Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2012 13:28:33 +0100 (BST)
From: Andy Email <email_andy@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Exploring - new story for GM Adult/Youth

Disclaimers and warnings.

The important characters and place names in this story have been changed to
protect the not so innocent.  The story itself is fictional.  Nothing like
this happened that I know about.

If it's illegal to read this stuff where you live, move.

If you're not old enough to read this stuff, hurry up and grow up.

If you don't like stories about sex between men and boys, and boys and
boys, why are you here???

Dedications.

This goes out to the guys in my life who have made a massive difference to
me.

Uncle Andy – your stories led me to you, and your support and love over
the last six months has been immense.  Love you dude.

Liam – your stories are kewl and your support has also been appreciated.

Billy – thanks for being the best bud a lad could ever have.

Jai (The Jaiman!!) – Brother, friend, angel.  No more words are needed.

Thanks to Liam for helping to edit as well.

Exploring

Chapter One

Moving home sucks.  It really does.  Specially during the summer holidays.
I mean, when we get to the new hellhole of a place that my Dad is now
dragging us off to, what are the chances of making friends during the
holidays?  It stinks.

Well that's what now faced me and my younger brother Jack.  My name's Andy
by the way.  I'm 14 and Jack is 12, and as far as sibling rivalry goes, we
are actually pretty good mates.  I guess cos we move around so much cos of
my Dad's job, we have found that it's hard to make friends and keep them,
so we rely on each other to be our best mates.  The only saving grace for
both of us is that we are both pretty good at football and rugby, so
wherever we move to, we always try to join the local teams which help with
making friends, but this time, we have moved in the summer when there is no
football or rugby.

My Dad is some big shot consultant who goes from contract to contract
around the wonderful country that is Great Britain.  In the last six years,
we have lived in London, Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh and Cardiff.  And now
we find ourselves in the car pulling into some street in a small village on
the outskirts of Birmingham.  BIRMINGHAM FFS! They all talk really funny,
worse than Manchester!  Well, maybe not that bad.

If you're wondering why we have to move all the time, it's cos our Mum died
when a drunk driver decided that the red light on the crossing wasn't for
him and knocked her over and killed her.  That was when I was 7.  I really
struggle to remember her now.  I am scared that I will forget her
completely, so I have lots of photos of her which I normally decorate one
of my bedroom walls with.  So whenever my dad gets a new big contract, it's
off we go as there is no-one to look after us if he has to stay away, so
it's easier to move where his latest job is.

We can't complain in one way cos he does earn a mint, and we have all the
latest games consoles, tvs, i-phones and i-pad2s.  Whatever we want, we
get.  Don't get me wrong, we're not spoiled brats.  Well, we are probably
spoiled compared to most, but we're not brats.  We both do well at school,
are always told that we are "pleasant young men" and always do seem to
attract friends, but for me it's getting harder to do that cos I think as a
younger kid, you will talk to anyone, whereas when you become a teenager,
the clicks have already formed and it's hard to break into an existing
group.

I've also become a bit more withdrawn in being forward than I used to be
because, for the last year or so, I've come to accept that my feelings for
boys and men are stronger than that for girls.  And that they don't look
like they are gonna change.  I've read loads on the internet on websites
about what being gay means and how it affects you and stuff like that, and
I guess, well no, I know that I am gay.

"So this is our new place?" Jack says as the car pulls up outside a big
house.

I look out the window, and can't help but be impressed.  A large front lawn
and driveway lead up to an imposing house front that consists of large
windows either side of a front door that has those Roman or Greek type
pillars each side.  It looked huge!  Dad had said that the new place was
larger than the last but this took the piss.  I took one look at Jack, and
as the car stopped, we both grabbed the door handles and bolted to check
out the new place.

"Slow down tigers!" Dad shouted after us as we reached the front steps and
nearly knocked over a middle aged lady, who turned out to be the agent from
the renting company.  Oh yeah, Dad never buys the house that we live in.
Cos we never stay in a place longer than eighteen months, he rents.  He
does own houses and apartments, but they're his "investment portfolio" or
something.  His retirement fund.

