Date: Sun, 12 Dec 1999 23:32:55 EST
From: Mojac27@aol.com
Subject: Adult Youth Archives; 'Mitch's Homecoming' {Mojac27@aol.com} (Mb con
    oral)

    All usual disclaimers apply.  This is a work of fiction and no
resemblance to anyone is intended or implied. Please do no read this if it is
not legal to do so where you are.  This is my first posting in the
adult/youth category.  I welcome feedback and criticism at the above address.
If you like this story, you may enjoy "The Note" in the highschool archive.
Thanks in advance for your comments.
Mojac


    I had not been there for long, only about fifteen minutes, but the party
was already two hours underway.  Not planning to arrive so much later than
everyone else, my connecting flight was delayed because of deer on the
runway.  It was more than just a few deer and the animal rights activists
came to join them at the airport to protest the mass infiltration on the
deer's natural habitat.  At any other time I would have easily sympathized
with their cause, but they were causing my plane to be delayed and I cursed
them.  So did the other 21 passengers on the small plane.

    We were to make it to Springfield where I planned to catch the taxi to
836 Locust Avenue, the new home of my friend Jake.  Of course I was excited
to finally see Jake and his wife of 15 years.  Rebecca was such a sweet lady
and had it not been for my timidness in college where the three of us spent
four long years of our life, I'm certain Rebecca would be wearing my ring
instead of Jake's.  But, that is old news and I regret nothing.  Jake
deserves her and together they are happy and proud of their three children.

    Jake and I met as roommates the first year at State.  He was a natural
athlete and had the body and attitude to go with it.  Baseball was our sport
and he and I played on the college's team.  We were both equal in our
athletic ability, but Jake just seemed to make plays effortlessly.  We
remained roomies for the first year of school, but were split up our second
year.  Thankfully though, we were back together the last two years.  We had
so much in common, it was unreal.  Hell, we got along better than even I did
with my own brothers.  We had a blast those four years.

    Rebecca came into our lives our junior year.  It was late in the semester
at a spring dorm party in our building.  We both warmed to her immediately,
but I always deferred to Jake, allowing him to make the first move on a new
girl.  I look back now and know that I was only afraid of rejection.
Secretly it made me feel better to know that if Jake was turned down, I was
spared the embarrassment of it happening to me.  They hit it off right away
and the rest, as they say, is history.

    After graduation, Jake and Rebecca said their vows and he took an entry
level job with channel seven as an associate to the associate producer.
Rebecca got pregnant right way with their oldest, Corey.  It was not until
after Corey turned three that she started her home-based business as a real
estate consultant.

    Jake and I had both majored in broadcasting, but whereas he was more
comfortable behind the scenes, I somehow felt more at ease in front of a
microphone.  WBOM FM 103 picked me up right away and put me on the grave yard
shift.  I deejayed for "The bomb" for about ten years before moving 1500
miles away.  I had not been back to Springfield since leaving WBOM and I was
eager to see Jake and Rebecca, but when they answered the door, I could tell
they were just as elated as I was and both bombarded me for information.  Why
was I late; how have I been; how's work; the usual conversation when you have
not seen someone for four years.  Jake shook my hand heartily and ushered me
inside.

    "Come in.  Come in," he said.  "Here, have a drink.  Jack and Coke,
right?"

    "Yeah, make it a tall one," I told him.  "I have two hours of catching up
to do."

    "No doubt.  Man, you look great!  I thought most DJs just got fat and
ugly," he teased.

    "Nah, just the ones spinning classical music."

    "Hey, Corey, I need a JD and Coke.  Make it a tall one for Mitch," Jake
yelled over the din of the crowd.  I casually looked the room over and
recognized a few of the faces here and there.  I stopped looking though when
I saw Corey.  At 14 he looked just as he had looked at ten, only better.  His
young body had leaped into adolescence and one could tell that he had reaped
only the best qualities from his parents.  His resemblance to a teenage Jake
was uncanny.

    "Right away, Dad," I heard him shout and within seconds, his lithe body
was negotiating the crowd and his hand was pushing the tumbler into mine.
"Hi, Uncle Mitch," the boy said.  "I thought you forgot about us."  He was
grinning widely.

    "I know kid," I explained.  "I just been super busy at work."

