Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2006 10:49:25 -0800 (PST)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Jason's Blue Bicycle (1)

   This is a work of fiction, submitted for whatever entertainment value it
might possesses. It will involve sexual activity between males, some of
which are under age. If you are offended by this type of fiction, please
seek other reading materials. The author appreciates all comments, and will
reply to all. Storyguy22@yahoo.com


(1)


   Twelve year old Jason circled the shiny new bicycle again, making it
somewhere around the tenth complete circling he had executed during the
last fifteen minutes. He seemed unable to get enough of looking at the
shimmering dark blue paint, or the sparkling chrome accessories that held
his gaze, much like a moth to a flame. Oh, how he wanted to own this bike,
had dreamed of it, even, on more than one fitful night in his bed, crystal
clear images of his slender young body perched astride the stunning
vehicle, as his smooth, toned legs pumped at the wide, chrome pedal pads,
while his tanned, and just-developing, arms held proudly to the high handle
bars, as his friends all looked on with drooling envy at his amazing ride.

   He had first seen the bike some weeks ago, as he passed the small
bicycle shop on his way home from school. It literally filled the shops
front window display area, as it stood there, gleaming in all its beauty
under the bright overhead spotlight that so effectively enhanced the
numerous chrome parts, and accented the custom metallic paint that adorned
the sleek, modern, frame. Even the large wheels were gleaming chrome, as
were the shiny thin spokes, and all of the chrome was further accented by
the coal blackness of the rugged looking knobby tires. Even the hard, black
leather racing style seat gleamed with sleek newness, as did the chrome,
spring-loaded package carrier behind it, and Jason had been fully
captivated by its breathtaking beauty, literally freezing in his tracks,
his boyish jaw agape, as he stared through the window at what was doubtless
the most amazing bicycle he had ever seen in all of his young life.

   Finally managing to close his nearly drooling mouth, Jason had pulled
himself together enough to enter the shop, and move to the display area,
where he had tentatively reached out his small hand, and let his fingers
lightly graze over the highly polished surface of the frames cross bar, as
a small moan of pleasure escaped from his lush, pouty lips. He vowed then,
and there, to find some way in which to own this wonder-bike, even if it
meant toiling at mowing neighborhood lawns, or weeding flower beds, and
sweeping garages and sidewalks, from dawn till dusk. He had managed to
extricate himself from the dazzling machine finally, moving to the service
counter to inquire as to the price of his new dream, and learning that he
would, indeed, need to work many an hour to amass the funds required to
purchase this incredible bike, but, with a last furtive gaze at his dream,
he exited the shop, as he furrowed his smooth brow with sheer determination
to somehow realize the dream, or die trying. He simply had to have this
bike, no matter what it took.

   Several weeks of intense effort had now ensued, with Jason spending
every free moment of daylight either toiling tirelessly at the performance
of the neighborhood tasks that he had successfully contracted, or, knocking
on doors in pursuit of additional work to help build on the slowly growing
funds he required for the purchase of the dream bike. As he once more
circled the gleaming machine, unable to make himself stop touching its
amazing smoothness, he sighed, mentally adding up his cash on hand for the
umpteenth time, and, sighed again, as his total once again fell
considerably short of the necessary amount. Summer, he told himself, was
rapidly waning toward Fall, and, if he didn't get the money together soon,
Winter would arrive, and with it, school, to eat into his free time, and
snow, to force an end to his humble employment opportunities. With another
sigh of frustration, Jason managed finally to pry himself away from his
dream, and exit the shop, as he tossed an off-handed wave to the shop
owner, who smiled weakly at the handsome boy, his empathy for the youngster
welling heavily in his chest.

   Back on the sidewalk, Jason cast one last, longing, look at the shop
window, and his greatest wish, then, hurried home to change into his work
clothes, and get to his chores, before he ran out of daylight. He had
squandered an hour in the bike shop, and he all but ran now, as he turned
up the sidewalk leading to his house, and entered.

