AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just so you don't get horribly confused, the story
takes place in an English independent school, where uniform is
compulsory, and consists of a black jacket and trousers, worn with a
white shirt and the school tie. The narrator is 16, and is most
definitely not me... ;) Also, English 'secondary' school pupils range
from 11 year old 'first years' to 18 year old 'sixth formers', for
anyone not familiar with the system. Also, it's set back in the early
to mid nineties, before widespread internet and mobile phone usage,
particularly among kids. I swear, it's so much easier for gay boys
to have a relationship these days!
Chapter 1
My heart was pounding as we entered the stall. It was a little cramped,
but easily big enough for what we wanted to do; the young boy I was
with had to squeeze himself into the corner, and I had to press myself
against him in order to close the door. Had I really thought about it,
I would have realised the irony of not wanting to crowd him, given
what we were there to do.
There was a hook on the back of the door, and we both hung our black
uniform blazers there, his looking shockingly small against mine. It
didn't put me off, though - in fact, quite the opposite.
I manoeuvred him around so that I could sit on the toilet seat,
with him standing in front of me, looking down at me expectantly.
He was a gorgeous, and rather skinny-looking first year, with short,
spiky blonde hair and the sort of nut-brown tan which only comes from
frequent holidays in the sun. His name was James, and he was, according
to my friend Paul who had put us together, quite a horny little lad who
liked playing with bigger boys. Since I was a bigger boy - at sixteen
- who liked playing with younger ones, it was a perfect fit.
He watched me, his eyes showing a hint of the nerves he must have been
feeling inside, as I reached out a hand and nudged aside the flap of
fabric over his fly. I found the little tag and slowly started to unzip
him, feeling the warmth and hardness of his juvenile spike pressing
against the back of my hand as I worked the zip past the lump beneath.
Oh yes, he was ready for this. Definitely ready.
The straining head of his penis poked the white fabric of his briefs
out through the hole in his fly. I unsnapped the clasp holding his
trousers up, and they fell down to his ankles to pool on top of his
shoes. He held his shirt and tie up out of the way with one hand while
he looked down at me in silence.
His boyhood formed a thin, hard ridge in his pants, and I took a moment
just to enjoy the sensation of running my fingertips along its shrouded
length. He gave out a barely audible gasp at the contact, and
pushed his hips slightly forward. I placed a finger and thumb each side
of the shaft and slowly worked them up and down, feeling his foreskin
slipping up and down over the flared ridge at the base of his
steel-hard helmet.
It was too hard to resist seeing it without his pants in the way, so I
reached up and pulled them off his hips. We both gave a short laugh
when it caught in the waistband of his pants, and then slapped up
against his tummy, the sound like gunfire in the confines of the stall.
I pushed his pants down past his knees and let them fall on top of his
trousers, then took in the wondrous sight of his naked crotch.
His dick was a shade shorter than three inches long, and pointed toward
the ceiling, with a long foreskin puckered over the head. Like the rest
of a speedo-shaped patch in his middle, it was a pale contrast to the
tanned skin of his torso and limbs. The finger-thin little rod of flesh
seemed to be vibrating as it jumped in time with his pulse. At its
base, the crinkled skin of his little scrotum was taut, his balls
pulled up tight within. I reached forward and gently pulled at the
skin, stretching it out and making his shaft bob down a little, as if
it was bowing to me.
With two fingers and a thumb I set to work gently waking him,
running his loose foreskin up and down over the head, watching with
delight as it poked out to greet me on each stroke. His knees bent and
he leaned forward over me, placing a hand on my shoulder as the
sensations became a little too much to bear.
He was a bit young to be making precum, so with his foreskin
pulled back I leaned forward to lubricate it with my mouth. As I
flicked my tongue over the head, he pushed insistently forward
with his hips, until my mouth closed around his shaft. The hand which
had been on my shoulder went to my head, and he held me in place as I
greedily suckled on his stiff little protuberance like a baby on a
nipple. With my nose in his crotch I smelled for the first time
something which I've since seen dozens of others commit to type -
the biscuity odour of young boys' privates. It was sweet and
musty, and can only be described that way, for nothing else
matches it. Overlying that was the flavour of him on my tongue,
itself unique - the salty flavour of his skin and the slight tang of
something else unidentified.
By the time he gave a muffled cry, and his dick bucked uselessly in my
mouth, he was holding the back of my head with both hands and thrusting
insistently with his hips. He fell on top of me, burying his face in
the crooked my neck and panting in my ear, arms
wrapped around my head.
"Thank you," he breathed at last.
He stood back up and smiled at me, as I rapidly undid my trousers and
pushed both them and my pants down around my ankles, exposing my rather
damp boyhood to the air. His eyes went wide and he grinned down at me,
and from the way his tongue wetted his lips, I knew he was
willing to repay the favour. In fact, he was about to kneel in
front of me and do just that when the thunderous clatter of the toilet
door being slammed against the wall interrupted us.
It was followed by the high pitch chatter of two young lads going to
the urinals. I could hear them unzipping, and the splash of
their streams hitting porcelain. Nervous of discovery, I
turned James around and sat him down on my lap, my stiff five inches
smearing clear lubricant all over his lower back as I pulled him to me.
I made him lift his feet up to rest on my knees, and wrapped my arms
around him to keep him safe.
"What do you think their dicks look like?" I whispered in James' ear as
the boys went about their business. "Reckon they have hair yet?
Reckon they get them hard and play with each other after school, or
come in the stalls at lunchtime and suck each other off?"
James shivered in my arms, excited by the thought of the boys playing
sexy games together. I reached my left hand down and found his willy
still sticking proudly up, and with my right hand I traced fingertips
down from his wrinkled sack, across his perineum and to the pucker of
his anus. I ran my fingers around the ridged skin there, and to my
surprise felt it bloom open. He was too dry to dare push a finger in,
but I was prepared for that. Reaching down, I found the little tube of
lube in my trouser pocket, and once I'd managed to coat my finger, I
went back to my task.
By this time the other boys had left, so I made him stand up and lean
forward with his hands against the back of the door. Still sitting on
the toilet, I had the perfect position to gently probe around his hole,
and then slowly push a finger inside. He moved away from the
sensation at first, making a little moaning sound in the back of his
throat, but then something flipped inside, and he was pushing his arse
back onto my finger. At that age I didn't know what a prostate
was, but I certainly knew where to find it, and how much James would
love it when I did, so I curled my finger downward and was rewarded
with a whimper as I hit the spot.
"James, does Paul ever do you in the bum?" I whispered to him, as I
massaged the tense little knot inside his rectum.
He nodded.
"Can I do it?"
Another nod, more enthusiastic than the first. My heart
pounded at the realisation that I was going to fuck a young boy for the
first time in my life. I knew the mechanics from messing around with
boys my own age, but this was going to be the first time my conquest
had been a hairless little preteen; this was something else altogether.
