Date: Sat, 30 Oct 2010 11:08:51 GMT
From: "user459@netzero.net" <user459@netzero.net>
Subject: Blind Brian

"You what?!" I screamed, staring defiantly at my mother.  "And you didn't
even ask me!"

"Now calm down, Mike," she said.  "You weren't there to see the look on her
face and to listen to what she has gone through."

"But, Mom," I whined, "This is my summer vacation!  What if I have other
plans and things to do and places to go and stuff?  Now it's all ruined."

"No it's not.  I just told Mrs. White you would help her with Brian few
times a week, that's all.  Besides, what are all these plans you have?" she
asked.

"Well, I, uh, might, uh," I stammered, trying to think of anything I had
actually planned to do besides veg out and fart around.

"Just as I thought," she said.  "I would think you might have a little
compassion and charity.  It's not easy for a single mother to try to work
to support her family and have the extra burden of having to raise a blind
child, too.  Besides, Brian is a great kid.  He can't help it if he's
blind, and he sure could use a male friend."

"OK, Mom," I said.  "It's just a little creepy, that's all.  And you never
even asked me before you volunteered me!"

"It will be good for you and will get you out of the house once in a
while," she commented.  "I can't have you sitting around here all the time,
stinking up the joint."

"What?  I don't smell!" I answered back as I raised my arm to check to see
if my pits were bad.  Actually, I hadn't showered yet today, even though it
was close to 11:00 in the morning.  I'd have to concede that point to her.
It wasn't easy being almost fifteen: hormones kicking in; stinky pits and
feet; hairs sprouting where you'd least expect them; pimples popping out;
sudden and unexpected hard ons.

"Well, if you don't want to do this for Mrs. White, then you'll have to get
your butt out and find a real job for the summer," she proposed.  "You do
realize that she is willing to pay you for your time, don't you?"  Now that
put a different spin on the subject.  I could use some money and it
wouldn't be like digging ditches or anything.  I would just have to hang
around with a blind kid.

I had met Brian a couple of times before.  He was twelve or thirteen, I
recalled, and was a good looking boy.  His mother was a knockout.  She was
about thirty five and very well put together, I could never figure out why
Brian's father wasn't around.  But then, I had never really cared enough to
ask.

"All right, Mom," I acquiesced, "What do I have to do?"

"Just show up at their house tomorrow at 8:00 am and Mrs. White will fill
you in."  She didn't leave me much room for negotiating.  I had really only
put up a token resistance.  I had been wondering what I was going to do
with my summer.  Let's face it; I'm not the most popular guy in school and
don't have a lot of friends.  I have never really clicked with any of the
guys and the girls kind of scare me.  I usually just stay to myself, get my
work done and get home as soon as I can.  I don't know why, exactly, except
that I'm kind of shy and not very athletic.  I mean, I'm not a troll or
anything.  I'm 5' 6" and about 155 pounds.  I'm not skinny and I have a
fairly broad chest and some natural definition to my upper body.  I'm
basically hairless, except for my sparse red bush and armpits.  My mother
and my aunts have always told me I am good looking, but it just embarrasses
me to hear that.  I'm afraid I have a much lower opinion of my looks than
they do.  What was it going to matter anyway?  I was going to be
babysitting a blind guy, right?

I went to my room after dinner that night and tried not to think about it.
I logged onto my computer and made the rounds of my usual sites and checked
all my email accounts.  There was nothing earth shattering there, so I
saved the best for last, as usual.  I checked the Nifty Archive for any new
posts.  I liked to keep up with the newest stories and was particularly
drawn to the Bisexual section.  I was a total virgin and completely
unsettled about my particular sexual orientation.  I was intrigued by the
descriptions of both the male and female anatomy as well as the details of
their interactions.  I knew I liked my own cock and the feelings I got when
I played with it.  After I jerked it to the point of no return, it didn't
matter whether I was imagining sex with a boy or a girl.  All that mattered
was that I felt that marvelous feeling while I shot my meager load.

