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three freshmen guys, joking around

She decided to go into town for a slice of pizza. On the way back she passed the Guest House on the edge of campus, where the P-3’s (those waiting for their impreg) and P-4’s (those whom the Sire had already inseminated) stayed from the time they were flown in on Sunday afternoon. The P-4’s could leave right after their impreg, but most elected to stay around till the main flight out Sunday morning. Semillas was an idyllic college town, and the mountains nearby were beautiful.

The Guest House was big of course, having room for all 41 women whom the Sire was set to inseminate that week. It looked like an Old Wild West hotel, which indeed it once was, three stories, 25 bedrooms, and on the first floor, living quarters for Ms. Canworthy (the very busy Guest House Coordinator) and her husband, a couple of offices, a lecture room and a banquet room. Now, with lights on in every room, it was filled with new arrivals settling in.

Across the street, on college grounds, were some picnic tables and to Angela’s surprise she saw the silhouette of Kai-Kai sitting cross-legged on top of one, looking down at two guys sitting on either side of the table. She decided to say hi and found that the two guys, bundled up against the sudden cold, were Kai-Kai’s dance major buddies, Kevin Tse and Duvon Howard. Kevin was Chinese-American, like she was, and Duvon was black. Dance was Kai-Kai’s minor. His major was Library Science, which fit his modest personality.

“Hi guys,” she said. “Come sit down,” Kai-Kai said in his soft voice. Angela found herself, along with the two guys, looking up at Kai-Kai’s nudity, something the guys didn’t mind in the least, since they were gay and worshipped his body. The Sire, as usual, seemed oblivious to the cold. With the resiliency of a teenager he had recovered from the draining —hydrated, nourished, rested, happy.

“We hear you were at the lab draining today from beginning to end,” Kevin said. “What was that? Three hours?”

“Actually four,” Angela said. She looked up at Kai-Kai. “This boy is amazing.”

“No argument here!” Duvon said. “We’ve been wondering how those things go. I can’t imagine, coming over and over again in a lab.”

“It must feel good,” Kevin said. “Right?”

“Actually, the beginning of the orgasm, when I go over the crest, that feels good,” the naked boy said, utterly honest as always, “but after about, um, I don’t know, maybe the fifth one, the contractions start to hurt. It’s sore when I have to pee later.”

“Wow! Coming five times! I can hardly make it to two! M.K.C.C.!” Kevin enthused.

“Hurts when you pee?” Duvon said, a little concerned. His major was pre-med. “That could be a urinary tract infection.”

“No, I mean when I stop the pee, that muscle, the pubococcygeal muscle, it’s sore.”

The three of them, looking up at the nude teenager, nakedly exposed to the cold while they were all covered up, sat silent for a while. Kevin’s question was jokey but the answer was unexpectedly serious.

“I think it’s because my PC muscle is not toned enough,” Kai-Kai said, thoughtfully. Or maybe not?

At this the tension broke. Was this a joke?

“Kai-Kai’s muscle tone is great,” Duvon said. “If you saw him in dance class you’d know that.” He was speaking to Angela.

Kevin, also, was looking at Angela when he said, “He’s also way flexible. Guys aren’t flexible like Kai-Kai is. Only the girls are.”

Angela thought: another stereotypical feminine trait. Kai-Kai was the most feminine of boys, in so many ways.

“Go ahead, Kai-Kai, do it!” Duvon said. “We know you can.”

The naked boy smiled and looked down. Angela thought he might be blushing but it was too dark to tell. “Well . . . you know . . .”

Angela didn’t know what they were talking about. Apparently something they were discussing before she showed up.

“C’mon!!” Kevin and Duvon said in unison.

Kai-Kai exhaled, then said, “Well, o.k.” He scooted down to the end of the table, then raised his legs up straight into the air, bare toes pointing toward the darkening sky. His elbows were on the table, his hands propping up his butt cheeks as his pelvis rose up. Then he brought his legs forward so that the toes passed over his head. He continued, his pelvis rising further. His penis dangled down toward his face. Angela’s jaw dropped as she realized what was about to happen.

Kai-Kai’s flaccid penis lowered and lowered and finally met his open mouth. He took in the soft glans and then gently bit on it with bared teeth. He looked at Duvon, then Kevin, then Angela, with a little toothy smile like a dog presenting a ball he had retrieved. The only word for this smile was “cute”.

“You can take more in!” Duvon said. Kai-Kai bent some more and another inch went in. It was obvious he could go further, but he raised his legs back up and the penis came out of his mouth and ended up dangling about two inches above it.

“If I could do that I would do it all the time!” Kevin said, laughing.

Angela was stunned, but admittedly impressed. “Kai-Kai . . . that’s amazing!”

“He’s so flexible, and his dick is so long, that it’s easy for him,” Kevin pointed out.

“Do you ever suck yourself off?” Duvon said, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“No . . . I don’t masturbate.”

Angela wondered about this answer. Most guys masturbated because they’re horny. But in his duties as the Sire, Kai-Kai came so many times in the course of the day that he probably never got to that point. Or was this for religious reasons? Was he following the no-masturbation rule of Marikit’s church?

“Besides,” Kai-Kai added, “when I get erect, I don’t think my glans would fit in my mouth.” They thought of the size of his erect glans and knew this was true.

