I was a young boy then, wandering through a smoky and rousing establishment in the dead of night, with the firm and unashamed intention of picking up the sexiest and lewd-looking young popper I could find. Then finally I found the boy, dancing by himself and not seeming to mind it much. He was following the deity of rhythm, bowing and paying tribute to the selector behind the wheels of steel. I jiggled up to his side and moved with him a bit. After a dozen rounds of drinks of every kind, color and mixture, I and he were sufficiently shifted into a kind of after-image of reality, with the colorful beams of alternating rainbows and the assault and pressure of the long-throw woofer banks.

Our vibes seemed compatible enough to take it past the dance. Without a word, we both made it to my waiting car, and not a word was said the rest of the night. I could barely keep my eyes on the road as I was being assaulted from below. My pants were pushed to the side like an incidental thing, and probing, eager fingers pried my cock out in an almost panicky, fumbling motion. Instantly my growing member reached to meet his soft, luscious mouth, and his tongue swirled in circles, wrapping around me with practiced, natural strokes. I almost went there and then, but he seemed to know when to back off and take me back down, shivering and licking his lips, savoring the leftovers. Somehow I made the drive back to my place.

We managed to wrestle our clothes off as there was no time to waste—our energies had merged and settled into a very natural rhythm. He was absolutely perfect in every way—smooth, pliant skin mounted on fit, muscular angles. His face was serene, yet puckish, and his eyes yielded to unknown depths. Our lovemaking was as if we had done it a thousand times before—I and he knew every move and every way to please.

We progressed easily through many positions and styles, and as he moved this way, I moved precisely to accommodate him. But then again when I was close, he moved off again and left me panting on my stomach. I could hear him working his way behind me and I knew what was coming next. He lifted me up on all fours with surprising strength and I gave out a gasp. I felt a splash of something warm and sticky on my ass, and I thought he had cum. But then I looked back and saw that it was only a great amount of pre-cum—this boy needed no lubrication I saw. I was about to prepare for this next trip but I looked back and my eyes caught the glimpse of something like a tentacle, oozing with a blue-ish neon liquid.

At the sight of this tentacle, this thing, this kind of thing that should not be there, I panicked and tried to move, but his hands had grasped me by my hips, holding me in place effortlessly. I looked back again and his arms had changed color to a sort of blue-purple hue, and his veins were luminescent green. I looked again at his swollen thing, and it was some sort of tentacle-like shaft, prehensile and moving back and forth, still dripping that neon blue.

As I was looking, another great burst of this pre-cum came forth and onto my back, then dripping onto my sides, and my back went completely numb. Seconds later I felt my body go very limp, and my willpower sank deeply. I tried to give a last formative shriek, and as I opened my mouth, another shot of the neon blue shot expertly through my lips, enveloping my tongue and mouth. I had no choice but to let it run down my throat as my mouth numbed, and then I was fixed.

I looked back again and saw his grin, ear to ear with his black teeth and intensely green eyes. Then it looked like he was taking a very deep breath, but then vomited up a great mass of white, stringy web, fixing my leg to the bed and hardening quickly into a sort of restraint. He repeated this for my hands and other leg, and then settled into position behind me. I watched as what I thought was his hard member was not hard at all, and it grew quickly into a monstrous entity, swirling and moving about and spurting up that neon sauce.

Then he opened his eyes and grinned again, and plunged his thing into my numb and relaxed end. He took my form and ravaged it, and I rocked with the movements. My insides were not numb, however, and I perceived the most intense, mounting rivers of pleasure as his tentacle took me. Finally he froze for a moment and then let out a deafening roar. I could feel a mass of his seed entering into me, again and again, for what seemed like hours. At the end of this motion, I felt a gagging reflex, and then my chest heaved as something worked its way up my throat with another gag. I spit it out and saw that it was neon blue.

As I registered this, I could feel another wave of the stuff coming up from my stomach, and I let it loose with a groan. I coated my bed in front of me with the stuff with every new gag, and as the gags built up in intensity, I noticed my cock was about to explode. With a last great heave of the cum from my insides, I came with unearthly power. I came twice more, one after another, and then I passed out.

It must have been hours later when I woke up. I was still bathing in something very slippery and cold. Then I remembered, and was frozen, listening. He was gone—there was no sound. After a while I noticed that my legs and arms were untied by the web, and I slowly moved to the bathroom to try and clean up. My legs were very shaky and still numb. I ran some water for a shower, and letting the water warm up I slowly examined myself for any scars. I saw nothing evident except the slime, and my ass was seemingly unaffected, if a little sore.

Then as I rinsed off my penis, I felt something different. I ran my hands over it and realized that my circumcision scar was gone, and the skin had gone very smooth. Instantly my breathing increased and I got hard again. Despite what had happened, all I could think about was that I wanted to go again. I closed my eyes and stroked, and it was very easy and slippery—from the water I assumed. I opened my eyes as I came and saw a streak of stuff leap from my end and hit the shower wall. It was neon blue.