We apologise to Mrs Banks, as we are introduced to her, and she takes us on
a quick guide of the house.  Downstairs has a hallway with a door leading
to a loo, the kitchen which will only get used by me as Dad's idea of
cooking is tipping the waiter in a local restaurant.  I don't mind actually
cos I do like cooking and find it relaxing at times.  I love experimenting
with different herbs and spices and sauces and Jack is always a willing
guinea pig.  Another door leads to the lounge which already has our stuff
in it including my Dad's pride and joy, his 72" TV.

A dining room, again not likely to be used regularly and finally a smaller
room which has been converted to Dad's office, which is totally out of
bounds to both me and Jack.

A spiral staircase leads upstairs to the landing and five bedrooms, three
with ensuites, a full size family bathroom and various cupboards.  Dad
obviously has the master bedroom, both Jack and me decide on the two other
bedrooms that have ensuites.  Jack had decided on the one overlooking the
front, and I had picked the back facing bedroom, that has a bonus of having
a small balcony.  I'd already worked out it was south facing, so if I
wanted my privacy, I can lock myself away and enjoy the sun into the
evening, if it ever stops raining that is!!

Most of our stuff had already been unpacked and put in place by the moving
agents that my Dad uses.  They're actually pretty cool cos they do a
drawing of the new house, and we point out where we want stuff putting,
like our beds, computer desks, drawers and stuff.  The one thing I never
allow them to do though is my wall of photos.  That's too personal.  I run
back downstairs to the car and get my box out of the boot and hug them to
me as I walk back to my new room.  I know some people may think I'm a bit
nuts or something, but I talk to them as I go back to my room.  To me it's
like I'm talking to my Mum, telling her about the journey here, what the
house is like, and what my room is like.  I heard my Dad calling me from
downstairs so I put the box on my bed and went to see what he wanted.

"Andy, do me a favour and go to the shop and get the essentials will you,"
he asked.  "While you're out, have a look around to see what times the
restaurants are open."

He hands me his credit card.  Yeah I know his pin number for it, as this is
a regular thing.  It is generally me that does the food shopping, well, all
the shopping really for things like toilet paper, washing powder and
everything like that.  I don't know if this is what has made me gay, but at
times I do feel like I've taken Mum's role in the family.  Cooking,
shopping, it's normally me that does the washing and ironing, although Dad
does sometimes get a mobile ironing woman.  His suits are all dry clean so
there taken care off, but Jack's and my school uniforms have to be done.  I
don't mind really, cos it's all about family sticking together isn't it!
And if I am gay, and find myself a nice boyfriend, if I can take care of
him, then that's a big bonus point in my favour!!  I also want to go to
university when I am 18, so knowing how to do all this stuff means I know
I'll be able to cope on my own.

I ask Mrs Banks for directions to the village centre and am out the door,
wandering down the road, looking at the other big houses on the road.
Turning the corner, I cross the road by a roundabout, shaking my head in
disbelief as I see cars parked all around the roundabout.  Don't these
people know their highway code????  I see a small play area by what must be
the village green/park.  A few swings, a roundabout and some of those weird
things shaped like animals on springs that little kids sit on and then rock
back and forth on.  A big building overlooks it all and my assumptions of
it being the village hall are proved correct when I walk around it and see
the signs.

Oh, a library!  There's an up for a starting point.  Oh, it's shut!!  It's
open like 3 times a week!  And posters advertising that it has the
internet.  I'm having a sense of foreboding here.  Dad surely wouldn't have
moved us into the back of beyond with no internet??  How am I supposed to
watch porn without it??? Sorry did I say that?? I meant, how am I supposed
to research my homework.  Yes that's it.  Homework research.  That's what I
use my internet for!!! Honest guv!!

I see a small Tesco's express on the corner of the Main Street.  Um, if
this is Main Street, it's not very big!  There's a bar come restaurant
opposite it.  I decide to have a walk up the street to see what else is
there.  I have to say, I like the buildings.  It has a very Mediterranean
feel to the centre.  I walk past an Italian restaurant, followed by Indian
and a Chinese before seeing another bar restaurant at the end of the road.
A wine shop, card shop and half a dozen hairdressers and beauty shops.  Oh
and a coffee shop.  I think my original thoughts of back of beyond are
coming true!!