“Well,” Duvon said, standing up to look down between Kai-Kai’s legs, namely at his anus, which was facing the sky, “Look how easy your butthole is to get to, and your balls. I bet if I stuck my finger in and massaged your prostate, and fondled those gigantic balls, you would come buckets. I mean, a big load even for you.”

Kai-Kai looked uncertainly at the end of his penis, swaying gently above his face.

“Think of all the protein,” Kevin said. “Don’t you like the taste of semen?” Kevin, at least, certainly did.

“Um . . . I don’t know, I’ve never tasted it.”

“You must like the smell of it.”

Kai-Kai looked up at his testicles, hanging down from above like large fruit from a tree. “I . . . don’t know. I never thought about it.”

Angela could believe that. Kai-Kai had seen his semen spurt out of his penis thousands of times, and been measured in tubes, shot into vaginas, and smeared by women over their faces. He was surrounded by it so often, he probably never imagined that it was a scent he would be asked if he liked or disliked.

“That’s not his only trick,” Duvon said to Angela. “Kai-Kai, do you mind?” He brought out a pen.

The naked boy smiled, still resting on his elbows with his toes way past his head. “No, go ahead. Be gentle.”

“As always.” Kai-Kai, everyone knew, had the ability to open his anus to about a one-inch gape. He grunted and opened up his gut, well-irrigated by the recent scented enema, so that everyone could see inside. In went the pen, and his anus tightened around it. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The top of the pen now traced a wide circle, as if he was measuring the nighttime sky with a compass. Now it went back and forth in a straight line, and then in another line ninety degrees from the first one. Finally it traced out a “Z”.

Kevin clapped. Angela couldn’t help but laugh. Marikit was right. Kai-Kai was amazing!

The pen stopped and Kai-Kai caught his breath. Apparently that trick required a lot of internal muscle power.

“Well, young man, how about it? Next Sunday?”

“Um . . . Mrs. Abu Jamal wants me at her house then.”

“Oh come on! ”

“What are you talking about?” Angela said. She felt an outsider to this conversation. Duvon and Kevin had a bond with Kai-Kai that she didn’t share, by being fellow males, and also by being four years younger than she was.

“We want him to get drained by guys for a change,” Kevin said. “Where it’s just guys doing the sucking and the licking.”

“It’s a simple fact that guys know better what gets a guy off,” Duvon said. Though in Kai-Kai’s case, considering all the time and effort dozens of women had spent learning about his sexual responses, that statement was open to question.

Kai-Kai looked over at Duvon but his eyes were lost in thought. He was still on his back with his knees over his head, his penis and testicles dangling over his face, and Duvon’s pen in his butt, pointing up at the sky. He was so flexible, so alien to modesty, and so used to outdoor nudity, that it was no strain for him to stay in that position, surrounded by his fully clothed friends, stark naked on the table in the freezing cold.

“You’re not just the world’s sperm factory, you know,” Kevin said.

“Yeah — there’s more to life than knocking up the female United Nations,” Duvon added.

“There’s more to life than shooting your baby batter at 25,000 cervixes,” Kevin said.

“There’s more to life than stretching out vaginas of old ladies from around the world,” Duvon said.

“There’s more to life than blowing huge loads for crowds of cheering females,” Kevin said.

“There’s more to life than spreading the Huge Dick Gene,” Duvon said.

“There’s more to life than —shit I forgot what I was going to say,” Kevin laughed. He and Duvon had thought up dozens of these lines but now he drew a blank.

“OK that’s enough! ” Kai-Kai said, with a cute boyish giggle, unusual for him, that Angela found captivating. With this giggle Duvon’s pen waved back and forth with the motion of his internal muscles, like a dog’s tail wagging.

Duvon said, with more seriousness, “There’s being the Sire, and then there’s being Kai-Kai.”

Kai-Kai seemed intrigued. Angela thought: they had a point. Not all his sexual activity had to be geared toward being the Sire. He could ejaculate for fun, too.

Duvon removed the pen and Kai-Kai got back to sitting cross-legged, but not before rolling onto his knees and stretching to the sky, showing the concavity of his tummy, his penis almost swinging into Kevins’ face. This was, as always, unself-conscious but Kevin almost swooned. Finally acknowledging the cold, Kai-Kai hugged himself and rubbed his arms with his hands. “I’ll try anything once,” the naked boy said. “But I probably won’t have an orgasm.”

Everyone knew that Kai-Kai’s testicles were so productive that he had to ejaculate at least three times a day or they would ache. So Duvon said, “If we’re not getting anywhere we’ll call in the reserves. But I want you to give it a try.”


To Angela this seemed an important step toward Kai-Kai being assertive as to what he wanted, as opposed to what the Project wanted. Even if he was being talked into it by his gay friends. But maybe he wanted to be talked into it?

The chatter in the Guest House grew louder, all those womanly voices. Now the front door opened. “Come on, Kai-Kai,” Ms. Canworthy called out. It was time for the big welcome dinner at which the Sire would be the guest of honor, fawned over by women from all over the world.

“Showtime,” Kai-Kai said softly. “Bye, guys.”

Duvon and Kevin and Angela watched as the naked teenage boy hopped off the table, his penis swinging with his motions, and shuffled through the snow toward the Guest House where his fans were waiting — 41 P-3’s, women ages (this week) 32 to 45, from all over the world, who would cheer as he entered, causing this modest boy to blush from his head to his bare slushy toes.

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