Date: Fri, 6 Jul 2012 10:55:30 -0400
From: Jacob Schwann <cobschwann@gmail.com>
Subject: Story;'Cob 'n Pen #12'{Jacob Schwann}(bi inc BB cons)[12!24]

Story;'Cob 'n Pen #12'{Jacob Schwann}(bi inc BB cons)[12!24]

This is a work of soft and slow erotic fiction (bisexual, incest), adapted
without attribution from personal, family, public, and other sources. It is
a pastiche of original material as well as revised versions of a number of
story fragments borrowed liberally from elsewhere. All of the characters in
this story are portrayed by adults 18 years of age or older. If reading
erotic fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are under age for
reading this type of material, or this is not what you wish to read, please
leave this page now.

Comments welcome: Contact cobschwann@gmail.com with remarks or suggestions.
I have truly enjoyed the comments and warm support of everyone. Especially
the photos and cartoons.  You certainly have some interesting ones to keep
a brother (and sister) hot!  Keep up the emails.  It lets me know I should
continue with this.

A reminder, Nifty needs our donations to post the stories from all the authors.

********************

Cob `n Pen #12

Summary: A brother and sister, Jacob (Cobby) and Penelope (Penny), recall
their first times in the 1930's, by way of a patchwork of letters to a kind
doctor who helped them out of a jam. Vignettes in this episode: Old Drill
Hall Gymnasium; Mickey; Other Moves; Shoulder to Shoulder; Eternal
Brotherhood.

>>>JACOB (Cobby)

*
*
*
**********
Dear Uncle Doctor:
From JACOB
Mount Forest, October 1933

OLD DRILL HALL GYMNASIUM

My sister and I had been best friends all through our childhood. Now with
dad put away in the asylum again, our moving to a new place and a new
school, and with her going to the movies with an `older man' – a
`porridge eater from the other side of the tracks'. Well I became very
protective of her. I know it bothered her, but I had to know who she liked,
where she went, and what she did.  I knew she wanted a boyfriend, but she
whined that the louts at the elementary and high schools were
`single-minded' about getting `it' from a girl. I also worried that our
cousin Steven might get `into' her, he having said she was so `ready' and
all [Episode #7]. What did Penny want? She was almost 11 and small, but
mature for her age. She said she wanted a deep relationship, something with
someone close to her and her family, someone who would love her afterward
and be with her always. Naturally I thought of `yours truly', as her
protector of course.  So I watched Penny closely. I even ended up at the
Old Drill Hall gymnasium in Mount Forest so I could keep an eye on her.

School was hell for me, being one of those left handed kids they forced to
write with the right. And I was no good at team sports, doing handstands
instead of catching the ball out in left field. Yet at 13 good things were
happening to my body, and I felt better about myself. Even the new school
in Mount Forest got better when Mr. Graham, our weird gym teacher, noticed
me in the first weeks of school.

"Jacob," he said, "you have the quick agility of a barefoot street urchin."

Mr. Graham figured I could climb rope with the high school gymnastics guys
at the Old Drill Hall gym, where Penny did swim practice. After all I was
sent shimmying up the rope during haying season to clear the big hay-hook
when it jammed at the top of Cousin Max's barn. I'd never compete with the
team, but I was light and good. I used just my hands and arms without using
my feet to pull up the rope, 25 feet hand over hand way up to the ceiling,
time and time again.

"I call it scrambling up the rope," said creepy Mr. Graham. "You are, in
fact, a pretty climber to watch, Jacob, easy in action and quite remarkably
quick as you wriggle up that rope with such slippery movements. You might
be mistaken for a serpent, seeming to have neither bone nor sinew in your
whole body."

So I ended up at the Old Drill Hall gymnasium and locker room. I excelled
in gym shower room, finding myself strangely excited by the wide variety of
naked young men, especially the developing cocks and balls, and the cute
bare boy butts. Not only did I find the nude guys appealing, but I took
them home with me at night. Better than a Monkey-Ward catalog, my mind's
eye saw the best features of my shower mates. Late at night and early in
the morning in my own bed or in the barn we had our imaginary way with one
another, over and over in ever new ways.


