Date: Wed, 27 Jun 2001 15:58:50 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._Jordan@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: MY DENNIS 7

 My Dennis Copyright c.e. jordan
c.e._jordan@mailandnews.com
____________________________


"Eroticism is in the conscience of man
Which questions his being"
---George Bataille
*******
"From love we come
According to love we are created
To love we are inclined
To love we devote ourselves"
---George Bataille
*******
"The loved one equals,
for the lover and only for the lover
the truth of the being"
---Ibn Arabi
*******

         MY DENNIS 7: Beginnings, And A Shower of Coca Cola


     My life turned on end the moment D showed up at my door that summer.
Taller than a regular nine-year-old and instantly in charge. Right away
there was this weird 'something' happening between us...to be truthful, I
wasn't certain if I hated him or loved him...one moment he was insulting
me, the next he would do something that made me know he cared for
me. Perhaps D was just as confused as I was. He began calling me on the
phone from next door a dozen times a day. My mom thought he might be lonely
and needed a buddy to hang out with during the summer--she said I should be
nice and take care of him. We wound up taking care of each other.

     When I started writing about Dennis I thought it would be something
short and quickly done, so I compressed the story and introduced him at age
thirteen, but as I've said, he was actually much younger, just a lanky nine
year old when we first met. I have written mostly about the sensual
relationship between Dennis and myself because, in a way, this remains the
most incredible thing to happen in my life. It was certainly spectacular,
probably because it was my first real experience. It required me to let go
of my natural shyness and all I had taken for granted about love,
relationships, religion, and so on. D made a shambles of my reserve and my
vision of myself. To love him was to tear away at my own conservatism and
timidity. And I couldn't find any shelter at all in those books and
activities I'd used all my life to keep the 'real world' at a distance.
When I was with D he required me to be right there. In the moment. He
simply wouldn't recognize any intellectual subterfuge and would never
tolerate anything but total honesty. Perhaps that's because he was a
kid...or more likely because, unlike myself, he has always been direct,
practical, and possessed of uncommon good sense. Dennis was always a very
focused independent thinking person. I always knew he belonged to
himself--never to me. The only times he was ever totally mine was when he
was in my arms.

     Although it was always difficult for us to be together without
touching each other in some way, no 'real' intimacy happened until he was
almost thirteen. When he was eleven, he demanded to live with his mother
full-time, mainly because he couldn't stand to leave me again. Before that,
I would only see him in the Summertime when he stayed with his mom in the
apartment next door to mine. Usually, the last two weeks before going home
to the West Coast was spent travelling in Europe with a chaperon and a few
other children.

                           *********

     The Summer Dennis and I met, our first 'date' was to see a movie at
our neighborhood theatre.

     When we were walking home after the movie, like the bothersome kid he
was, he just had to pee, and he had to do it right away! There was nowhere
for him to go except in a little alley we discovered between two
buildings. So he pulled out his chubby pink-headed mousie and went right
there. It was a Sunday and not many folks were around. Dennis giggled to
himself as he made patterns on the dusty wall with his yellow stream. When
he was done, it seemed he didn't want to put it away, and just fiddled with
it sticking out of his pants. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to stare. But I
believe he must have wanted me to see. I think he was teasing me even
then. His little thing was already half-up from his playing with it.

     Oddly, even though we'd first met only a few days earlier, a strange
hothouse aura of sensuality had already developed between us. I had no idea
what caused it or what to do about it. But sometimes, when we were
together, this... `thing' hung in the air so thick and heavy we could
barely talk and we could hardly bring ourselves to look directly at each
other. It was as if we were afraid that if we allowed ourself to say the
wrong thing, or make a wrong move, some unknowable something would flash
into being and consume us. Much later, D told me that when we were together
in those early days, he always felt "hungry", as he put it, not for food,
but for something he couldn't quite put into words. I understood perfectly.

     In the dark theatre earlier that Sunday, I'd felt D's right hand fall
casually on my leg.  It rested there for a moment and the movie all but
disappeared from in front of my eyes. The only thing I could think of at
the time, was that small intruder resting on my left leg. Then, gradually,
it began creeping up and down my thigh. In my head I yelled, 'This isn't
happening, this isn't happening, this isn't...'

     But it certainly was happening.

     D noticed I didn't pull away or say anything about what he was doing,
I think I was holding my breath--and soon his touch became a gentle regular
stroking from my knee up to near my crotch. Eventually, he leaned his head
on my shoulder and quit moving his hand, but left it resting there with his
fingers occasionally making a sort of scratching movement. His nails made a
dull sound against the denim of my blue jeans.  Later on I was brave enough
to slip that busy little hand into mine. In the dark, our fingers laced
together and stayed like that throughout the movie. I can't even remember
what the darned movie was about.

