FIRST LOVE
----------

The early days of my adolescence were a mess. I tried to prove how tough I was
in spite of the fact I was a skinny kid who hated to fight. My mother drank a
lot and we would fight when she did. Although just 13, I tried to prove myself
among the older kids at the hand ball court, but I guess I was more someone
they could beat easily. I was looked on with the same general disdain as
Brennan, an eleven year old kid who enticed me with his freckles and easy
manner .We were both considered to be little kids, I guess. I started hanging
around him when I wasn't ghetting my skrawny ass dragged around the court. He
soon took a place in my nightly fantasies with my friend John, whom I had moved
away from.  I would think about John commanding us both to do his sexual
bidding, Brennan and I submitting to his filthy demands. Quite a bit of time
went by while I was stuck with my solo sex life.
There were a lot of men at the courts who basically ignored us. It was hard to
get into the rotation for a court so a lot of the time spent at the court was
spent waiting. There was one man who would talk to us and who spent time trying
to instruct us on the finer points of hand ball. When I would get on court with
him, he would spend time showing me the proper stances, correct form and how to
hit the ball effectively. I would thrill when he would bend over me to position
me correctly, holding me against his front while arranging my body in the
correct position. I would smell his sweat and its perfume would often cause me
to spring a bonar.  His name was Kevin. He had a firm body and was quiet most
of the time. He was a fireman. In SF the firemen in those days had a 48 hour
shift on and the rest of the time off, so he would be at the courts three or
four days a week.
Once school began, I would spend afternoons there hoping he would come around
and teach me.  My father had left when I was 8 but he had beeen around so
little prior to that time that I didn't miss him when he did leave. But Kevin
seemed to awaken a need I had, a need for a man. I began to lose interest in
the older boys at the courts and pay almost exclusive attention to Kevin and
Brennan. John, too, faded from my fantasies and replaced by Brennan. I was
sure, though, that I was just some punk kid to him whose existence was hardly
important.
One Saturday I was in a particularly pissy mood after I had had a fight with my
mother. I yelled at the other kids, fucked up badly in my game and got into a
fight with Brennan's older brother, a 16 year old with no neck or brains. He
did a lot of pushing and I did a lot of falling down. I was no match and
fortunately for me, he didn't throw a real punch. I stormed out of the courts
in humilation after he had finished and went over to the smack bar to drown my
sorrow and humiliation in an RC cola. While I stood sulkily sucking on the
bottle (I'm old enough where in those days, they still sold sodas in bottles at
those places) I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Kevin. He had come out to
see how I was feeling after the brief trouble. He had come out specially, he
said and not only that, he called me by name. "Want a hot dog, Billy?" were
probably the sweetest words I'd heard in many months. He liked me and it
showed. I hoped that my feelings for him weren't too obvious at that time for
the erection in my pants was dripping precum into my underwear. I accepted the
offer and while eating the hot dog, I wondered what his looked like.
After I'd finished, he talked to me seriously. He told me that he'd been
watching me for several weeks and that he thought I was trying to be a tough
kid when in fact I wasn't one; I was, in his words, a "nice, gentle boy who
should try to stay that way and be good to people." He asked about my home life
and I told him about my mother and me and my father. He smiled, said that he
had a late shift but he would see me in a couple of days.
That night was a night spent in heaven for me. I didn't masturbate. I didn't
fantasize about sex. I thought about Kevin's sweaty smell, his muscular arms
and he gentle pat on the leg he gave me as he left to go to work. I cried
thinking about him, tears which were both joyous for knowing him and sad for my
thinking that I could never mean as much to him as he did to me.
It was, I guess, gay "puppy love." As it turned out, Kevin was far more
interested in my welfare than I could have hoped. He took a special interest in
me. I thought it was because, as a fireman he thought that I should be "macho"
but was in spite of my wishes, something of a wimp. In any event, he took me to
basketball games, to the fire house, out to play ball. He would also take me
places like the park and the aquarium and museums. In those early days with
him, I never got the feeling that he was trying to change me, to make me into a
man. I suppose that is why I developed such a deep love for him. By his actions
more than words he let me know that he cared for me, too.
Late October, my mother had been working extra hard at work and was in a
miserable mood. It was her day off, Friday and when I came home from school, I
knew that she had been drinking because the windows were wide open and the
stereo was playing so loudly that I could hear it half way down the block. I
did my best to stay out of her way but wasn't successful. By the time I had
dinner ready, she was tearing into me for a number of things I'd done wrong. I
yelled back, she slapped me and a real battle insued. She called me any number
of names, most often her favorite ones which taunted me for being a sissy and
for masturbating so much. (Masturbation seemed to be the most disgusting sin in
her cosmology.) Of course, I denied ever doing it. The fight ended around eight
at night when she dumped a jar of Hershey's chocloate sauce over my head and
told me to get out of the house.
