Date: Mon, 10 Apr 2000 17:07:48 GMT
From: Limo Man <chub_bi@hotmail.com>
Subject: Me 'N Pete - Part 2
Usual warnings:
- contains sex between adult/child and youth/child.
- if you are under eighteen, leave now.
- if this type of material offends you, leave now.
As with Part One, this is a true story. It happened to me a long time ago
- but the memories are as clear and strong as if they happened this
morning.
**************************
Me 'N Pete - Part 2
As part of writing my story, I went back and looked at some family
photo albums. All the pictures were black and white from this time period
but brought back a flood of memories. I even found a picture of Pete. I
am ashamed to say that I probably stole it from the Rigallo's as I am not
sure my parents knew Pete existed. Pete was kind of the black sheep of the
Rigallo family - tolerated because he was a relative - but hidden from
public view.
My pictures confirm that I was indeed big for my age. Pictures taken
on my eighth birthday show that I am taller than my mom - who was 5' 5"
tall. By twelve, I was over six feet. There is also a picture of me in
the bathing suit that comes into the story.
It was very daring for the time - 1955. It think my mother bought it for
me without me trying it on. It was too small for me. It sat low on my
hips and clearly outlined my large equipment and my butt crack. I was
surprised that she allowed me to wear it in public. But on to my story.
******************************
From the time I was six until I reached eight, Pete's visits were
sporadic. Later, I was to learn that he was in jail, a few times, for his
constant trespassing on railroad property. I also found out a little more
about hoboes. They were primarily male, and due to the lack of female
companionship - primarily gay. They were attracted to smooth, hairless
young boys - as close as they could come to a female partner. Pete was no
exception. But, from our first day together, I was a willing participant
and sought him out.
A few days after my eighth birthday, Pete arrived for a Friday night
visit to his niece. I seemed to have a sixth sense that told me he was
there. I met him on the basement stairs. I had changed after school and
put on my new red swim suit. I knew Pete would like it. I had covered it
with shorts and a T-shirt so that I could surprise him.
We greeted each other with our customary kiss and hug. As we hugged,
Pete's hands cupped my bum cheeks and squeezed.
"What are you wearing," he asked.
"My new bathing suit," I answered proudly.
"Show me," he asked?
I peeled off my T-shirt, then very slowly stripped off my shorts.
Standing in my swim suit, I put my hands high in the air and pirouetted for
him. He let out a slow appreciative gasp. Everything showed through the
thin material of the suit. My penis showed clearly as did my balls hanging
below - held tightly in the undersized suit. My bum was equally visible to
him as the material dug into my crack.
Pete turned me around so that my back was to him. He pulled up the
back of my suit until the material was buried in my crack. The bottom half
of my cheeks were exposed to the air. He pulled me onto his lap, face
down. His smooth tongue drew a line along the bottom of the material and
up and down my crack. I could feel my penis swell in the tight confines of
the suit. Pete continued to kiss my bum and massage it with his hands.
He rolled me over on his lap, eyeing the front of my suit. He rubbed
it with his hand causing me to swell even more. Pete bent his head down
and started to suck me through the material. As the suit became wet, it
also became semi-transparent. As I had yet to get it wet, this was a major
surprise. You could see my penis clearly through the tightly stretched
cloth. Pete seemed thrilled by this and sucked even harder. The fact that
his niece might arrive home at any moment was the farthest thing from his
mind.
His continued sucking was making the suit very uncomfortable.
Fortunately, Pete tired of sucking through the cloth. Raising my hips, he
lowered my suit enough so that my penis sprang free and my balls were
exposed. He lowered his mouth onto me again - slowly licking me like a
Popsicle. He spent a lot of time with just my head in his mouth, sucking
it gently. The familiar feelings of pleasure were beginning to take hold
of my young body.
Sucking my tender head, he reached his hand between my legs and
squeezed my nuts through their protective sheath. He pulled my suit up my
legs and off altogether. He raised my legs in the air, spreading them
apart. My crack parted, allowing him access to my hole. He wet a finger
and slowly inserted it. His back and forth movements soon had me moaning
and bucking.
But then he stopped. I couldn't believe it. He was pulling my suit
back on me before I had cum. But I need not have worried. Pete had just
figured out a new variation to our games. With my suit back on, Pete
pushed me towards the steps. He had me kneel several steps up from him
with my bum facing him - encased in the tight red suit. I leaned forward,
my elbows and forearms resting on another step. My bum was an inviting
target.