I worked the finger around and about, in and out, until his hole
was loose and squelched with each intrusion. A second finger
slipped in next to the first easily enough, and I soon had him
loosened up well enough for my slender young dick.
I decided that I would have him sitting in my lap, facing away from me,
so it was a simple matter of having him sit down on my shaft. He
put his hands on my thighs, and then carefully lowered himself until
the tip of my dick pressed in between his cheeks and nestled against
his pucker. I heard him groan as the blunt object pushed its way into
his hole, and then slowly he began to lower himself.
It was sheer agony for me as his sphincter spread around the head of my
dick and oozed down onto the shaft. I wanted to plunge into him, but
instead had to let him dictate the pace. He lowered himself slowly all
the way down, until my soft brown bush of pubes was squashed up against
his arse. Finally he let himself down all the way and gave an enormous
sigh.
We sat that way for a while. I grew bold and kissed the lobe of his
ear, and he sighed again, closing his eyes and letting his head fall
back against my shoulder.
"You're not as big as Paul is," he whispered at last. "And you're
nicer. It doesn't hurt like when Paul does it. It feels nice, actually."
I've never been so pleased to know that I don't compare size-wise. I'd
always known I had a bit of a small dick, though I was sure I had
a bit of growing left in me. But now I was hearing that it was a good
thing I wasn't any bigger, and I was so happy that he was enjoying
rather than enduring our coupling.
I made a gentle thrust, rolling my hips back and then forward, removing
an inch and then returning it to him, over and over again. So worked up
was I by our clandestine meeting, and by all that had happened over the
last fifteen minutes, that in no time at all I was holding his hips,
pulling him down to get as much as I could inside him while I swelled
and delivered my load into the heat of his backside.
As I came down from my head-spinning high, James sighed again, and
leant back against my chest. I looked down to where his soft dick lay
across his hip, and saw the faintest trace of moisture at its tip. He
grunted when I softened and slipped out of him, and leaned over to grab
some toilet roll to plug the gaping hole in his arse, which was already
leaking cum.
By the time he was steady enough to stand again, lunchtime was almost
over. He dressed himself quickly, avoiding eye contact, and left
without another word. At the time I was too inexperienced to realise
that it was guilt which had driven him away. Guilt, because he had
loved being taken up the bum.
Chapter 2
I wanted more. I needed more. I wanked off at every opportunity to
the memory of the encounter with James, but nothing compared to
the real thing. Nothing felt quite like the sensation of
being buried to the hilt in his hot, soft backside. It was to be
two weeks of increasingly desperately asking Paul to hook me up with
the boy again before I would get the chance for just that.
It happened outside, under the cover of that most British of lunchtime
schoolboy pursuits - a game of football. Our school had massive playing
fields which were separated from a golf course by a narrow strip of
woodland. Entry to the woods was absolutely forbidden to boys, and
there was a large fence intended to prevent our egress, but that was
never going to be enough to stop boys who wanted it enough, especially
when the ball was kicked into the trees and we had to get it back.
All sorts of legends abounded about the woods. Rumour had it that there
was an entire black market in cigarettes, alcohol and porn thriving
there, though I'd never actually spoken to anyone who'd
successfully bought any of those things in the woods. Still, the
rumours persisted, and there was definitely something going on in
there. It turned out that on this particular Thursday afternoon, I was
going to find out what some of the boys, at least, were getting up to.
I was a regular in the football game, but it was a bit of a surprise to
see Paul there. He wasn't the most sportingly inclined, although he did
enjoy cross country running, in which he had some ability. Still,
it wasn't as though he wasn't allowed to play. He gave me a curt nod,
but showed no other sign that we were anything more than
classmates.
Before long, a particularly optimistic shot sent the ball flying into
the woods, and a small search party went off looking for it. I was
happy to let them go, having had nothing at all to do with the mishap,
but Paul walked past me and urgently whispered,
"Come with me!"
I wasn't about to stop him and ask why. Instead, I followed like an
obedient little puppy. Inside the woods it was dim and cool, much more
pleasant than the baking sun beneath which we played our game. I
followed hot on Paul's heels, as we wound our way away from the search
team, deeper into the woods, until we saw a little building.
I down know what the structure was originally; a hut for the
groundskeeper of the golf course, maybe? Whatever its purpose, the
woodland had reclaimed it now, and it was all but overrun with ivy. As
we drew closer, Paul raised a finger to his lips to tell me to be
quiet, and then pointed to his ear as if to say 'listen'.
I did just that, as we stood ten yards from the building, and was
rewarded by the sounds of juvenile lovemaking - the rhythmic slap of
flesh upon flesh, and the whimpering of boys in pleasure so great it
verged on pain. I turned to Paul, who grinned like the Cheshire Cat. He
leaned in and whispered in my ear.
"Go up to the side, there's a window there."
I did as he suggested, having to stand on tiptoe to see through
the dirty pane of glass, but pleased I made the effort when I saw what
was going on inside.
At some point in the past, an enterprising soul - it could have been
Paul for all I know, or a tramp - had dragged an old mattress into
the middle of the hut. It lay among a scattering of old newspapers and
beer and coke cans, and using it today were James and another boy from
his year I only barely recognised. And they sure as hell weren't
using it to sleep on.
James was on all fours, with the other lad merrily pounding him
doggy-style. Both still had on most of their uniform, their only
concession to nudity being trousers and pants pulled down to the knees.
It was an incredibly erotic sight, knowing that beneath the cover of
the other boy's shirt, he would be shoving his little spike as
deep as he could into James' arse. And clearly the boy who I had fucked
a fortnight before was absolutely loving it, if his panting and moaning
were anything to go by.
It was the other boy who finished first, though, suddenly stopping
and saving his hips forward, shuddering with the effort of burying
himself as deeply into James' arse as he could possibly manage. He
shoved a few more times, as if trying to enter James with his whole
body, then collapsed forward on James' back.
When he had regained his composure, he lifted himself up and stuffed
what looked like a reasonably big-for-his-age dick back into some
ridiculous cartoon boxer shorts, before pulling up his trousers and
tucking in his shirt. He said something to James, who sat on the floor
on his backside, wanking his unsatisfied little spike rapidly,
trying to get some relief.
The other boy left the scene and jumped in surprise when he saw me
standing around the corner. There was fear in his eyes, but when he
looked past me to where Paul still stood a little way off, there was a
glimmer of something else. He hurried past me, though I paid no more
attention to him; I was far more interested in getting inside the hut.
James looked up at me is surprise when I walked in through the door. I
don't think he was expecting me, but a grin spread across his face when
he recognised me.
"Want a proper dick up your bum?" I said to him as I pushed the door
shut behind me.
He nodded and grinned, and fell onto his back, lifting up his legs and
presenting me with his gaping hole. I knelt down in front of him and
pulled off his school shoes, then his trousers and pants so
they would't get in the way. He looked so sexy, lying there in
his white shirt and school tie, with grey socks his only other
adornment. He looked up at me expectantly as I shoved my own clothes
off, then leaned forward over him.