I barely had had a chance to wipe the chocolate from my face when she pushed me
down the steps of our flat. My hair was still covered in the syrup and my eyes
stung with tears.
I walked around the park for an hour or so and ended up near Sunset Avenue
without realizing where I had walked. Sunset was near Kevin's apartment
building. I'd been there often on our excursions together. I must have
navigated by emotion and love. IU prayed that he wasn't on duty that night
because I knew that I couldn't go home, at least not until the next day when my
mother would be back at work.
I rang Kevin's bell in the front of the building and waited for about a minute
for an answer that didn't come. I rang again, this time leaning on the bell,
crying while I begged god for him to be home. A sleepy voice came over the
intercom, asking "who the hell was there?" I told Kevin who it was and that I
had to see him right away.
He buzzed me in without another word.
He was shocked when he saw me, I could tell, but didn't say much. He pulled me
to his chest and hugged me tightly to him while I bawled. I got chocolate sauce
all over his robe, but it diodn't seem to bother him in the least. He explained
that he was off duty for four days but had been at a fire quite late that
morning so that was why he had been asleep. He wanted me to talk about things
after I bathed.
BATHED. My heart leapt at the prospect. Maybe I could get him to... My mind
raced as he lead me to the bathroom and ran the bath. When it was full, he
pointed to the shower and told me to get the bulk of the crap out of my hair.
When I got out of the shower I got into the tub and began soaking, my eyes
closed and my mind forming a scenario where Kevin would come into the room and
join me in the tub and then we would begin a night of splendid, sexual passion.
I got hard at the fantasy and then there came a knock on the door. I pulled a
wash cloth over my erection and told Kevin to come in.
He smiled sweetly at me, humg some pj's on the back of the bathroom door and
put a tray of food on the edge of the tub. Now was my chance. If I showed him
my hardon he would know what I wanted.
I wimped out, and he left. How I ached for him and hated him at that moment for
not taking the lead in my seduction. I spent the rest of the evening on the
knife edge typical of adolescence between the sheer joy of being near this man
and the frustration of not being near enough. He had a spare pull down bed in
the living room which he made for me. At about 11 we went to bed. I lay on my
back playing gently with my penis until it was standing straight up in the air,
making a little tent of the sheets and blanket of the bed. I could hear Kevin's
even breathing in the other room. He was asleep, I was sure. I got out of my
bed and went into his room and without a second thought, slid into bed with
him. I put my arm around his shoulder as I cuddled as tightly against as I
could. In spite of my fear, I was shaking badly at that moment, my cock
maintained its hardness and was poking at his rear end. Kevin was nude. And not
asleep.
"Is this what you want?" he whispered. He knew what I wanted more than I did.
He rolled over and put his arm around me, pulling as close to him as possible.
His hard penis jabbed at my belly as he began kissing my forehead, then he
pulled me up so that our mouths met. It was the first real, romanic kiss of my
life, no tongue at first, just moist, sensuous lips against mine.
"Don't be afraid, babe," he said. Even though I badly wanted what was about to
happen, I was afraid, not of what he would do, or what I wanted, but of myself
and where this adventure might lead me.
His hand sought the secret place between my legs as his tongue gently
insinuated itself into my mouth. For all the times that I had fooled around
with my young friend, John, I had never felt the intense passion that was
engulfing me at that moment. I wanted Kevin to take me completely. My cock was
full, erect and close to its maximum tension as he tickled it. By that age my
cock was beginning to strecth to more adult proportions although it still
wasn't very big. A few straight, dark hair graced its base. For the first time
in my life, though, it felt to me like I had a real man's cock.
"Soon," I moaned as he stroked my penis. That was the only signal he needed. He
slid beneath the sheets and slipped my hard-on into his mouth, taking it all
the way in with one loud, sloppy slurp. I barely reached the back of his
tongue, I know, but compared to John's dabbling at fellation, Kevin was deep
throating me. Two or three swallows and their accompanying pressure on my dick
were all that were needed to bring about my violently thrusting, loudly yelled,
orgasm. It felt like Kevin was sucking my guts, my sex and my whole being
through the tiny piss slit at the end of my cock. It has been said that there
is never an orgasm as intense or as special as ones first. If not as good as my
first, this was at least very, very close to as intense, and it was wqithout a
doubt my most memorable. A man who I loved was swallowing my boy jiz with
obvious pleasure.
When I had finished cumming and my penis was beginning to crinkle with the
sensitivity that came after my orgasms, Kevin wriggled up to face nme once
again. He hugged me and then deep tongued me. His mouth had a slight but
familiar taste to it: my semen.
"Don't ever worry, Billy," he said, "I will always love you and you will always
have a place to stay here if you need it." I laid my head against his shoulder
and closed my eyes, the tears running down my cheeks were sweet tears, tears of
joy and tears of belonging. I fell asleep before I could satisfy my man. But
then there would enough time for that when morning came and for all the other
times we would share our love for each other.