***

MICKEY

One of the more muscular kids was the 15 year old asshole who took my baby
sister Penny to the movies over the summer [Episode #9]. Just what had gone
on upstairs by the projection booth? What had it been like? While Penny
never said what happened, I hated her date on sight. Yet I had to admit he
was good to look at, and funny and friendly too. Mickey Sylvester was
almost 16, around 5 foot 6, and wrestled in the 125 to 130 pound class on
the school team. So he had me by some pounds. Mickey was a well formed boy
with the face of a baby and the body of a man. About the most trim body in
the school, even though there were other guys tougher and a lot rougher. He
was not the biggest or brawniest kid, I don't mean that, but Mickey worked
on his sleek body. He loved to show off doing one-hand push ups and he was
forever flexing a dumbbell in his fist. He wore a loose dress shirt and
baggy trousers, but his chest and thighs filled them out. At the gym he
pulled on the tightest training shirt and skimpy shorts. You could see
every muscle on him and he had a short but really thick dick. Even as a
young teen he looked like a more slender model of one of those strong men
from the back of a magazine. Everyone turned to look. When I came in for
practice I could not take my eyes off him, but I would not let anyone see
me do it.

I ended up next to Mickey's locker, and just for the heck of it I yanked on
the metal door and it swung open. Inside was his raunchy gym outfit, like
he never washed stuff. The aroma was strong, pungent, and overpowered all
the other smells of the locker room. It made my head spin.  I found his
jock strap. It was soiled. I sniffed, breathing Mickey's smells in. I
thought of him filling them and my cock began to stiffen until I threw the
hardest bone ever in my gym shorts. I had to kneel down in front of the
locker to hide it. I had never been so charged up in my life. My eyes
swirled and lit on the inside of his locker door. There were pictures taped
up high at eye level.

I stood cautiously, doing my best to hold my erection against my thigh so
as to hide the evidence. I stared at the pictures. They were smutty. They
were pages torn out of some dirty magazine with photos. One was of a very
young girl sucking this older guy's crooked cock. Clearly it was his cock
in the full page close up. The other one fired me up the most. It was a
side shot, showing the full bodies of both a young boy and the same little
girl. His cock was half way into her cunt. Her head was thrown back and he
was holding her by the top of her shoulders. I'd never seen a photograph of
such a young boy fucking a girl before. It was filthy, but hot, hotter than
any adult dirty pictures I had ever seen, hotter for sure than the ones in
the Japanese `rocket art' book hidden in dad's closet [Episode #4].

I stared spellbound. Then I looked at the single snapshot, from a Kodak. A
shock went through me. I knew the rocks and the stream; it was the swimming
hole down from Old Aunt Elsa's. I got my nose right up to the picture just
as Mickey might. The kid on top of the rock must have been skinny-dipping
as he horsed around ready to leap in the water. He was kind of stretched
out but strong, with a laughing face. His arm was up and you could see hair
in his armpit. His crotch had hair, and there were his balls and a dangling
dick. And I knew that naked kid. It was me! It must have been taken at the
start of that summer. What was Mickey Sylvester doing with this photograph
of me in his locker?  Why?  How?  Who?

I got dressed and went into the latrine and stood side by side with the
younger kids draining their bladders. When Mickey strode in, we all
shamelessly gawked at his short but massive wiener as he aimed his stream
into the same gutter we were wetting down. He watched us watch him, a smug
little smirk on his fine face while we were finishing our business. He made
quite a show of skinning the drops from his cock, the size of a half-pint
milk bottle, holding it in his palm like a prize piece of fruit.

Some senior boys greeted Mickey with, "Hi, Shorty!"