He took me easily enough; the other boy's dick had obviously been a
good size for his age, because James was easily loose enough for me to
shove myself in, in three simple thrusts, one after the other. I looked
down at him and his eyes were totally unfocussed, his mouth hanging
open.
"You really do like this, don't you?" I asked, surprised that he would
get so much out of being fucked.
He blushed and looked away, not wanting to make eye contact, but he
nodded very slightly anyway.
"You're really sexy, you know?" I said as I began to slide in and out.
His blush only deepened, but now at least there was the hint of a smile
on his lips.
I was amazed when he came. I'd heard of it, but in all my messing
around with boys my own age, I'd never known anyone get off just
from taking it up the bum. But James did, and then again before I
finally shivered my own way to my climax. He was exhausted, sweaty and
tired out by the time I was done. I couldn't resist hugging him,
because I felt sorry for him. I knew he wanted what he'd got, but it
seemed to take so much out of him. He lay there without hugging me
back, the guilt plain to see on his face. Clearly he was still having
trouble accepting what he did when he was horny.
He left before I did. At least this time he said goodbye, though there
were no plans for a repeat performance. When I left I was surprised to
find Paul and the boy who'd been fucking James around the corner of the
hut. The younger boy was on his knees, dreamily sucking a load out
of Paul's impressively sized dick. When Paul came, I saw another
first - the boy happily drank it down rather than spitting it on
the floor, and showed his empty mouth to Paul for approval.
Well, if I wasn't horny enough already, that got me going again
straight away, and a few seconds later I was leaning against the same
wall with the boy's hot, soft, wet lips running up and down my dick.
Chapter 3
It wasn't enough. I wanted more of him. I managed to get him to follow
me to the toilets a couple of times during lunch to suck him
off quickly, but there was never enough time for a fuck, and I
couldn't very well invite him around to my house after school. Imagine
my delight, then, when we both turned up for the first meeting about
the ski trip.
Each year the school organised a trip to the Alps in France to go
skiing. They subsidised the scholarship kids, and the rest of us were
well enough off to pay for it ourselves. It had been on one of these
trips three years before that Paul and I first hooked up, although with
him it was always a matter of convenience more than anything else - I
was into boys, and willing to play with him, and that was all that
mattered. He didn't actually have to like me, or for me to like him,
for it to be fun. I wasn't quite the same way, but I wasn't
going to turn down a sickened the occasional fuck.
Anyway, the trip was a great chance to get to know other boys behind
closed doors, if you liked that sort of thing, so when I saw James
grin at me across the room at the first planning meeting for those
boys going on the trip, my heart leapt into my mouth. We would be gone
for a whole week, during which time we would have whole evenings to
while away in the hotel. It was inconceivable that
we wouldn't get together at least once.
It was a painful wait for the trip to happen, punctuated by a few brief
trips to the woods, just long enough for me to fill up his
backside with my cum. But eventually we were on our way, on the coach
all the way across France.
When we got there, Paul revealed that he'd managed to get he
and I put in the same room, which gave us at least one safe place to
take our conquests without interference, even if he and I no longer
hooked up. No, he wanted something a little older, a boy with some
hair and some cum, while my desires remained firmly fixated on one
boy alone.
There was a huge bathtub in the ensuite, and I grabbed the first
turn, wanting to sit in the hot water to ease away he cramp
from being trapped in the coach for a day. While I lay there
idly fondling my dick and thinking of James, I heard a knock on
our room door, followed by some muffled talking. I thought I heard
James' voice, but couldn't be certain, and didn't want to move to
find out.
Within a couple of minutes, though, I could hear panting, and then the
slap of flesh on flesh, and a high pitched moaning. Shortly after,
I heard a low grunt and a squeak of pain, followed by the exhalation of
breath which often comes with an orgasmic release. All went quiet for a
few minutes, and then there was a knock on the bathroom door.
"Come in," I called out, certain that whoever it was, I wouldn't care
that much about them seeing me in the bath.
When the door opened, it was James who stood there. He wobbled
slightly, even though he was standing still, and couldn't
quite hold himself upright, leaning on the frame of the door for
support. He was dressed in only a t-shirt and a pair of white sports
socks, and a dribble of semen ran down the inside of his thigh.
"Are you OK?" I asked, genuinely concerned for the boy.
"I owed him," he replied. "Not doing that again."
He tottered forward and shut the door behind himself.
"What do you mean you owed him?" I asked, finding myself furious that
Paul had hurt the boy.
"Can I get in?" he countered, ignoring my question.
I nodded and made room for him. He shed what little clothing he had
left on, and climbed in, sitting down with his back to me and
leaning back against my chest. He grabbed my arms and wrapped them
around himself, moaning slightly as the hot water caressed
his bruised hole.
"He's too big," James said after a few minutes' silence. I had to agree
- mine was a slender five, a thin finger compared to Paul's thick
seven. I imagine it must have hurt him to take even an inch when it was
that big around.
"What did you mean when you said you owed him?" I asked
again, but James just shook his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"Shh. Doesn't matter," he said. "Yours now. You'll do it gently."
A few minutes later I realised that the exhausted boy had fallen
asleep right there in the bath. I let him stay until the water was
too cool, then woke him and found the remainder of his clothes
abandoned on the floor in the middle of the room. I helped him get
dressed, and took him back to his room, dropping him into bed. He was
asleep before his head had even hit the pillow. Making sure no-one saw,
I leaned down to kiss his forehead.
---
The next day was uneventful, just involving picking up skis and looking
round the town, with a little bit of skiing in the afternoon for the
more experienced among us. But it was the evening I was looking forward
to, as we were left to our own devices, and that inevitably meant
seeing James again. Paul and I were in our room after dinner, lounging
around on our beds, reading and chatting when there was a knock on the
door. I opened it to a wonderful sight - James stood there grinning, a
devilish look in his eyes, and with him was a slightly older boy.
"Hi," James said, wandering in uninvited, and turning to his companion,
beckoning him in, too. "This is Matt, my roommate."
Matt looked a little older than James, probably 13 or so. He
was stockily built, but not fat, and wasn't all that attractive,
but he was entirely Paul's type. I saw him checking the boy out
from the first second Matt walked into the room.
I didn't even know whether or not Matt would
be interested in doing what us boys did, but that didn't stop Paul
latching on to him and trying to get into his pants. James and I sat on
my bed and watched on from the other side of the room as Paul went to
work with Matt on the other.
"Hi Matt," he said with a warm smile. "You know, it's good you're here.
You can settle something for us."
Matt looked slightly taken aback. I got the feeling he wasn't
used to being talked to this way by boys three years his senior.
"Um, OK," he said, looking to James for reassurance; he really didn't
have any self confidence.
"Great," Paul said, keeping up the bright-and-cheerful act. "The only
thing is, it's a bit of a grown up thing. You know how us older
boys talk about our dicks and stuff all the time, right?"
Matt was now looking absolutely out of his depth. He had no idea that
we did nothing of the sort, but he couldn't lose face by admitting as
such.
