Thai Boy Ch. 09 by tattoo_dragon

“Kun pra! Kun pra chuai!” He cried.

When he lowered himself down again, Gary dared to touch his cock.

Prasang gasped and it sprang to life immediately. As Gary caressed, it swelled up and lengthened at an amazing rate, like a balloon filling up with air.

Within seconds it was at full attention, pointing straight up at the sky, a sexual lightning rod that would light up at even the slightest touch. It was easily the same size as the plantain in Prasang’s ass if not bigger. Veins stood out all over and it throbbed, ticking with his increased heart rate like the stuck second hand of a clock.

Martin squeezed the engorged head just slightly. All of us gasped as the slit vomited a long stream of pre-cum that ran all the way down his shaft to his balls.

Martin whistled, impressed. “I’d say that’s done the trick, Jim, wouldn’t you?”

Prasang hung there with his eyes shut tight and his jaw hanging open. He breathed like a sleeping tiger.

All of the sudden he began to moan, loudly, desperately. His eyes popped open. “Ah…AYE!” He cried. “CHUY DUAY! PLEASE!”

I jumped to my feet and rushed around to see what was happening. “What is it, Prasang?” I genuinely wanted to know. I felt like a mad scientist delving into uncharted territory.

“PLEASE!” He begged me, “PLEASE, MASTER, PLEASE! I NEED TO COME! I NEED TO COME!”

He was panting so heavily that the scene was starting to look more like an exorcism than a birthing.

Prasang’s erection was bone hard, harder and thicker than I’d ever seen it. It was like a separate entity that had attached itself to his body and was sucking up all his life force. He was right, he needed to come.

Martin and Gary joined their hands together around this slobbering beast, completely slick now, not from oil but from barrels of pre-cum still streaming out of it. It pulsed in their grip as though beating with its own heart. Martin looked up at me, panting himself now. “Well, Master Jim, what do you say? Shall we give the poor boy release?”

They were waiting for me to give the word.. He looked desperate and almost crazed with desire. “PLEASE!” He bagged, “THA MAN TXN NI! DO IT, PLEASE!”

His body, mind, and soul were poised to do one thing and one thing only now: come.

My lip curled. I gave Martin and Gary a nod. They locked their fingers together around Prasang’s Frankenstein of a boner.

His face screwed up in total ecstacy and he growled like al lion. “ARR…AARRRHA!”

His eyes rolled back in his head until only the whites were visible. For a minute, I feared his head might start spinning.

Martin and Gary pumped Prasang’s slick shaft. His hefty balls bobbed up and down and the many clothespins stuck to them clacked together.

To this day, I have never heard someone cry out in the throngs of complete and total orgasmic nirvana the way Prasang did that night. His cries of sexual ecstasy echoed across the empty beach and carried through the sound of the waves. It was a thrilling and frightening experience that left me hard and trembling at the same time.

An eruption of white lava shot out of his cock and leapt high into the air. Then another, then another.

Prasang came stream after stream of creamy white bull’s milk that covered his chest, stomach and groin.

As he came, his mouth was frozen in a silent O.

A shudder went through him from his head to his feet as the last of his boiling hot spooge oozed out. His stomach swelled up and he let out a very big, “Aaaaaaah.”

Martin and Gary sat silently on either side of him, transfixed by what they had just witnessed. At last, they thought to release the boy’s manhood and allow it to rest on his pelvis where it very nearly touched his navel.

“Well,” Martin began at last, “I’d say the two of you more than delivered on your promise, well done, Jim…Prasang.” He held up his cum-covered hand, observing the way the milky white semen streamed over it. “I have to admit I am impressed.”

“Amazing,” Gary said as though he’d just witnessed a supernatural occurrence. “Amazing…”

After a moment of silence, we all erupted in applause. Martin and Gary clapped Prasang hard on the back and tousled his hair. “Good show, mate, that was incredible!” Prasang grinned a big, dopey spent grin as the two men congratulated him. His eyes were half closed and it looked like he might pass out.

He was, of course, covered in his own cum and I knew there was no time to lose.

I still had the packet of tissues I used earlier on the bus. Just like before, I started sopping up the cum on his chest and stomach. I worked quickly, not wanting to lose a drop.

When I had a nice big, sopping wet wad in my hand, I gave Prasang a big pat on the shoulder. “You should feel proud, Prasang. You promised me you’d come big and hard and you did. Do you feel proud?”

“Yes, master,” he said quietly, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Tell me you feel proud, Prasang.”

“I feel proud, master.”

Martin and Gary were still doting over him. “Good show, lad. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re a champion!”

A smile spread across my face. “Yes, of course. A champion. And as a champion, I want you to savor every last bit of your victory.” I lifted the huge, soggy ball of cum and tissue to his lips. “Open, Prasang.”

Prasang knew what I was going to do, but made no show of resistance this time.

Something of that amazing sexual electricity remained in his eyes and he looked at the big, nasty jizz ball with actual hunger. He popped his mouth open, ready to accept it.

I inserted the dripping wet mess into him.

“Keep it waded in your cheek like chewing tobacco,” I said, “Don’t swallow it. You are to just suck on it, understand? Just suck and savor every last little bit of your own yummy cum.”

“Yeth, ma-fer,” he said. I heard him sucking it as I had commanded, though he still grimaced. Even after forcing him to eat so much of his own cum on this trip, he still hadn’t quite acquired a taste for it.

I began making a second cum ball, scooping the healthy juice off his belly, when Gary reached for his own tissues. “Let me help you out.”

Soon, me and my two new companions were all wiping him clean with waded tissue, getting every last bit of moisture from his shaved groin and balls and where it had pooled in his navel.

I lifted up my boy’s big, limp tubesteak to make sure there was nothing underneath.

One after the other, we stuffed them into his mouth until for the second time that day his cheeks were bulging huge with jizz rags.

When it seemed we had cleared up every last drop, Prasang groaned as Martin gave his deflated cock a not too gentle squeeze and drew out a hidden goldmine of cum.

“There we go, just like squeezing a tube of toothpaste,” he said.

He shoved this last cum ball right under Prasang’s tongue. “Savor it, Prasang, you’ve earned it.”

“Does it taste good, Prasang?” I asked.

He said “yes, master,” but it just sounded like “mmf-mrm-oof.”

We told our sex toy to stay where he was, pinned between the two beach chairs, while the three of us began an impromptu photo shoot.

In the light of Martin and Gary’s lantern, we took turns posing with Prasang.

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