   He called a greeting to his mother, then, hurried into his bedroom,
already working on pulling his tee shirt over his head as he went. Inside
his bedroom, he swung the door closed, then, dropped onto the bed, bending,
to pull off his tennis shoes, then, stood, and worked open the snap, and
zip, of his jeans, pushing them down his smooth, hairless legs. He stepped
out of the puddle of his pants, then, moved across the room toward his
dresser, pausing, as he noticed his reflection in the long mirror affixed
to the back of his bedroom door. Pausing, he turned to face the mirror, and
let his eyes check out his reflected image from top to bottom. Jason was
about average for his twelve and a half years, standing about five feet,
four, or five, inches in height, and weighing around one hundred ten
pounds. His hair was a sandy shade, not actually blond, nor brown, but kind
of in-between, worn somewhat longish for the summer months, so that its
softness bowled over his head, and all but hid his smallish ears, with
errant strands falling onto his forehead like unkept bangs. He inched
closer to the mirror, and studied his face momentarily, noting the
lingering appearance of boyishness, with his flawless complexion, and dark
brown eyes. His nose was tiny, the classic "button," that turned slightly
upward right at the tip, and his mouth was oval, a bit of a natural pout,
with full, lush lips. He extended the pink tip of his tongue between his
lips slightly, and giggled, his voice a still mostly unchanged, youthful,
lilt that filled the quiet room.

   Stepping back slightly, Jason let his eyes drift over his reflected
torso, and noted the budding development of his musculature, his shoulders,
and pectorals, just beginning to show the fruits of his summer labors. Twin
nickel-sized nipples dotted his satin smooth chest, a darker shade than his
golden tanned skin, with slightly puffy areola surrounding the tiny stiff
points at their center. He reached up, and lightly stroked the small nubins
with his fingertip, shuddering slightly at the tingling sensation the
action caused deep in his ball sac, a fairly recent discovery among the
myriad of discoveries regarding his burgeoning young body that had evolved
during this summer. Some months ago young Jason had discovered the intense
pleasure his developing body was capable delivering when properly
stimulated, and, as a result, he now spent a fair amount of most every
evening exploring the magic of those intense feelings while lying naked in
his bed before drifting off to sleep. Masturbation, or, jerking-off, as
some of his buddy's referred to the act, was now supreme on Jason's list of
favorite sports, especially since he had startled himself some six or seven
weeks back by producing a fairly strongly delivered ejaculation of watery
boy sperms that splattered across his heaving tummy as he worked his fist
rapidly up and down his rigid erection.

   The mere thought of that event caused Jason's penis to rapidly inflate,
and he watched intently in the mirror as his small white briefs distended,
and tented, as his erection rapidly outgrew the limited space available in
his tiny briefs. He giggled, turning slightly sideways to the mirror to
better appreciate his now throbbing appendage, then, boldly hooked his
thumbs into the snug elastic of the waist, and lowered the small garment,
hooking the waist band under his plump scrotum, baring his bobbing penis,
and balls, to the mirror. He clasped his hands behind his head then, and
thrust his slim hips back and forth, giggling sweetly, at the sight of his
rock hard boner thrusting at the air before him.

   Pausing then, Jason's expression turned more serious, as he closely
studied his proud boyhood's reflection in the glass. All in all, Jason was
pretty happy with his equipment, though he was eager for it to grow bigger
than its current four inches, and narrow girth, but, he was confident that
it was merely a matter of time, and maturity, before he, too, would sport
the heavy, thick slab that the preponderance of the guys on the various web
sites he frequented on the sly had jutting forth from masses of dark pubic
hairs, and the sometimes massive balls that hung below. He reached down,
and lowered his briefs to his knees, then, faced full on to the mirror,
examining his erection more closely, and checking out his own meager patch
of straggly hairs at his groin, just above the base of his erection. He
frowned slightly, wishing that nature would amp things up some, then smiled
slightly, remembering the recent sight of his friend Jimmy's totally bald
groin, as they had changed clothes at the public pool. Not only did Jimmy
have not even a single pube, his dick was tiny, compared to Jason's, and,
his balls were barely anything at all. Jason gripped his stiff dick in his
hand, and eased it to the side, as his eyes settled on his plump scrotum's
reflection, and he smiled again, spreading his legs further, as he happily
noted the fullness, and the gentle hang of his nuts between his smooth
thighs. He gave the rigid stalk in his hand a few pumps, the delicious, and
familiar, flood of pleasure washing over him, and he considered moving to
his bed to jerk off a load, then, abandoned the thought with a sigh of
regret, his mind once more shifting to the gleaming dream bicycle in the
window, and his quest to possess it. He released his throbbing boyhood,
arched his back, and took one last longing look at his pride and joy, then,
whirled, and craned his neck to briefly check out his snow-white, and taut
little bubble butt's image in the mirror, before moving on to the dresser
to retrieve some clean briefs, and socks.