"Uh, yeah, of course."
"OK, cool. I just didn't want you to think I was being all gay when I
asked you, that's all."
"Oh, OK. Yeah," Matt said, looking less and less like
he understood what was going on with every passing second.
"Great. It's just that I was telling Tom fat lads have fatter dicks,
and he didn't believe me. You're quite big, do you have a really
fat dick?"
Matt was flabbergasted. His mouth dropped open, and he looked as
though he was trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come out.
Finally, he managed to whisper,
"Um, I don't know if it's any bigger than anyone else's."
"I bet it is," Paul said, grinning at the boy. "Go on, show us."
The genius was in the way he said it, as if it was a completely normal
request, like asking someone to pass you the salt at dinner. With most
boys it wouldn't have worked, but Paul had Matt dangling like a puppet
on a string. He'd acted like his friend, not his superior, had
inadvertently complimented the boy on the size of his dick without
ever having seen it, and was now acting as though Matt dropping his
pants was nothing much of interest, just a way to prove a point.
Uncertainly, but without any sign that he was ever really going to
refuse, Matt stood up by the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed
them down his chunky thighs, and then took his boxer shorts by the
waist and peeled them down, too. He stood there not quite sure what to
do with his hands, raising and lowering them, and almost covering
himself up. I glanced to my right and saw James' hand tugging at
a protuberance in his pants.
Matt's dick was, just as Paul had suggested, slightly fatter than a
normal boy's, though no longer. It was just a couple of inches long,
but sat plumply on a nicely filled but hair-free sack which was drawn
up tightly beneath. A little dusting of light brown pubic hairs
completed Matt's crotch, and what a lovely sight it was, too.
"See," Paul said, reaching out to tug possessively at Matt's little
worm without bothering to ask permission. I could see Matt flinch, but
he didn't pull away, and after a moment the hint of a smile curled
the corner of his lips as his pride and joy bobbed and inflated.
Paul kept gently waking the boy as if it was the most ordinary
thing in the world.
James couldn't resist joining him, grinning at his roommate as he,
too, denuded his midsection, and went to work tugging at his little
hairless spike. Matt's eyes went wide for a second, but then he grinned
back at James, and as the new boy's excitement grew,
his inhibitions diminished.
He might well have been shocked at what happened next, but if he was, I
wasn't facing him to see it. I rolled onto the floor between James'
legs and hoovered his little willy into my mouth, sucking for all
i was worth and bobbing my head up and down. James grabbed a couple of
handfuls of my hair and started pumping his hips up at my face, making
a real show of enjoying it so that Matt felt a little
less nervous about what was going on.
A couple of minutes later I heard Matt groan, and looked round just in
time to see a little fountain of mostly clear cum jet out of his
dick and all over the floor in little droplets. It happened twice
more, a little less jizz flying each time, until he pushed
Paul's hand away, squeezing out the last residues himself and shaking
them onto the floor. He looked horrified at what had happened, and I
could see the telltale signs of guilt beginning to work in his mind.
"Have you ever fucked anyone, Matt?" I asked, trying to defuse his
feelings of anxiety about what had just happened to him.
He was surprised by the question, and just stammered.
"I'll take that as a 'no', then," I said, turning to James. "Want to be
his first?"
"Yeah, cool!" James said, and as if to demonstrate his
willingness, lifted his feet up above himself and worked his jeans
and pants off, throwing them onto the floor. He held his legs up there,
and as I watched, his well trained anus twitched and then gaped open.
Paul brought Matt over to us. The newcomer's dick had deflated
completely by now, but as Paul talked him through what was going to
happen, it jumped once or twice, then quickly rose back to full mast.
Up close, I could see how nice it was - it was an inch or so shorter
than mine, I reckoned, which made it about a four, but it was just as
fat if not fatter. It had the look of becoming something impressive in
time, and already had the kind of solidity which meant it couldn't
hold itself up.
With Paul giving the instructions, Matt moved between James' legs and
bent his knees slightly to line the head of his dick up with the
younger boy's ready hole. It slid in easily, until Matt's sparse bush
was tickling James' perineum.
The look on Matt's face was priceless.
"Oh my God!" he said, finding his voice at last. "Oh my God, that feels
good!"
"Go on, hump me now," James said, grinning up at him. Matt did just
what he was asked, and with gusto, and as he got used to the action, he
began to give his preteen partner a pleasant, dick-stiffening fuck.
James, always one to take pleasure from being rammed, had clearly found
a good fit with Matt's dick, because each time his roommate managed to
his his prostate, the younger lad's dick jumped back to full
hardness.
Matt, his passion diffused by his earlier cum, would have been happy to
go on for ages, but James' sudden pleasure brought the whole thing to a
rousing climax. Already worked up from me fellating him, and
now enjoying waking himself while his little prostrate was
taking a battering, James suddenly gasped and squeezed shut his
eyes, and moaned loudly as he came. The suckling twitches of his
backside as his orgasm hit were too much for Matt, who stopped dead
still and let them take him over the top with a whispered 'oh shit!'.
James' dick hadn't hardened fully, and bounced around on his tummy,
dribbling out a couple of clear droplets of cum. It was the first I'd
ever seen him take, and heedless of how it would look to Matt - who,
despite everything, was still very new to all this - I leaned forward
and lapped them up, eager to sample the new emission. It was as
delicately tangy and salty as I could have hoped, and I suckled his
little willy in the hope of getting some more. When I lifted my head,
Matt was staring at me open-mouthed. I just shrugged and grinned at him.
With his balls completely drained and having cum twice, Matt's desire
was completely diminished, and so no amount of cajoling could persuade
him to stay and watch what happened next. James gave me a curious look
of longing, but he was tired, and decided to go back to their room with
Matt, leaving Paul and I horny and without any boys to relieve our
tension. Frustrated, we retired to my bed and had an exhausting but
unsatisfying sixty-nine before we, too, hit the sack.
---
The following day, James came and sat on our table for breakfast,
though the unspoken rules of our secret liaisons meant that he couldn't
risk treating us too familiarly. I'd love to have sat there and chatted
away to him, but there was no legitimate reason to have known him, and
so despite giving each other a few grins and winks, we weren't able to
behave the way we wanted.
I hardly remember the day's skiing, because my mind was focussed on
nothing more than getting back that evening and waiting for James to
come to our room. Curiously, Paul decided not to wait and see what
happened, and disappeared shortly before he urned up, apparently off to
find a friend. Given how vague he was, he had no doubt arranged some
sort of illicit rendezvous with some horny young lad. I always
marvelled at his ability to find new boys to play with - James was the
first one outside my school year I'd ever done it with, and I saw
no way of finding another, other than asking Paul.
But I digress. The soft knock I was hoping for came only a few minutes
after Paul had left, and I opened the door to a mouth-watering sight -
both James and Matt had come this evening, and neither was making much
effort to hide the lump in his jeans. The rushed past into the room,
and I closed the door behind them.
