Date: Mon, 09 Nov 1998 15:38:35 PST
From: ascyltus@hotmail.com
Subject: Andrew's Night In 

Any comments or suggestions can be sent to ascyltus@hotmail.com

Any flames will be trashed, unread.

This is a work of fiction, dreamed up by me and mixed with my fantasies.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This story involves consensual sex acts between an adult male and a minor
boy. If this kind of subject matter offends, disturbs, or revolts you, Duh!
Don't read it! It's that simple!

			     Andrew's Night In
				By Ascyltus

A typical Tuesday. Nothing much going on; nothing on TV. My girlfriend
calls me: She has to stay over at her parent's house tonight. There's a
thunderstorm moving in and her kid brother, Andrew, is afraid of
lightning. He's eleven, and adorable. Her Mom's working nights. She's not
going to be home `till seven in the A of the M. Her stepdad is a long
distance truck driver and won't be home until Saturday. Sandra's on
vacation -- she normally works graveyard, but she took annual leave.

So, here's the opportunity to hang out with Sandra and Andrew. I don't
think Sandra's going to go for "Spin the bottle", but you never know.

Sandra's 24 and really cool. Of course I like her for two reasons. 1) She
looks like a boy and 2) Andrew, her younger brother. Oh, and she's really
laid back, and loves to screw. And she likes me (just lucky, I guess!)
Andrew is into Karate and is really quite fit. Lean muscular body, 4'10"
tall, with the most beautiful ass. Quiet, shy, loves science. He doesn't
wear braces, but does have a retainer which makes him lisp. This makes him
very self-conscious. Andrew thinks nobody likes him. Boy, is he ever
wrong. He's also the most ticklish child I've ever met, and has a tendency
to wet himself when tickled too much. Hee hee!

So I call Sandra on the cellular. From outside her Ma's house. "Can I come
over?" I hear Andrew in the background "Please, please, please?" He likes
me too. Sandra puts up a mock fight, but she wants to see me anyway. "OK,"
she finally capitulates. "Where are you?" At that I ring the
doorbell. "Hold on a second, someone's at the door," she says. God, I love
that trick, even if it's really old. Ain't modern technology wonderful.

So She lets me in. They're watching a movie, "Dutch". It's a comedy about a
spoiled brat and his wanna-be-dad. It is kinda slow, but the kid is
gorgeous. Maybe thirteen, beautiful eyes, sexy voice, great smile. You
never get to see him naked, but you can't have everything. I'm getting
horned up just watching this movie.

Right now you're probably wondering, "Does Sandra know he likes boys?" Hell
no! She'd have a fit. Of course, when I'm making love to her (which I do
quite regularly), all I'm thinking about doing her younger brother up the
ass.

So this movie draws on, and Sandra gets up to get me a beer. Andrew steals
her seat on the barca-lounger, so when she comes back, she sits on the
couch with me. We snuggle for a bit, watch the movie, kiss, I can tell
Andrew is interested and a little jealous.

Let's cut to the chase here. Make a long story short. After the movie,
Andrew shows me his room and his neato science kit. I put some cat hair on
a slide and we look at it through the microscope. It's after nine-thirty,
so Sandra says that Andrew has to get to bed. School tomorrow. He goes to
wash up. I notice he leaves the bathroom door open a wee bit, so I make up
some excuse to go back to his bedroom -- hey, I need to put the microscope
away.. Lame excuse, but Sandra buys it. I walk slowly past the bathroom
door and Wow!. Andrew is stark naked, brushing his teeth. Every time he
brushes, his little peter wiggles in synch with his brushing. About three
inches, soft, and cut. Not a hair. I'm entranced. Oops, he notices me
watching -- "Hey!" he says, and shuts the door. I'm so embarrassed. But I
go put the microscope away anyway and rejoin Sandra on the couch. We coo
and pet for a while, and we're actually getting pretty heavy when I'm aware
of someone watching.