   He dressed quickly, ignoring his pulsing erection, as he donned a fresh
pair of small, white briefs, and clean gym socks, then, pulled on a pair of
shorts, and a tank-top, and slipped into his tennis shoes. He exited his
bedroom, and moved through the house, reaching the front door, where he
paused to call out to his mother that he was going to do some lawns, and
would be home before dinner, then, went back outside, and down the block to
his first customer of the afternoon.

   Jason worked efficiently, and quickly, mowing three neighbors lawns
within an hour, and, as he arrived at the next customers home, he rang the
bell to announce his presence, then, stood on the porch, swabbing a forearm
at his sweating brow, as he waited an answer to his ring. The door swing
wide, and Jason was greeted by a teen boy he knew to be Mark, the sixteen
year old brother of Karin, one of his fellow eight graders. He informed
Mark that he was here to mow the grass, and Mark nodded his approval, and
Jason walked to the garage to get the lawn mower, as Mark, and a friend of
his, exited the house, and went to the side patio, where they settled into
lounge chairs, chatting. Jason got the mower going, and completed his task,
then did the edging, and weeding, his mind focused on the bike that was his
motivation, as he grudgingly realized that at this rate of garnering funds,
he wasn't likely to be riding it any time soon. Not only is it taking way
too long this way, he thought with a snort, even when I finally do get the
money together, I'll be too sore, and tired, to ride it, anyway. Finished,
he cleaned up the mess, and dumped the clippings into the trash container,
then, pushed the mower up the driveway toward the garage. As he entered the
open garage, he heard the voices of Mark, and his friend, talking at the
back of the large garage, just as Mark uttered a fairly loud, and very
surprised,

   "No freeking way, dude^Åreally^Å?"

   "Yes way, dude^ÅI freeking swear it^Åall true^Åthe freeking perv
actually did^Åjust like I told you^Å!" came the retort from Mark's buddy.

   "Jeez-o^Å.what a freeking perv^Å.no shit, now^Å.he really did
that^Å?....freeking offered to pay you^Åto let him play with your dick,
and, shit^Åtake freeking naked pic's of you^Å?....how fucked up is that^Å?"
Mark replied, his voice rising with disbelief.


   Jason froze, listening closely, but not wanting the teens to know he was
there, as his attention peaked, very much interested in almost any means of
securing additional cash quickly. He eased closer to the rear of the cars
that separated him from the older boys, and cocked his head slightly,
straining to hear every word as it was spoken.

   "I know, dude^Åbig time, fucked up, definitely^Åsurprised the shit out
of me, big time^ÅI mean, damn^ÅI freeking worked for the creep, like, all
summer, and never had a clue he was, like, all perving my freeking bod, you
know^Å?...fucking fag, big time^Åman, I could hardly fucking quit that
asshole fast enough, once he pulled that shit^ÅI was, like, so fucking out
of there^Å!" the friend said forcefully.

   Mark guffawed, and replied,

   "Fuck, I guess so, dude^Åcreepy^Å.the fucker is, like, as old as my Dad,
for shit sake^Åall hitting on you like that^Åand worse^Åwanting to fucking
pay you for it, like some freeking old whore^Åshit^Åthat sucks, dude^Å!

   The buddy laughed, then answered,

   "More like sucks NOT^Åmoney or not, the freeking creep ain't getting his
hands, or his queer fucking mouth, on my stuff^Å.no fucking way^Å!"

    Mark chuckled, and Jason heard him say,

   "Man^Å.freeking old man Lawson^Åshit, man^Åthe dude has been taking our
school pictures, and yearbook, and sports shit, like, ever since we were
freshmen^Åwho fucking knew the whole time he was wanting to suck every
swinging dick in school^ÅJesus^Åwell, good call with the quitting the job
thing, man^Åhell, it might be catching, or something, you know^Å?....come
on dude^Ålet's head on over to the park, and maybe catch a pickup game, or
something^Å"

   The two teens went out the small door at the back of the garage, and
Jason slid to the cool concrete floor, his mind reeling, as he processed
the new information he had just gleaned. Mr. Lawson, he knew, was a local
photographer who had, for as long as Jason could remember, taken all of the
school pictures every year, and the year book, and sports, and all kinds of
events, and his studio was on the other side of the high school campus, not
far from the shop that housed Jason's dream ride. He stood then, rapidly
stowing away the mower, and catch basket, as he considered his options
regarding Mr. Lawson, and, more importantly, the opportunity to greatly
enhance his cash flow, and expedite his ownership of that killer
bicycle. What could a few naked pictures and some playing around with his
dick, matter, as long as he got that bike, and got it sooner, rather than
later. Yup, Jason decided, as he headed home for his dinner, checking out
the happenings with Mr. Lawson was, definitely, worth a shot, because that
bike, owning it, mattered more than anything, anything at all, and, he
resolved, creepy or not, he was most definitely going over there
tomorrow^Åafter all, if nothing else, Mr. Lawson had a job opening now,
right?

