Foreword
Ned Brooks was standing by himself well away from the main cruising area that was near Cherry Grove on Fire Island. He hadn’t wanted to piss in the same area where he so frequently fucked.
He heard a rustle in the bushes that startled him But he put it down as some small animal moving about in the underbrush. Then there was another rustle, louder this time.
All of a sudden, the bushes were alive with motion. Ned Brooks spun around, but it was too late.
Ned was a powerfully built man with well defined muscles, but he was no match for the five youths who attacked him. He thought that he might have been able to handle two or three, but five was just too much. After only a brief struggle, a hand was over his mouth and he wasn’t able to move.
There was a series of blows to his body, and he reeled with the pain of them. He didn’t know what these five youths wanted, but he was powerless to defend himself.
When the blows stopped, he heard a voice. “Let’s show the faggot what it feels like to get it from a real man,” it said.
Then his cutoffs were pulled down, and he was forced to bend over. He braced himself for the pain that was to come. He’d never particularly liked the day trippers who came to Fire Island Pines and Cherry Grove, and now a wave of hatred for these five came over him.
From behind him, he heard the sound of spitting, then he felt the cheeks of his ass being pulled apart. He swore that he’d get even with these punks if it was the last thing he did.
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