When I turned around and pushed my jeans and pants to the floor, Matt
gave a gasp and James grinned at me, and gave a little 'yesss!'. He was
horny as hell, and stood in the middle of the room doing his best sexy
striptease, until all he was left wearing were his white socks and a
cheeky grin. His little bone pointed almost vertically up, and as he
continued to dance he slowly wanked himself off.
Matt was once again in shock, though why he was surprised was beyond
me, after everything we'd done the day before. As I watched James
gyrate sexily, I ran my fist up and down my dick, squeezing out a pearl
of precum and lifting it to my lips. I raised an eyebrow to Matt, and
indicated with my expression that I expected him to disrobe, too.
He did so quickly, standing from where he was sitting on the bed and
shoving his jeans down to the floor, before sitting again and covering
himself up demurely. I suppose I could understand his reticence - he
was still unsure, and needed to get horny before he let himself off the
leash.
James was at the other end of the scale, of course, and was always
ready for something. He walked over to me and leaned forward, taking
the top half of my dick into his mouth, pulling back and running his
lips in a tight seal up the length of me, sucking off a dribble of
precum at the top. Then he sucked hard and reversed the action, until
the head of my dick bumped into the back of his mouth.
I thought he might suck me all the way off, but he had other ideas.
"Matt wants you to fuck him," he said, as he lifted off, swallowing the
saliva which had flooded his mouth at the taste of my cock.
"No I don't!" Matt protested, going red. He looked frightened, but
James just grinned.
"Yeah, you do. You said you wanted to."
"No I didn't! I just asked you what it was like!"
James giggled, enjoying teasing his roommate.
"I said the only way to find out was to let him do it," James said,
with a wink to me. "And you didn't say anything, so that means you want
to do it."
"Oh yeah," I chimed in, trying to sound like the authority on being
fucked. "Absolutely. Don't worry, you'll love it."
Matt still looked uncertain, but James went over and sat next to him. I
don't know what he whispered in Matt's ear, but after a minute a smile
crept onto the older boy's face, and then not long after he was
nodding.
"OK," James said, taking charge in a way which was cute and curiously
arousing, "you need to turn over on the bed and put your bum in the
air."
Matt did as he was told, and I stiffened even more at the sight of his
exposed hole. It didn't open like a flower, in the way James' did, but
there would be plenty of time to make that happen. His smooth little
sack dangled below, and his flaccid little boy tool hung just beyond,
only the very tip of his foreskin visible below the edge of his scrotum.
I found Paul's lube in his bed, and squeezed some out onto James'
finger, reasoning that his thin little digits would hurt the least.
Matt still jumped and moved his arse away from the intrusion, when it
came, but eventually James was able to push at first one, and then two
fingers in. In reality, as with many chubby boys, it was really quite
easy to open him up, and when I pushed first one and then another of my
bigger fingers into him, he barely made a sound.
Before I took his backside, I curled my fingers down and pressed them
into his prostate. The effect was immediate, and he whimpered with the
sudden, intense sensation. I assaulted the little lump for a minute
longer, until I milked a glistening bead of precum out of the tip of
his limp little dick to fall onto the bedsheets below. James giggled
and grinned at the sight, and leaned in under his friends backside to
suckle at Matt's dick like a calf taking milk from a cow.
When it was obvious that Matt was as loose as he needed to be, and
wasn't going to get any more ready, I made him stand so I could lie
down on the bed on my back, then got him to kneel above my crotch
facing away from me. I lifted my dick up and James guided Matt back
onto it, until he was sitting on the very tip. With gentle pressure
downward, Matt slid down until about half my dick was up his bum. He
stopped there, panting with discomfort, but only a short while later I
felt him pressing down again, and this time I slipped all the way
inside.
Grabbing Matt's shoulders, I made him lie down on my front, and gently
began to thrust into him from behind, while I tried to bring his limp
little dick back to life. Seeing what I was trying to do, James knelt
on the bed and sucked Matt's dick into his mouth, and in no time at all
had it standing up, fat and proud, a four inch boy pole to be proud of.
James wasn't done being helpful, though, and manoeuvred himself around
into the sixty-nine position, forcing his dick into Matt's mouth while
he continued to suck.
I just lay there under two horny boys and thrust my hips up into one of
them, feeling the sensations slowly building. Funnily enough, it was
James who came first, crying out and thrusting his hips into poor
Matt's face. I saw him climbing off, his dick already deflating, and
moving down to kneel next to Matt's dick again. This time he wanked him
off, gleefully pumping Matt's foreskin up and down until with a sharp
cry and several agonisingly wonderful spasms inside his arse, he came.
His little jets of semen sprayed up into the air like a fountain again,
landing with a soft patter all over his chest and stomach, and that was
my cue to lose it in his behind, grabbing him to me in a bear hug and
filling him with my load in a series of long, surging volleys of cum.
Afterwards, the guilt kicked in, and he left almost straight away,
stopping only to sit on the toilet and push as much of my seed out of
him as he could. I tried to make him stay, but he wasn't having any of
it, and left James and I alone.
When he was gone, the naked little preteen came to stand between my
legs where I knelt on the bed. His dick was back at full mast, pointing
straight up at my face when I looked down between our bodies. When I
looked back up, his eyes were boring into mine.
"I'm glad he's gone," he said, in a surprisingly childish tone, filled
with jealousy. "Now I don't have to share you any more."
I reached my hands around behind him, and cupped the pert little
backside I'd plundered less often than I'd have liked.
"Well, yeah," I said, "but you're the one who invited him here. Maybe
you shouldn't've done that if you didn't want me fucking him."
"Just thought you would like him, that's all. He has a bigger dick than
me, and he shoots properly, and has hair. Thought you would prefer him
to me."
I looked deep into those eyes, trying to fathom why my heart had just
leapt into my throat. Then, of course, it hit me - I didn't want to see
James so much because I was desperate to get him into bed, but rather
because I liked him. A lot. Liked him in a kind of 'loved him' way.
Actually, it wasn't even that vague.
"James," I said, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, "I need to tell you
something. Something really important. I don't just want to see you
because we want to have sex. And I don't just have sex with boys
because I can't get girls. I'm... well, I'm pretty sure I'm gay, and I
like you. Y'know, in a boyfriend and boyfriend kind of way."
There, it was out there. Everything was on the line. James had shown an
extreme capacity for horniness, but that meant nothing at all about his
sexuality. I might just have been a convenient release valve for him.
My life was in his hands. He could crush me, or he could send me
soaring to euphoric new heights.
He said nothing, but stared back at me. There were the beginnings of
tears in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. He looked down
and reached out to touch my penis, which stiffened at the contact. He
played with it idly as he twisted side to side, apparently trying to
think of something to say. I tried to remain calm and not to freak him
out further, but it was difficult with the sensations his fingertips
were giving me. He breathed in deeply, and then sighed, sounding as if
he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"When I first did it with Paul," he said after a moment, "he said it
wasn't gay to do it. He told me he just wanted to see my willy, and
touch it, and if I let him, he would get me a Playboy centrefold."