I had fallen asleep in the arms of the man I loved, though at that time I would
probably have shuddered at the use of the word. Secretly, I wanted to declare
my love for him as clearly as he had done for me a few minutes earlier. I
wasn't ready to be so honest. My hand drifted to my crotch as if moving
entirely on its own volition, finding my flaccid, shrunken penis. It was tender
feeling, but it also felt more satisfied from Kevin's sucking. I drifted off to
sleep, happy, satisfied and more than a little confused.
At thirteen years of age I would normally sleep the night through but this was
no ordinary evening. I had slept about two hours when I awoke suddenly. I was
no longer snuggled against Kevin's warm, slightly hairy body; instead, I was
sprawled across the otherwise empty bed. Kevin was gone! I sat up and looked
around. A light from down the hallway told me that Kevin was probably in his
kitchen. I swung out of bed, slipped on a pair of Kevin's over large slippers
and padded down the hallway. Other than the slippers, I wore only the man's
undershirt which hung down to my crotch, just dusting the top of prick. Oops.
Hard again.
Kevin was sitting on a bench at the small table in the corner of the kitchen.
He was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the makings of which remained
in their jars on the table.
"Still up, I see," Kevin said to me as I entered, looking at my crotch. I
glanced down and must have smiled when I looked back at him because he
commented that I had a cute smile. I didn't know that. I sat on the breakfast
nook bench beside him. He was wearing a bathrobe and from the looks of it
nothing underneath. He put an arm around my shoulder, pulled me closer to him
and asked me how I was feeling. I can remember that my answer was a silent
wriggle which set my upstanding cocklet to swinging. He explained to me that
prior to that time he had confined his play with boys to older boys, mostly 17
and 18 year olds. I was, it turned out, the youngest kid with whom he had ever
played sexually. The next several minutes were spent in our beginning to sort
out some pretty complicated feelings. I assured him that I wanted everything
that he had done, indeed, I wanted much more. I told him about some of the
things I'd done with my friend John and admitted that more than anything, I
wanted a man's cock slipped up my ass hole.
All the while we were talking, I was sampling the peanut butter and jelly with
my fingers. At this final pronouncement, I reached beneath Kevin's robe and
grasped his cock. To my young hand it felt huge. It was indeed very hard. I
pulled it out from beneath the robe and let a blob of grape jelly fall on its
shaft. Without a thought, I bent over and licked the purple sweetness off the
rigid organ. Kevin shuddered, then lifted me off the bench and carried me back
to his bed. Dropping back onto the sheets of the bed, he bent down and took my
cock in his mouth. As horny as I felt, I was determined not to shoot off again
in his mouth. I wanted much more that evening.
Taking a page from the book of boy sex that John and I had written several
months earlier, I pivoted around so that Kevin's dick was sticking out into my
face. It was drooling from the red slit. I was drooling from anticipation.
Before this time I had only tasted the sweet, little acorn tips of boys' cocks.
With a passion borne of years of paternal deprivation, I plunged down on
Kevin's cock. Immediately I gagged from its hugeness. I thought I was going to
barf but let the feeling subside. I used the rhythm that I had used
successfully with my young friend John. Unlike with John, though, I could only
get about half of Kevin's seven inches in my mouth. He didn't seem to mind.
I was in a dilemma. I wanted to bring my lover-man to an orgasm with my mouth.
I wanted to swallow his prick, his balls, his cum, his whole being if I could.
But my asshole itched. Literally. I knew what the itch signified. I wanted
something in it: something hard but soft, something firm and long and round. I
wanted Kevin to fuck me like John had done before. I didn't know if I could
take his mancock as I'd been able to take the thin boy cock of my erstwhile
lover months earlier. All the while this was going on, Kevin was sucking on my
own boy pipe, bringing it to a hardness it hadn't known before. He was also
stroking the round orbs of my ass, rubbing his hands in ever tightentening
circles until they finally reached the center of my passion. Without warning
Kevin pushed a finger into the tight pucker of my asshole, stabbing at the
enlarged prostate.
Immediately I began squirting the small amount of semen still in my seminal
vessicals into the man's warm mouth. The splash of my jiz was the signal for
him to thrust his hips toward my mouth and fuck my lips with a loving violence.
As I was finishing my orgasm, Kevin began his, spewing what seemed like an
endless supply of jizzum into my throat.
I gagged; I retched; I swallowed. Sticky spit diluted cum drooled from my mouth
as I gasped and swallowed more. Kevin's spunk was bitter and salty, much
different from John's fresh boy cream, different and for my young palate,
better.