Pete leaned forward and licked my bum crack through the suit. He
pushed it hard against my hole. He licked and tongued as hard as he could
through the wet material. He moved his mouth to the top edge of my suit.
Using his teeth, he started to pull the material down slowly - exposing
more and more of my cheeks and crack as he went. He would pause every so
often to lick the newly exposed skin, then go back to pulling again.
Soon, my suit was below my bum, exposing me fully to him. Pete reached
between my legs and started to stroke my hard penis. As he did so, his
tongue probed my tight poop hole. He pushed it farther up inside of me.
Every so often, he hit a spot that almost caused me to collapse on the
steps. My young body was ready to explode and Pete knew it. His tongue
pushed into my inner wetness, tasting my poop hole. His hand worked
feverishly on my penis. I pumped into his fingers wanting release from the
strain of the pressure building inside of me.
Suddenly, I was over the edge - pumping hard into his fingers and
gasping. He tried valiantly to keep his tongue working inside of me, but I
was bucking too much. He finally, gave up, giving his full attention to my
penis. I came in great waves. My body collapsed in a heap on the cold
cement. Pete continued to stroke me until I started to soften. He pulled
up my tight red suit; patted my bum; and told me he would see me in the
morning. I could hardly wait. I headed home for supper. As I entered the
house, I saw Mrs. Rigallo's car coming down the street. We exchanged waves
as I went inside.
****************************
I was up with the birds on Saturday morning - little knowing that the
day held a surprise for me - one that almost made me forget Pete. As I sat
on the steps waiting for the Rigallo"s to leave, a large truck arrived at
the house next door. A car pulled up behind it. Soon, the street was
alive with men moving furniture into the house. It had become vacant
recently when old Mrs. Jones had died, leaving the house to her family.
The house had been for rent for a while and now appeared ready to be
occupied again.
As I watched, I saw a boy get out of the car. I was stunned. He
looked to be the same size as me. My heart jumped. A kid was moving into
the neighborhood. After eight years of loneliness, was I finally getting
someone to play with.
I studied the boy carefully. He was very athletic looking. His
blonde hair was short and very curly. His upper body was covered by a
tight white T-shirt -with the sleeves cut off. This gave me a view of his
well muscled arms and shoulders. He was not built like Charles Atlas or
Joe Weider - the guys who sold body building courses in my comic books -
but looked very taut and firm. His T-shirt clung tightly to his chest and
abdomen. There was a hint of his nipples and the dark area around them
under the white material. He wore gray, cut-off shorts that barely covered
his private areas. They clung tightly to his body, allowing for a nice
view of his bum cheeks and the bulge in front. His long tanned legs sprang
from his shorts and ended at white socks and sneakers.
I was becoming a little uneasy. I was feeling more than a budding
friendship developing here. As my eyes studied him, I started to picture
him naked - doing the same things with me that I had done with Pete.
Somehow, I never even imagined myself with anyone but Pete - until today.
It was a little scary. And very exciting.
After the boy disappeared into the house, I continued to watch the
movers bringing the furniture and boxes inside. Realizing that the
Rigallo's had been gone for a while, I thought about going to see Pete.
Something inside of me told me I wanted to see more of this new boy. So, I
sat on the step and waited. Soon my patience was rewarded.
The boy came out of his house a few more times. He was carrying some
of his family's belongings in from the car. It must have been hot work as
he was soon without a shirt. The sight of this blonde beauty was starting
to take its toll on me. I was getting hard just watching him. His firm,
sculpted chest was rising and falling as he worked. My rate of breathing
soon increased to match his.
At some point, he noticed me sitting on my steps. He smiled and waved
and I melted. His smile was almost enough to make me cum in my pants. I
waved back and hopefully gave him an equally stunning smile in return. He
continued on with his work until the car was empty.
After a few minutes without seeing him, I thought he had settled down
in his new house and was probably unpacking. As I was about to go into my
own house, he emerged from his. He had two bottles of Coke in his hand and
was heading my way. Arriving at the foot of the stairs, he asked me if I
wanted a Coke. I nodded. He climbed up and sat beside me, handing me a
bottle.
"Hi! My name is Mike," he said in a pleasant voice.
"Hi! I'm Dave," I answered back.
We sat there in somewhat embarrassed silence. I had a certain lack of
social skills in this area due to my lack of playmates.
"Have you lived here long," Mike asked?
"All my life," I answered.
"How old are you," he asked.