I raised my eyebrows. In the days before the internet, to a horny young
boy that was something truly to be desired. In James' case, he'd
obviously thought it was worth letting himself get molested for.
"Did you ever get it?"
"No, he never gave it to me. He just kept saying he would get something
else, something bigger. First it was like, a whole magazine, then it
was a video, and then the last thing was he let me do his sister."
At that point my mouth dropped open.
"Is that what you meant when you said you owed him?"
"Yeah," James nodded. "I did it with her a few days before the trip.
Paul said he had to do me one more time though."
"How old is she? Was it good?"
"It was OK, I suppose," James shrugged. "She's ten. She's done it
before, though. Like, with a grown-up."
It didn't actually surprise me all that much to hear that Paul's little
sister was quite well experienced; he seemed to have the kind of family
where that was bound to happen.
"You don't sound convinced about it," I said, teasingly.
James head shot up, and he stared at me accusingly.
"I thought you would get it!" he spat at me.
"Get what?"
But he didn't answer with words. He sunk to his knees on the coarse
carpet of the hotel room and lowered his mouth over the head of my
dick, pulling back up and hoovering the blood into my shaft until it
was fit to burst. He started to bob rapidly up and down, and when the
inevitable happened, he looked me directly in the eye and swallowed
everything I had to give him. Then he stood up, pushed me by the
shoulders until I was lying on the bed and climbed up next to me,
snuggling into my side. He didn't say anything, but then he didn't need
to.
Chapter 4
I woke in the morning to a wonderful experience - a soft, preteen
fist wrapped around my morning hard-on, moving slowly up and down.
His head was on my shoulder, and his little spike poked into my hip. He
was watching what he was doing, and perhaps hadn't noticed me waking,
why was probably why he jumped slightly when I kissed him on the top of
his head. He looked up at me, and said, simply,
"Morning," before going back to the task at hand.
I never did find out how we got away with it. One of the strictest
rules of the trip was that each boy should be back in his own room
before 10pm, but if the knock had come at our door to check,
I hadn't heard it the night before. However it had come about,
James had spent the night snuggled into my side, and when he had woken
before me, had decided to have a play with his new toy.
He moved down my side, and got a closer look at my now perfectly stiff
shaft. He poked his finger into the pucker of my foreskin, and in a
move which has always been guaranteed to push me right to the edge,
stuck it all the way inside and ran it around the ridge of my glans. I
groaned and arched my back, ready to explode at any moment.
Then he stopped, all of a sudden, and turned to me. He looked serious,
hesitant.
"Can I... could I... y'know, do you? Like, in the bum?"
His hesitancy was cute, but also alarming. Clearly he wasn't used
to being the top.
"Have you ever done it before?"
"Er, no, not with a boy. I mean, I did Paul's sister, but that was
in her fanny, not her arse."
"Go on then," I said, and he jumped off the bed with a grin, his little
spike leading the way as he hunted for the tube of lube. When he had
it, he squeezed some onto his finger, and I started to roll over
onto my stomach.
"No, don't!" she said. "Do it on your back. I want to do it that way
round."
So I obliged, lifting my knees and feeling the cold hit of
the lube on my sensitive pucker, before his finger was gently, but
insistently pushed inside. He looked so cute, sitting there with his
boner pointing skywards, and the tip of his tongue poking out of the
corner of his mouth as he concentrated on getting me ready to take him.
To be fair, he took far longer than he needed, because his little thing
felt thinner going in than his finger had. But he was careful, and
loving, and gentle, and smiled down at me as he flexed his hips and
humped me. I looked down to where his penis entered my body, past his
beautifully defined abs, and my breath caught in my throat -
it was an intensely erotic sight, far sexier than I imagined
it being. Of course, James was prone to cumming rather
quickly, and this day was no different - only a few minutes after
pushing through the resistance in my rear, he was shuddering and
jerking, and spraying a couple of tiny little droplets of cum up my
arse. Not that I felt it going in of course.
He collapsed on top of me, and I pulled him up until his head was on my
shoulder, wrapping my arms around him, hugging him tightly to me, and
planting a kiss on his forehead. He lay there for a while, until his
breathing had claimed down, then looked up at me.
"You haven't got off yet!" he said with a mischievous twinkle
in his eye. He reached behind himself, grabbing my hand and sliding it
down his back until it rested on the delicious curve of his rump.
"I want you to do it in there," he declared.
I looked down at him, quite happy to fulfil his wish, but it had a
condition attached. I pushed his shoulder until he lay on his back, and
leaned over him. Slowly, deliberately, half expecting him to stop me at
any second, I leaned down and kissed him.
He kissed back, gently at first, then greedily, frantically, as he
realised how good it felt. Eventually I broke the embrace so that we
could both breathe. I looked down at him, and whispered,
"I love you."
"I love you, too," he giggled. "Are you going to bum me now, or what?"
Chapter 5
I never thought it would change so much, but declaring to
James that I loved him, and hearing that it was reciprocated, made
a huge difference to our relationship. Social convention be damned! We
hung around together at breakfast, lunch and dinner, and afterwards. No
longer were we confined to our room in an orgy of lovemaking either.
Somehow things were more relaxed, ran at an easier pace. We would
still retire to my room at night and make love beneath the covers, but
there was no sense of urgency about it any more. We could sit
back, take our time and enjoy it.
We even started being somewhat social, joining the majority of the
other members of our group in the hotel lobby after dinner, so that we
could partake in whatever awful organised activity was taking place
each evening. James joined in because he loved it, and I joined in
simply because I loved being near him, watching him.
"Didn't you know?" we'd ask people when they questioned why a first and
a fifth year were hanging out together. "Didn't we tell you we're
distant cousins?"
And they bought it, too, hook, line and sinker, and suddenly something
which had seemed like an impossible barrier melted away to nothing at
all, and we could be together without fear of being found out. No, of
course we couldn't hold hands in public, nor discuss even the slightest
hint of what we had done in the privacy of my room, but at least
we could back in each other's company, and even get to know each other
a little better. Nothing I learned about James diminished my feelings
for him one bit.
All too soon, though, the idyl of our holiday was over, and dull
reality came crashing back in. Fact was, I lived so far from school
that I lived near absolutely none of my classmates, and a very long way
away from James, when all we had to get around with was slow,
infrequent public transport or lifts from our parents. And I could
hardly ask my mum to drive me to a town ten miles away so that I
could see my twelve year old boyfriend...
School was our only chance to see each other, but though we snatched
what time we could in the toilets at lunchtimes, we had tone
a lot more careful than we had been in France, for the chances of
discovery were that much higher. Even if people believed that
James was a cousin of mine, they were unlikely to see any reason
we should hang around together at school. No, we had to be far
more circumspect than that, and so in then end we had way less time
together than we would have liked.
