Date: Wed, 30 May 2001 07:39:02 -0500 (PDT)
From: Desmond Hammond
Subject: Beach House 1

Beach House 1 by Desmond Hammond (pseud).
Copyright 2001.  All Rights Reserved.

Disclaimer: This story contains fictional accounts of consensual boy-boy
and man-boy sexual behavior.  None of these events ever happened.  In fact,
they were never really imagined, they have not been written down, and you
are not going to read them.

Nevertheless, if this story did exist it would be intended as an artistic
challenge to conventional social limitations on social, emotional, and
sexual expression.  You should not read the following if you are offended
by such expression.  Likewise, you should not read this if doing so
constitutes a violation of the law in the oppressive police state you call
home.  In fact, nobody should read this.  I'm warning you now.  Stop!
Don't go any further.  I will not be held responsible for your lewd and
irresponsible behavior.  Also, please do not e-mail me, ever.  I couldn't
care less what you think, and I've heard it all before.  That's the point.
I'm sure I'm sick, demented, pure evil, in league with the devil, and a
threat to everything good and wholesome and holy, else I'm God's gift to
erotic literature, or something in between those extremes.  Whatever you
have to say, it's your opinion and I do not care what it is.  You are free
to express the narrow minded ignorant view that you have been commanded to
express by the social-corporate-governmental machine that enslaves you.
That's the point of this work.  The more offended you are, the better the
opportunity for you to take responsibility for your own values and
feelings.  Stop trying to get the world to conform to your views, and live
the life you feel called to live.  Do it now, but please leave me out of
it.  I'm just the messenger.

Peace.-Dessie


Beach House 1

	We had arrived on Long Beach Island on a Friday night for a
two-week stay with friends of mine in a rented beach house right on the
ocean.  My 12-year-old son, Eric came with me, as he had wanted to spend
more time with me since he's gotten older.  He normally lives with his mom
and only stays with me on the weekends.  This was our longest vacation
together in a long time, and we were both really looking forward to it.

The friends we were staying with were folks I'd known from my working life
in Connecticut several years ago, around the time that Eric was born, so
they knew him as a baby even though they had seen him only infrequently
since then.  We moved out of the area, but have made trips every year or
two to visit, so everybody in the group was at least vaguely familiar to
Eric, and everybody adored him.  Everybody included Vicky, her fiance
Stephan, and her girlfriend Candace, Kevin and his boyfriend Mike,
Berkeley, Mark, Debbie and her husband David, Margaret, and her son
11-year-old son Chris, and of course, Eric and me.  Most of the crew is
bisexual or gay, except for Stephan (as far as we know), David, and Debbie.
The boys are naturally curious about and experimenting in all varieties of
sexual experience.  All of us were going to spend some part of the next two
weeks in a cottage that sleeps eight, technically.  There are three
bedrooms; two of which were each equipped with a pair of twin beds.  The
master bedroom had a double, and the couch folded out into a double.  We
had also brought portable camping mattresses (2-inch think foam padding)
and sleeping bags to sprawl out on the plentiful floor space of the living
room and second story deck overlooking the water.  Not everybody was going
to stay the entire time, but Eric and I would.  Others would drift in and
out for shorter stays over the duration for which we had the house.

	After unloading our gear, shopping for supplies (including food and
lots of liquor), and cooking dinner, we settled into a relaxing evening at
the shore drinking cocktails and getting reacquainted.  Chris and Eric had
gone down onto the beach before it got dark, and the adults set up camp on
the deck.  Somebody had lit up a joint when Berkeley asked Margaret and me,
"Is it cool to smoke around the boys?"

	I replied, "It's fine with me; Eric has seen it before and he knows
you guys like to party."

	Margaret responded somewhat cynically that "You might as
well--Chris probably brought his own."