"Eight," I replied, "I just turned eight.
"Go on! You can't be eight. You are as tall as I am and I am
thirteen."
"I'm eight," I replied. "If you don't believe me, you can ask my
mother."
"Wow, I thought you were at least my age. I can't believe it. Are
there any other kids in the neighborhood?"
"No, most of the neighbors are old fogeys or older couples with no
kids."
"Too bad," he said. "I guess you and I will be spending a lot of time
together."
"That will be great," I answered! I think the my huge smile and my
overly enthusiastic answer made him a bit uncomfortable.
"What do you like to do," he asked?
"Oh. I just hang around."
"Maybe you and I can work out together," he continued. "I have a full
weight set that I am going to set up in the basement. I also hope to get
on the wrestling team at school. I have some mats. Maybe I can show you
some moves, sometime."
"That would be great," I replied, trying to lower my level of
enthusiasm a little. The faint odor of boy sweat on his firm body was
already making me dizzy. I could only imagine what wrestling with him
would be like. I had never been this close to another boy before. I could
hardly keep my eyes off of him, almost naked in his cut-offs. His nipples
were small, surrounded by a darker ring. As he rested his arms on his
knees, I could see a hint of hair in his arm pit. His firm chest was
hairless. A faint trace of darker hair started at his belly button and
disappeared into his shorts. I could almost feel the heat emanating from
him.
"Well," he said, "I have to go back in the house and unpack. I'll see
you later."
I handed him back the empty bottle as he started down the steps. I
watched the rippling of his muscular legs as they carried him back to his
house; his firm cheeks moving rhythmically up and down in his tight gray
shorts. I sat for a minute after he was gone. I had a sudden need for
relief. It was then that I remembered Pete. I headed for the Rigallo's.
Pete was waiting for me and seemed annoyed with me. I didn't realize
it, but half the day was gone. Pete started to question me. His questions
indicated that he knew why I was late.
"Who was that boy you were talking to," he asked?
"His name is Mike. He just moved in and we are going to be friends,"
I answered.
"Do you think you could get him to come over here some time," Pete
continued.
"What for," I shot back.
"Oh, maybe the three of us could have some fun."
At this point, an ugly thing called jealousy reared up inside me. I
wasn't about to share Pete with anyone else. And I was angry that Pete
would want anyone else but me. At my age, it never dawned on me that I was
not Pete's first and would not be his last.
"He wouldn't like that," I spat out. "He's not like you and I. He
isn't interested in the things we do. Leave him alone."
"Whoa," Pete said, holding his hands up in front of him. "You don't
have to get jealous. I still need you. I just thought you might like to
have someone new to play with. We could teach him so much."
If anyone was going to teach Mike anything, it would be me.
"I don't think I like you anymore," I said. "I'm going home!" I
turned to leave, but Pete's hands on my shoulders held me in place.
"Don't be like that," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
He hugged me to his body and stroked my chest.
Damn, I wanted to leave and show him he couldn't push me around - but
an unfulfilled need deep within me held me there. I turned to face him and
we kissed. It was a kiss of passion. Visions of an almost-naked Mike
danced in my head. Pete must have felt my need. He stripped off his
clothes quickly and then removed mine. He laid me on the bed and
positioned himself beside me, laying in the opposite direction. His
semi-erect penis was in front of my mouth and mine in front of his. This
was something new. We had never done it this way before.
He pushed himself towards my mouth and I took the hint. I kissed his
wrinkled head a few times and licked his pee hole. The wrinkles
disappeared quickly. I licked his crown and down around the edge. He
pushed his hips towards me; his hard penis choking me as it suddenly
penetrated my throat. As I started to slide my mouth up and down his
hardness, I could feel him working on mine. As he sucked me hungrily, I
closed my eyes and imagined Mike going down on my penis.
Pete was sucking me with an eagerness and ferocity that I had never
experienced before. He was usually in control when we were together. This
time, he seemed to be driving his penis into my mouth as fast as he could
move. I hardly had a chance to suck or tongue him. He was using my mouth
the same as he would my poop hole. It suddenly struck me that he might be
in my mouth but imagining Mike's mouth, instead. I had a strange urge to
bite him but stopped myself.