I was breathless from the exertion I'd made and my pecker was softening
quickly. In those days my penis had two basic states: soft and hard with very
little in between. John's and Brennan's were much the same. Kevin's penis, the
fully grown organ of a man, though, was lying by my face in that wonderful
state called tumescence: full, firm and substantial but no longer skin
stretchingly hard. I played with this miracle of human anatomy gently. Kevin
moaned, and his dick responded by jerking and assuming that state of angry
hardness it had lost just a few minutes earlier.
Kevin's cock was ready for more play. My little, shrunken dickie was all but
hiding in my belly. It wasn't ready to come out and play, but I sure as hell
was. My asshole which had recently been tickled by Kevin's probing finger
itched for more. I gave the man's cock a quick lick along its shaft and then
scuttled onto my knees, my buttocks waving in the air for Kevin's attention. I
lost all inhibitions in the dim light of the man's bedroom.
"Fuck me, Kev," I called over my shoulder.
Kevin was beside me on his knees at that point, massaging my ass with one hand.
"I can't do that, Billy," he whispered in my ear. "You aren't ready for it yet.
I'd hurt you."
"John did it a lot. And he was pretty big."
"As big as me?"
I looked at the engine jutting out from Kevin's belly. Yes, I had to admit that
it was pretty large, certainly much larger than John's developing boycock which
I hadn't had in me for over three months anyway and larger, even, than the hot
dogs which I frequently used as props for my solo sexual adventures. Kevin
didn't wait for a response on my part. He rolled me onto my back and slid on
top of me. His hard on was a tree growing up between our bellies.
"I will fuck you, Billy, but I'll do it so that it won't hurt you. If you
really want to take me up your rear, we'll work on getting you used to it
slowly. Okay?" Kevin's mouth was so close to my face that the breath from his
words blew my sandy blond hair around. He repositioned himself so that his body
was arched over mine, his erection dangled from its weight and pointed straight
downward. He spit into his hand and had me do the same and then applied the
sputum to the shaft of his prick. Then slowly, deliberately, lovingly he
lowered himself so that his prick forced its way between my legs where they
joined my abdomen. His hardness scraped and pulled at my scrotum and then his
body was pressing its full weight against my own flaccid pricklet. Slowly he
rose up, pulling his prick out of the groove between my legs and then fell back
down on me again, this time just a bit harder than before. His cockhead tore at
my balls. I felt a most delicious ticklish sensation where he was rubbing
between my legs. Soon he settled into a steady motion, thrusting in and out. My
own cock filled with blood as he fucked me this way and was soon trying to
stand up against the pressure of his belly. The motion of his body rubbed it to
the rhythm of his own's cock's thrusting.
Kevin shuddered and fell hard against me. I could feel the warm, sticky
dampness spread between my legs as he plunged his mouth over mine and sucked my
tongue into his mouth. The kiss brought a sharp jolt to my cock and balls. It
began jerking in dry imitation of what Kevin's penis was doing between my legs.
When he had finished he fell full against my body. I could smell the strong,
skunky odor of his sweat. I wanted to roll in it, to cover myself in his stench
and sex and cum and mark myself as his boy and his boy alone. I was no longer
afraid of the word which had scared me earlier that evening.
"I love you, Kevin," I whispered into his panting face. "Will you be my ..."
That one last word I couldn't bring myself to say. Not yet. Not for several
more years.

I suppose that some peole might have said that my mother was abusive toward me
in my early adolescence. I no longer feel that way, though. She was trying to
raise her son by herslef with little financial and no emotional support from
the man who was my father but who had abandoned me when I was barely eight. In
those first eight years of my life, I don't think he was with the family for
more than two years total. The problems of raising a teenage son are hard
enough without a single mother having to do it by herself. And I didn't help
things any by being so extremely confused by my awakeneing bisexuality.
In any event my mother realized that my friendship with Kevin was very
important to me and didn't try to interfere with it, not even that fateful
weekend when we had what was our worst fight ever. That was the weekend when I
stormed out of the house, chocolate sauce dripping from my hair from her angry
attack and sought out my fireman friend, Kevin, the man who had assumed the
unofficial role of a Big Brother. That was the weekend when...but let me
continue where I left off.
Once I got to sleep in the early morning hours I slept soundly and dreamlessly
for most of the night. I may have dreamt about the gentle sucking Kevin had
given my penis and the intense orgasm that sucking had brought about. Or I may
have dreamt how later in the evening he had made love to me between my legs,
spattering his sticky manliness on my inner thighs and against my hairless ball
sack. I may have dreamt, but I didn't remember doing so when I awoke with two
strong, encompassing feelings. The first of these feelings was a warmth and
satisfaction with my life as I had never felt previously. The second was an
intense, overwhelming need to piss and the accompanying horniness that always
attended my piss hard-ons.
I lay in bed for a few minutes on my side, my body insinuated in the bends and
curves of Kevin's body. He was awake, waiting for my awakening I believe,
because his hand was gently stroking my erection. As I stirred, he leaned over
my body and kissed me on the cheek. The kiss was a thrill. More thrilling was
the pressure of his own hard cock into my ass crack.