	A conversation about Chris ensued wherein Margaret got to
unshoulder some of her frustrations at trying to single parent a very
rowdy, thrill seeking boy.  My situation with Eric was a little different.
While he was a bit on the wild side himself, he was also very precocious
and had a good head on his shoulders.  We had a very open relationship, and
I had explained to him all the ins and outs of sex, drugs, and rock and
roll.  I discouraged him from experimenting with any of the three, pointing
out that there are such rich traditions available in our culture for
expressing sexuality, exploring the limits of experience, and sharing
aesthetic insights that he would cheat himself by becoming too absorbed in
the baser pleasures.  At the same time, I was practical and acknowledged
that boys will be boys.  Sex feels good, and experimenting with new
sensations along with popular music would, to some extent, be part of
growing up.  I tried to emphasize that masturbation provided sexual
pleasure without the same risks of disease or emotional loss that
partnering carried with it, and I encouraged him to go slowly and find his
own comfortable pace when it came to dating and experimenting.

We both listened to a wide range of contemporary music, which also included
some classical composers and traditional American jazz.  I personally do
not drink or smoke, and I try to emphasize to Eric that he can experiment
with different states of consciousness through meditation and rigorous
athletic discipline, both of which he devoted time to.  But I also knew
that he liked the taste of the beer he had sampled at barbeques with family
and friends, and that other kids his age were experimenting with pot.  I
have stressed that these are his choices to make, always providing a
rationale for why I recommend a conservative approach.  I don't want him to
learn compliance; I want him to become self-directed and be able to make up
his own mind.  Exposure to my friends wasn't going to do him any harm,
given the open and liberal education with which he'd been armed.  Plus,
while the folks I hung out with were very liberal, they were also
compassionate, concerned, and big-hearted people lacking any malicious
motivations other than normal human frailties such as occasional
selfishness, lust, and greed.  I would not be the one to cast the first
stone.

	Margaret seemed to be struggling a bit with Chris.  She had tried
to control him in more traditional ways, and with more traditional results.
Not having a man in her life didn't help, although all in all I'd have to
say she did a remarkable job on her own.  Chris was and is a great kid,
despite the many bumps in the road he has introduced into their lives
together.  Like Eric, Chris is very athletic and leanly muscular.  They are
almost the same height, about 4' 6", even though Eric was a full year older
than Chris.  Eric has short blonde hair and an angelic face; a small
rounded nose makes him look very much the child he is, but his lean
muscular form is clearly beyond the baby fat years.  While he has no overt
signs of puberty and is utterly hairless over his body except for a light
downy fuzz on his lower legs, his muscular stomach shows the distinct shape
of a six-pack, and his chest muscles are clearly defined.  He tans well and
evenly for such a light skinned boy, though he maintains the lightest
dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose onto his cheeks.  His
beautiful round blue eyes could melt stone with their radiant warmth, and
it seems as though you can see directly into a very good, if occasionally
mischievous soul.

	Chris was and is very much Eric's match on physical beauty, but has
dark brown hair, brown eyes, and more plentiful freckles.  He is also a bit
skinner, which by contrast makes Eric look more muscular.  His skin is
lighter, but like Eric, his hair is almost perfectly straight and downy
soft.  He is also very openly affectionate, and spontaneously climbs up in
anyone's lap.  It is as if nobody is a stranger to him.  His physical
presentation is an odd contrast against his behavioral history and the "rap
sheet" his mother could articulate on his behalf.  He'd gotten into a great
deal of trouble, although it was usually as petty as it was recurring.
Margaret had had to deal with catching him smoking cigarettes, stealing
from her liquor cabinet, shoplifting from a local convenience school,
truancy, sneaking out in the middle of the night, breaking windows, and all
the myriad varieties of mischief boys get into.  It wasn't that he got into
anything terribly awful; he just never seemed to tire of getting into it.
Still, his grades in school were okay, and his peers and teachers all liked
him very much despite his being the handful that he was.  We were all happy
to have him with us.