His eager sucking on my penis was quickly bringing me to the relief I
needed. As I felt myself starting to cum, my sac tightened and I pumped
into Pete's mouth. I could taste the first juices escaping from Pete. I
shot the cum I didn't have into his mouth, my hips driving me in as far as
I could go. The first shot from Pete entered my throat. It was a huge
load that caused me to gag. Again, a picture of Mike choking my juices
down his throat (in my vision, I could shoot). It took only a few seconds
before we lay back on the bed - drained and spent - fighting to regain our
breath.
As I thought of Mike - was Pete thinking of him, too. Slowly we
recovered. Pete sat up on the bed and again started to question me. How
old was Mike? What did he look like? Did he have any hair on his body? I
was answering in yes's or no's. I was boiling inside. The anger boiled up
in me.
"Why are you so interested in Mike," I challenged? "I thought you
only wanted to be with me. I.............I thought you loved me." It
dawned on me that Pete had never said he loved me. His gentleness and
attitude told me that he liked me - that he cared for me. But my hurt and
anger quickly wiped away any feelings I might have for Pete. At eight, I
was unable to reason sensibly. I wanted to lash out at Pete - to hurt him
for hurting me. Pete was not going to dump me for someone else.
I dressed quickly and ran from the house. I was too young to
understand that what I thought Pete was doing to me - trading me in for
another - was what I wanted to do to him. I wanted Mike for myself. I
didn't want to share him. And, I was ready to leave Pete behind.
My relationship with Pete had changed. It was not the last time I was
with Pete - but we would not be together again for almost a year. I was
still too young to realize that my desire to be with Mike was no different
than Pete wanting to spend time with another boy.
I was probably hurting him as much as he had hurt me.
***************************
My friendship with Mike developed slowly. Because of our different
ages, we attended different schools. The only time I saw him was after
school and on weekends - and then only when he wasn't with friends from
school. Being older than me, Mike was able to travel farther from home
than me. Even though I had a bike, I was confined to our block.
We started to get to know each other and become closer. I was eager
to try out weight lifting and wrestling as it would bring me into close
contact with Mike.
I remember the first time he asked me to weight lift. It was a
Saturday morning - three weeks after he had moved in. I was sitting on my
back porch. Mike came into his back yard, heading for the chinning bar his
dad had installed on the side of the garage. He was barefoot and wore only
his tight gray shorts. I watched as he chinned himself on the bar. I
could not take my eyes off of him - his muscles rippling beneath the skin
of his lean golden body.
Mike must have seen me watching him. He finished chinning himself and
asked if I wanted to try it. I said sure and was not long in catapulting
over the fence into his yard. I peeled off my shirt and headed for the
bar. I had never done this before, but being with Mike made me want to do
good. I positioned myself; jumped up; grabbed the bar and fell to the
ground as my hands slipped off. Mike helped me up, trying to suppress a
laugh.
"Here," he said, "let me spot for you."
I stood beneath the bar. Mike place his warm hands on either side of
my body, just above my waist. The touch of his hands both startled me and
sent a shiver up my spine. I almost forgot what I was supposed to do. I
launched myself up to the bar, getting a secure grip. As I lifted my body
up and down, Mike's fingers brushed along my sides - prepared to catch me
if I fell. I completed my tenth chin up, and deliberately let my fingers
slip off of the bar. As I fell, Mike's strong arms came around my chest
and caught me. I fell back against his chest and stomach. The warmth was
exciting as I felt his firm nipples pressing into me.
I held my position as long as I could, until Mike deposited me onto my
feet.
"Thanks," I said, "my fingers must have slipped."
"Hey, no problem," he replied, "that's why I was spotting for you. Do
you want to come into the house and we can work on the weights?"
"Sure," I answered. The idea of watching Mike and working out with
Mike was causing a familiar stirring inside my underwear.
We headed into the house through the basement door. This was my first
time inside and I gasped when I saw the equipment. There were a variety of
weight set ups and benches taking up half the basement. As well, one
quarter of the basement was set up for wrestling, with padded mats covering
the floor. The fourth quarter appeared to be Mike's bedroom and a bathroom
- although it was difficult to see as it was curtained off from the rest of
the area. The curtain was open enough that I could see part of a large
bed.
Mike led me around the various equipment, explaining the exercises he
did on each one. On several, he stopped to demonstrate. I dutifully
studied every move of his wonderful body as he showed me what to do. Then
it was my turn. I can't remember the names for all the exercises, but I
think I did fairly well at them. Anyway, Mike seemed pleased that he had
someone he could work out with.
By the time we reached the last bench, I was sweating and so was Mike.
