Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2005 17:00:27 -0800 (PST)
From: "New Stories (Dennis B.)" <storiesnew@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Boy Who Was Late for School - Chapter 2

The Boy Who Was Late for School - Chapter 2
by Dennis Banneker
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com

Check with your local and regional laws before reading this story
which depicts homosexual sex acts.  You must be of legal age and
not be offended by this type of content.
________________________________________


NOTE OF THANKS

To all who wrote in, thank you for your emails.  It was the good
number of emails that made me write a second chapter so soon.

Please don't be shy to write to me--I'm just a guy like you.  And
if you already wrote, I'll be happy to hear from you again.

Thank you so much.   --Dennis   :-)
________________________________________


OTHER STORIES

You can find a list of my other stories with a brief description
of each at the end of *this* chapter.  As of November 21, 2005,
this is the latest list.  Ages of the characters are included to
help give you more info.
________________________________________


The Boy Who Was Late for School
by Dennis Banneker
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com

Cole Anders, 13
Matthew Thornton, 24


    When I looked up and saw his little grin, my desire flared.

    Cole stood, his eyes glued to mine.  Seconds later, our eyes
strayed momentarily to each other's bulged clothing.

    I put my arms out, inviting him for a hug.

    "Oh, yes!" he said, flinging his arms around me.
________________________________________


CHAPTER 2


    Cole astounded me.

    His hands squeezed into my back and remained fixed.  Pressed
against me, he excited me with his warm body--ribs and erection
touching unassumingly, their diminutive size reminding me of his
youthful beauty and vulnerability.  The scent of his hair reached
me as his nose found the patch of bare skin at my open collar,
his touch electric.

    "This feels so good," he said in the voice of a starving man.

    The higher pitch of his speech did not detract from the
maturity of his sentiment.  I found it stimulating--the tone of
innocence and purity unmistakable.

    Neither of us made a sensual movement.  It was something else
Cole was drinking in--I felt its goodness, but its identity
escaped me.

    The feel of a man's approval, perhaps?  Maybe fatherly love?
That was possible.  I hoped companionship and comfort were
somewhere in his thoughts--I had those to give him in abundance
besides unfaltering approval and protective care.

    But he made no attempt to pleasure himself--an admirable feat
considering the stiffness of his boyhood.

    Despite my erection poking into him, I, too, felt something
beyond sexual stimulation.  I loved him.  It was not difficult to
admit that.  Though logic screamed at the thought, I had not
invited logic to the table.

    No.  Logic would not mock the beauty of this tender human
exchange--the boy's need fulfilled from my supply of whatever it
was Cole absorbed as we stood hugging--with me on the verge of
tears at the utter power of this moment, and Cole standing firm,
squeezing me desperately--his little breaths testament to the
potency of his emotion.

    "Incredibly good," I whispered, not to intrude on him.

    Sensuality could wait forever while the spell of this
interchange endured.

    After a long while, he spoke again.

    "I feel your strength, Matt."  He rested his head on my
chest.  Although he spoke of my strength, my grip on him lacked
the vigor of his.

    It was hard to believe that Cole would be only 14 in a few
months.  His demeanor and intelligence were beyond those years.

    "I feel yours," I said simply.  This did not motivate him to
disengage from me.

    "You think I'm strong?" he asked, his tone meek, soft,
unmistakably child-like.

    "I know what I feel," I said, separating from him, "and it
comes from here."  I tapped his chest.

    "Oh," he said, surprised, baffled perhaps.

    "Oh, yes," I said, tapping again.  "You have a man in there--
a good one.  And he's strong."

    I bit my tongue with the temptation to add that I would help
bring that man out of him.  I ached to do that.  But who could
know what would transpire beyond this day?  I had my hopes, but I
dared not falsely arouse his.

    "I think I feel him.  I never felt that before."

    "That's wonderful, Cole."

    I hugged him again, squeezing him harder than before--not
that any more hugging was needed, but to hide my tears.  Had I
encouraged him--given him hope?  Had my simple words made Cole
realize some great truth about himself?