And he just laughed, shaking his squat fat willy and returned their
wave. Being a smart aleck, I had to make some comment about `Shorty' to
him. Maybe I should not have spoken. Somehow his fist came and landed POW
hard in my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me. My shoulders and back
collided with the tile wall and I slid to the floor, down on my ass with my
legs stuck straight out. There was not much pain, but I puddled there
helpless, gazing up at him, unable to breathe or button my pants. My mouth
worked to give some flip response but no air came out. I shriveled there
all uncovered while he stood over me, checking me out and nodding. He
watched me with those velvety eyes and that engaging smile which I so
admired in other boys and wished for myself. By the time I staggered to my
feet and got my `blessed jewels' back in my pants, he was gone.

The next Tuesday when practice ended and most every one had left, Mickey
stood slouched just inside the gym door. He turned and stretched, his back
springing into life. With every move his arm muscles bunched and flexed
under his skin. With every stride his thigh muscles clenched and quivered
in his cotton shorts. As he breathed the sweaty string shirt strained
against his chest, and his shoulders and arms stretched beyond his narrow
waist below. His 15 year old slim body surged with young muscles from head
to toe, making my puny frame look pathetic in comparison. I felt the blood
pound in my head and I started to harden. Quickly I pulled my gaze away,
fearful that he would register the fact I was staring at him. I turned to
my rope and hauled myself up hand over hand to the ceiling a bunch of
times. When I finally slid to the floor I was startled by a hard hand on my
shoulder.

"Hey," said a warm voice, and I tightened my belly muscles for the
inevitable gut-punch. "I wondered if it's okay to practice wrestling starts
with ya."

Snapping my eyes around, I found myself staring straight into Mickey
Sylvester's smug blue eyes. We had never spoken for real, just the two of
us alone. My knees felt weak, butterflies fluttered in my gut.

I forced words from my suddenly tight throat, "Uh-h-h.... Yeah. Sure."

Mickey came on rough and ugly, but when something struck him funny his mug
opened in the broadest, most pleasing grin with his snaggle-toothed smile
and the face of an angelic child.

"Thanks. Name's Mickey by the way, pleased t'meet ya officially. I met your
lil' sis over the summer, you know that. You're sure a lucky guy to be her
brother, and you know that too.  I've seen you at the train station and the
swimming hole and here at the Drill Hall. No hard feelings about that belly
tap last week, right? I been wantin' to work out with ya."

He shook my hand warmly, making my skin tingle at his touch. Mickey palled
around with those good-looking older boys who were the best at sports, the
ones who set the standards on how things were in school and all. Why then
was he giving me the time of day? Was he setting me up for another sucker
punch? He was so great looking and perfect in every way that it was almost
impossible not to stand there and pull my shirt up and ask him to go ahead,
hit me right in my belly. Anyway, being with him made me feel that woozy. I
forgot to hate him.

"Uh-h-h... Yeah..., I'm Cobby. No Cob.  Mmm..., call me Jacob. Jake! Well,
I'll help you out."

He threw his arm over my sweaty shoulder and walked me to the wrestling
mat, talking non-stop about how this was just for fun; he simply wanted to
try out some moves with a lighter weight class contender. By the time I
stuttered out that I was not good enough to compete on the gymnastics team
but I loved to work out, he had the biggest grin on his face and his hand
was around my waist as though we'd been buddies for life.

"Well Jake, we're wrestlers this evening, so no hitting below the belt," he
warned, being no stranger to street fights. "But grappling, groping, and
grabbing is okay!"

Had he really just goosed me?

Then he said real low and secret, "Instead of olive oil and rosin like the
ancient Greek gymnasts used, we'll anoint our bodies with sweat!"

We were both stinky and dripping already. Mickey flipped his hand
indicating that we were to pull our gym shirts off and just be in trunks. I
felt so stunted next to him, but I tried to strut and swagger, thrusting my
chest out and shoving my crotch forward in my shorts like the older sports
did. He just grinned at me and nodded.

The first things he wanted to do were some simple lifts, to practice
hoisting an opponent who might be pinning him. He crouched down on his
hands and knees on the mat and then went flat on his face. I was supposed
to cover him with my body. I hesitated but sort of spread eagled myself out
over him, feeling my puny chest on his muscular bare back and my slight
groin on his trim butt and my arms clenched to his fine chest. Of course he
stood right up and paraded around with me no sweat. He did this five or six
times.