	As darkness fell the boys returned to the house and joined the rest
of us on the deck.  We sat in moonlight, with a small candle on the picnic
table as a supplement for the smokers who needed to find their cigarettes
or their rolling papers and matches, and everyone enjoyed drinks and
hilarity.  I don't recall having laughed so much, regaling in our youthful
(and sometimes recent) escapades and adventures.  The boys delighted in
being part of the adult conversation, and shared a few stories of their own
about outwitting teachers, sneaking smokes in the boy's room, and playing
hooky from school.

"Rob?  Margaret?  Are you guys getting all this?" mocked Debbie.

"What every parent has wanted to know about their kids but was afraid to
ask!"  Candace added.

We took it in stride, with my commenting how Eric knows he is ultimately
responsible for his own behavior, and Margaret just shook her head and said
about her own son, "nothing that boy does surprises me."  We even got to
witness some of their mischief as Chris openly asked Berkeley for a drag
off his cigarette, only to finish it himself, and both boys were dipping
liberally into the adults' drinks with impunity.  I once reminded Eric to
"take it easy."

"You're not as big as these guys, buddy, and you can drink enough to get
really, really sick before you know it.  Please go slow."

"I know," he asserted.  "I'm only having a little."

Both boys were obviously buzzed, but seemed to be handling it well, and the
other adults were attentive to pull drinks out of their hands when they
reached too frequently for them.  Debbie was leaning back against David
well on her way to getting totally wasted, and Margaret and I were beside
one another in what everyone called "the PTA," playfully mocking our
parental and generally more conservative status.

Chris had settled into Berkeley's lap, which I'm sure was much to
Berkeley's delight since he makes no secret of being a boy lover who has
himself had many loving boys.  Mark was sitting beside Berkeley, and Eric
was sitting in a deck chair between Mark and the deck railing along the
ocean side.  It was still warm, and everyone was dressed casually in
shorts.  The ladies had light buttoned shirts on, and David, Kevin, and I
each wore t-shirts, as did Mark.  Neither of the boys wore shirts, however,
nor did Berkeley, whose necklaces, earrings, and long-haired betrayed him
for the hippy that he was.

We continued our sharing and one ups-man-ship.  Some of the stories were
outright bawdy, and nobody kept any secrets from one another.  It is well
understood by all that sexual conquests and perverse humor are all fair
topics of conversation whenever we get together, and this was as true at
the beach house as it is any other time.  Kevin had just told the story of
going down on an exotic dancer in the bathroom of a gay strip club, and
Mike was wise-cracking about how his enthusiasm for giving head has not
diminished in the least with the passage of time.  We laughed hysterically,
and Kevin took in all in good humor.  Then Mark asked, "So what about you,
Eric?  What's the sex life like today for a 12-year-old boy?"

"I don't know," was his only reply through a pronounced, high-pitched
giggle.

"Yeah c'mon, fess up!" Kevin added.  "I've been telling my stories."

"We've all been telling your stories, Kevin" Mike joked, bringing another
round of laughter from the crowd.

Candace couldn't help but chime in, "Yeah, its like truth or dare, Eric.
You getting' any?"

"Some" he said vaguely, laughing again.

Berkeley lit up a joint and passed it over to Mark, who took a long hit
before passing it to Eric, who up until now had not smoked anything in
front of me.  Still holding his breath, Mark asked in a strained voice,
"Here--now tell us what you know about fuckin' and suckin'."

Margaret asked me, "Are you seeing this?" as Eric took a long and obviously
experienced hit off the joint and held it.

I replied, "I've never seen him smoke before, but it's his decision."