I slowly walk back down towards Tesco's, ignoring the loud chatter from the
bar where there are loads of people sat outside in the sun, drinking,
talking and enjoying themselves.  I pause by the electric door at the front
of the shop to allow three little kids to come running out, nearly wiping
out an old guy as he walked past.  I asked him if he was okay, as he seemed
a little shook up, and after receiving an assurance he was, I turned and
went in and grabbed a basket.

The essentials Dad said.  Milk, bread, juice, eggs, bacon, sausage, sod it
they have donuts on offer 55p for a bag of 5, toilet paper, bin bags,
butter, peanut butter, chocolate digestives, a jar of coffee and a pack of
tea bags.  Oh look, they sell carte dor ice cream! that goes in! Aunt
Bessie's frozen mash potato, hey I hate making it from scratch and this is
easy, peas, sweetcorn, a couple of packs of chicken breasts and OMG a full
spice rack and a load of different sauces!!  Calm down Andy, you're outing
yourself here!

I get in the queue for the till, and notice two attractive girls behind the
counter.  Hey just cos I'm gay doesn't mean I can't appreciate them!  They
are obviously sisters, and I'd even say they were twins.  They were very
chatty with every customer and as I took my turn, Gina, the thinner of the
two, smiled at me.

"How are you today sweetie?" she asked.  Urgh! Sweetie!!  "I'm fine thanks,
you?" I reply, deciding to flash her one of my killer smiles.  Oh yeah, my
smile.  I am proud enough to say that I have never had a filling, I have
nice bright white teeth and know how to use them.  I even have a couple of
little dimples in my cheeks that appear when I smile a certain way.  I get
the reaction I expect and her smile turns from that of the customer service
type, to a genuine one.  "I've not seen you in here before honey," she
says, as she starts scanning and bagging the shopping.  "Just got here,
we've moved today." I answered.  A brief conversation about the family
followed and by the time I picked the bags up, I felt like I had made a
friend, even if it was a girl in her mid-20s!!

I wandered back out of the shop and nearly got run down by the same three
kids that ran into the old man earlier.  I scowled at them and they got the
message that they had pissed me off.  One of them muttered a half apology
before they turned and ran across the road, without looking, and headed to
the park.  With a sigh, I picked up the bag I had dropped, and headed back
towards the park myself.

I paused to cross the road, doing the correct thing and looked both ways
and my eyes got drawn to a table outside the bar, which was called Lawtons.
There were several people sat around it.  A couple of woman, a girl and a
boy who both looked like they were nine or ten, and three men.  There were
obviously two couples and a single man, and boy did they all look like they
belonged in a catalogue or something.  One of the men, a dark haired guy
who looked like he was in his early thirties, glanced up and we made eye
contact.  A shock ran through me, and I felt myself blush under his gaze.
I forced myself to break the stare, before I made it obvious, and crossed
the road and put my head down and walked in the direction of the house.  I
risked a look backwards, and he had gone back to talking to the other men,
but then looked back in my direction.  I turned and picked up my pace to
get away.

I got home, yelled to let my Dad I was back and made my way to the kitchen
to put everything away.  Once I had done, I grabbed a glass and filled it
with water.  I grabbed some ice from the freezer to help cool it down and
took a long drink.  I headed back upstairs to hear my Dad and Jack going at
it.

Now get your dirty minds out of the gutter.  God, just cos I'm gay, you
think we all have sex with each other?? No way man!  What I meant was that
Jack had managed to empty his toys all over his bedroom floor, and Dad was
telling him to tidy up.  Voices raised as only a father son argument can
be!  I left them to it, and sat on my bed, looking at my room.  It was a
simple rectangular shape.  My double bed was against one of the smaller
walls, which I decided would be decorated with pictures of my beloved
Leicester Tigers.  For those not in the know, they are like THE best rugby
union side in the world, well maybe Europe, well maybe England, god okay
they lost the Premiership final last year, so the best in the midlands! God
you're so bloody picky!!  My three favourite players had their own large
posters.  The iconic hairy Italian prop, Martin Castrogiavani, the
extremely good looking England fly half Toby Flood, and the very muscular
chiselled form of Manu Tuilagi.  These were positioned around the latest
squad poster.  I really ought to have these on the ceiling so I can gaze up
at them when I'm in bed, but I guess when I'm turned on my front, humping
my pillow, gazing up at them, ah man!!!