Then he had us assume the referee's position on the wrestling mat. I was on
the bottom so he could practice his initial moves. Would there be payback
for my bathroom remark to him? He crouched kneeling behind me, like he was
going to mount and service me or something. When he slapped my gut to
signal he was ready to wrestle, I fast grabbed his hand by the wrist,
stood, and peeled his hand away to slide out and escape before he could
snatch my ankle. Then we were both standing and facing each other,
circling. I should have run away, but I was grinning and eager, elated to
be on the mat with this striking athlete. I had seen his non-stop wrestling
so I knew he was taking it easy, just like when I tussled with my little
sister Penny. He had his big conceited smirk and seemed to be waiting for
me to show my stuff. That was fine with me.

We closed and locked up, each grabbing the back of the other's neck as we
searched for an opening. I tried to shoot under his hands and clasp both of
his legs to my chest for a lift and take down but he blocked me. He grabbed
my upper arm, dropped to one knee and shoved his other arm through my
crotch, his muscles tightening against my balls in my shorts. I struggled
to escape his hold, feeling him flex his biceps even more. Here I was
struggling against his skin and gristle and body, my arms and legs all
tangled with his and my bare chest and belly smashed against him.  With
each squeeze my cock grew harder. He had to feel it lengthen. With a mighty
heave I tossed him off. He must have let me do it.  Again we were
standing. I sensed he was playing with me, enjoying having me grab him like
a puppy with a kitten, and I must admit I was having a great time. There
was a patch of wet at the front of my shorts. I had to watch myself, as the
friction of body contact made me get excited and tinkle.

Mickey just laughed and called out, "Hey Leaky!"

It was obvious, both our shorts were strained from our cocks, his fat one
and my skinny one. We locked up again, and this time I rocked him back and
forth and surprised him with a Lindy-hop dance move I'd practiced with
Penny. He lost his balance. He allowed me to slump him on his back in a
clumsy lateral drop. I fell across his chest and I felt him giggling
beneath me. We two rolled around the mat, feeling each other's boy bodies
and man scents, sweating profusely from all the muscle flexing. He let
himself go and I pinned his shoulders to the mat.

I panted, "One!  Two!  Three!"

"Uncle!" Mickey cried with a hoot.

We exchanged a mocking, merry glance, boyish and full of fun. The joke of
my pinning him was so comical that we burst out laughing.

"This is great!" cried the handsome wrestler, just letting me be on top of
him for a few moments. "Ya gotta smell this!" Mickey held up his arm and
smelled his own armpit. "It's like all the locker room in my pit."

I was stunned but moved on hands and knees to smell the spice in the raised
armpit.

"Come on," he urged. He lifted my arm and stuck his own nose in there.

I was buried in the older boy's armpit and sniffing. My cock twitched as
Mickey rested a hand on my bare back and stroked. Mickey ran his tongue
hungrily in my own underarm; the sounds of his slurping filled my ears, so
obscene and just plain nasty.

"Go ahead kid, lick it out too."

While I had never thought of doing that, I followed him and was soon
licking the curly hair and salty sweat in Mickey's armpit.

"Do this other one too."

I licked and licked, and inhaled, breathing him into my lungs.

Mickey looked at me with those confident blue eyes and that striking
grin. "I've got some other moves I want to try on you!"


***

OTHER MOVES

He rolled from under me and hopped up to head for the showers. I watched
his short form walk away with his broad muscled back, tapering waist, round
butt, and strong legs streaked with sweat. Mid stride he cocked his head
toward me. Bewildered, I scrambled up and followed like a well trained
puppy. I crossed in front of the mirrors in the locker room and Mickey saw
me look into them. I blinked, being dazed from all we had done.

"Next to you," I said to his reflection beside me in the mirror, "I look
like a piece of spaghetti."