Tonight I found a new story about some young friends who discovered each
other and explored each other's bodies up in a tree house.  The author
described how the ten year old boys had finally allowed a neighborhood girl
into their exclusive domain.  It had just the right mix of hard cocks and
moist pussy to put me over the edge.  I stroked my 5 ½" cock while I read
the description of the girl's slit between her legs and how the boys
examined and probed it and sniffed and licked it.  After she left, they
sucked each other to a dry orgasm I came into a tissue and threw it into
the toilet.  I milked the last drop out and swiped it off the head with my
finger and brought it to my tongue, as usual.  I liked the taste of my own
cum and the silky stickiness of it on my tongue.  I took a leak and went to
bed.

As I lay there, I wondered how a blind kid found out about sex.  He
couldn't watch porn or read it on the internet.  He couldn't even enjoy a
Playboy magazine.  Did they publish any porn in Braille? He couldn't gawk
at a pair of nice hooters or look up a girl's skirt or even check out
another dude's dick at the urinals.  I started to feel sorry for Brian.  I
wondered if he jerked off.  I fell asleep with a lot of questions on my
mind.

The next morning, Mom woke me up in time to shower, dress and walk the few
blocks to the Whites' house.  Mrs. White came to the door and let me in.
She was getting ready to go to work and just had a robe on and her hair was
still wet.  I could see her bra under her robe and she looked great to me.
I felt my rod starting to stir as I followed her into the kitchen.

"Brian, Mike is here," she said.  He was sitting at the kitchen table
eating a bowl of cereal.  He stopped at the announcement of my arrival.

"Hi, Mike," he said as he extended his hand in my direction.  I grabbed his
hand and shook it in greeting.

"Hi, Brian," I said.  "I guess we'll be spending some time together."  His
hand felt soft and warm and I got the feeling that he didn't want to let
go.  He looked a lot cuter than I had remembered and seemed to be more
mature than when I last saw him.  His hair was messy and his pajamas were
wrinkled.  Obviously, he just got up.

"I'll leave a list of things to do," said Mrs. White.  "Brian's pretty
independent, but he will need help with some things during the day.  Make
sure you let Mike know when you need something, OK sweetie?"

"Oh, Mom," Brian protested, "I'll be OK!  I don't need a babysitter and I'm
sure Mike has better things to do than hang out with a blind kid."  I noted
a taste of resentment in his voice.

"Hey, I don't mind," I said, "I was looking for an excuse to get out of the
house and I wanted to get to know you better anyway."

"I'm going to have to get going soon, so help yourself to some cereal and
juice if you want," she said as she headed back to her bedroom to finish
getting ready for work.  I found a bowl and a spoon and poured myself some
cereal and milk and orange juice.  We ate in silence with me stealing
glances at Brian until I realized that I didn't have to glance at him; he
couldn't catch me staring anyway!  What a different world it must be for
him, I thought.

Mrs. White came back looking like a million bucks and gave me instructions
on how to reach her and what to do and was out the door before I knew it.
There was an odd silence when she left that I didn't know how to fill.

"So, what would you like to do?" I asked.  I got up and started clearing
the dishes off the table.

"I don't know," he answered.  "What do you know about babysitting a blind
kid?" he asked rather sarcastically.

"Nothing," I admitted, "But I'm not really looking at this as a babysitting
job, and I had hoped it would be a chance to get to know you better as a
kid; not just a blind kid."

"I'm sorry," he said, "I guess I was just feeling sorry for myself."

"How about if we just get to know each other better," I proposed.  So we
began to talk about what we liked and disliked, what we thought of school
and what music we liked and stuff like that.  Before long we were joking
and laughing.  He reached over and put his hand on my arm as we talked.  I
didn't mind it; I realized that was his way of making "eye" contact with
me.  It made me realize that he had to relate to the world differently than
I did.

"Uh, Mike?" he stammered.  "Can I ask you something weird?"

"Sure."

"I can't really see you, so can I touch you with my fingers?" he asked.  I
realized that he had no reference for how I looked.  All he knew of me was
my voice and where he had had his hand on my arm.  He would have to rely on
his other senses to figure me out.

"That would be OK with me, what do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Can you just sit here next to me?"  I scooted my chair around next to him
and lifted his hand and set it on my chest.  He put his other hand on my
shoulder and then moved it up my neck to my face.  He had a light touch as
he moved his fingers across my face.  He touched my lips and nose and
lightly ran his fingers over my eyebrows and eyelids.  He felt my ears and
my hair.  His other hand felt my chest and danced over my nipples, making
them instantly hard.  Of course, the feelings in my nipples fired signals
down to my groin and my pecker plumped up a notch.  His hand slid over my
stomach and my side and moved down until it hit the top of my shorts.  He
abruptly stopped there.