I could hear my Dad still yelling at Jack to pick stuff up so I quietly got
up and close my bedroom door.  The one rule that is NEVER broken in our
family is that if a door is shut, permission has to be obtained before
opening.  I flicked on the power to my ipod and the docking station and
quickly selected one of my favourite bands, Kasabian, and put the random
feature on and as the rock music began to blare through my speakers, I shed
my shirt and chucked it onto the easy chair.  I jumped onto my bed and
layed on my back.  My hands travelled over my chest and I paused to rub my
nipples, something that I had discovered I liked a lot.  I grabbed an ice
cube out of my glass and traced it around my left nip, before doing the
same to the right.  I groaned in pleasure as my chest shuddered with the
coldness.  I traced it downwards, tensing my stomach so my slight six pack
that I was proud of came to play and I ran the ice around my abs.

Shivering with delight, I plopped the nearly melted cube into my mouth,
sucking my fingers in with it to warm them back up.  My left hand rubbed
across the front of my shorts, causing my nether regions to react and wake
up.  I gazed up at the face of Manu, and my right hand joined the fun.  I
fumbled with my belt bucked and tore my eyes of the Samoan-born face to
concentrate on getting out of my shorts.  I lifted my butt off the bed so
that I could kick them off and they fell to the floor with a thud.  SHIT!
My I-phone!!  It better not be smashed.

I decided to find out later as I grabbed at my crotch again, rubbing myself
through my CK briefs.  Yup I'm a briefs man mainly.  When you play
football, or rugby, you don't want your bits wobbling around when you're
running, and especially if you're playing rugby, you want them out of the
way in case someone tries to grab them.  Yeah that may sound nice, but
believe me, they aren't looking to fondle, they're looking to inflict pain.
Been there, done that.  I moaned as I massaged my growing cock through the
cotton material with one hand, and the other cupped and tugged at my balls,
that seemed to be growing every day.

Foreplay over, I pulled them off and lay on the bed in all my glory.  I
looked across the room and into the mirror opposite my bed.  I deliberately
had it put there cos I do like watching myself jerk off.  Ok so maybe I'm a
little vain, but I know I'm good looking, I know I have a fit body, and I
know that my 6 inch cock at the age of 14 is impressive!  I spit into my
hand, making a mental note that I need to get some type of lube next time I
go shopping. Oh man, what if it's Gina serving me????  But I digress!  I
return my spit-covered hand back to my now hard cock and begin the pull of
pleasure that all boys have learned to love over the course of human
history.  I grasped my shaft at the top and put pressure on it as I slide
my foreskin down exposing my cockhead.

My eyes sought out the cute face of Toby again as I quickened my strokes,
and I pretended to be gazing into his dark, furrowed eyes for real.  I
slipped my index finger of my left hand into my mouth and sucked on it,
sliding it in and out and I felt the familiar stirrings of the beginning of
joy.  I slowed my strokes so that I could try to extend my pleasure.  Sweat
began to pool in my belly button and it trickled down my forehead.  I
needed release so I resumed a faster pace and just as I began to feel my
toes want to start curling in the expectation of the rush I was soon to
experience, I took my spit covered finger, moved my hand underneath me and
pushed it through my protesting ring and firmly planted it inside my chute.

The feeling of my boy tunnel being invaded pushed me over the edge and the
first spurt of my baby makers erupted, hitting my neck and shoulders.  I
let a groan escape my lips as my second and third shots coated my hairless
tanned chest.  I slowed my pumping as the fourth shot barely made it out of
my slit and my body flopped into a state of exhausted joy.

I lay, listening to Fire, swirling my cum on my chest, lifting my finger to
my mouth occasionally to feast on my balls offerings.  I could feel my
eyelids begin to sag and I succumbed to the land of nod.


To be continued??

This is my first attempt at writing.  Hope you enjoyed it. Andy.

All comments, reviews and suggestions would be greatly welcomed at
email_andy@rocketmail.com

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