While eventually I was to grow a bunch of inches taller than Mickey, at
this time he was about my height. Yet we sure were different. I was in good
shape for someone my age, but I looked like the stretched-out red-headed
adolescent bean-pole that I was. Mickey was perfectly proportioned for his
height, and there was not an ounce of fat on his lean body, and every
muscle was plainly seen. He could have demonstrated for an anatomy course,
and later on he earned money by modeling nude in art classes. He grabbed me
from behind until I ached, with his hand over my crotch. Then all of a
sudden he let me go.

"So you're having a `hard time'! Is that because of seeing yourself in the
mirror, or me?" He laughed. "You're sure cute as a button," Micky said,
gazing at me while I felt dizzy. He pushed his hand through my unruly
crimson hair and my face turned just as scarlet. "God, I wish you were not
so cute. What are you, 14 nearly 15?"

I was pretty developed for just 13.

"You're nicely made, for all the fact you're tall and slight, what with
your red, thick, curly mane and terrific features. Lookin' good, Jake!"

I just figured he was talking about my biceps as I flexed my arms in the
mirror.

"Well," I confessed, "they're kinda nice..."

I chinned myself three times on the high pull up bar on the way into the
latrine. I was crazed enough to want to show off those biceps.  When we
stood side by side to take a piss he saw my long skinny bone jutting from
my groin.  His own shorter thick one quickly firmed up as well. Our eyes
met, and we giggled like school boys about to indulge in something nasty.

"You know, don't ya," Mickey declared among hoots of laughter, "that it's
the wider girth that's most important to a real woman! Even more important
than simple length!" He shook his finger at me, "Long as you've got a bit
of length to push that girth you can scrape hell out of the sides and
she'll be back for more!"

To make peace, since mine had no girth to speak of, I recited the old
doggerel, "Long and thin will go way in, but short and thick will do the
trick."

I chinned myself on the bar again, pulling up high and hard to make what
muscles I had pop out. Suddenly there was Mickey. As I pulled up once more,
he walked right up face to face and put his big biceps arms around me as I
hung in the air. By reflex my legs circled around his back and butt and
held him. And he stretched until his lips grazed mine. And believe it or
not we kissed.  Just like that he kissed me hard at first, but then he
became gentle, and soon I was moving my lips with his. Flashes of orange
and purple color sped in front of my closed lids as I thrilled. I hung on
for dear life. Finally he broke the kiss and I dropped wobbly as a worm.

"Sorry about that, I couldn't help myself," his voice trailed off. "Hey,
are we faggots?" Mickey asked with his usual open and genuine curiosity.

"Nah," I quoted the old Stone Crew saw, " `Just teen boys feeling our oats
and being horny'."

He accepted that with a laugh. It was already after closing time and the
Old Drill Hall was completely empty. Mickey's work assignment was to clean
the boys' shower.  I simply nodded my willingness as he went to get the key
to the janitor's closet.

He moved away and laughed, saying "I gotta get the work done. Go ahead
Jake, get naked and shower."

Being that close to this incredible older boy I was unable to speak. I got
my sweaty stuff off and walked under the shower spray. The steaming hot
water felt wonderful. I stood unsteady, and soaped my chest and belly and
the sparse hair around my long skinny shaft. My fingers caressed the skin
between my thighs, so slippery. I stroked the tight cleft of my ass and
pushed a forefinger up my hole. That was breathtaking. I reluctantly pulled
out; it was way too risky to be so bold. What if Mickey saw me? I stepped
out and grabbed a couple of towels.

Mickey unlocked the janitor's closet and filled a mop bucket with hot soapy
water which he threw over the tile floor toward the drain. He stood under
the one lit ceiling light, as if on stage. Mickey slowly stripped off his
shorts and the towel draped over his shoulders, teasing me while I sat in a
stupor naked on a bench by the lockers. He looked at me and smiled. I
watched each square inch of muscular flesh come into view. He moved his
hands over his body like a Greek wrestler scraping his skin, feeling his
muscles, posturing for me. All the while he looked at me with those deep
blue eyes, and ran his tongue over his lips amidst his white chipped-tooth
grin.  He had curly blond pubic hair, and the most amazing cock, not so
long but oh so fat! Of course I was absent mindedly rubbing my own at this
point.