The one thing I did have to hold onto, though, was a cute photo of us I
carried round in a hidden compartment of my wallet - we'd somehow got
away with going into one of those instant photo booths together, and
the top photo I had of the two of us showed him leaning across and
kissing my neck, my eyes shut in ecstasy.
The other photo, folded behind carefully, was the one I wanked to when
he wasn't around to give me personal attention - he'd had a raging
erection, and had stood on the stool and pulled his trousers and pants
down at the front to give the camera an eyeful. I couldn't get enough
of his rock hard three inch boner, the way it was very white in
contrast to his tanned tummy, and the way the foreskin quivered when
his boner jerked with his heartbeat. Obviously, the photo couldn't show
that, but my memories - fuelled by the picture - sufficed.
---
Summer came upon us slowly. I never thought I'd see the day when I
didn't have to get up and revise (I'd been having GCSE exams, and the
work was killing me), but when finally I was released from my torment,
it was a great relief. My parents had agreed that I didn't have to get
a job if I helped out around the house. I would set to making a dent in
my dad's DIY to-do list, something he wasn't able to do himself, as he
was either travelling for business, or knackered from travelling for
business. Honestly, it was a bit of a cop-out, a bit of an easy ride. I
didn't have to work that hard, and I didn't have to get a summer job as
most of my friends had.
Having said that, it wasn't easy growing up where I did, in a tiny
village of only a couple of hundred people. There was almost no-one my
age around, and none of them went to my school, so I had no friends
around to play with. It was because of this that I got into mountain
biking, and I loved to disappear into the woods that surrounded the
village to spend the days finding new and exciting trails. It also gave
me the opportunity to indulge in a favourite pastime -
wanking outdoors. I loved to climb trees and sit in the branches,
abusing myself until I shot my load out into space, watching it tumble
to the earth beneath me. Then I'd milk the last drop out onto my
fingers and lick them clean, before continuing with my riding as if
nothing had happened.
I made the trip across the fields on my bike, and
into civilisation a few times to see James in the first two weeks
of the holidays. I arrived at his house to find him alone, abandoned by
his mum since she had to work. She obviously considered him old enough
to look after himself, which he probably was, in truth. I
wonder if she would have trusted him had she known that his lover
- four years his senior - had bent him over the dining room
table and ploughed his behind until he begged to be taken in hand
and made to cum. Or whether she imagined for a minute that he was
roughly taken up against the back door, in full view of the
shocked seven year old boy from next door who peered in through the
kitchen window from the lofty vantage of his treehouse. Or indeed, that
he had cried out in ecstasy and splattered his little
droplets of cum on the floor of the hallway as his boyfriend fucked him
doggy style.
---
It was on a warm summer Sunday that my holiday, and my life, changed
for good. I'd woken fairly early, a light breeze blowing through my
open window and my tabby cat purring on my stomach. As soon as she
noticed my eyes open, she hopped down onto the floor and started to
circle impatiently, waiting for me to get out of bed and feed her.
Allowing a minute for my morning erection to subside, I rolled out of
bed and opened the door to my room. Immediately Cat (it was a simple
name, but fitting...) bolted through the door for the kitchen, and I
followed her, rubbing sleep from my eyes. After feeding her, and
myself, I wandered back upstairs to take a cool shower and cleanse
myself of the muggy nighttime's sweat. I could sense that this day
would be in some way special; where the feeling came from, though,
was an utter mystery.
Sunday was the day my parents slept in. My dad was around, for once,
and he and my mum wouldn't be up for a couple of hours yet. Knowing
they liked to read the paper on a Sunday morning, I decided to take a
walk up to the newsagents and pick up a copy
of their favourite broadsheet. While I was there I could
check whether or not my copy of Mountain Biking UK had been delivered,
too.
I grabbed a bit of change off my bedside table and shoved it into the
pocket of my shorts, before locking the door behind me and ambling off
up the dirt track that passed for our road. The village was dead. I
mean, absolutely dead. It seemed that everyone had had the same idea as
my mum and dad, or were at church.
Over the road from the village's only bus stop, I saw an
unfamiliar car - when your village is this small, believe me you notice
everything like that. It was parked outside the Jonhstones' old house.
Mr. and Mrs. Johnstone had been a lovely old couple, but had both
recently passed away, leaving the house empty.
I was scoping the car and not really looking where I was going as I
pushed through the door of the newsagents, and walked straight into a
small boy. More precisely, my small boy!
"Tom!" he exclaimed, as I helped him up from the floor where the impact
had deposited him.
"James!" I replied, putting years of very expensive schooling in
English language to no use whatsoever.
We had a quick hug, but the chance of being seen in public forced us
apart. Quietly as I could, I said,
"I've missed you."
"Me too," he said with a big grin now splitting his face.
It had been too long since I'd last seen James, and now he was stood in
front of me in my village newsagents, grasping a copy of my favourite
magazine. I was completely lost...
"What are you doing here?"
James just giggled, a delightful sound.
"See that house?" he said, pointing across the road to the Johnstones'
place. "My mum and dad want to buy it."
"You're moving here?"
"Yeah, how cool is that?" James said, the smile still splitting his
face nearly in half.
"How come you never said anything in school?"
"Well, they only found the house a few days ago, but they really want
it."
"That's so cool."
It was all I could think of to stay. Once again, so much for the
education...
"I've got to go now," said James, much to my disappointment. He was
halfway out the door when he turned back to me, grinning again.
"I'll make sure mum and dad buy the house!"
He turned to go again, then hesitated. Looking around carefully, he
darted back into the shop and dragged me down to kiss him. It was
stupidly dangerous, but at leat this was before CCTV was ubiquitous.
Even more ludicrous was the way he grabbed my stiffening dick through
my shorts and squeezed it hard.
"Mum's working all day on Tuesday," he grinned at me.
With that, he was off across the road, running into his parents and
little brother as they emerged from the house. My heart skipped a beat
when I saw James' dad turn to the estate agent with a big smile on his
face and shake the man's hand. Summer might not be so boring after all.
Chapter 6
Fortune was surely smiling down on me that summer. How else would it
have occurred that James' mum was a solicitor, and was able
to rush through the paperwork for the house? If not for Lady Luck
smiling down on me, how else would James and his family have moved in
merely two weeks later?
He called to tell me the news only a couple of days beforehand. In the
background I could hear manic sounds of packing, as his
parents desperately tried to get ready for the moving trucks. We
never called each other, for fear of discovery, even though he had
my number, and I his. This was a special occasion, though, and he had
taken the risk, and I couldn't have been happier.
For the next two days I couldn't concentrate on a thing, so much so
that my mother starting wondering what was up with me. I tried to pass
it off as excitement at the imminent start of the World Cup, but
she wasn't entirely convinced; I'd never been that bothered by football
before.
The day James and his family moved in, I was in for a surprise. I'd not
expected to see my little love until we could arrange a meeting away
from prying eyes - we had a lot of catching up to do, and I wanted to
do it somewhere extremely private, and take my time. But when my mum
returned from the supermarket she had a little present for me; there
was no way she could have realised how important it was.