Our bodies glistened in the basement lights. It wasn't until that moment
that I noticed that each exercise area was illuminated by a small
spotlight. It was kind of neat, like performing in a spotlight.
Mike lay down on the bench and positioned himself at the end beneath
the weight bar. He asked me to spot for him. I wasn't sure what he wanted
and just stood there looking at him. He instructed me to straddle his
chest with my legs so that I was almost over his chest. I moved into
position, facing the weight bar and Mike's head and shoulders. The warmth
of my inner legs and thighs pressing against his sides was making me sweat
even more. My crotch was almost resting on his chest.
He told me to help him lift the bar bell off of the stand and into
position. I did so and he was soon raising and lowering the bar and the
weights. His chest rose and fell with the movement of the bar. This
caused his chest to push up against my crotch rhythmically. I was starting
to get hard. From Mike's position, it would have been very obvious. But
Mike was concentrating on his workout. When he was finished, I helped him
put the bar back on the stand.
"Your turn," he said, waiting for me to get off of him.
I move aside and he stood up. As I lay down, I could feel the heat
where his body had lain. The bench was damp with Mike's sweat. Mike
grabbed my sides and helped me to slide up to the bar. He positioned
himself over my chest as he explained that normally a spotter would stand
behind the bar. As I had no experience at lifting or spotting, the
position over the chest was safer.
I was glad. His warm inner thighs resting against my body were
heating up my penis until it was almost erect. From this position, I could
study his chest. His nipples appeared hard from the exertion of his
workout. I studied the sculpted muscles that led down to his belly button.
From there, I followed the small trail of dark hairs that disappeared into
his shorts. I was sweating, but not from my workout.
Mike grabbed the bar and helped me position it. I was able to do
three repetitions before the bar became too heavy and rested on my chest.
He helped me to lift it off and put it back on the stand.
"I thought that was too much weight for you," he said. "Next time we
will try something a little lighter. What are you looking at?"
I was startled. I realized I had been staring at the little trail of
hair below his belly button - imagining what it looked like down below.
"What's the matter, haven't you seen a boy with hair before," he
added?
"No," I answered.
He slid farther down my body until he was standing over my groin.
Fortunately, he was not quite touching my erection. His fingers touched
lightly on my belly button and traced down the naked flesh to the top of my
shorts.
"You don't have any hair yet, do you," Mike said.
His fingers continued to play with the bare skin along the top edge of
my shorts, sending chills through my body. He must have noticed the effect
he was having on me. He continued his finger play. I raised up on one
elbow and placed my finger on his belly button. I slowly followed the
trail of hair down to his shorts.
"It looks kind of neat," I said. "How far down does it go." As I
continued to caress the skin along the top of his shorts, I could see goose
bumps forming on his flesh and a noticeable shiver pass through his body.
He seemed to like what I was doing as it took him a long time to answer my
question.
"I.................I will show you if you show me yours," he
stammered.
I noticed that a few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
"But I don't have any hair............down there," nodding toward my
crotch.
"That's O.K.," he said. "Maybe you have some and haven't noticed it
yet."
Mike stepped off of my body and onto the floor. I stood, facing him.
There was an awkward silence as we both gripped the upper edge of our
shorts. Neither one wanting to make the first move. Heck, I thought, if
you want to see Mike's, now is the time.
Grabbing the top edge of my shorts, I slid them down to my ankles.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped my fingers inside the waist band of my
underwear. I hesitated, wondering what Mike would think if he saw that I
was starting to get hard.
Slowly, I slid them down. The mound above my penis came into view.
Then the base. Finally, my undies slid past my penis, allowing it to
spring forward into the air. It was not fully hard, but well on its way.
As my swollen penis came into view, I thought I heard an audible gasp from
Mike.
Pushing my undies down to my ankles, I stood up and placed my hands on
my hips. I was fully exposed for Mike to see. And he was seeing - his
eyes riveted on the swelling below my waist.
"It's so big," he mumbled. "I can't believe it. Your only eight and
your dick is as big as mine."
"What's a dick," I asked innocently.
"Your penis," Mike answered. "Little boys call it a penis - but my
friends and I call it a dick - or cock - or pecker - or wang - there are
lots of names for it."
"Neat," I said.
Mike continued to stare at me then realized it was his turn to expose
his young body. His fingers fumbled momentarily at the upper edge of his
shorts. Slowly he slid them down, never taking his eyes off of my dick.
When Mike's shorts hit the floor, I got a surprise. He wasn't wearing
underwear. He had on something else.