I studied Mickey, his hard muscles and easy movements like a dancer, agile
and smooth for so well-built a fellow. As he reached for a mop he grinned
into the dim locker room in my direction. Mickey worked in the nude mopping
the floor with strong wide strokes, keeping his back to me, showing off
that beautiful smooth white ass. He rinsed the soap down the drain. He
turned the cold water on himself. His small nipples stood straight up when
the water hit them and his balls tightened to his crotch, his amazing dick
thickening even more. He stood there shivering and gasping, his muscles
bunching up with the cold. Then he turned his back to me and bent over,
directing the stream of water into his ass crack, the water running off his
balls. He abruptly stood up straight, turned the water off and grabbed the
mop again. As he moved out of the shower room to head back to the janitor's
closet he winked at me. I felt delirious. I was pulling on my leaking cock,
needing to shoot off or faint.


***

SHOULDER TO SHOULDER

Suddenly Mickey was sitting skin to skin, shoulder to shoulder with me on
the bench, both of us starkers. He spoke softly, a mile a minute, saying I
don't know what. He rambled about exchanging `golden sashes', symbols of
shared manhood, sworn brotherhoods eternally and forever. Mickey sang; his
body strained; his strong arm was around my shoulders and sliding across my
back pulling me against him. My impulse to pull away evaporated as I felt
his body along mine.

All the time his warm welcoming voice spoke to me; a positive pleasure,
like the speech of a brother. He was a great comfort. His hand skimmed my
flank and along my belly. Open mouthed, I watched him begin to rub his
thick dick with one hand. But then Mickey's other hand slipped down my
crotch. He fondled my balls. I looked up amazed. He returned my look with a
devilish smile. His hand found my dick, grabbing it around the shaft. I
instantly hardened under his touch.

"...M-M-Mickey...," I started.

He stroked the length of my cock, moving his hand up and down. I didn't
know what to do. I was too worked up; his hand felt too good. I was at his
mercy. I closed my eyes trying to control my breathing. I leaned into his
incredible body, giving in to the strength of his warm, working
musculature. I lost myself in his strong arms and hands.  What had my kid
sister Penny done with this splendid youth at the movies, as his fingers
might have pleasured her this way? All my botheration seemed to wash away
as the pace of Mickey's hand increased. That need-to-pee and thick swimming
feeling overtook me. Sticky, hot boy juice flooded as I came with a soft
breath. I arched my back towards him and gave my all to him.

"Oh.... Mickey...," I breathed, the thumping of my brain subsiding into
sweet release.

I was unhinged. With a fated motion my head dipped against his strong chest
and then down his hard belly. As if inebriated, I slid my palms upward on
the insides of his smooth thighs brushing his big eggs. He shuddered and I
cupped his scrotum, hefting it, feeling the two balls settle. I stared at
Mickey's fat erection and leaned close, watching the thick rod pulse with
his heartbeat. It was rock hard and veined and gnarly like a tree
stump. The head was a broad helmet, as wide as the shaft and mighty. I
peered at the slit and noted the shine of clear seepage. Was this what
Penny saw that day at the movies? On their own my fingers reached, taking
him by surprise but he was not about to stop it. I rubbed the soft spongy
head of his cock with my thumb, causing him to shiver strongly. I stroked
the silky skin up and down and glanced at him.

Mickey leaned back with a grin, "Come on, you'd best get used to doing
this."

He moaned as I moved my head forward.  My senses were overwhelmed by the
scent of pee and soap and charged man sweat. He caressed my wild red hair,
his hands still moist with my own sperms. He rubbed my neck and shoulders,
stroking down my back and in the crack of my butt as I hunched over him,
making appreciative little murmurs, saying my name.

"Jake, Jake, Jake...."

I don't know why, but I dropped down to his heavy scrotum. Incredibly, my
tongue stretched to work upon each large ball in turn, tasting the waxy
glaze. Mickey groaned again, spreading his strong legs to allow me better
access. With both hands at the back of my head he drew me in to him. He
gasped as I opened my mouth and took in one ball at a time, rolling the
roundness with my tongue, sucking gently before his balls drew up tight in
their pouch. Mickey lolled his head on his shoulders, his breath ragged and
rapid.