"Good morning, sleepy head," he told me. I twisted my head and kissed him back
and pushed my rear end back to increase the pressure of his cock against my
asshole.
"Do you want to put it in me?" I asked.
"I'd love to, Billy, but you're too young and too small."
I complained that at thirteen I was anything but too young and that my friend
John had, as I put it, fucked me up my asshole many times. I hoped that the
bluntness of my language would convince Kevin to give me what I yearned for so
badly. He still refused but not completely. He needed to see if I could
accomodate him even though he wasn't that big (he said - his peg was bigger
than John's by a good three inches in length and was a handful to hold. It
scared me to think of him burying it in my ass. I knew it would hurt
tremendously. But I wanted my man!)
Kevin continued to stroke me.  While we lay in bed cuddling together, I asked
him if he ever jacked off. He laughed and said that since meeting me he had
severely cut back on his social life in order to be with me and to take me
places so that masturbation had become the sole means of his sexual release.
That was until the night before. I told him I was glad that he did beat off; I
was worried that my doing it so much was a sign that there was something wrong
with me. There ensued a discussion with demonstration of our various means of
masturbation. Because my penis still wasn't very big at that time I showed him
how I brought myself off by pressing the underside of my cock with the first
two fingers of both hands. The advantage, I told him, was that it was a quiet
way to do it, and therefore my mother couldn't hear me when I did it. He showed
me his full hand stroking style, his favorite, and recommended that I try using
a similar way with two fingers formed into a ring. He must have demonstarted
ten different ways of beating off on both of us that morning, keeping both of
our cocks rock hard.
The discussion about jack-off techniques led into a discussion of my other
experiences. I didn't tell him about Brennan, maybe because I wanted to protect
the boy's reputation but more likely because I was afraid that if Kevin knew we
were playing around at that time, he might prefer the sexy red-headed eleven
year old to me. I lacked confidence in myself during those times and didn't
understand the depth of Kevin's feelings for me. I did talk fairly openly about
John and what we had done together. I was reluctant to say much at first,
afraid that Kevin might think less of me for the kinkiness of our games, so I
began by describing our simple masturbatory games. As I spoke Kevin's comments
and responses clearly told me that he approved of what we had done so I became
more honest as I continued opening up to him.
I talked fairly freely about John's and my piss games [detailed in the story
"Wet.TXT"] with each other. I even told Kevin about my loving to have John put
his small but developing boy cock in my rectum and fuck me until he came and
then, once finished, pissing inside me. I let it all come out: our pissing on
each other, drinking each others urine direct from the spout, the enemas I
loved to get and to give, my fascination with having things inside me. Kevin
admitted that he, too, had done many of the same things with friends when he
was not much older than I had been and that he still did them when he could. I
felt much better about my weirdness at this point.
All the while we were talking, Kevin was stroking my cock and balls, tickling
my ass crack and ass hole , licking my face and kissing my lips. And all the
while my bladder was getting fuller, causing me the delicious discomfort that I
have loved since I was a wee tiny boy. When I had finished, Kevin rolled me
onto my belly. He reached beneath me and arranged my penis so that it was being
pressed firmly between my abdomen and the mattress of his bed. I closed my eyes
as he began stroking my ass cheeks. Next I felt something cool and oily
touching the very top of my crack and seeping down between my cheeks. 'Maybe
now,' I thought.
"I know what you're thinking, Babe," Kevin told me, "but not now. There is a
lot of time for us to do things together and I want to make sure hat you're
ready for me when I do fuck you for real." He then lay on top of me and slid
his erection between my cheeks and unhurredly, smoothly pushed his hardness
down the slippery crack and between my legs. The tip stabbed at my balls at the
deepest part of his penetration. I had no idea before that moment that the
outside of my ass could be so sensitive, could bring me so much pleasure. Kevin
slipped one hand beneath me and began to tickle my prick. I was no longer hard
but rather was in the state of tumescence which has always been my most erotic
state of stimulation. When I am like that, my penis prickles. I was drifting
off to a light slumber as my lover continued to make love to me, increasing his
pace slowly, steadily.
Dream state: drifting, floating in the warmth of being loved, deep red
unconscious touch, the rumpled sheets which our loving had rumpled, a man to
walk with me through the park through the hard years of my life hardness
pressing against my intimacy friction, hardness, warmth growing to heat
fullness increased by pressure speed and desire and love and the rasping
scraping of a huge yearning to be entered golden light, warm, wetness between
my legs golden flooding beneath my belly, against the sheet
"Oh, god," I cried as Kevin finished cumming between the cheeks of my ass, "I
wet the bed."