"What's that," I asked, pointing to the white thing that held his
privates?
"That's a jock," he answered. "Haven't you ever seen one before?
"No," I replied.
"Athletes wear them," Mike continued. "They keep your dick and your
balls protected during sports. Here, feel that." He tapped the front of
his jock.
I shuffled forward, my shorts still around my ankles. I touched the
jock. It was hard.
"That's my cup," he added. "If I get hit there, it protects me."
I took my hand away and stood back waiting for him to remove it. He
took hold of the white strap at the top of his jock and started to lower
it. It took him a long time. He seemed reluctant to expose himself to me.
As his jock slid down, a thin patch of hair came into view. It was
lighter in color than the darker hair on his belly - not black and not
blonde like his hair. As more of him was uncovered, I saw that the patch
of hair covered the base of his dick. He slipped his jock farther down and
I could see that the patch of hair did not go any farther. As his dick
became fully exposed, I could see that the under side of the base was
hairless. I had a sudden urge and reached out. I ran my fingers through
the wispy patch of hair. Mike pulled back for a second then allowed me to
finger his hair. I could see another shudder as it passed through him.
"N..n..n..oooooo one has ever touched me there," he stammered.
"Don't you like it," I asked.
His face went beet red as he nodded his approval. I fondled the light
hair for a few seconds longer, then stepped back. I wanted to see the rest
of him. Regaining his composure, Mike slid his jock down to the floor. He
stood up and I studied him. His dick was different than mine. The skin
did not covered the head.
"Your dick looks funny," I said.
"No it doesn't," Mike shot back. "It's just that I am circumcised and
you're not."
"What is circumcised," I asked?
"When I was a baby, the doctor cut the skin off the end of my dick."
"Why would they do that," I asked?
"My mom said that it makes it easier to clean."
"I'm glad they didn't cut mine," I said.
"It doesn't make any difference," Mike said. "There are lots of boys
who are cut - a lot more than those who are not cut."
"How do you know that," I asked?
"Because we take showers in gym."
Mike had just started junior high school as a grade seven. I was
still back in elementary school. We didn't have showers after gym. The
idea of Mike showering with all those naked boys made me jealous - and
excited.
As we continued to stare at each other, I thought I saw an almost
imperceptible swelling in Mike's dick. Having probably had more sexual
experiences at eight than Mike had at thirteen, I was not shy. I stepped
forward again and placed my fingers on Mike's patch of hair. I ran it
between my fingers. Mike didn't try to stop me. In fact, he closed his
eyes and just stood perfectly still.
"Can I touch it," I asked?
"What," he asked?
"Your dick," I whispered.
His eyes came open and he looked around as if someone might be
watching. I knew we were alone, as both his parents worked on Saturday.
Mike closed his eyes again, not answering. I took that as a yes. My
fingers brushed the based of his penis where it hid amongst his hair. I
touched very lightly, as I was afraid of scaring him.
The tips of my fingers touched either side of his dick and very slowly
edged down its length. He was the same size as me. Even the same
thickness. My fingers reached the dividing line where his skin ended from
his circumcision. I traced around the faint scar line. His dick was
starting to come to life. Every few seconds, a spasm would run through it,
causing it to grow slightly. It was starting to lift away from his sac.
My fingers played along the scar line then past it. The skin here was
a different color - pinker and smoother - almost transparent. There were
veins visible just under the surface. I delayed my touching of his head
for as long as possible. I did not want Mike getting nervous and ending
our game. I had dreamed of this moment since the day he arrived.
Slowly my fingers brushed closer and closer to the flared edge at the
base of his head. Without Mike being aware of my movement, I knelt down in
front of him. I was now at eye level with the head of his dick. It was
similar to mine, but maybe a little flatter and broader. I looked down at
my own head, protruding from my foreskin. Mine was a pinkish purple.
Mike's tended more towards a reddish brown. My head was longer than Mike's
but slimmer. His broad head flared out from his pee hole and continued to
broaden until it formed a large ridge that stuck out from his shaft. My
ridge did not stick out that far.
As my fingers brushed the underside of this ridge, a shudder ran
through Mike's body. I could see his fists clench and for a moment thought
he was going to hit me. His eyes remained closed. His dick was standing
out well away from his sac.
After brushing the ridge with my finger tips, I moved up over its edge
and towards his pee hole. I ran a finger along its short length. My
finger encountered a light stickiness. Was Mike able to shoot cream like
Pete? I hoped so. Bringing my finger to my lips, I tasted the stickiness.