Tipsy, I crossed some inner line beyond any sense of decency or fear. I
could not stop. It took a while to work up the courage but I wanted to do
it. So I moved up and held the wide head of his erection to my lips. I put
my nose against the top to sniff the musk, pursed my lips and just kissed
the velvety covering, thinking stupidly of Penny sucking her thumb. I
pulled up, a strand of precum stuck on the end of my nose, and we both
laughed. It was so warm and soft, and I could taste a little of his liquid,
sweet like snot as Steven's had been [Episode #5]. I slid the knob over my
lips, slowly back and forth while holding his hard warm shaft in my hand. I
started to lick it. I extended my tongue and lapped the broad head of his
cock a few times. I licked and swallowed. My mouth flooded, reacting to the
now spicy taste of the slick fluid.

"Put it in your mouth, close your lips around it and then slide your lips
up and down," Mickey instructed.

I did want to get Mickey's penis in my mouth. I bent over and captured the
width of the head between my lips like a great plum and sucked it,
extracting the nutty flavor of his oozing. I curled my tongue around it,
and licked the leaking head of it. Mickey stroked me, embracing me, his
hands all over my body, my neck my nipples my belly my butt; his fingers
everywhere seeking to hold me, to know me.

He leaned back and spread his legs wider, moaning, "Jeeze Jake. This is the
best."

I held my mouth like blowing bubbles, as he told me, and he moved his thick
dick back and forth between my lips and on my tongue. I felt my teeth
catching on it as he pushed it in and out,

"Ooh yes.... Use your tongue, not teeth so much. That's right, go on."

"...oggh-guhh...!"

Gulp. Slurp. Slurp. That was my response. I warmed to the task. My pleasure
was in the honor of servicing this perfect boy, and knowing that perversly
I was his master and he my slave since he was desperate to have it from
me. I studied up close the whorls of his blond pubic hair thinning to a
line up the middle of his ridged belly, his striking chest and his face all
contorted in need and delight. Being with him made me happy. Had Penny been
here before me?

"Whew, Jake ... Ah, please, please, oh...!"

Then I opened my mouth wide and slid it in. I didn't expect how big it
felt, warm and hard and soft all at the same time. I slipped as much in as
I could, closing my mouth around it, feeling the end of it on my
tongue. The bulbous head bumped the back of my throat, and I fought off the
reflex to puke by forcing myself to swallow several times, like he told
me. I pushed my nose into his soft pubes. I gripped the base with my hand,
milked it and moved it a little, letting the head slide around inside. I
added suction. My mouth retreated up his penis, until I held only the
spongy head between my tightly clamped lips. I flicked my tongue tip,
stabbing it repeatedly into the leaking little slit. Mickey shuddered.

"Oh, Jake! Aw! Yeah!"

His cock pulsed another blob of slimy secretion into my mouth. I coughed
and choked and spit and straight away started in again. I settled into a
rhythm of gliding my mouth over the top while Mickey rocked his hips in a
matching pace, his hands clamped my head firmly, and his fingers tugged at
the coils of my crazy red hair.

"Oh jeez!" Mickey exclaimed, jerking his hips.  "Damn Jake.  Please,
please!"

Mickey left me no choice as his hands held my head down, gripping me
tight. He actually lasted a few minutes of my sucking on him until he lost
it totally. He let out a long, loud breath and thrust up into the air. I
felt him flex, giving a full body lurch. He lifted and rammed his hips
forward to drive his rigid cock deeply into my throat. As it jumped inside,
I felt his shaft swell and jerk strongly. Then it got amazingly hard.