    "You're crying," he said, thwarting my subterfuge--a
consequence I welcomed.

    "Yes."

    But now, I felt compelled to explain, and fear crept in.
What was I to say?  I could hardly understand it myself.  And how
would I elucidate this phenomenon without raising false hope in
the boy?

    He surprised me with his patience--the silence giving me
precious time.

    "Why?" he said, just as I thought I had the right words.

    "You're a very special person, Cole.  I'm so glad we met."
And I was thanking heaven for that reply.

    "I . . . I was thinking . . . the same about you."  It
sounded as if he had more to say.

    I gave him time, but the lad simply relaxed against me.

    "Time will tell, Cole."

    When we separated, he was flushed.  I looked for signs of
tears but found none.  Embarrassment was the only possibility
that came to mind.

    We stared at each other for some time.

    "Um," he said finally.

    "What is it?"

    "I really . . . need to pee."  And he charmed me with his
boyish modesty, his face full of unfeigned displeasure from
mouthing the words.

    "Oh, is that all?" I said in a comforting voice, as I pulled
him to me quickly--our chests touching momentarily.

    I explained the location of the bathroom, and Cole listened
patiently.  His expression, however, puzzled me.

    "Is it okay?  I mean . . . I don't wanna be alone.  Can you
go with me?"

    "Of course," I said.

    His gentleness and sheer innocence took me to the verge of
tears, once again.  But I was baffled.  His fear of the unknown--
of this day, I supposed--could justify his request.  Under other
circumstances, it would be absurd for a teenaged boy to want an
adult to accompany him to the bathroom.

    Walking to the toilet with him, I began to see a problem.  I
dismissed the thought, assuming Cole would have me wait outside
the door.  But the danger of assuming soon manifested.

    "No--come in with me," he said pleadingly.

    I had no power of resistance.  Had he asked me to put my foot
into the toilet, I may have agreed--so desperate was I to
accommodate him, to be of some earthly good to the boy.  There
was nothing I could say.

    I stood uncomfortably, watching him stand, holding his
erection delicately.  It did not seem that he was succeeding at
the toilet.  In a few moments, I was beyond discomfort, feeling
quite the intruder.  My altered breathing must have attracted his
attention.  Again his eyes pierced me, not unpleasantly.

    Blushing, I opened a magazine on the counter and pretended to
read.  With my eyes no longer directed at him, I hoped to ease
his situation.

    "No, you can look.  I want you to," he said.  The idea of
this was more than curious, but my thoughts were cut short.

    "Actually, I think I need to join you," I said, fiercely
embarrassed, the urge to urinate coming suddenly upon me.

    "That's okay," Cole said with a wide grin.

    Biology overshadowed any intent I had to analyze his amicable
response.

    New there were two stubborn erections that refused to
cooperate in the simple process of elimination.  And, sensual or
not, we both inspected each other's manly treasures, however
briefly--apparently with no uneasiness, as neither of us blushed
or seemed troubled.  Cole's indescribable grin at that moment
pierced me, causing a thud in my chest.

    I was fascinated with his endowment, irrespective of size,
but the fruitlessness of our efforts predominated my thoughts.
It seemed an insoluble problem.

    "I can't--" he said very quietly.

    "I know.  I can't either.  Tell you what--this will sound
odd, but get into the tub and take a warm shower.  The heat will
help you go, and it will all wash down the drain."

    "Are you sure?" he said, his eyes conveying welcome relief.

    "Yes.  I'm going to the other bathroom and do the same."

    My words still echoed off the tiles as Cole began to undress.
I hoped he would be all right, alone in the shower.

    Before he was naked, I asked if this arrangement suited him.
I was grateful that it did.  At least, he had me convinced.

    "I'll bring you a robe as soon as I can," I said, dashing
off.

    "Thanks, Matt," I heard as I was halfway down the hall.  A
polite boy, I thought, in addition to everything else.