It was not as salty as Pete's. The flavor was slightly sweeter.
My fingers pursed together so that their ends formed a small round
opening. I placed my four fingers and my thumb against the end of Mike's
dick and slid them towards the base. My fingers automatically increased
their separation, allowing them to reach all the way to the ridge and over
it. I slid my fingers back gently to his tip then back down over the ridge
again.
As my fingers slipped up and down his dick, lightly massaging it, my
other hand wandered down its underside. I found the skin where his sac
joined the based of his penis. I pressed my fingers into the area on
either side of his shaft. I massage his shaft deeply where it disappeared
back into his body. Mike's hard dick was now sticking straight out from
his body.
My fingers massaged downward until they found his large nuts resting
inside their protective sheath. I took first one, then the other between
my fingers - rolling and massaging them. Mike started to breath harder
now. I squeezed and massaged his eggs until he started to moan.
Continuing my finger stroking on his penis, I stood up. I pushed Mike over
to the weight bench. In one motion, I sat him down and laid him lengthwise
on the bench. His butt cheeks were barely on the bench. Half of his butt
was hanging in mid-air.
I had got this far without Mike stopping me. How much farther could I
go. As I stroked him and contemplated my next move, a vision of Pete
appeared before my eyes.
He looked old and sad. I felt a twinge of guilt. I owed Pete a lot. He
had cared for me. He had also taught me a lot and given me experiences and
feelings that few eight year olds had ever had.
And, if not for Pete, I probably would not be here with the boy of my
dreams. Everything I did with Mike, was something Pete had taught me. So,
what would Pete do next?
Not having to think any more, I shifted my fingers to Mike's hard
shaft. I placed my lips lightly onto his swollen head. As my lips rested
on his smooth head, I slipped my tongue along his slit. My tongue came
away with another taste of his juice. I savored the sweetness, hoping for
more.
As my lips rested on his head and my fingers stroked him, his head
pushed against my lips. His hips were starting to move in a slow,
thrusting motion. He was not moving a lot; just enough for me to notice.
I spread my lips apart and allowed them to slide over his head, stopping
just before I slipped over the ridge. My tongue danced around his head;
licking; flicking; teasing his swollen knob. Mike was moaning. His hands
reached for my head and his fingers entwined in my hair. Gently, he tried
to push me farther onto his throbbing dick. I held my ground, wanting to
make this last. Right now, Mike was not in control of his thoughts or
emotions. I was in control and I knew it. Given time to think, Mike might
decide that he wasn't comfortable with another boy - and I might never have
this opportunity again.
I slipped my lips down over the ridge. My mouth started to move in an
up and down motion. My lips and tongue caressing his swollen red head as
they moved up and down over it. My other hand stroked Mike's sac and the
two large eggs that nestled inside.
My fingers ventured under his sac and played along the slight ridge that
ran back to his cheeks. I massaged this area deeply and firmly. In
response, Mike moaned and lifted his legs up and apart. My fingers reached
his firm cheeks. They squeezed and massaged the golden muscular bubbles of
flesh.
Removing my mouth from its up and down caressing of Mike's head, I
turned my attention to his shaft. I licked around the underside of his
ridge. Pushing his dick forward, I licked the area where his head seemed
to split and join a small ridge of flesh. Mike moaned loudly. He released
his grip on my hair. His legs pulled tight up against his body. He cupped
them tightly with his hands and held them to his body.
I couldn't help but notice that this movement had raised his bum off
the bench; spreading his cheeks and exposing his pinkish brown puckered
hole. As my mouth worked the underside of his shaft, my fingers wandered
up and down the crack between his cheeks. Occasionally, they would wander
across his poop hole and Mike would shudder. Tiring of flirting with his
pink bud, my fingers came to rest upon it.
With one finger, I massaged the puckered circle. Mike's hips were
moving as he rocked back and forth on the bench. My mouth and tongue
worked and played down the length of Mike's hard shaft. Reaching his bag,
I was able to suck in one egg at a time. It was a tight fit in my small
mouth, but the noises Mike made told me I was not wasting my time. I
sucked deeply on each nut, almost swallowing it before finally releasing it
from my mouth.
In order to keep Mike occupied while I prepared for an assault on his
back door, I grasped his swollen rod with one hand and stroked its full
length in a smooth up and down motion. My fingers slipping up over the
head, caressing it, before descending once again to the base. As I did
this, my mouth and tongue continued their journey. The area below Mike's
sac and in between his cheeks had a musky, sweaty odor. I breathed it in
deeply, wanting to remember it.