Kevin gasped out a laugh. "That's okay, Billy. It was my fault for keeping you
in bed so long and pressing your bladder so hard from both sides. What's a
little piss between friends." It was then that I realized that he still had his
hand on my cock and had been squeezing it while I was flooding the bed.
After a few minutes in languid recovery, Kevin announced that he needed to go
to the bathroom, or he would wet the bed. He said this in such a way that I
knew that he enjoyed what had happened in bed and that he wanted my
participation in the bathroom. Kevin's dick was limp as he walked to the
bathroom but still close to full size and somewhat firm. It was oily and
dripped the last strands of cum. I had not had an orgasm yet, although the
pissing in bed in the half dream state I had been in was as powerful as one, so
my cock was back to its nearly continuous state of erection.
Once at the toilet Kevin did not say anything but I sensed what he wanted me to
do.
"Can I play fireman?" I asked, aware of the irony of my question since Kevin
was, in fact, a fireman. I didn't wait for an answer but grabbed his fire hose
and knelt beside him at the toilet. His bladder must have been very full
because he began pissing not with the tentative first dribbles that
characterized how I began, but with a full and powerful stream that I managed
to splash against the back of the toilet seat and onto the floor.
"Sorry," I said sheepishly as I driected the stream into the bowl.
"Don't worry, kid. Like I said, what's a little piss anmong friends."
I squeezed his flow off and then relaxed to let him piss a little more, then
squeezed it off again. I did this several times until when I finally relaxed
and he didn't piss anymore.
"Finished already?" I asked, disappointed. Kevin just laughed and shock his
head. There was a large, deep amber drop of urine at the tip of the piss slit.
I licked it off. Kevin lifted me up and directed my motion toward the bath tub.
After our discussion that morning, I sensed what was going to happen.
We climbed into the tub and at the man's direction, I sat down. Kevin squatted
in front of me, his prick directed at my head.
"Stop me at any time you want, Billy."
I was staring at the large, red tip of my lover's penis and the redder tissue
of the piss slit as he strained to begin the flow once again. The first
splashes hit my chest, then he elevated his prick so that the next few splashed
against my hair. I was squinting so that I wouldn't get any piss in my eyes (I
had had that happen enough with John to know I didn't like it.) Without being
told I opened my mouth and Kevin moved closer. The stream of urine hit my
tongue and splashed out of my mouth down my chin. I lifted my head slightly so
that I could swallow the piss. Kevin moved closer so that soon he had the very
tip of his prick lying on my tongue. He had been squeezing his dick so that the
flow wasn't too fast for me to take or wouldn't choke me. I felt like I must
have swallowed at least a cup of his warm, salty piss when he stopped the flow
and pulled his prick out of my mouth.
Kevin told me, "Lie down, now, and rub your cock like I showed you this
morning." I held my hard-on in a two finger ring and began stroking it. Enough
piss had fallen on it that it was moist. Kevin knelt between my legs and lifted
by tightened ball sac up. A hard stream of piss hit the underside of my balls,
then another and another. I rubbed faster as Kevin continued to spatter me
there with little spurts of piss. As my cock dried out, he would spit onto the
tip or lean over and take the tip in his mouth to get it wet.
I had held off cumming for so long that morning that I did not have to wait too
long before I shivered with the first spasm of an orgasm and a wad of cum shot
from my cock and hit me on the face. As soon as the orgasm began, Kevin let go
of the grip of his penis and let the urine spray out unabated. It hit my balls
and cock and splatterd with the gouts of semen I was spurting, hitting my face
and my mouth. I tried to shoot into my mouth, something I could do if I
concentrated, and succeded, getting several wads of jizzum on my tongue, to
have Kevin's piss wash them down my throat. He fininshed pissing while I was
still cumming so that my last few spurts landed unaccompanied on my chest.
Quickly, Kevin lapped them up, tasting, I am sure, the semen and his own urine.
When he had finished, he lay down on top of me .
I laughed as I lay in the cooling puddle, Kevin's body pressing heavily against
mine. Eventually I would get what I desired so much from Kevin; I just had to
be patient. Soon, I knew, I would have his hardness, his passion, his semen
inside me. Eventually, I hoped, he would be my father.

Saturday morning, and I was feeling as if my life were taking a shrap turn on a
dusty, country road. In a period of less than twenty-four hours I had become
lovers with a man more than twice my thirteen years. In that time I had been my
fireman lover had sucked me, been sucked by me, fucked me between my legs and
pissed on me and in my mouth. It was a dream, I was sure, but a dream that I
never wanted to awaken from.
Kevin took the first steps toward awakening me by sliding off of my body in the
empty bath tub and hosing off the piss he had sprayed over my young body that
morning. As he dried me off he kissed me on the lips, his tongue delving into
my mouth, and then kissed me on the tip of my shrunken, sensitive penis. I
shuddered when, while drying off my back, he kissed my anus and let his tongue
play at the tight hole for the briefest of moments.
