Chris & Mishka - The Finale

Chris went everywhere on the Miami strip in search of Tyler. He was nowhere to be found! By the time he reached the final destination he figured Tripp would gravitate towards, his feet were blistered in his sandals. He felt like one of those dolls with the string attached to its back, where when you pull it, it parrots the same phrase.

“Have you seen this kid?,” he hollered for the hundredth time, to the hundredth bartender. The bartender reached for the picture he had of him and Tripp, with their arms around each other in Harvard hockey jerseys. He smiled. “Yeah!...He’s a hot fucker!...Real wild too!...He left maybe fifteen minutes ago.” He handed Chris the picture back. “I should rephrase that! He got CARRIED out!”

Chris felt his heart leap into his throat. The kind of people in here were a bunch of predators, 90% of whom were high on poppers and ecstasy. “Umm, thanks man!,” he said to the Armani Xchange clad bartender, trying to smile. Truth was, he was scared out of his mind. “The people he was with...Umm...” The bartender’s enthusiastic cackle cut him off mid sentence. “A bunch of tribal tattooed rave boys!...They were, umm...feelin’ pretty good, if you know what I mean!”

Chris turned away and began shoving his way through the crowd of wasted twenty somethings. Things were not looking so hot for Tripp right now. And the numb nuts that he was, he broke his cell phone, should Tripp be in trouble and trying to reach him!

Tripp had no idea what was going on. All he knew, was that every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Sand squished under his bare feet. It felt cold and damp. They must have been close to the ocean. He was being dragged by a guy about his size, who’s shoulder his arm was draped around. Another one was along side of him. He had his hand around his waist, resting on his hot skin. It felt clammy, but the way he was caressing him up and down on his hip was getting him hot. His shirt was off. That much he knew.

“Guys, where are we going?...,” Tripp asked. He felt like he was speaking in slow motion. A third guy came around them and put the vial of poppers under Tripp’s nose. He giggled incoherently and snorted. “Uhnnnnnn...,” he moaned his eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck, that’s good!”

All three of them backed him up against a jetty. Cold water rushed around his feet. “Ahhhhh, that’s cold!,” he shrieked, cracking up. “It feels good though, doesn’t it Tripp?...,” the blue-eyed one with the bleached blonde hair whispered to him. His breath was hot against Tripp’s cheek. Right now, Tripp was seeing three of him, but he remembered him looking like Jared Leto before all the drugs.

He felt his arms get pinned against the rocks on both sides, by the other two. “Fuuuck, look at this body...Can I see more of it, Tripp?...” In truth, Tripp’s answer didn’t matter one bit. Devon was going to see and do whatever he wanted.

“Yeahhhh...Go ahead, man.,” Tripp purred. He accepted Devon’s frisky tongue into his mouth and began to playfully nibble it. “Mmmmm, you hot little fucker!,” Devon, sneered, running his hands over Tripp’s smooth, rippled abs. The cool sea air made his nipples so hard, that when Devon’s fingers began to tug on his piercing, he let out a long moan of pleasure. The poppers he just sucked up into his brain, intensified that feeling times ten.

Instantly, mouths were everywhere, Devon’s on his tit, the other two boys sucking either side of his long neck. Hot saliva felt like ice in the sea breeze...”Ahhhhhhh!...,” Tripp cried out, falling back against the slimy jetty rocks, and savoring the sensation. Devon’s pointy tongue darted quickly up and down against his nipple, sending rivers of pleasure down into his loins like jolts of electricity.

The dark-haired boy with the goatee, Tripp could swear his name was Gary, grabbed a handful of his throbbing crotch. Pre-cum began to ooze down his thigh, and out the leg of his shorts. His boxers were already too soaked to absorb anymore. Blue-haired, eyebrow-pierced Nicky, fumbled with Tripp’s low-hipped cargo shorts.

He heard a chorus of awestricken obscenities as Nicky inched his shorts down. It was like he was lost somewhere in a dark tunnel, hearing echoes all around him. “Fuuuucck! Look at how wet he is!...God, that’s hot!...I want a piece of that!...Turn him around. Let me see that sweet ass!...” Tripp had no idea who was saying what, only that he wanted their hands and mouths on his skin...