By now, there's thunder and lightning and the rain is coming down really
hard. The wind is making the house creak and groan. Sandra and I are really
getting heavy into it, when I become aware of another presence in the
room. There, standing behind Sandra with the most amused look, is her
Ma. "Um, Good evening, Mrs. Prince", I say lamely. Well she nearly busts a
gut laughing, and when she calms down enough she says I ought to stay
overnight as it's raining so hard, the roads are bad, and I can sleep in
the basement on the pull-out couch. "Er, Sure," I say, "That's very kind."

She's wet and wants a shower, and is Andrew in bed?, and she's going to bed
because she traded shifts and has to be up at five, and can Sandra take
Andrew to school etc etc. Cool! She's not even mad. Hey, what can I
say. She likes me too, - I'm just a likeable guy. Modest, too.

Ok, Ok I go make up the basement room. Sandra comes down to help me out and
make sure I have everything I need. We start to kiss, but her Ma calls her
to help with something. She says good-night, and goes back upstaris, to
sleep in the guest room. That's opposite her Ma's room, upstairs, and the
doors are both open so no hanky-panky. I turn on the TV, not loud, but
settle down to cartoons. I'm down to my boxers, sitting up, wrapped in a
blanket, watching "South Park," the episode where the kids win the
dodgeball championship. Pretty soon I'm asleep, never having found a use
for the small sampler bottle of lotion I found in the basement
bathroom. No, I was not intending on softening up my hands with it, except
in it's application elsewhere ...

I'm awakened by someone crawling into bed with me. The TV's been turned
off; it's pretty dark, and I can't see, but I figure Sandra's slipped
away. I put my arm around her and she snuggles into me, cuddling up next to
me and throwing her leg over mine. My dick starts to grow as I kiss her
forehead and my hand curves around her T shirt to fondle her breast. Now
Sandra doesn't have the largest breasts in the world, but they're a darn
site bigger than these mosquito bites I'm fondling. What the hell?? I was
drowsing, but now, suddenly I'm fully awake. Lightning flashes and I'm
surprised (but not alarmed) to see Andrew cuddling me.

"Umm, Andrew, I thought you were Sandra," I say by way of an apology.

"Chris, you're not mad, are you," he asks. "I was afraid of the lightning,
and Mom hates it when I get into bed with her. Can I sleep down here with
you?"

I still have my arm around him. I cuddle him close, and tousle his auburn
hair. Sure, I don't care, but won't your Ma mind?"

"Nah, she won't care. Besides, she'll never know -- she sneaks out so early
she doesn't like to wake anyone up anyway. "

"What about Sandra? What if she finds out I--" I was having trouble finding
the words "--slept with her brother. I could feel Andrew shrug. "I won't
tell"

I pull aside the comforter and he gets in beside me, then snuggles up
closer, as if that were possible. I can smell his young boy smell. We lay
side by side, his head level with my chest. I can also smell my own rut,
exuding pheromones from every pore. My erection grows almost to bursting as
he puts his knee between my legs and his arm around me. I hold him close,
just comforting him from the crack and Brrrm of the thunder. Every new
flash makes him stiffen, and every loud crash makes him cuddle closer,
burrowing under the comforter.

"Andrew, there's nothing to be scared of. It's not going to hit us", I
proffer.

"How do you know?"

"Well, the lightning is getting further away. Count how long it takes from
the flash to the thunder, in seconds. That's approximately how far away the
lightning is in miles. And if it gets longer between the flashes and the
thunder, then it's moving away. "

He picks his head up from under the comforter, and is the picture of
cuteness with the blanket draped over his head. Flash! *One, two, three
... thirteen, fourteen, BRRRRMMMM.* Fourteen miles. The next one's sixteen.

"I turned off the TV because you're not supposed to have `lectrical
appliances on in a thunderstorm," he says.

"That's very wise."

"Chris," he asks after a moment of silence, "Do you love Sandra?"