After we had dressed, Kevin called my mother to make sure that I could stay
over with him for the rest of the weekend. My spirits sank while I listened to
the one sided telephone conversation. It sounded from Kevin's discussion as if
my mother wanted me home immediately. Eventually, though, he was able to
convince my mother to let me stay with him until Sunday night and even got her
to agree to let me stay with him when, as he put it to her, the going got tough
at home.
The day was a typical October day in San Francisco, warm, clear and beautiful.
Kevin drove me out to PlayLand at the Beach and we spent the better part of the
day fooling around together on the rides. I wonder what other people thought of
us. Kevin was barely old enough to be my father and probably too old to be my
brother. Part of me wanted everyone to know that this man was my lover, had
spattered me with his sperm that morning and had washed his semen down my
throat with his piss. Then again, another part of me wanted to keep what had
happened totally secret.
It was about three o'clock that afternoon when we were ready to leave PlayLand.
I asked KEvin if he wanted to visit my personal PlayLand. We drove to the lower
end of Golden Gate Park and then hiked up the hill behind the horse shoe
courts. This was an area I had played in for three years, games like hide and
seek, capture the flag and suck the friend. My French Canadian friend, John,
and I had found some areas where we could play our simpler piss games and I had
even been able to give him blow jobs while I jacked off.
Kevin and I settled on the mat of leaves under the trees and he started talking
to me about his feelings for me. As much as I loved the man, I wasn't sure that
I wanted to hear what he was going to say. No, I was afraid that what was about
to be said was that he liked me, that I was a nice kid. I didn't want him to
dismiss me so easily but I wasn't able to speak a word as he talked. After a
long discussion about other boys he had known and had sex with, all of them
older and, I was sure, more masculine than I, he got down to the basics.
"Billy," he said with a sharp intake of breath ('Oh, god,' I thought, 'here it
comes.') "I don't think you have any idea how much I love you. (My mouth must
have fallen dowon around my Keds.) I enjoy our sexual activities together, but
I never want them to come between us."
"Come between us!" I wanted to yell. Instead I grabbed the man's face and
kissed him and told him that I loved him, too. I slid down his chest until my
face was even with Kevin's crotch and began chewing on the denim that covered
his gorgeous cock and balls. I could feel him erecting beneath the material. I
unsnapped and unzipped his jeans and pulled his pants down to his knees. His
hard-on jumped out at me. In the time that weekend I had been with him, I was
too busy playing to look closely at the object of my sexual yearning. I took my
time now, though. Kevin was circumcized (up to that time in my experience, only
Brennan had an uncut cock, but that's another story). His penis was a little
over seven inches long when erect (We measured it the next day on my
insistance) and and four and a half inches in diameter. His balls usually hung
down in a heavy, hairy sack. The glans, the delightful tip of his wonderful
cock, was a light purple red, smoooth when ereect, wrinkled when soft (which
was seldom.)
At that moment of examinaton, his piss slit was dribbling pre-cum. I licked off
the stickiness and then took the glans in my mouth. Previously whenever I
sucked off my two young friends I did so with a sense of urgency and
unquenchable passion. It was if I was afraid that they would suddenly pull
their tiny (by comparison) cocks from my mouth and run away. I guess I knew
that Kevin wouldn't run away.
With the large organ still in my mouth, I pulled my own pants completely off so
that I lay atop my hillock in Golden Gate Park bare assed for my lover. He
didn't hesitate to take me in his mouth.
I could barely feel the suction on my own prick, I was so rapt in pleasuring my
lover. Suddenly, though, small, sharp pain erupted at my asshole as Kevin
pushed a spit slicked finger into me. He didn't bother being gentle with me. I
had made it abundantly clear that I loved the pleasure/pain of anal intrusion,
and he was intent on giving me some real pleasure. He stabbed his finger in
hard, pushing back the barrier inside. Almost immediately he found my prostate.
It was swollen with desire but, I'm sure now, smaller than most men's. Kevin
jabbed at it while trying to suck my guts out through my cock, or so it seemed.
I tried to keep up my sucking during this attack and managed to slip my own
hand around behind Kevin. I didn't bother to get my finger wet when I pushed it
in the man's asshole and he didn't seem to mind. I came quickly to Kevin's
ministrations. As I shot in his mouth, Kevin began pulling on his own balls.
Once I fininshed cumming, Kevin pulled his coick from its place in my mouth and
finished off by jacking wildly on his rod, shooting his jizzum onto my face. I
opened my mouth languidly and let some spatter in there.
Kevin took me out for dinner to Pasquale's Pizzaria, my favorite pizza place. I
hoped that I had wiped all of the spunk off my face but Iknow that I kept
wiping at imasginary cum spots all evening.