"What color is your hair?" he asked.

"It's red," I answered, "Well, more of a blondish red, I guess."  He stood
up and pulled on my arm to indicate that I should stand, too.  He reached
up to find the top of my head so he could tell how tall I was.  I was about
4 inches taller than he was.  When I looked down, I could see that the
front of his pajamas was tented out a bit.  He must have found this
arousing, too.  He grabbed my arms and lifted them up, indicating that he
wanted me to hold them over my head.  As I raised them, he slid his hands
under my T shirt and felt up my sides until his hands were in my armpits.
It tickled, but I let him feel the sparse hairs there.  He pulled his hands
back out and I saw him raise his fingers to his nose.

"You have hair in your armpits," he stated, "and they smell nice, too.

"I just showered before I came and used deodorant," I responded.  "Do you
have any hair there?" I asked as I reached under his pajama tops and felt
his smooth armpits.

"No, I don't have any yet, but I think there are a couple sprouting down
there," he said and nodded toward his lower body.  "Do you have hair down
there, too?"

"Yup.  Not a lot, but it's starting to grow," I said.  That's not all that
was starting to grow.  I was sprouting a hard on having this kid caress my
body like he did.

"Hmm," he pondered.  I could tell he wanted to take this investigation
further, as evidenced by the bulge in his PJ's.  I had to find a way to
chance the subject.  I took the list off the table and read through it.

"It says here that you are supposed to shower and get dressed," I said.
"And then we're supposed to walk to the park."

"Yeah, I know," he said, sounding rejected.  "I'm sorry if I embarrassed
you, Mike, but I never have another guy around to ask these questions to.
It's just my Mom and me and sometimes some girl sitters."

"It's OK, Brian, you can ask all the questions you want," I said.  "We've
got a lot of time to spend together and I'm sure we'll get to all of them.
For now, let's get started with this list your Mom left.  Show me around a
bit and we'll get you ready for your shower."

"OK," he said, "Come on."  He reached for my hand and led me through the
house, explaining each room as we went along.  I could have sworn he could
see from his descriptions and his unfaltering pace.  "I have it all
memorized and I know how many steps there are between rooms."

I guess he anticipated my thoughts about his expert guidance.  When we got
to his room, he stepped aside and let me enter.  It was very neat, though
it was devoid of the usual band posters and such.  He came in and walked
directly to his dresser and pulled out clean underwear, shorts, and a T
shirt.  He laid them out neatly on the bed.

"Do these match?" he asked.

"Yes, they do," I said.  "How do you know?"

"I know from where they are in the drawers," he explained.  "Mom tells me
where the colors are and I remember it."

"Cool!" I responded.  Just another thing we sighted people take for
granted.  I was coming to respect him for his talents and for the amount of
effort it took for him to do most mundane tasks.  He pulled his pajama top
over his head and I could see that he was hairless and smooth.  He hooked
his thumbs in the waistband of his PJ bottoms and pushed them down and off.
He balled up the tops and bottoms and threw them into an open hamper in the
corner.  Swish, no net.

"You're amazing!" I commented.  "That was a perfect shot!"  He stood there
stark naked with a very proud look on his face.  I got to take a good long
look at his body and I liked what I saw.  He was smooth and had creamy
white skin.  His little package was starting to darken a little bit and his
circumcised penis hung nicely over his wrinkled scrotum.  It wasn't as hard
as it had been earlier, but wasn't all the way soft yet, either.  He made
no move to cover himself up.

"Can you see any hairs down there yet?" he asked.  He took a step closer to
me as if inviting me to inspect his crotch.  Oh, what the hell, I thought.
He seemed intent on me getting acquainted with his privates.

"OK, I'll check it out for you," I said.  "Why don't you jump up on the bed
so I can see you up close?"  He got on the bed and laid back for my
inspection.  He spread his legs and I noticed his dick plumping up again.
I put one hand on his stomach to let him know I was there and then
proceeded to investigate his crotch.  I pushed his dick this way and that
and looked for pubic hairs.  Then I felt all around his balls until he was
hard as a rock and starting to moan and twitch.  I moved my other hand up
to his nipples and tweaked them.