Eric looked at me confidently and slowly blew the smoke out over the table
in my general direction.  It looked like Eric was quite skilled in the
workings of marijuana, although he had never confessed anything
specifically to me, and I knew he was withholding information about his
sexual experience.  We talked openly about his masturbation and he had
specifically asked me to rent some pornographic videos for his inspection.
I got some nice ones--nothing too wild, but a variety of oral, anal, and
genital encounters in tastefully done, affectionate straight, gay, and
bisexual formats.  I considered it part of his education, and I explained
that no matter what you can think of, somebody thinks its sexy and somebody
else thinks its gross.  He commented on what looked sexy to him and what
was gross.  This was not a regular feature of our lives, as I discourage
hedonism in general, but we had viewed such things together as I wanted
some control over what he saw and the accuracy of the information he
received.

Margaret, whose sex life had earlier been reviewed by the group,
volunteered that she caught Chris masturbating all the time.

"His little hand seems to be going all the time," she declared.

Chris responded, "Well you never give me any privacy, Mom.  If you did, you
wouldn't even know."

"How am I supposed to give you privacy when you leave the door to your room
and the door to the bathroom wide open while you're doing it?  My God,
Chris, you play with it on the couch while you're watching T.V. right in
front of me.  I don't know where you get off saying anything about
privacy!," she ribbed him playfully.  The mother-son tension seemed
good-natured enough, and Chris just smiled and shook his head.

Berkeley had pulled him closer onto his chest and was stroking the velvety
soft skin of his thighs when the joint got passed back from Eric via Mark.

"So, Eric, we're waiting," reminded Kevin.

"I know he likes to masturbate," I volunteered for him.  "I also know he
gives head."

"Whoa, Eric!" two of the guys said.  "Go for it, dude!" chimed in Berkeley,
who now positioned the burning end of the joint gingerly in his mouth to
blow a shot gun to Chris's waiting puckered lips.

I continued, "I'm not talking about 'I'll show you mine if you'll show me
yours' experimentation, either.  I've seen him on his bed 69ing another
boy, and they were going at it something fierce."

I had caught him this way more than once.  The first time, he'd had a
friend sleeping over, and both boys had gotten very quiet in his room.  I
had not intended to barge in, but honestly had wondered if they were still
in the house since it was still early enough after dinner for them to have
gone out to play in the neighborhood.  I swung the door open to check,
thinking I was just going to turn out the light in their absence, and there
they were on the bed.  Eric was on his back, with his head toward the door,
and his 14-year-old friend was on top, his ass facing me.  Eric had the
boy's penis buried as deep as it would go into his mouth, and each of his
hands cupped one of the perfect round orbs of the older boy plunging his
cock deep within my son's mouth.  Eric had looked at me surprised, but made
no effort to stop the cock sucking.  I said a quick "Oops, sorry," and
pulled the door closed again.  It was 15-minutes before the boys emerged
from the room.

Eric showed no sign of shame, and we didn't discuss it other than my
mentioning that he should lock his door when he wants privacy.

On another occasion, he'd had a friend sleeping over and we were watching a
movie in the den.  The boys were on the couch along the back wall, sitting
beside each other.  I was sitting off to the side, but closer to the set on
one side of the couch.  The boys were almost behind me, but still within my
peripheral vision.  The room had been dark, except for the glow of the
television, and the boys must have either assumed I was too caught up in
the movie or simply didn't care what I saw as they started to play with
each other.  At first I noticed the other boy lean over toward Eric, and I
realized that they were kissing.  Eric's friend had turned away from the TV
to meet Eric's lips, and his hand settled in Eric's lap.  I heard each
zipper go down in turn.  I pretended to be watching the movie, which had a
few titillating sex scenes in it, but frankly I was more interested in my
peripheral vision.  Then I noticed the other boy's head drop to Eric's lap.
Both boys were dressed in jeans and pull over shirts, but it was obvious
from the bobbing motion that the kid was giving my son a world-class
blowjob almost immediately beside me.