After we got home, how easily I allowed his apartment to become my home, we sat
around watching T.V. and talking. One time I started to get up to go pee but
Kevin told me to hold it. By the time late evening rolled around, my bladder
was nicely distended and my penis was hard from my need to piss. It would be
bedtime, soon, Kevin advised me. He had me stand up and then led me to the
bathroom. Slowly he undressed me, savoring each small exposition of my flesh.
At last only my jockey shorts remained and those he pulled down to my feet and
had me stewp out of. The front was damp from leakage of my prick: both piss and
pre-cum, and the seat wasn't very clean, I'm afraid. He didn't mind, no, in
fact, he seemed to revel in the filth of my underpants.
Once I was nude he lifted me into the tub and climbed in after me. While
undressing me he had undressed himself so we were both nude. This time he lay
down at my feet.
"Your turn, babe," he said. I strained my cock and began pissing on his chest.
I directed the stream to his open mouth at which time he began to piss, a
strong, yellow stream arching up into the air and against my belly. By the time
I was through pissing all over my man, we were both rock hard and soaking wet
with a mixture of our piss.
He took me to the bed, still wet, still dripping. We hd changed the sheet I had
soaked that morning, but JKevin ddn't seem to mind getting another set wet.
One thing I haven't said is that Kevin never, in all the years I've known him,
drinks alcohol. That night, sober though he was, he was intoxicated as was I.
He leaned over me and whispered in my ear, "This is sooner than I think is good
to do to you, but you want it so bad..."
He began to massage my rectum firmly, dribbling baby oil on it as he did. I
tensed up at the thought of what was to come.
"I'll stop at anytime you want," he told me as he worked thew slipperiness into
my tight hole. One finger, two fingers, one finger again. I lay on his bed,
smelling of piss, thinking about how I had put things almost as big as his
prick inside my ass. Still my gut clenched at the thought.
Pressure at the doorway. Withdrawal. More pressure, staeady, firm, knowing
exactly what it wanted. Kevin's cock became a monster with its own senses and
personality. A hot white light seared  through my intestine when Kevin pushed
the head in past the shincter. I must have scrwamed because Kevn immediately
stopped moving.
"Shall I pull out?"
"No," I muttered, "just hold still for a minute. I feel like I'm going to let
loose." There was only pain at that moment, no pleasure, not even at knowing
that my lover's cock was inside me. The pain subsided.
"More," I whispered. Slowly, Kevin pushed his hardness into me, stretching my
rectum slowly, steadily. Just as slowly the extreme pain and the urge to shit
passed from me. I lay on the bed, counting the stroke of the flesh engine that
was imaling me. The agoiny passed into a gorgeuos, delectable pain. My own
dick, which had softened at the pain of Kevin's first intromission, was hard
again. I pulled and squeezed and jackded and bucked.
I was filled to the hilt with Kevin. He pulled most of the way out and plunged
back in. I was sure at that moment that I would lose all bowel control but,
lord have mercy, did not. Kevin's face told me that he was some place not of
this world. I pulled; he pushed. I masturbated; he fucked. I lay abed, unable
to comprehend exactly what was happening to me, but loving the seering pain in
my ass. Soon I was was spurting semen all over my belly but my orgasm was some
place far away from my my conscience. Kevin kept fucking into me, pushing,
shoving, fucking, slamming. My cock didn't softenen after my first ejaculation
but remained a good little soldier standing at attention in my hand. Rapidly I
came again, this time squirting clear fluid onto Kevin's abdomen and onto my
sparse pubic hair.
With my second orgasm Kevin shuddered and fell on top of me. I think I could
feel him splattering into my intestine as he came, but I might have just
imagined it. A heavy, deep sigh escaped from his mouth as he collapsed on top
of me.
"I hope that didn't hurt too much, Billy."
I began to answer him, "I loved it, I came two times. I'd love to ..." Suddenly
my gut turned to liquid and I rolled out form under Kevin's exhausted form and
dashed to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet in time to void my
bowels. Luckily I got only a small amount on the back of my legs, little enough
to wipe off with Kleenex and toilet paper. Kevin waited long enough to let me
clean myself up before coming into the bathroom.
"Don't worry, kid," he told me, "that happens a lot the first time. Did you
like it?"

Like it? It is over twenty-five years later and I can still remember how that
first time with my man-lover felt. Like it? Kevin and I were to share many
experiences together, some with other kids, many alone. He taught me to love
someone else in spiritual as well as physical ways. He taught to give, to be a
man, to forgive and to share. He taught me to accept my homosexuality and
taught me the harder lesson of accepting my bisexuality.  Were it not for
Kevin, for the unconditional love that he gave me, I may have long ago faded
into nothingness. I loved this man who became the father that my own father had
never been. I loved him and still do. After a quater of a century we are still
father and son,; he is, in fact, my son's god-father if a pagan family can have
a god father.
Thank you, Kevin.