    Before long, we were seated in our robes at the kitchen
table.  I served him hot cocoa while I made coffee for myself.

    "Well, how are you?" I said, looking at him expectantly.

    "That was funny," he said, on the verge of laughter, his hand
at his mouth.

    "What was funny?"

    "We both couldn't pee," he said, giggling.

    "Oh.  That happens.  Especially when you have an erection.
Did it bother you that I saw--"

    "No.  You care about me.  You even read that magazine so I
would feel better."

    "Yes, right," I said, mumbling, in awe of him again.

    "I don't care what you see," he said, standing, opening his
robe to reveal his boyhood hardness, as if to demonstrate his
sincerity.  "I mean--I do care, but it's okay."

    I suppose he couldn't help blushing, but his act of assertion
was more important to me.  And I meant to reinforce the
assertiveness that was decidedly linked to manhood.

    "Thank you," I said approvingly, hoping I'd conveyed the
lesson of acceptable assertiveness.  "That was quite a
compliment."

    Grateful for the brevity of the opportunity to regard his
anatomy in some lewd vein, I breathed a sigh of relief.  This,
despite my shameful yearnings.

    I wondered if that was the same erection or a new one as he
closed his robe and sat down.

    I deliberated whether he'd had the urge to touch me when we
stood at the toilet, and marveled that I'd resisted touching him.
Then, I felt grateful for the logical side of me that warred
successfully against my less admirable impulses.

    "No one's made me feel as good as you," he said calmly,
looking me right in the eye.

    My chest throbbed from the admiration of this pristine young
man.  As his simple statement clicked in, my admiration for the
boy swelled.

    "Cole--is it that things are very difficult at home?"

    "No, not really," he said, squirming uncomfortably.

    Not wanting to cause Cole unnecessary discomfort, I decided
to drop the subject for the moment.

    It was still morning, but as I glanced at the clock, my mind
drifted to Cole's home, and the problem he would have, telling
his mother about his absence from school.  I began to consider
this and came up with all kinds of unpleasant thoughts.

    "I'm very concerned about your mother.  What will she do when
she finds out you missed school without informing them about it?

    "Oh--I called them and said I wasn't feeling good and my mom
was already at work."

    Here I was worried sick!  Why hadn't he mentioned that
before?

    "You might have told me.  I was worried."

    "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes reaching out to me as if to
emphasize his regret.

    "You may want to tell you mother you spent the day with a
friend."

    "No.  You could get in trouble," he said fearfully.  "She
might make me tell who it was.  I can't do that."

    "You really are amazing, aren't you," I said, sitting,
pulling him to me, my eyes on a plane below his.

    From his face, I could tell he didn't understand.  As he
stared into me, emotion prevailed as I pressed forward and very
gently kissed him on the lips.

    I pulled away instantly, my heart beating harder than ever
before.  "Cole, I'm sor--"

    "That was so good," he said wistfully.

    "It was?"  I feared for my life, my chest still pounding
insistently.

    "Yeah," he said calmly.  "My dad used to kiss me like that.
I loved it.  Sorta got the same feeling when you did it."

    "Oh," I said, catching my breath, thinking I might survive
this moment, after all.  "That's very good to know, Cole."

    "But I didn't get horny when *he* did it."

    "I see," I uttered, blushing profusely.

    "That's weird, huh?"

    "Not really, Cole.  We both like guys, and I'm not really
your father, so it's not terribly surprising, is it?"

    "No--I guess not."

    It seemed he had more to say, but that was not forthcoming.

    "Is that . . . is kissing something I should avoid?"

    "No," he said emphatically.  "Please don't . . . avoid it."

    "All right," I said, giving him a warm smile.

    "I--I didn't mean to yell.  I'm sorry."

    "Don't be.  You're a man.  Men raise their voices sometimes.
Just--make sure it's worth your effort when you do.  And I think
it was worth it, this time."  I had a feeling I had overdone it
with the fatherly wisdom.

    "Really?" he said in that sweet, soft tone of his.