Nearing my goal, I tongued along the line that led to Mike's puckered
hole. The movement of Mike's body told me he was getting close to cumming.
I had to hurry. My lips reached his hole and rounded it. I sucked gently,
wetting the opening. I pushed my little tongue against it, tasting as I
licked. I cannot describe the taste. It was a mixture of flavors that set
my mouth tingling. I pushed my tongue into the center of the tight ring.
I am not sure whether I heard Mike's gasp or whether I just felt it through
his body. He continued to hold his legs up allowing me the freedom to
explore.
My tongue pushed at his tight ring, wetting it and forcing it to open.
I managed to slip inside and gain access to his moist tunnel. I pushed my
tongue in as far as it would go. I stroked his insides with my tongue.
Mike was rocking his body back and forth, making it difficult for me to
maintain my mouth lock on his tight ring.
I was out of time. If I wanted to taste his boy cum, I was going to
have to stop what I was doing. Not wanting to leave his backside
unattended - and knowing the pleasure it would add when he came - I removed
my mouth and slipped two fingers into his tight hole. As I massaged his
insides, I returned my mouth to his swollen head. It had swollen more
since I had left it. At this point, I was sure he was bigger than me; by a
little bit anyway.
My mouth closed over Mike's throbbing head. I sucked it and then
slipped as far down the shaft as I could go. I gagged a couple of times
but managed to take in enough that his hairs tickled my nose. Getting used
to his length and thickness, I moved up and down his shaft; stopping each
time I reached his head; tickling his head with my tongue; sucking it hard;
then plunging back to his hair, again. My fingers continued to plunge in
and out of his bum hole.
I felt him swelling in my mouth. I tasted more of his juice now as he
prepared to shoot. I worked on his erection, anticipating the gift that he
was about to deliver into my mouth. I didn't have to wait long. His hips
thrust his hard dick down my throat. His tight ring clamped down on my
fingers. He moaned loudly as the first load launched itself from deep in
his balls. It shot out with a force that almost pushed me off his head. I
swallowed deeply sucking his hot juice down my throat. It was creamy and
sweet with only a hint of saltiness. I sucked on him and was rewarded with
the next blast. The sweet cream filled my mouth and I swallowed it down
like I was starving.
Load after load pumped from his swollen nuts; up his hard shaft; out
through his hole and into my mouth. As Mike collapsed on the bench, I
sucked every drop from his dick. I wasn't going to waste or miss one drop.
Mike panted and choked for breath. Having drained him of all his cream, I
sucked him gently until he started softening. Releasing my fingers from
his tight bum, I stood up. I lay down on top of Mike. My hard erection
pressing against his softening dick. As we lay chest to chest, I could
feel his heart pounding. He still had his eyes closed.
I wanted to kiss him but I was afraid. Pete had told me that not all
men or boys liked the idea of doing it with another man or boy. They might
enjoy it at the time, but might later regret it. Pete had explained things
to me like "queer", "fag", "homo" and "bisexual". I didn't know what I
was, but I knew I liked being with Pete and now Mike. Pete had said that
most queers hid it from everyone as most people thought it was bad. I
didn't care if I was queer or a fag. It didn't feel bad to me.
Overwhelmed by my experience with Mike, I threw caution to the wind.
I kissed his small, red lips. His eyes opened, and he stared at me. There
was a look of panic in his eyes. I didn't care. I pushed my tongue
between his lips. I found his tongue and caressed it with my own. Mike
closed his eyes and gave in. He accepted my kisses and even started to
return them. After a few seconds or maybe minutes, Mike's warm tongue was
in my mouth. He put his arms around me and squeezed me tightly, causing me
to gasp for breath. He was definitely stronger than me.
We lay there in each others arms. Even though I had not yet been
relieved of the pressure in my nuts and hard dick, I was strangely
satisfied. I had brought to this boy the pleasures that I had learned so
well. His satisfaction was enough more me - for now. I had found a new
friend in more ways than one.
I thought of my times with Pete. My feelings, at this moment were the
same as I had shared with Pete. It wasn't just sex we shared. We shared a
warm bond of love. And, I felt the same thing for Mike. I wanted to be
with him, like this, forever.
**************************
Yes, there will be a Part Three. If you like this or have any comments,
email me:
chub_bi@hotmail.com