“Open your mouth, baby!,” Devon demanded. Tripp obeyed. “Stick up that sexy, pierced tongue.” The familiar taste of an acid tab, bitter as hell, was placed underneath. Then, Gary offered him more poppers. He snorted. His legs felt like jelly, but he forced himself to straighten up.

He felt himself get wrenched by the arms. “Up! Come on Tripp!” They wanted him to kneel on the rocks in front of them. He got up there, trying his best not slip off from all the sea slime underneath his hands and knees. Nicky pulled his boxers down. “Awww, shit!...Check this out.” He felt two pairs of persistent hands begin to knead the cheeks of his rock hard ass. One of them slapped it, making him moan. “Yeah, you like that, Tripp?...” The next one was harder, stinging his velvety skin. “Uh-huh!...I fucking love it!,” Tripp hissed.

Devon came around the side of him and grabbed a handful of his sandy brown hair. “Yeah?...Well, I’m gonna fuck you!...Think you like that too?...” Tripp giggled. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. “I’d love for you to fuck me. You have a condom, right?...” Devon looked at the other boys, and they burst into mocking laughter, “Yeah! Right!,” he lied. “Condoms! Sure Tripp!”

Nicky grabbed hold of the cheeks of Tripp’s ass and pushed him forward. He crashed down on his elbows, getting cut by sharp, ebony rock and drawing blood. Nicky moaned behind him. “Gary, come here...Look at this.” Gary stood beside him, and they stared at Tripp’s sweet little pucker. It was so perfect and pink. His ass was devoid of hair, except for a blond down that made it look deliciously peach-like.

Unable to refrain, Nicky got to his knees and buried his face in Tripp’s inviting ass. Tripp growled his appreciation and began to back it up. “Mmmmm,” Nicky moaned, whacking on the glistening seven inches he’d just freed from his jeans. Gary was jealous, and spread Tripp enough to worm in his own greedy tongue, sharing his manly taste with his friend. Now, Tripp was really making noise. Devon pulled harder on his hair and made him swallow his tongue as punishment.

Finally Devon wanted a piece of that tasty Harvard butt. “Move!,” he whined, elbowing Gary out of his way, and spreading Tripp’s saliva-saturated boy pussy with his thumbs. He really made Tripp squirm. He had a naughty little tongue, and certainly knew how to eat ass. Tripp squealed like a bitch for him, reaching around to try and push his entire face up his clenching chute.

Devon got up after he’d had more than his fill. “Get on your back!,” he demanded, licking all around his mouth to savor Tripp’s funky taste. “Let’s go, pretty boy!” He was stroking his long pole vigorously, prepping it for the tight, jock ass it was about to plow.

Tripp got on his back, and Nicky made him inhale some more poppers, as they pushed his legs up for Devon. Tripp was really out of his mind now. He looked at them like Mr. Magoo trying to read a road sign.

Devon shoved his cock all the way up Tripp’s ass in one fluid motion. Tripp howled in pain. Devon didn’t care. “Shut up, you bitch!,” he snarled, beginning to pound him.

It wasn’t so bad after a couple of minutes. The pain began to give way to a somewhat pleasurable sensation, and Tripp started to moan. “That’s it!..Moan for me, Harvard boy!...You’ve got one sweet, rich boy asshole!...You’re gonna make me cum!,” Devon snarled, through labored breaths.

Tripp smirked at him. It pissed him off. “Gary, fuck that smile off his pretty face!,” he demanded. Tripp giggled between cries of tortured, drug-induced delight. “What are you, the fucking lead vampire?...Does everyone do what you say, tough guy?...I bet - Mmmmmppphhhhh!”

Gary yanked him by his hair and crammed his thick ten inches down his throat. Tripp whimpered and drooled, as he desperately tried to breathe. His gag reflex kicked in, but Gary showed him no mercy, as he held his head in place with both hands.

Tripp began to kick, but Nicky took over both legs and tightened his grip. “Ahhh, fuuuckkkk!,” Devon cried, as he drilled him with everything he had. His balls made a loud thwapping sound, as they smacked against Tripp’s sore, reamed out ass. A few minutes later, he pulled out and erupted a hefty load of boy cream all over his stomach.