    Over the next hour I filled them in on the major news since our last
conversation on the phone.  I told them Kate was doing well and so was Mitch
Jr.  He had just started first grade and acted like he ran the household.
Corey blushed when Jake said he could relate to having a little man in the
house who tried to act older.  Corey punched his dad in the arm after the
accusation.  Just then I caught Corey's eye and his smile widened.

    Corey knew he was my favorite of Jake's kids.  Oh, I adored ten year old
Mark and their little sister Ashley, who had just turned eight last month,
but Corey was already ten years old when I left and he remembered the fun
times we had when I still lived in Springfield.  Most of the time Corey and I
would go fishing or I would escort him to the public pool where we would
splash around and I delighted in seeing his dolphinesque grace under water.
Almost daily during the summer, he would tag along to the radio station and
help me with the routine.  I remember once I even let him run the show for
about an hour, answering the phones, playing the music, basically just being
a ham.  The listeners loved it, but the Program Director did not, so Corey
was silenced, never to be on air again.  Fortunately since I had been there
for so long, I was not reprimanded, just told it was not a very good idea to
put a kid on air.  I thought differently.

    Soon the alcohol was catching up with me and one by one, I noticed the
others were leaving.  Eventually it was just Jake, Rebecca, Corey and me and
a few stragglers reluctant to call it quits.  By 12:30 even they had left,
bidding farewell and good luck with the new house.

    Jake asked where I would be staying and I told him that I had made
reservations for my stay at the Ritz near the airport.  "Well, tonight," he
said, "you're staying here.  You can have Corey's bed and he can sleep in
Mark's room.  Corey, why don't you go change the sheets so your Uncle Mitch
has a clean place to crash."

    "I knew he'd be staying, Dad so I changed them this morning when I got
up.  I even cleaned my room."

    "All right, then.  Mitch, you don't mind staying I hope.  What's your
plans for tomorrow?" he asked.  I explained that my visit was two fold.  I
was scheduled to attend a three day advertising seminar and that I would need
to be at the airport by 9:30 am for registration.  "Perfect," he said, "I'll
drop you off on my way to the station and you can get with me later, maybe do
lunch."

    Jake's hands had been all over Rebecca for the last hour and every so
often I glanced at the once familiar bulge between Jake's legs.  To this day
I do not know if it was the alcohol or lust, but I was hit with the worst
primal urge to once again be with Jake.  I knew that I could not and that
only heightened the desire.  Willing to let them get on with their evening in
private, I bade all good night and asked Corey to show me to my quarters.

    "Right this way, good Sir," the boy quipped, exaggerating his graceful
bow.  He quickly turned and padded toward a dark hallway.  I was a few steps
behind him and delighted in watching his small round butt dance in his
sweatpants.  He had ditched his shirt and shoes but had on his socks which
were bunched around his ankles.  Taking a long look at him from behind
starting with the top of his head to his socked feet, my lust for his father
quickly turned into lust for him.

    His movements were confident.  From the way he held his head to the
squareness of his shoulders and the strut in his walk, one could sense that
Corey was extremely comfortable with himself.  This was a quality I lacked
when I was his age and I envied him for displaying such confidence, but I
also recognized that quality in Jake when I first met him.  How similar young
Corey was to his father.

    We turned left into his new bedroom.  He flicked on the light and I
chuckled out loud at his futile attempt to "clean" his room.  Yes, the bed
was freshly made, but a pile of dirty clothes was splayed at the foot of the
bed and another just to the left of the door.  His computer desk was filled
with Dorito's bags and Coke cans.  Magazines were strewn about the room.  A
baseball glove and soccer ball were stashed in one corner, while a hockey
stick and roller blades occupied another.  I sat on the bed testing the
mattress.  I asked, "So this is clean, huh?"

    Grinning, he said, "Sure.  Look, I even vacuumed."  He had in fact run a
sweeper over the carpet, expertly dodging the various piles of obstacles and
clutter on the floor.  He tossed the half full bag of chips at me and I
washed down a mouthful with my watered down drink.  As I ate, Corey knelt in
front of me.  "Now you are the guest, Uncle Mitch.  Let me get these shoes
off for you and then I'll be on my way.  But if you need anything at all,
I'll be on the bottom bunk, so don't get us confused and wake him up.  Don't
worry though, he sleeps like a log so if you come to get me for something, he
won't wake up," he said.