"I don't think I can answer that", I evade. "I certainly *like* her a
whole lot."

"Do you umm, you know, sex her?"

I guffaw. "Why do you want to know?" I ask. "Jealous?" -- I tickle him a
little.

After he gets done giggling, he says, "Really. What's sex like?"

My face flushes. It's one of those movie moments where the camera pans out
and moves forward at the same time, making the background move strangely in
relation to the frame. Here's this adoreable little boy snuggled in my arms
asking me about sex. And I *know* he wants it. Ahh shit. Do I do the proper
thing and say, "Go ask your Ma?"

Hell, no. After a moment of silence, I reply: "Well, do you ever, um, you
know, stroke your dick?"

He's already embarrassed, I can tell, but spunky, too. "Well, yeah,
sometimes"

"And how does it feel?"

"Pretty good. Is that sex?"

"Well, that's a part of it, at least. Let me ask you this: What do you
think about when you stroke it?"

That stumps him. A pause, then a shrug. "I dunno, what do you think about?"

I pull away from him enough to look his beautiful (I know they're blue, but
gray in the half-light) eyes. "Sometimes I think about making babies, and
how much I want to. Sometimes I think about ... other things" I put in
lamely. Heck, I can't tell this beautiful boy, who has his legs wrapped in
mine, that every time I think of sex, this, what we're doing, is what I
think about: cuddling, holding, loving him. Or can I? I'm very confused at
this moment. He rescues me.

"Kids at school say that when you sex white stuff shoots out of your dick."

I guffaw again, holding short my laughter. "Well, that's true. It shoots
out of mine, and will shoot out of yours, when you get older. By now the
storm has reduces to faraway rumbling, but the rain is still coming down in
torrents. My dick is throbbing and begging for release. I ease around a
little so it's touching his leg, and no longer in an awkward position.

"Chris, can you show me the white stuff?" he asks, awkwardly.

I'm hesitant. "Andrew, that could get me into a *lot* of trouble."

"I promise I won't tell"

"I'm not so sure that's such a good idea. Years ago, it was OK for men and
boys to have sex together, but nowadays it's pretty much forbidden. I could
go to jail if anyone found out" I realize at this moment that I didn't say
"If I did", I said "If anyone found out." I'm committed. I have set a
course of action in motion.

"I'll never tell, I promise."

"Not even your friends at school?"

"OK, I promise."

"Well, OK, but remember it's only because you asked me to. If things get
out of hand, or you're scared, you say stop, and we stop and pretend
nothing ever happened, OK?"

"Um, OK. What do we do?"

"Well, you have to help me, too", I tell him.

"OK. How?"

I start by taking the blanket off. I turn the TV on for background noise,
so nobody listening in would be suspicious. Cartoon channel. Cow and
chicken.

"First we have to take our clothes off," I say. He starts to unbutton his
pyjama top, and I help him with the buttons. I fold the top in half and
hang it over the headboard. Then I put my hands inside the elastic of his
Pajama bottoms, and slowly slide them down his smooth legs. He's wearing
boxers underneath, and as he moves I catch a glimpse of bare flesh through
his fly. I can also see a lump where his little dick is getting rigid.

"OK, now you help me take my clothes off", I say. I guide his hand over my
erect dick and he laughs. He gets his fingertips inside my waistband, in
the front, and starts to pull my shorts off. I scoot my butt up and pull my
shorts down from the rear while he pulls down the front. His small hand
brushes my throbbing cock as the underwear comes down from the front, past
my knees, to my ankles where I kick out of them. My flagpole, I can tell,
is being admired. "Now it's your turn." I slip my hands down the front of
his boxers. He gasps and shudders as my fingertips brush his smooth pubis,
and I fondle the head of his small expanding cock. He apes my movements as
I pull down the front of his boxers, taking them past his knees to his
ankles where he kicks out of them. Cow and Chicken is forgotten as I admire
his smooth body in the light of the glowing CRT. He lays on his back as I
lay beside him, one knee in the air. I stroke his smooth belly and my
fingers trace lazy circles as I get lower and lower. I'm in ecstasy as I
begin to fondle his small cock. It grows with my attention, until it
points, ramrod straight, towards his navel. His two nuts nestle together
like beans and I can see them squirm around in his light brown nutsack,
looking like a soft moving walnut. I begin to stroke him rhythmically and
his breath starts to come in gasps. I gaze into his angelic face as he
watches what I'm doing. Then, as I fondle him, he reaches over and starts
to stroke my cock in soft, rhythmic strokes.