     So, there he was after the movie, out on the street, a slim, tall boy,
dressed in his little blue shorts and baggy SpiderMan T-shirt-- with his
penis sticking out of his pants.  It was funny. It also made my heart
race. But somebody was approaching. So I said to him, "That's okay D, keep
your thingy hanging out there if you want, but don't come cryin' to me when
that big black rat in the corner jumps up and takes a bite out of it."

     He quickly stuffed it back into his pants and ran out the alley. D
hates rats.


                           *********

     The memory of his touch that day, his twisty slender body, and his
chubby half-hard nine-year-old dick remained a potent image in my head to
be exorcised in the middle of the night in the most delightful ways.

                           *********

    At the end of this first Summer, Dennis was finally going home. He was
out in the corridor with his family about to leave for the airport.

     They'd already begun walking down the hall in the opposite direction
from my apartment when I saw D look back towards my door then say something
to his grandmother, and then he took off running back towards my door which
I opened before he even reached it. I saw him coming because I was waiting
and watching through the peephole in my door, hoping to see him one last
time as he left. I know it was pitiful, but I was heartsick that I wouldn't
be seeing him for another whole year. Suppose he forgot all about me?
Dennis had already said goodbye on the phone that morning, but I guess he
must have needed to see me in person as much as I'd wanted to see him

     Anyway, I let Dennis come inside instead of talking to him at the
door.  He was nicely dressed in a soft creamy shirt, and he even wore a
tie. And for the first time he seemed at a loss for words. He leaned back
against the wall next to the door.  I said, "You look really nice D." And I
was rewarded with a wan smile. "So...you gonna come back next year?" I
asked.

     "I think so."

     "Well, you'd better come back D, who else am I gonna get to torment
me, and beat me up, and cuss at me?"

     He allowed a sad little grin at that, but still didn't say anything.

     His grandmother was calling him from outside, "D we are going to be
late for the plane."

     "Oh...I gotta go now...." He kept looking at me, then stuck out his
hand for a handshake. He looked so formal, serious--and seriously cute,
that even tho' I felt really awful I had to grin a little bit.

     He turned to leave and reached for the doorknob. His mom and
grandmother were both calling from the hallway, "D, we gotta go...now!"

     Then he spun around to face me once more and I felt my arms opening to
him and then he was suddenly holding me tightly with his face pressed hard
into my chest. Then he was out the door and gone.

                         ***********

     Another summer, three years later I looked down at twelve year old
Dennis as he lay bare-chested among the remnants of our play. My bed was
scattered with cards--a King of hearts here, a Queen of spades there, and
the ten of clubs sticking out from under his bare leg. It was already after
one-thirty in the morning at my apartment and Dennis was having a rare
moment of inactivity. He just lay with his arms and legs splayed out like a
golden-brown doll someone had just tossed there. At that moment I knew I
needed him like crazy. To divert my thoughts, I started to tickle him and
his giggles filled my bedroom with boyish happiness. He twisted, and turned
and arced up off the bed. "Stop.....stop it, Charles..." he yelled. But
each time I stopped he would throw himself at me, so I knew he really liked
the game.

     He was wearing only the bottom half of his shorty pyjamas. It had
funny clowns on it. I was wearing a longer plain blue pj bottom, but
nothing else. Dennis attacked me again, but for once I was winning this
little struggle. As I attempted to tickle his belly my fingers accidentally
hooked into the elastic waist of his pants. He squirmed and the pants
dragged down over his hips. I laughed, "Hey, I should rip this thing right
off of you." I was kidding of course. But that wild light sparkled in D's
eyes again.  He twisted around some more and all of a sudden I was still
holding onto his pants, but it was around his ankles.  D kicked it off and
was free. He laughed and sang out, "Na Naa na Naa naa, you 'cant get
meee..."

     This skinny thing in his saggy underpants shining white against his
brown skin was so beautiful, it took my breath away. I froze staring at his
long slim legs, his arms....fingers...swollen nipples....

     While I gazed at him, stunned by all the feelings he aroused in me, he
launched another attack and easily dragged me down to wrestle with him. A
big bag of potato chips exploded under our weight when I landed on top of
him--actually between his legs. He made an "Ooof" sound, and I realized
why. My stomach hit directly against his crotch and bent something that
seemed quite unbendable.

     Suddenly we were no longer playing the same game. I pressed my lips
against D's chest and licked away salty residue from the potato chips now
scattered with the playing cards across the bed. The chips crunched in the
bedsheets beneath us but I didn't care. The boy had stopped struggling. He
sighed, and curled a leg around me. I wrapped my arms around his body and
pushed myself up until we were face to face.  As we looked into each
other's eyes, I knew that after waiting impatiently the last few years, the
big scary sensual 'thing', that unknowable monster always present when we
were together, had at last been set free.