    "Really, really," I said, feeling whimsical suddenly,
reaching my arms for him.  I soon had a squirming lapful of boy.

    "You're still horny!" he said with captivating youthful
excitement, without a trace of indecency.  I suppose for Cole it
was simply another thing he liked.

    "Yes, I like you that way, you know."

    "I know," he said with a giggle, his crooked grin more
enchanting that ever.  "I like you that way, too."

    "Yes, well--we agree, then," I said, thinking we were about
to cross a line.

    "Will you teach me about sex?" he said earnestly as I took in
a mouthful of coffee.  I don't know how I managed not to spit it
out.

    "Teach you--about sex?"  This had me trembling.

    "Yeah.  You can do that--right?"

     I took a deep breath, fighting the temptation to tell him he
could safely wager his future earnings I was capable of that--not
to mention eager.

    "Yes, I can," I said calmly, "But," I added quickly, "I'm not
going to teach you new things.  You must hear or discover
something on your own and ask.  Then I can teach you."

    "How can I do that?"

    "You'll hear other boys talking about sex.  There's always
the internet."

    "Oh," he said, deflated, "I don't get to hear what the other
boys say.  And I don't have a computer."

    "I see.  Well, there's one in my study and another
downstairs."

    "But, um--I don't know how to work it--on line, I mean," he
said, his face twisted, fearful perhaps of my disapproval.  How
could I disapprove of some technical thing he didn't know?

    "THAT, I can teach you right now."  This elicited the boy's
most enticing grin, which grew wider as I stood up.

    "Yes!" he shouted.

    "But put your clothing back on.  I'll do the same."

    "Okay," he said, his excitement unabated.

    The boy was nearly trembling when I took him downstairs.

    I wasn't about to go to any sexual sites, but I showed Cole
how to search for things.  His eyes were wide with anticipation
as he learned he could find almost anything.

    "This is so cool."  The boy was in awe of the concept.  I
heard him typing away as I left him alone in the downstairs den.

    I made my way back to the kitchen and my coffee.

    'What have I done?' I began to think.  Cole was liable to
find all sorts of unseemly things in his searches.  I told myself
he needed to learn how to handle those situations.  If I coddled
him through the process, it would disarm him, disable him from
learning, not about sex, but about responsible action.

    "That was sweet!" he said, coming up the stairs, shouting
excitedly.

    I saw the mighty erection in his shorts and his self-assured
grin when he came into view.  It was odd, I thought, that a boy
his age walked about with an obvious swelling in his shorts
without making some attempt to fix himself.  I waited for him to
ask about his findings on the internet.

    "No questions?" I said, anticipating many.

    "Not really.  I already know how to jerk off."

    "You saw lessons on that?"

    "Yeah."

    "Interesting.  What else did you see?"

    "Do I hafta tell you?"

    "No."

    "Oh," he said, disappointed, "you don't want to know?"

    First, he's a genius; now, a kaleidoscope of confusion.

    "Of course I want to know," I said softly and calmly, "but I
won't force you to tell me."

    "I knew what sucking was before, but now I really know."
There was Cole's charming blush again.

    "Oh," I said, adjusting my robe.

    "That made you horny, didn't it!"  His sly grin subdued me
very effectively.

    "Yes."  It was impossible to lie to Cole.  How could one lie
to a boy who pours his heart out--whose unbridled excitement and
honesty flows from every pore?

    "That's so cool," he said in awe, apparently willing to leave
it at that, though I had my doubts.  And desires.

    Foolishly, I tempted him.

    "So--what are you going to do?" I asked.

    "Um . . . well--I need to, you know, jerk off."  This last
part he said in a whisper, touching himself--to add emphasis I
presumed.

    "I see," I whispered to his faltering face.  "And that's not
a bad thing.  We all do it.  I do it--masturbate, that is," I
added, wanting to be sure he knew the proper term.

    "Oh.  That's awesome!  I wanna do it with you."

    "WITH me?" I said, the tension rising within.