"Why do you have so much hair down here," he asks.

"It's called *secondary sexual characteristics*," I say. "All guys get
hair down here, when their dicks grow bigger, and they start to produce
sperm -- you know, the white stuff, around age 13 or so. Surely you've
heard of *puberty*."

"Yeah, they talked about some of that stuff in school, in biology class."

He starts to knead my poor stiff dick. "Ow," I said. "Please be gentle,
like this" -- I leave his small one alone and show him how to stroke my
cock with gentle strokes.

"So when does the white stuff shoot out?" he ventures.

"Well, it sort of builds and builds. When it shoots out it is called an
*orgasm* and it is pretty much the best thing you can feel."

"Can I have an orgasm?"

"I think you can, but stuff probably won't shoot out of your dick, not for
another year or so."

"Oh. Are you going to orgasm?"

I chuckled. "I'll let you know when, but at the rate we're going, I'd say
that is a big 10-4."

I suddenly remembered the lotion. "Hold on a second," I say. I roll over
and fumble around in my clothes, soon finding the small bottle I found in
the bathroom.

"Lay on your back", I say. "I'll rub you down with this -- It'll feel
good." He does, spreading his legs wide. I cop a quick look at his little
pink flower, then pour some of the lotion onto my hand and start to rub his
dick with it. It is pink, it squishes and squelches a little, and smells
faintly of flowers. I sit up, and scoot around to the back of him. I sit
with my legs behind his legs, turned around from him, looking down the
length of his firm body. My stiff dick is scant inches away from that
little pink hole I want so badly. Andrew props himself up on his elbows as
I continue to jerk off his small cock with my lubricated hand. With some
lotion in my other hand, I start to massage his inner thighs, and his
crack. I tell him "This may hurt just a little, but it feels good", as I
rub around his small puckered butthole. "OK," he says, trusting me. Little
by little I begin to work my left index finger into his tight little
ass. He squirms a little, but it doesn't seem to cause any undue pain. It's
very tight, but loosens a little with my pressure. The lubrication helps
enormously and soon, as his dick gets harder, my finger has disappeared to
the hilt into his butt. I wiggle it around and he moans and lays back. As I
fondle his prostate and whack him off at the same time, I ask, "Does it
feel good?:"

"Mmmm yeah" he says.

I start to move my finger in and out to the timing of my strokes on his
cock. He starts to buck, and writhe, and my motions on his cock and in his
ass get faster and faster. Soon, he squeals, loud enough that I'm sure
somebody upstairs can hear, but I guess they'll blame it on the TV. Heck, I
can't stop now. I'm having a ball, so to speak. He bucks, quivers, then
lays back exhausted. I think he's just had his first orgasm, and sure
enough, there's a little liquid coming from his now limping dick. I take my
finger from his butthole and use my boxers to wipe him, then I wipe my
finger off. "How'd that feel?"

"Wow! I felt like I was gonna puke, but from down there."

"Yup, you just had yourself an orgasm." I grin.

He looks at me. "But you didn't." He gestures at my still erect cock.

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you gonna help me out?"

"How?"

"Ever hear of a Blow Job?"

"Yeah. But what is it?"

"That's where you suck on someone else's cock." His little rod is pretty
well polished clean by now, so I go down on it, licking the tiny head,
sucking him all the way in, letting up. He's beginning to get hard
again. I've demonstrated, now it's his turn. Besides, the leftover lotion
tastes awful.