Eric continued to face the TV as though he was still watching, when slowly
he dropped onto his side in the direction of the other kid's groin.  They
shifted positions a bit, with Eric's back against the back cushions of the
couch, and the other kid turned so his knees faced the back cushion and his
back was right at the edge of the couch.  Eric's head disappeared between
the kid's legs, and I watched as his left arm reached around the other kid
to cup the boy's ass through his jeans.  With Eric's cute little friend
facing away from the TV, and Eric's view of the room hidden by the boy's
crotch, I turned completely to face them and watch the show.  I even got up
and replenished their drinks so I could walk past them and get a better
look.  I also wanted them to know that I saw them, but they didn't flinch
as I quietly walked by.  I put new drinks down (ginger ale) and took my
seat again.  After about 7 or 8 minutes Eric's head came up and he rested
on his right elbow to look over his friend's hip.  We established eye
contact while he slowly pulled his penis out of the other boy's mouth.  He
grinned mischievously as he said to his friend, "Let's go to my room." I
then turned back to the show.

I related these stories to the group, and follow-up questions bombarded
him.  Did he ever swallow cum?  Did he like it?  Had he ever had anything
in his butt?  Did he like boys or girls better?

Eric replied assertively to each, with "yes," "it's okay," "yeah, a few
times," and "both."  He then added, "I fucked Chris before."

Chris just laughed in response and said, "once."

"Uh-uh!" demanded Eric.  "More like one hundred!"

They bantered back and forth with the whole group enthusiastically cheering
and praising the adventures of the young boys.  Then Eric got up and went
into the house, and headed down the hallway, presumably to the bathroom.
The conversation continued, with occasional lapses of quiet as we stared
out at the moon rising over the water and relished the sweet salty air and
absence of insects.  Mark went inside and disappeared down the hall about a
minute after Eric.  A few minutes after Eric had left, I went in ostensibly
to "refresh my drink."  I put the drink on the counter separating the
kitchen from the living room and proceeded down the hall.  The three
bedrooms were dark, and their doors were open.  When I turned into the last
leg of the short L-shaped hall, I could see light coming from beneath the
bathroom door, which was closed.  I stopped at the door and hesitated.  I
couldn't hear anything.  I put my hand on the knob and gently turned it,
pressing lightly against it as I did.  It was not locked and swung open
into the room.  Directly in front of me was Mark's back and left shoulder
standing in front of the sink.  His shorts were down at his thighs, and his
left hand held the front of his shirt together in the center of his chest,
pulling the hem up and away from his waist.  Eric was on his knees in front
of the man, with about half the man's penis in his mouth.  He paused as I
stepped into the doorway.

Mark turned his head over his left shoulder to look behind him, but without
facing me stated, "We'll be out in a few minutes."

Eric looked up at me momentarily, his mouth straining to encircle the
engorged eight-inch cock, four inches of which filled him.  Then he
refocused his gaze directly on the man's groin and plunged the erection
deeper into his throat.  His left hand was farthest from me and obscured by
Mark's body, but I could see he was holding the base of Mark's shaft and
part of his balls.  Eric's right hand was masturbating his own penis, his
shorts crumpled around his knees.  He resumed the rhythm with which he'd
been sucking before I interrupted.  I was going to leave the room, but I
was transfixed and couldn't bring myself to move.  Mark's free hand rested
on the top and back of Eric's head, which he guided farther and farther
down on his cock.  I could see his butt cheeks tense up and his hips push
forward while his hand pulled Eric's head closer and plunged the rod deeper
and deeper into my son's throat.  Eric was obviously deep throating him,
with first four, then five, then six inches disappearing through his taught
lips.  I watched as Eric's cheeks drew in, then relaxed flat again as he
alternatingly sucked and swallowed the enormous cock.  As Mark pulled out,
Eric's cheeks would draw in as he sucked the shaft and head for all it was
worth.  When Mark thrust into the boy, Eric's cheeks would relax as his
throat opened to swallow the huge rod.  On the deeper thrusts, his eyes
would roll back or he would wince slightly.  The only sound in the room was
the occasional snorts of air in and out of Eric's small, flared nostrils as
he labored to breathe while being so earnestly fucked in his mouth by the
enormous cock.  A subtle, wet, slurping sound accompanied each retraction
of the penis from his throat.