    "Yeah.  It'd be hot to watch you."

    "Watch me?"

    "Yeah.  Yours is big and . . . it'd be fun to see."

    'Fun.  At least that,' I thought.  I stared at him.

    "Well, I mean--if you want to."  He was intimidated.  But
that didn't interfere with the charm he applied.  What else had
he learned?  And at *my* computer, no less.

    Now what could I say?  'No, I don't want to.'?  The
alternative was equally difficult.

    "All right.  But if you're doing it wrong, I'll correct you.
And you must promise to obey my correction."  I was giving it all
the manly assertiveness I could muster, but I had doubts about
controlling myself.

    "I promise."

    I took him to the spare bedroom, stopping along the way to
furtively retrieve my lubricant, my knees shaking as I went.  I
suspected he used no lubricant.  His organ had appeared chafed
when I saw it at the toilet.

    "This is a cool room," he said enthusiastically.

    "Glad you like it.  It's yours if you ever sleep over."  I
regretted saying it instantly.  That opportunity might never
arise.

    "Wow, Matt--that's awesome."

    I gave Cole an encouraging look as I made to unfasten my
belt.  He cooperated immediately.

    Undressing in front of each other, especially for the stated
purpose, turned out to be more arousing than I'd imagined.  This
time, as one watched the other, the sensual element bloomed.

    Unclothed, Cole's body was as I'd imagined it.  He stood at a
tall, slender, 5 feet eight inches, with promising muscles that,
while formed, were at the verge of budding.  His unblemished,
hairless skin had that lightly-tanned look that many blonds have
--a sort of honey color that went so well with his almost-blond
hair.  His blue eyes and cute face completed the picture of
pubescent perfection--a beautiful boy not far into puberty.

    Cole had only a shimmering sparse growth of golden hair on
his arms and lower legs, and above his four-inch organ, a small
patch of fine, light-colored hair.  I did not see any strands of
hair as he raised his arms to remove his shirt.

    "You look so hot," he said, his voice half-choked with the
excitement he felt.

    Here we were, two naked males, about to perform an age-old
act as if it were a prescribed ritual.  I was certain that for
Cole, it was a case of undisguised need of sexual release.

    There was the problem of position.  Who should be where?  I
solved that by reclining on the large bed.  Cole soon followed,
his body a foot from mine.

    What earthly good was I doing him now?  It was too late to
ask if he was sure he wanted to do this.  The boy had begun his
frantic, unlubricated stroking.

    "Cole--would it be all right if I left you alone to do this?"

Dennis B.
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com

That's all I wrote so far.  Thanks for reading.

Any comments would be great!
Hope you liked it.  I feel like continuing this story.
Even one email would put a smile on my face and make it
easier to write more.   :-)  --Dennis

I HAVE 7 OTHER STORIES:

1.  Crazy for Chad (a love story; ages 16 & 17)
      - last post APPROX. Nov. 15, 2005; High School

2.  Getting it Hard at Spankin High (a discipline-school story;
    ages 13 to 19)
      - last post APPROX. Oct. 26, 2005; Authoritarian

3.  Finding the Boy Who Stole My Heart (a kind of love story;
    ages 22 and 15; nothing forced)
      - last post APPROX. Oct. 9, 2005; Adult-Youth

4.  Spankin High School Club Initiation (high school ages;)
      - last post APPROX. Oct. 16, 2005; High School; Athletics

5.  My Son Drives Me Crazy
      - last post APPROX. Oct. 8, 2005; Incest

6.  Discovering My Little Brother (two brothers, 17 and 13 start
    to get along real well)
      - last post APPROX. Nov. 14, 2005; Incest

7.  Frat Initiation Hell Week (not as grueling as first
    meets the eye)
      - New story.  Chapter 1 posted APPROX. Nov. 7, 2005;
        Authoritarian.

LAST POST DATES good as of November 21, 2005.  Actual post dates
may be later, by the time you read this.

Thanks,
Dennis
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com