"I've been in the village talking to the new family," she said as I
helped her get all the shopping bags into the house. "Did you know
they've got a boy who goes to your school?"
"No, I had no idea," I lied, hoping that my rather unconvincing
performance wasn't too transparent.
"Well, he's probably a bit young for you to notice. He's just finished
his first year. I told his mum that you might not mind too much showing
what's what around here. Is that OK?"
I had to force myself not to smile. My mum was providing me with the
perfect opportunity to see James without any possibility of my motives
being questioned. Trying to hide my happiness, I pretended to agree
grudgingly, while my heart did somersaults in my chest. Trying not to
appear too eager, I left it an agonising hour before I wandered up to
the house opposite the newsagents, and casually knocked on the door.
It was answered by a middle age woman who followed the housewife mould
that my mum had almost perfected. I introduced myself politely, and
explained that I would show James around the village if his mother
didn't mind. She seemed all too eager to get him out of under her feet,
and thankfully decided that James' little brother should stay in, not
yet being old enough to come out with us 'big boys'. Although he
pouted, Paul (now there's irony for you...) didn't throw a tantrum,
quite possibly because James took him to one side and spoke to him
about it.
I was quite amazed with his ability to calm his little brother - my
elder brother would have taken to opportunity to taunt me if we'd been
in a similar situation at that age, and I was touched that James cared
enough about his brother to make sure he'd be alright. After a few
awkward moments where James and I suddenly realised we'd been staring
at each other and grinning while his parents were around, we finally
left the house and ventured out into our village.
It was, typically enough, a glorious summer day. I don't know where
they've all gone these days, but summers used to be filled with
sunshine and warmth, and only the occasional thunder storm. This was
one of those humid days, and you could feel the storm coming on, but we
decided to have fun while we could. I'd once told James there was a
place in the local woods a friend and I had built where we could get
away and... well... He decided that this was what he wanted to see
first.
It took about twenty minutes to make the hike, and we were both fairly
sweaty by the time we scrambled through the undergrowth to our
sanctuary. Most of the wood was rotting, and a significant part of the
roof had caved in in one corner, but the floor was dry enough to sit on
most of the time, especially given the great weather we were having.
James and I flopped down side by side, leaning against one another and
panting slightly from the exertion in the summer heat. The sweat
running down my back was too much to handle, and I had to give my body
room to breathe. Leaning forward, I stripped my sodden t-shirt from my
torso and threw it onto the floor on the far side of the shack. James
smiled a wicked smile as I did so, and stood to strip not only his
t-shirt, but his shoes, socks and shorts. He stood there in the
tightest pair of briefs I think I have ever seen, which left very
little to the imagination.
"You like them?" he asked, his trademark devilish smile very much in
evidence.
"Oh yeah..."
"I saw you coming up the road to our house earlier, so I thought I'd
put them on for you."
"Wow, thanks! Where did you get pants like that? Surely your mum
doesn't buy them for you?"
"Nah, I nicked them off my brother!"
I couldn't help laughing, which James decided to take as a cue to jump
me. His sharp little fingers were all over my ribs, jabbing and poking,
sending me into an uncontrollable bout of giggles. I would never have
behaved this way around anyone else, but James bought out the side of
me which had never grown up. When he finally relented, I stuck my
tongue out at him, which was immediately sucked into his mouth.
The kiss was pure passion, heightened by love. We sucked each others'
back teeth out for minute after minute, his writhing on my lap bringing
us both to full attention in no time. The front of his tiny briefs was
tented out obscenely by his boyhood, which looked as if it had somehow
grown in just the month we'd been apart.
My erection was trapped down one leg of my shorts, and James smiled as
he reached down inside my shorts to pull it upright. I smiled my
thanks, and he sat back down on my lap, pressing his barely clothed
boner against my pants-and-shorts shrouded equivalent. With his cheeks
flushed, he pulled away from kissing me and said, in a desperate little
voice,
"I really need to get off!"
I nodded - so did I, but his need seemed more urgent than mine, and I
was quite happy to make it happen. James stood and pulled down his
briefs in one movement, and I gazed at his dick with the same wonder I
did every time I saw it. It was a perfect uncut specimen, perhaps just
short of four inches these days, straight as a dye and as hard as rock.
It jerked in time with his heartbeat, and I just had time to notice a
maybe three or four little hairs at its base before James pushed
forward into my mouth.
I let him fuck it in an out a few times before I turned on full suction
and grabbed his tight little backside to help with the rhythm.
I made a tight tunnel with my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and
I could feel James' foreskin rolling back and forth over his head as he
fucked my mouth. He started panting, and when I looked up at him I
could see beads of sweat running down his forehead. His cheeks were
crimson, and the blush quickly spread to his chest. He just had time to
say,
"I'm cu-" before the little rod of juvenile flesh in my mouth
kicked and spat its meagre load onto my tongue, and the breath was
ripped from his lungs by the strength of his climax. His
little emission set my tastebuds tingling and the cum oozing
out of my untouched penis.
The orgasm was too much for James, and his legs gave out. He slumped
down on top of me, and quickly grabbed me in a bear hug, burying his
head in my shoulder. I stroked his back slowly with both hands,
occasionally scratching lightly with my fingernails, which I knew
really relaxed my little boy love. I heard a mumbled message about
missing me, before the strength leaked out of James' arms and he fell
asleep. I must have been exhausted too, because the next thing I
remember was being woken by an enormous peal of thunder.
James, too, had come back to life with a start, and I could see a
little fear in his eyes before he realised where he was sitting, and
relaxed a little with a slight smile. Predictably enough, the first
heavy drops of rain started to fall before the rolling thunder had died
away. I knew we would be safe in our shelter, but there was no way we
could make it back to either of our houses without getting utterly
drenched on the way. So we decided to stay put for the time being, and
wait the storm out.
Now was my chance to really impress my little boyfriend. Reaching into
the pocket of my shorts, I pulled out my brand new mobile phone. It was
about the time when the devices were beginning to be reasonably priced,
and my dad had bought me one as an early birthday present. He claimed
that it would help me out in case I got stuck anywhere, but I knew that
really he was just as much a techno-junky as I was, and wanted to play
with a new toy. James was stunned, and even more so when I said he
should use it to call his parents and let them know he was safe.
We decided that it was best to say that we were at my house, since I
knew my mum would be out for the rest of the day and thus couldn't
confirm whether we'd been there or not. The phone call was quickly
made, James making me laugh when he made the universal hand motions to
suggest that his mum wouldn't shut up. When it was done, we snuggled
together to wait out the storm, listening in silence to the hammer of
raindrops on the roof of the shelter.
Holding tightly on to my young love, I smiled to myself. James noticed,
and asked what was up.
"I was just thinking how much better my life is since you came into
it," I said.
James smiled broadly and gave me a peck on the cheek, before leaning
into me once more, hugging my arm around himself.
It really was going to be a great summer.
The End