Mark looked back over his shoulder at me, this time establishing eye
contact and grinning.  He shifted his feet so his back was more squarely
toward the wall, giving me more of a side view of the action.  I could tell
now he enjoyed having me watch.  Once Eric had repositioned himself, his
cocksucking intensified.  Mark leaned forward and plunged harder into
Eric's face, while Eric reached between Mark's legs to steady himself
against the cabinet beneath the sink.  Mark assumed total control, fucking
my boy's mouth and pushing the back of his head down deeper along the shaft
of his cock.  They maintained this frantic activity for another minute or
two, when Mark began to convulse as his face contorted with orgasmic
ecstasy.  He pushed deep into Eric's throat and as he tightened his
buttocks and legs, he bent forward and wrapped both arms around the boy's
head.  Then I heard Eric cough loudly and he pulled his head back suddenly
while splashing cum out onto Mark's thigh.  Mark continued his rhythmic
fucking motion with only about the last third of his dick sliding in and
out of Eric's mouth and my son greedily drank up the pulsating squirts of
cum.  Finally, Eric slowly withdrew the entire penis from his throat and
brought his hand to the shaft to milk the remaining semen from it.

Cum ran down his chin and dripped into his lap as he tongued the head of
Mark's cock and licked up the larger puddles of the goo.  He wiped his
cheek with the back of his hand and smeared the cum from his knuckles to
his wrist, which he then in turn wiped along the bare skin of his side.

Mark leaned back against the sink and shook his cock at Eric, who swallowed
about a third of it back into his mouth again to clean the remaining cum
off it.  Mark used his fingers to wipe up the splashes of semen from his
thighs and groin, and then wiped his fingers off on Eric's cheeks and in
his hair.  As Eric withdrew the cock from his mouth for the last time, Mark
took the boy's hand off his scrotum and beckoned him to get up onto his
feet.  As Eric stood, Mark wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and
brought his mouth down onto Eric's.  I watched as Eric brought his arms
around Mark's muscular shoulders and gave himself over to the man to be
kissed and tongued and felt up.  Mark/s hands slowly glided over Eric's
shapely hips, back, sides, waist, hips, and buttocks, and their tongues
plunged deeply into one another's mouths.  Eric's erection pressed firmly
against Mark's thigh and he began to slowly gyrate his hips to rub to soft
ridge of his small boner against the man who was unabashedly taking him
right in front of me.  Then Mark slid down onto his knees before Eric's
four and half inch erection.  Mark looked over at me as he settled onto his
knees.

"I'm not done with him yet.  It'll be a few more minutes."

With that, he dropped his mouth down hungrily onto Eric's waiting erection,
and cupped both of the boy's perfectly round buttocks into the palms of his
hands to draw him forward and knead the soft velvety flesh.  Eric brought
both of his hands up to Mark's head and gently grabbed his hair as he
allowed the man to suck his entire penis into his mouth.  Eric's head
dropped back, with a broad smile on his face as he promptly settled into
the rhythm set by Mark's head bobbing and kneading of the sweet young ass.
I continued to stare while a cavalcade of thought and images rushed through
my head.  I remembered several occasions in the past two years when Mark
had baby-sat Eric for me.

Two of those were overnight stays at my house while I was away on business
and Eric's Mom was away with her new boyfriend.  I wondered what they had
done then.  Eric had obviously had a lot of sexual experience with some
man, and he was totally giving himself to Mark as if they had been doing
this for a while.  I stared as the blowjob continued, and watched Eric's
facial contortions change from merely smiling to a state of ecstatic
frenzy.  I was getting to know my boy as a maturing sexual being, and the
rest of the next two weeks would prove to be a truly eye-opening
experience.  I withdrew from the bathroom and headed back out to the porch,
with all of these thoughts and images racing through my mind.