   Later that night, Jason lay in his bed, his bedroom nearly dark, save
for the soft glow of the bright moon streaming through his open window. His
mind ran a virtual slide show of images of the amazing bicycle of his
dreams, as his hand slowly explored his stiff little penis, stroking it
easily, and occasionally moving to cup, and jostle his plump pouch, rolling
the marble sized ovals of his young balls. He let his fingers slide through
his meager pubes, tugging on them lightly, as he savored the silky feel of
the recently emerged growth, and then let a fingertip move back and forth
across the glassy smooth head of his circumcised penis, shuddering at the
intense feelings that movement evoked in his youthful body. His thoughts
turned then to what he had heard earlier, in the garage at Marks, about
Mr. Lawson, the photographer, and his apparent proposal to Mark's friend
that he pay him money in exchange for his taking naked pictures of the
teen, and, for some kind of sex play that seemed to involve the older man
playing with the younger man's penis. Jason idly wondered about that, as he
briefly gave his attention to the pleasant feelings that he was enjoying at
this moment, as his small hand glided deftly over the length of his rigid
boyhood. He had, during his online explorations, viewed many images of men,
and boys, of various ages, touching each others penis' and balls, and he
had been struck by the expressions of pure ecstasy that painted their
faces, an expression that clearly told Jason that having someone else
touch, and rub, your penis must be far better, even, than the amazing
feeling of doing it to yourself.

   Still slowly rubbing his pulsing erection, Jason let himself conjure up
an image of Mr. Lawson, then, tried to imagine himself naked before the
middle-aged man, and even tried to visualize the man touching his naked
young body. The image did not repulse the boy in any way, and, he tried
then to recall exactly what else it was that Mark's friend had intimated
that the old man had suggested. It came to him then, and he giggled softly,
shifting his mental image to one of old Mr. Lawson kneeling before him, and
taking his hard, young boyhood into his mouth. This, too, was an image he
had seen on web sites, and his slender body trembled with excitement, as he
imagined how intense a feeling that must be. Yes, young Jason concluded, he
could, and, given the opportunity, would, submit to the things that old
Mr. Lawson apparently desired, and, more importantly, was willing to pay
for. As Jason picked up his pace, and rhythm, now quickly working his
throbbing young penis toward orgasm, he was suddenly firm in his resolve to
pursue this arrangement with Mr. Lawson, because, after all, he really,
really, wanted that bike!

   The thought of the shiny blue bicycle forced all other thoughts and
images from Jason's mind, as his entire being gave itself over to his
desire to possesses that blue bike, and, with a nearly high-definition
quality image of himself astride the bike, his tender young balls erupted,
and his jerking young boner expelled several small puddles of slightly
watery boy-cum onto his heaving bare tummy. Jason rode out the
breath-taking orgasm, his lithe body quaking with pleasure, as his small
hips bucked, and rolled, under him, until the intense feeling faded, and he
slumped, exhausted, onto the bed beneath him, his heart hammering inside
his still heaving chest. He propped a pillow behind his head, and looked
down over his splattered tummy, giggling softly at the sight of his fresh,
young discharge shining on his satin smooth skin in the soft
moonglow. Moving a slender arm, he trailed his fingers through the small
puddles of warm, slick fluid, as he idly wondered if Mr. Lawson wanted the
stuff inside his mouth, and, as the curiosity of the thought struck him, he
moved his slimy fingers to his lush lips, and eased two of them into his
mouth, sucking them gently, as his taste buds registered the slightly acrid
flavor of his youthful essence. Removing the now clean digits from his
mouth, Jason savored the lingering taste briefly, then, shrugged, thinking
that it really wasn't like anything bad, actually, and, if old man Lawson
wanted some, well, it was all a matter of price, because he really just had
to have that bike!!

   That, as it turns out, was young Jason's final thought on the matter for
that day, as he rolled onto his side, tucked up his pillow, and slid into a
deep, sound, sleep, lingering visions of the blue bicycle clinging at the
outer edges of his slumbering brain.

(To Be Continued)
Storyguy22@yahoo.com