"Oh, Mike!" he gushed.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?  Want me to stop?" I asked.

"No! Don't stop!" he commanded.  He grabbed my hand and put it directly on
his penis.  I took it in my hand and began to slowly move my hand up and
down the shaft.  "Oh, shit, Mike, that feels so good!"

"Did your other sitters do this for you?" I asked.

"Nobody ever touched me before," he said as he thrust his crotch up to meet
my stroking fist.  "I tried it myself, but it never felt this good."  I
kept up the pace until he was breathing heavy and a tiny drop of wetness
appeared on the end of his dick.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" I asked.

"Yeah, whatever it is, I want it to happen!" he said.

"OK, just hang on and let it go," I said.  I sped up my action on his dick
and played my fingers over his balls until he was bucking his hips off the
bed,

"Oh, man!" he cried, "Something's happening!"  He pushed up and arched his
back and quivered and shook.  A few more drops of shiny liquid appeared and
ran down on my fingers.  He was frozen and holding his breath.  Suddenly he
fell back onto the mattress and let out a long sigh.  He was still and I
thought he passed out.

"Brian, are you all right?" I asked.  "Don't forget to breathe."  He took a
deep breathe and his eyelids fluttered and opened.  He had pretty blue
eyes, though they had a certain dullness to them and, of course, they
didn't focus on anything.

"I'm OK," he managed to say as he gained more composure.  "What was that?
Was that an orgasm?  I read about them in my books, but I never had one
before.  Did something come out of my penis?"

"Slow down, buddy," I said as I patted his tummy to reassure him.  "Yes,
you had an orgasm.  We usually say that you `came'.  And yes, something
came out of your penis.  It was semen, or `cum' and it came out of your
dick or cock or pecker, whatever you'd like to call it."

"What is it like?" he asked, "Was there a lot of `cum'?"

"Not a lot, but enough for a boy your age," I responded.  I looked down and
saw I still had some on my fingers.  "Here, there is still some on my
fingers."  I raised my hand to his face and put it under his nose.  He
sniffed and then touched it with his fingers.  He felt the slippery goo
between his fingers and smiled.

"What does it taste like?" he asked.

"Well, I've only tasted my own and it's not too bad," I said.  With that I
touched his lips with my fingers and he stuck out his tongue.  I deposited
what was on my fingers there and he rolled it around in his mouth.

"Hmmm.  Not bad; a little salty and slimy, but I like it!" he decided.  He
grabbed my hand and licked it clean.  I reached down and milked one more
drop out of his dick and swiped it off with my finger.  I raised it to my
tongue and tasted it.  Brian seemed to know what I was doing and waited for
my reaction.

"Yum!" I declared.  "A little sweeter than mine and every bit as
delicious."  My comment got a smile out of him and be seemed very proud of
his accomplishment.  He reached out to hold my hand.

"Mike, thanks for doing that for me," he said.  "I hope I didn't embarrass
you or make you feel uncomfortable.  I've been wondering about that kind of
stuff and I couldn't ask my mother about it."

"I'm fine with it," I said, "But it's probably best that you don't say
anything to anyone about it.  They probably wouldn't understand and might
think that I was forcing you to do something you didn't want to do."  He
thought about that for a minute.

"I won't tell anybody," he said.  "I just hope you don't hate me for it and
that you'll show me other stuff I have questions about."

"Well, don't worry about that," I reassured him, "I certainly don't hate
you and I'll try to answer any questions you might have."  I patted his
tummy and saw that his dick was starting to rise again.  "I think that now
would be a good time for you to get into the shower.  Can you do that by
yourself?"

"Certainly!" he said.  "I'll get cleaned up and dressed and meet you
downstairs.  You can watch TV or something."  He got off the bed and headed
into the bathroom.  I went back downstairs and looked for another bathroom.

I had something I needed to take care of.  My hard dick was straining at my
zipper and yearned to be free.  I found the bathroom and let it out and
wrapped my fingers around the hard shaft.  My hand flew over it until I
pumped out a big load into the bathroom sink.  Oh, the relief!  I sniffed
and tasted the remnants on my fingers and then rinsed the sink clean and
sat on the toilet until I could pee and flush the rest of the cum out of my
dick.  I washed my hands and went out to the family room.  This was going
to be a unique and interesting summer!