"Wanna give it a try?"

He says nothing, but scoots around onto his knees. His stiffy hangs down --
his ass is in the air -- gorgeous. He takes my cock in his hand, then
begins by kissing it. Then he sucks it in. "Easy, kiddo" I tell him, as I
can feel his sharp white teeth nibbling. "Just suck, don't eat, huh?"

"Thorry," mouth full of cock. Can't talk too well. As he sucks and licks I
reach over and fondle his wee one hanging down, then close my eyes,
fondling, being sucked. I'm in heaven. I can feel it build, then I whisper,
"I'm about to shoot: You'd better--"

"What?" he withdraws. I'm about a millimeter away from orgasm -- ahh he
touches my cock and strokes it a little, about to go down again. His face
is inches away as I buck and spray hot cum in his angelic face. He's
surprised, and not too happy, and cum is dribbling down his face, off his
nose, from his pouted lips. I crack up. "It's not funny", he says. I can't
help it. I lean over and kiss him full on the lips, tasting my own
cum. "Thank-you," I whisper. Then I wipe up his face with my shorts.

I take him by the hand and lead him into the bathroom. I love modern
houses, with showers in the basement. I bundle him into the shower and
climb in after him. I set the taps as he watches, and turn on the
shower. Warm water soaks us down as I take the soap and start to rub him
down with it. Of course I pay special attention to his crack, and push at
his little hole with my finger. I soap down his cock. I hand him the soap
and he starts to lather me down, and to my surprise does the same with my
ass too, to the point where he gets his finger in there up to the
knuckle. He wiggles it around in there, then soaps my cock down. I'm
stroking his tan shoulders as he does this. "Let me get your back" I
say. He turns around and I soap his back down. By this time I'm fully stiff
again, and he's getting there. I snuggle up to his back, and reach around
the front, leaning over. I soap him all over again, and fondle his cock and
balls, with my hard cock awkwardly pressed downward along the crack of his
ass. "Do you know what I want more than anything?" I whisper in his ear.

He turns around and looks at me with those pretty blue, trusting
eyes. "What?"

I'm a little embarrassed to have him look at me so directly, but I go ahead
anyway. "I want to put my dick in your butt."

He looks at me and smiles, all his pretty white teeth showing. He's not
sure if I'm joking. He looks down at my ample member. "It won't fit" he
says, simply.

"There's a trick to that" I tell him, making it up as I go along. God, I
want him. "If I use enough lotion you will get wide enough for me."

"You're kidding, right?"

"You never hear of buttfucking?

"Well, yeah, but I never thought--"

"Well, that's what it is. Will you let me try? If it hurts, or you don't
like it, I'll stop, I promise."

He takes a little convincing -- you know, I give him that sidelong pouty
glance that says, "Please please please."

"Well, OK, if it doesn't hurt."

I don't want to betray his trust so I tell him, "It may hurt at first, but
as I get into you, it starts to hurt in a good-feeling way. Like when I
made you want to throw up from your dick, but different." I'm not sure he
knows what I mean, but he's willing to try.

We get out of the shower and towel off, then sneak back to bed. By the
light of Dexter's Laboratory he lays down on his back and puts his knees in
the air. I kneel over him, and begin to kiss him all over. I kiss his
nipples. I kiss his bellybutton. I kiss his mound then I take his cock into
my mouth, which tastes much better without the lotion on it. I suck him all
the way in, and get his soft walnut-shell balls in my mouth too. I'm ready
with the lotion; I smear this over his crack and as I suck him I work my
index finger into his ass again, this time more easily. As his cheeks
spread wider for me I gently work my pointer finger in, too. He's too
preoccupied with my sucking to notice the dilation, until I start walking
my fingers inside his rectum, fondling his prostate. "Mmmm", he says again,
definitely getting very stiff.

"Your ass is wide enough for me now", I say withdrawing my fingers and my
lips. "I'm going to enter you now, OK?"