    He was looking me straight in the eyes when he told me that and I felt he
was flirting with me.  Could he see through me that way, knowing what I
longed for?  Had he not exchanged the words "anything" and "something" I
asked myself.  Both of my shoes were off before I could answer my own
question.  He asked, "Where's your suitcase?"

    "It's still in the foyer," I told him, and within ten seconds flat, he
had sped out of his bedroom, sprinted through the house and returned with my
luggage.  Throwing the case onto the bed, he opened it and rummaged through,
finding a pair of my silk boxer shorts.

    "Here, wear these, Uncle Mitch," he said.

    "Corey, I brought pajamas as you well know.  They are the ones you threw
here on the floor."  I had them in my hands and he took them from me.

    "Oh these," he said, again throwing them to the floor. "Those things are
too stuffy.  You'll be more comfortable in these," he said holding out the
boxers, stretching the elastic to its limits.

    "Shouldn't I know what I'll be more comfortable in, Young Man?" I asked.

    "No," he said flatly, still grinning from ear to ear, exposing teeth so
bright they looked fresh out of a toothpaste commercial.  "See, it gets hot
in here, Uncle Mitch.  Dad says the airflow is messed up because of the duct
work or something like that.  They ain't gonna fix it 'til next week.  So put
these on and I'll see you later," he said, and strolled across the room to
the door.  He turned off the overhead light and closed the door.  I was
curious as to why he had said, "See you later" instead of "See you tomorrow"
or "Good night, Uncle Mitch."  Turning over and pulling up the sheet, I
dismissed the notion that I might indeed see Corey again before day break.



    I was disoriented at first, awakening in an unfamiliar setting.
Thankfully the clock was bright enough to cast at least a dim glow,
illuminating the door knob; it read 2:07.  I had not been asleep even two
hours yet, but I awoke in dire need of the bathroom.  Stumbling across the
bedroom in darkness, I tripped over my shoes.  Not wanting to wake the
household, I felt my way along the hall and into the bathroom.  After closing
the door, I was able to turn on the light and groggily, I relieved myself.

    Momentarily blinded after turning off the light, I made my way back to
Corey's room and settled back into bed.  I was keenly aware of the smell of
the boy's room.  It was the familiar smell of adolescence, an intoxicating
blend of musky yet sweet odors composed of sweat socks and stale farts.  It
was not at all unpleasant.  Realizing that Corey was right, I decided to
leave the door open and let in some cooler air.  I glanced across the hall,
and seeing Mark's door was closed, I slept.



    Jake and I were in my old Dodge, cruising the country side looking for
the party site.  The rows of corn suddenly gave way to a small lake
surrounded by colorful flowers.  Then we were floating, Jake on his back
spread eagle, my eager lips pursed at the tip of his penis.  I was
hesitating, but did not know why.  I wanted to suck it as I had many times
before.  The dick winked at me and became Corey's face, his eyes so much like
Rebecca's, I looked away.  Hearing Rebecca's voice, I looked back and waited
for her to scold me as she had done many years before when she had caught
Jake and me in our dorm room worshipping each other's penis.  I looked down
in shame and saw Corey kneeling between my legs.  He was looking at me
expectantly and then stuck his hand in my crotch, squeezing my erection.  I
looked into the sun and felt the mouth engulf my dick.  the sun started
spinning as the warmth in my crotch spread throughout my body.  So awesome
was the feeling that I awoke.  I squinted at the clock and noticed the top
sheet was crumpled near my feet.  I reached down to pull it up when I saw
something move across the room.  My heart leapt.  Quickly, I turned on the
light to see Corey standing at the foot of the bed.

    "Corey!  My God, you scared me, Kid.  What are you doing up at this hour?"

    "Shhh, Uncle Mitch," he whispered looking over his shoulder into the
hall, "you wouldn't want to wake up Ashley would you?"

    "No," I answered, not at all sure why I would not.  Lowering my voice, I
once again asked what the boy was doing up at such a late hour.

