons and gold braid, 
and had a gold stripe running down the outside of each 
trouser leg.

'Attaboy, sport,' said Frank. 'Keep sucking on that big 
black cock. Make it give up its seed, and don't forget to 
swallow every drop.'

'A word of caution, boy,' said Lloyd. 'Don't you go choking 
on my love juice. If you can't swallow it, don't fret. It's 
no big deal.'

'That's right, son,' added John. 'It took me a while to 
swallow a full load. The man's a spunk factory!'

I gagged as the mamba hit the back of my mouth and tried to 
go further. Lloyd pulled back to help me recover, and as he 
did so, I ran the tip of my tongue over his cock-head. He 
groaned and waited for me to clear my throat and regain my 
composure; he then fed his cock back into my mouth and 
began face-fucking me.

As Lloyd's body went rigid, I tightened my grip on the two 
throbbing cocks that flanked the black mamba. The West 
Indian gave out a long, low moan of satisfaction as he 
flooded my mouth with warm, salty sperm. I gagged again as 
my throat closed instinctively to prevent the viscous 
liquid reaching my stomach.

'Fucking sweet,' said Lloyd in a long outward breath.

It was then that Frank muttered something under his breath 
and suddenly stopped wanking. Alas it was too late: a 
forceful jet of spunk flew through the air and hit me high 
on the left cheek, just below the eye, then trickled down 
to join the sperm leaking out of my mouth. John laughed as 
another spurt of Frank's seed hit me in the same spot.

Frank released my hand, threw back his head and started 
swearing under his breath. I squeezed his stem a few times 
in a 'there, there, let's make it better' sort of way, but 
it didn't seem to help the man who had just missed out on a 
blowjob.

Lloyd withdrew his cock and told me to spit out his load 
and concentrate on 'licking John's todger into shape'.

'Give it a good seeing to,' said John, as he pulled back 
the foreskin and fed the cock-head into my mouth.

After the black mamba, John's cock was a lot easier to 
handle. With spunk dripping from my chin, I ran my tongue 
over the shiny knob and along the smooth, steely length.

'Take hold of his bollocks,' said Lloyd. 'Give his ball-bag 
a squeeze .... Go on! Don't be scared.'

John suddenly upped the tempo and started face-fucking me 
in a serious way. This prevented me from taking hold of his 
ball-sac, which annoyed the West Indian.

'That's it, Johnny boy,' said Frank, returning to the fold 
after sulking for a few minutes. 'Turn the sprog into a 
cock-sucking sex pet. C'mon, you can do it!'

Frank knelt down beside me and took hold of my flaccid 
cock, which had been left to wither while I satisfied the 
men.

'Your cock's shrunk down to nothing,' he said ruefully. 'I 
shouldn't have left it unattended for so long. Sorry about 
that, sport.'

The maestro had my cock up and running again in no time at 
all; and it felt a whole lot stiffer than before.

'That's better,' he whispered into my ear. 'You really like 
me doing this, don't you, sport?'

With a mouthful of cock, my reply was a little garbled and 
needed a nod of the head to get the message across.

'Your cock feels so hard,' he said. 'And that knob of yours 
is getting darker and darker. I think your gonna come and 
beat Johnny boy to the draw.'

'No way, José,' said John, taking up the challenge. 'I'm 
nearly there.'

'He's got you beat, boy,' taunted Frank. 'The sprog's gonna 
shed his load before you.'

Lloyd began to massage John's bare buttocks with his big, 
broad hand. The race was now on and I was enjoying every 
second of it.

'C'mon, John,' encouraged Lloyd. 'You can't let this little 
fellow beat you. Empty that ball-bag of spunk into his 
mouth.'

Frank suddenly stopped stroking my swollen erection, but 
still held it firmly between his forefinger and thumb.

'I can't wait to see you come, sport,' he purred. 'I love 
watching boys shoot their load; it's a real turn-on for 
me.'

My cock twitched and demanded more attention. John was 
almost there, and the vice-like grip he now had on my head 
was starting to hurt.

Frank cupped my left buttock in his right hand and squeezed 
it gently. He then resumed stroking my cock: using slow, 
full-length strokes. The base of my stem ached as he held 
me on the very brink of a climax.

'Yes! Yes! Yes!' announced John triumphantly, 'Fuckin' 
yes!'

The race was over; but I didn't give a hoot. The victor was 
now filling my mouth with white salty seed; and as he did 
so, I felt a heavy pounding in my groin. Then, too late to 
claim the prize, a forceful jet of sperm leapt from my 
cock-head and hit John on the leg, just below the left 
kneecap. Two more jets flew through the air as Frank 
squeezed my buttock real hard and ran a finger over my 
slippery, purple knob.

'What a performance,' said Lloyd. 'The boy's really got 
what it takes to join our club. Let's make his member a 
member. All those in favour, say aye.'

The men laughed as John withdrew his glistening length from 
my mouth, which allowed the sperm to ooze out of the 
orifice and onto my chin. Frank quickly ran the palm of his 
hand over my wet lips, and saying 'aye', wiped it over my 
face.

'Cock cream is good for the complexion,' said John, 
grinning. 'It'll keep you young and good-looking; and if 
you swallow it, you're cock will grow and grow.'

'Just like your nose,' said Lloyd to John, as he slapped 
him hard across the buttocks.

'More please, sir,' said John, bending forward and 
thrusting out his arse-cheeks.

'Later, later,' snapped Frank. 'Let's get Trevor cleaned up 
and dressed. The poor sod looks done in.'

'I'm alright,' I said breathlessly. 'I don't have to be in 
until five o'clock, so we can do it again if you want.'

'Maybe next time,' said Lloyd. 'I'm late already, so Beth's 
sure to tell the manager when he comes in at six o'clock; 
she's sweet on him.'

'I thought the manager was already in, and searching for 
me,' I said, confused.

The three men laughed as they helped me to my feet and 
began groping me.

'If we'd told you any different, sport, you wouldn't be in 
the bushes with us now,' said Frank.

'We knew you wanted to get your cock out, son,' said John, 
lying. 'You just needed a little encouragement. Am I 
right?'

'Well, maybe. I'm not really sure...'

'Is it going to be a problem?' interrupted Frank.

'No. Not really, but... but...'

'Good. So let's get on with it,' said Lloyd. 'Clean the boy 
up, get him dressed and give him five bob.'

'I said half-a-crown,' grumbled Frank. 'Five bob's too 
much, especially when I didn't get a blowjob.'

'I'll give you one now,' I said. 'Instead of the money; I 
don't want any money.'

'I knew you were one of us,' said John, as he continued to 
explore my arse-crack and bum-hole. 'Are you up for another 
meeting tomorrow; say around ten o'clock? We can pick you 
up in the van. Do you know where White Horse Lane is?'

I nodded my head to both questions as Frank buttoned 
himself up and went off to the water fountain, carrying a 
handkerchief for the big clean up.

Continued in part 2...

(c) 2007 Pegboy

All comments welcome (attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 51