He started to cum, pumping and spewing, erupting into my mouth, flooding me
in strong, rapid bursts.  I was prepared for the surge but not the volume
yet I quickly swallowed as much of his salty emission as I could. I gulped
quickly, taking in spurt after spurt of his thick, creamy sperm. I guzzled
and gagged, tears streaming from my eyes, as most of his overflowing fluid
drooled from the corners of my mouth where it drizzled down my chin. The
milky cum overflowed down Mickey's thick cock and collected in the golden
hairs around the base and dripped onto his thighs. Finally he stopped
flooding me. He shuddered strongly, sagging weakly. He seemed to melt, as
all of the tightly wound tension suddenly drained from his amazing body.

When it stopped spitting I sucked him deeply. I loved the way it felt to
have his body orgasm in my mouth. Strangely enough I didn't mind the taste
of it. I think I was lucky with him that he tasted good, actually. I even
licked his cock clean. Was this what Penny tasted?

He sagged back panting, gasping for air, blessing me with his eyes as they
shut. We slumped entangled, arms and legs skewed at odd angles, our heart
beats nearly audible in the darkened locker room. He let go of my head. I
lifted from him, his wet dick sliding out of my mouth. I hacked and retched
and swallowed more cum as I did so.  When my breathing settled I ran my
tongue over the roof of my mouth, savoring the slightly acrid aftertaste of
his incredible discharge.  I was drunk on Mickey.


***

ETERNAL BROTHERHOOD

I stared at his smooth, trim body glistening with sweat, his muscles popped
out beneath his silky skin as though he'd run a 100 yard dash. He slowly
opened his eyes and met my gaze, a smile spread over his striking face as
he shook his head slowly. We looked each other up and down and grinned then
giggled like we'd gotten away with something incredibly naughty. He brushed
away my tears and wiped some of his splooge off my chin then he slid his
slimy finger inside my mouth, letting me suck it dry. He grinned as he
looked down his sculptured torso at me. I gave a little shrug, smiling
weakly. A crooked smile of gratitude grew on his face. I'd liked sucking
Mickey, I decided, and I loved that it fed his need and made him feel so
good. He asked me how it was.

I got red in the face and giggled, "Strong.  Sweet.  A lot!  Great Mother,
Mickey! I nearly choked to death on your load!"

He sprawled on the bench barely moving. I knew how he felt since Steven had
done the same for me when we were last together at the movies [Episode
#7]. I sat next to him with his arm around me. Intoxicated by it all, I
slowly masturbated right out in the open in front of him, knowing he liked
what he saw. He watched until I came, the cum plopping on us in satisfying
splops. I shared a spermy finger with him and he sucked it happily. We both
just smiled.

We rinsed off in the showers. I felt lightheaded, like walking without
gravity. Mickey was the first of the closest friends that I grew to trust
and love, with a warmth and unlimited generosity. Since I did not have an
athletic supporter, Mickey gave me one of his spares. Thereafter we each
wore our jockstraps during work outs for days on end, so the cotton pouches
really soaked up our teen boy crotch sweat. I guessed it was the same for
him, but I certainly jerked off in mine, stiffening the material with thick
boy pudding. One afternoon a week, when he finished his sweaty wrestling
practice and I began my rope work and tumbling, we'd exchange them with one
another for the fun of it. So each jock strap got soaked with both of our
juices.

Mickey knew the rituals of tribal clans. By exchanging clothing, our
`golden sashes', he intoned, each man shared his body smell and secretions
and the essence of his soul with the other. Just before we dressed, we two
together swore the oath of brotherhood, standing in our sweaty jock straps
before the honesty of the gym mirrors.

"We swear this oath! To be devoted to one another, to make our two lives
into one, and to never forsake each other. Blood brothers sleep under a
single blanket," Mickey droned, "just as true brothers share
together. Eternally and forever, one shall share the seed of the other's
seed, offer seed to the other's seed, receive seed from the other's seed,
and they shall become a blessing one for the other."

More alert now, I started to come to, to wake up from all we had done. Why
did I suspect that Mickey –thoughtlessly generous, restless yet lazy and
indiscreet, impetuous, and irresistible – might have in mind sharing his
seed with my little sister, Penelope?

I know I did!

Yours truly, JACOB
**********
*
*
*
<to be continued>