    "I was just checking on you, Uncle Mitch.  Making sure you wasn't dead or
something.  You looked all hot and sweaty and you was squirming around
rolling your head back and forth, so I pulled the sheet off you so you could
cool off.  Uncle Mitch, can I tell you something?"

    "Sure," I said, "but then you have to get back in bed so I can go to
sleep.  I have to be at the hotel early this morning for a meeting."

    "You sure you won't get mad, Mitch?"

    "Why would I get mad," I asked, a tone of worry in my voice.

    "Will you?" he pleaded.

    "No, of course not Corey, What's on your mind?"

    "Well," he said shyly, his eyes piercing in their intenseness, "just now
I saw that you had your hand down between your legs."

    It was my turn to blush and I glanced down at my dick, the head of which
was just shrinking into the fly of the boxer shorts.  "I must have been
dreaming, Corey," I said, covering my lower half with the sheet.  Still,
Corey's eyes bore through me.  As I thought about it, I realized that from
the first time Corey saw me last night, he had not taken his eyes off me.
With the exception of trips to the bathroom or to the bar for a refill, the
kid had literally watched my every move.  As the last six hours worth of
events floated through my head, it was becoming obvious that Corey was
infatuated with me.  All through the evening he had been beside me, laughing
at all my jokes and anecdotes, and ignoring his father's pleas for him to
retire for the night.  Oddly enough, I had responded to him without even
realizing I was doing so.  As the night wore on, my stories became more and
more about Corey and our time together before I moved.  Corey had early on
found his seat beside me on the sofa, and later on the floor between my
knees.  Several times he would laugh out loud, throwing his head into my lap
behind him, his chestnut colored hair draped over my thighs.

    "Was it a sex dream, Uncle Mitch?" he asked.

    "Actually, yes," I told him.

    "I'll bet I was in it, wasn't I?" he asked flatly.  The boldness of his
question, which was more of a statement, threw me.

     I replayed as much of the dream in my mind as I could remember and
thought I was being honest when I said, " No, Corey.  You were not."

    "Yes, I was," he said defiantly, a look of mischief on his face.  "That's
what woke me up, Uncle Mitch.  I heard somebody calling my name, 'Corey, oh
Corey,' and I opened up Mark's door and seen yours was open so I just came in
to see what you wanted.  And there you were with your dick in your hand
jacking off."
Corey suppressed a giggle, but to my relief sat next to me on the bed.

    I was still thinking of an excuse to explain my behavior but Corey kept
prodding me.  "So what was I doing in your dream, Mitch?"

    I was not lying when I told him, "I don't know."  I truly had no memory
of what I had dreamed, at least not the part he wanted me to recall.

    Corey leaned into me, his lips only inches from my ear.  In a barely
audible voice, he whispered, "I bet it was about when we used to go fishing.
You know, when I caught all them bass, you went 'Corey!  Your dad's gonna be
so proud of you when you get home.'  I bet that's what you were dreaming
about, huh Mitch?"

    The truth be known, it could have been what I was dreaming, but I was too
preoccupied by the assault to my senses this boy was producing.  The
electricity flowed from his left thigh to my right thigh.  I could feel his
breath on my ear and smell it as it enveloped my face.  It was the sweet and
sour smell of toothpaste and sleep.  But Corey was very much awake and
apparently so was his penis which was pointing straight toward his belly
button.  Seeing this, my dick gave a quick jerk and stretched to its full
size.  Luckily Corey could not see my erection hidden under the sheet.

    I stared at his crotch, absorbed by the way the shaft stretched the
fabric of his gray sweat pants, already two sizes too small.  Corey pressed
his leg harder into mine.  He was breathing harder, labored.  Each gust of
warm breath tickled my skin, feeling like a thousand feathers dancing on my
face.  I turned to face him and he closed his eyes.  Corey's lips parted
slightly and he flicked his tongue, wetting his thick boy lips.  "He wants to
be kissed," is all I could think.  Before I could make the decision, Corey
leaned forward, touching his lips to mine.  However slight, contact was made.
 I froze.  Corey opened his eyes and saw me just staring at him.  It was his
turn to be embarrassed, not knowing what I was thinking.  He was not the only
one.