"Um, OK. You're sure it won't hurt?"

I hold up my two pink-smeared fingers, together, and show him they're as
wide as my cock. "I had these in you, and it didn't hurt much, did it?"

"I guess not."

"I'm going to try, now, OK?" I say lubing my cock with the lotion on my
fingers.

"Um, well, OK, I guess."

I line up my cock with his fine young ass, but push as I might, I can't get
it in. It's not hurting, him, though -- in fact he seems kinda fascinated
by the entire process.

"Maybe if you roll over?" I ask. He turns around and gets on his hands and
knees. I survey the damage that my fingers have done already -- no blood,
but an obvious dilation. Shit, I'd be lucky not to end up with twenty years
and a cellmate named Bubba. But I am having too much fun. Fun, hell. I am
in Nirvana. I kneel behind him, and stroking his stiff dick with one hand I
stick the same two fingers in his hole again. Then I work in my ring
finger, but he doesn't seem to mind. I take all three fingers out and with
my well lubed cock I try to enter him again, but he's so slippery, I just
slide around his crack. Looking down, I grasp my cock, put it right up
against his flower, and push hard.

I'm in. I feel the head of my cock slip in past the sphincter. He moans,
something like "Unghhh - shit, 'S'big." I thrust gradually and slide a
little further inter his tender hot little tight hole. My stroking around
his front is getting a little more frenetic as I pump all the way into his
crack. It's spongy in there, and I can feel the heat from his body. As I
thrust all the way in, he spasms, as his sphincter tries to reject me, but
I hold it in. I can hear him sucking through his teeth, and I lean over him
and whisper, "You OK?"

"Mmmm Nghhhhh," he nods. I can feel how deep he is with my cock buried in
him. I look down to see my rigid member buried in his white ass. What a
turn-on -- my rigid shaft buried to the hair in his dilated
sphincter. There's just a little flower-scented pink stuff that oozes out
around the base of my shaft as I pump into him, in and out, in and out,
never very far out, but working in deeper, it seems, with every thrust. I
can feel the depth of him on the head of my dick as it fills his rectum all
the way. He starts to shudder and I know he's close to cumming again. I
sure as hell am. A couple more thrusts, as I fondle his bare chest with one
hand and his quivering cock and writhing balls with the other, and then I
shoot like a firehose into his rectum. As my once proud cock diminishes
inside him, he exclaims as a torrent of milky-yellow substance spatters
through my stroking hand onto the bedclothes. I guess this is prepubescent
ejaculate, though I'm really far too well gone in my own little world to
care much.

I withdraw from him. I survey the damage -- his ass is pretty well dilated,
and a little bruised. He's going to have trouble sitting in class tomorrow.

We go to take a second shower, taking the soiled undersheet., and I
sheepishly tell him thank-you a dozen times, thanks he reciprocates with
wet kisses. While I wash myself and the sheet in the shower he sits on the
toilet. I know he must evacuate my sperm, but I get worried and look out
from behind the curtain as he sits there a long time.

"How you feeling?"

"I feel like I have to crap but I can't."

"Oh -- yeah, that feeling goes away after a little while. A hot shower
might help."

He gets in with me and I wash him down thoroughly, still feeling a little
frisky. The undersheet, stain removed, is drip drying over the shower
rail. After a while of washing, soaping, and warm water and massaging the
affected area he tells me his ass feels better -- still sore, but a good
sore.

We get out of the shower and towel off. He shows me the washing machine and
dryer. I can tell he's sleepy -- I put him to bed while I put the bedsheet
in the dryer and wait for it to finish. I wad the sheet up and put it on
the carpet next to the bed, like it came off during the night. Then I crawl
into bed beside him, and we sleep like spoons, shushed to sleep by the
gentle sound of the rain. When I wake the next day the sun is streaming in
through the basement windows. Andrew is gone, off to school without having
roused me. Now, who knows what the day will bring?