    Hours before I had lusted for the boy in a way more intense than I had
ever felt for his father.  Now I just sat there, torn between acting on that
lust and risking my career, Jake's friendship and possibly jail, or, I could
let the boy down easy and put him to bed.  Corey answered the question for me
with another kiss, a real kiss.  Our lips touched.  I traced my tongue
between his, rubbing the tip on his teeth and gums.  Corey's own tongue went
into action an I sucked it into my mouth, bringing a moan of excitement from
his throat.

    Corey turned his body to me and straddled my right knee.  I could feel
his hard penis pressing into my thigh.  Instinctively the boy rocked his hips
in a humping motion, the friction eliciting a spot of wetness at the tip of
his dick, soaking his sweatpants and my leg.  Hungrily we kissed while Corey
dry fucked my leg.  He was pushing into me with so much force that I lay back
on the bed.  Our mouths, by now numb, never separated and Corey lay on top of
me.  I opened my legs and Corey slipped his narrow hips between them.  He
groaned again as our two hard bulges pressed together.  My hands went to his
round butt and my fingers kneaded the hard flesh.  I let my thumbs find their
way under the elastic of his waistband and slowly I pulled down his pants.

    There was no groan, but an "Ouch," as his erection was caught in the
material and I had inadvertently bent it in a way it was not supposed to be
bent.  I apologized and we rolled over with me on top of him.  I looked down
at him.  We both knew that he was lost in this new experience.  I sensed that
he needed me to finish what he had started.

    Truthfully, I was not sure I was up to the challenge.  I had not made
love to a boy in years.  In fact, as I remember, the last boy I shared my bed
with was this one's father.  I need not have second guessed myself, however,
because obviously Corey had faith in my ability.

    He reached up and pulled my head toward him.  We again embraced in a kiss
and while I turned off the bedside lamp, Corey groped my crotch for the first
time.  His inexperienced hands pulled off my boxers and together we were
naked.  My penis wedged itself beside his and we soon were rocking in tempo.
The friction of our skin mutually bringing each other dangerously close to
orgasm.  I did not want to come that way, and although it felt exquisite, I
stopped the rub off after only a few minutes.  I answered Corey's protest by
licking my way from his chin to his button navel.  I could feel his hard dick
pulsing on my neck and shoulder.  When he realized my tongues' target, he
hastened my trip and pushed my head down into his musky fourteen year old
crotch.

    Not wanting to rush, I first nibbled on his thighs, lingering on the
sensitive ticklish spot between his sack and legs.  That excited him to no
end, his hips grinding uncontrollably, his head flailing with the good
feeling.  Still not touching his engorged penis, I suddenly sucked his entire
scrotum into my mouth.  With my tongue, I rolled his nuts around with such
vigor, I thought I could have swallowed them both.  I was obviously driving
Corey crazy and I could tell he was ready for release.  In one quick motion I
vacuumed his length into my mouth.  Corey shuddered and groaned with passion.

    With my nose buried in his new crop of golden hair, I simply held his
dick in my throat.  Corey tried unsuccessfully to hump my mouth; I was
teasing him, not letting him do so.  The boy lost all control of his body,
drawing his knees to his chest.  His feet settled on my shoulders and I
groaned with satisfaction.  Cupping Corey's balls in my left hand and
covering his mouth with my right, I bobbed my head only twice, meeting his
bucking hips and his twitching cock as he forcefully sprayed my throat with
his sperm.  The spray was thin and watery and tasted all too familiar.  I
swirled the liquid over my tongue, savoring its nutty flavor, as Corey's
shrinking penis slipped out of my mouth.

    Gradually, Corey's breath became normal, his twitching stopped.  He
opened his eyes.  I noticed his frown and it worried me; I thought I may have
went too far.  For once, the confidence so evident in Corey's stare, had
vanished.  The boy's eyes searched the room, glancing at everything except my
face.  I sat upright in shock, prepared to defend myself against the
pummeling of his fists or perhaps his yells for Jake.  For a seeming
eternity, he avoided eye contact.

    Corey, propped on his elbows and finally his gaze settled on my spit
covered face.  I shamefully looked down at his dick, only to see it begin to
stretch in length.  When I again looked at Corey's face, the frown was
replaced by a mischievous smirk.

    "Now do you remember what you were dreaming about?" he asked, delighted
to be toying with my emotions so.  I had to chuckle as it all came back to me
vividly.