     I found myself kissing Dennis...all over...his face, forehead, nose,
soft cheeks.  His mouth opened as if gasping for air...I realized he was
trying to call my name and was failing; his hips jerked upward trying to
rub against me. Our cocks were pressed hard together and suddenly we were
grinding and D was making all sorts of passionate small sounds. I have no
idea if I was making a noise or not, I was too busy being amazed by the
hard, hot tender touches of this small body trying to push its way right
into me. My hands clutched him, it was like I couldn't get a purchase on
this elusive boy body. I'd waited three years for this, to feel my lips on
this neck, to stroke this arm, and caress all along the smooth bare skin of
his side.

     Our forceful humping movements drove D relentlessly across the bed and
we were suddenly aware that his head was hitting the wall with a rhythmic,
'thump, thump, thump...' Without stopping our grinding motion D busted out
laughing.

     I whispered, "The....the....neighbors...must be wondering what the
hell we're doing."

     "Fuck them." Dennis said, direct as always.

     "Naw, I don't think I'll do that, those folks aren't all THAT
attractive..." I joked. But since I didn't want to knock the boy
unconscious, I dragged him away from the wall...causing his foot to tip an
uncorked extra-large bottle of Coca Cola from the night stand. The plastic
bottle bounced onto the bed and the remnants of the wine-coloured liquid
splashed on my side soaking my Pj bottoms Some of it made a pool on D's
bare stomach and soaked into his cotton underpants.

     We sat up and looked at each other for half a second before the
absurdity of our situation had us rolling about the bed screaming with
laughter. Damn the neighbors, they can think what they want. D grabbed the
potato chip bag, ripped it completely open and threw the remaining contents
up in the air to fall like confetti onto us and the bed. And when he picked
up the big Coke bottle I though he was going to put it back on the night
stand, instead he stuck his fingers in the open end and shook it up hard.

     "What are you doing D?" Was he really gonna do what I think he was
going to do?

     Of course he was! Giggling D let loose a spouting geyser of soda to
rain down on both of us. We were thoroughly wet, the bed was damp, our hair
and everything were covered in potato chip crumbs. The playing cards still
scattered on the bed had begun to stick to our skin. I peeled a Ten of
Hearts from D's chest as I started to take the bedclothes from the bed.

     "Hey, what're you doin'?" D asked.

     "I have to get some fresh sheets..." I began.

     "Oh no you don't, I like it just like this." And he pulled me back
down on himself to revel in our funky, humid, bed.

     It was a good decision, because the vague scent of Coca Cola became a
pervasive aphrodisiac in the room; my skin felt weird, ultra-sensitive; I
discovered the exciting feel of wet flesh slipping and sliding against
another. D's warm tongue lapped at my skin, and his puffy nipple was sugary
sweet when I sucked at it. I wanted to see him totally bare so I sat up
between his sticky legs. I had to forceably break away from him to do so. I
hooked my hands in the elastic of his soiled briefs, the front of which was
a hill the size of Mount Fuji. Well, not really, but to me it was. I looked
to his eyes for permission and found it there. I started peeling the damp
undies down. His hips shifted, and his legs raised with toes pointed
straight up at the ceiling allowing me to take the bit of clothing all the
way off. And then he was totally naked. I still wore my pyjama bottoms, but
not for long.

     D lay there catching his breath, and for the first time since he peed
in the alley that day on the way from the cinema, I saw his cock again. It
had grown considerably. I thought he was hairless, but when I moved my face
close I could see the beginning of delicate golden furze glowing against
his darker skin at the base of his rigid, steel-hard young penis. Nervous
and excited, I slowed down.  I looked as the smooth shiny organ before
me. It was the first time I'd been this close to another guy's penis. D's
looked different to mine. His had a bald pinkish head while mine still had
it's loose foreskin. I wondered if D's had gotten insensitive from always
being exposed like that. I gingerly touched it...another first for me. And
it leaped at my touch. So I guess it was still sensitive. I marveled that
the shaft could be so soft while remaining so rigid. It was strange that
despite my intimate familiarity with my own demanding appendage, this other
was a complete enigma to me. Somehow, it seemed only natural to take the
sweet hot head of it into my mouth. As my lips closed around it, D's body
jerked, "Ahhh....yeah!" he cried when my my teeth slid lightly over the
flared ridge that defined the head, and again when the tip of my tongue
investigated the large moist slit. I felt light headed and swoony. This was
unbelievable, something I'd never quite imagined, certainly not like this.

     Acting on instinct, Dennis's hips began a gentle thrusting movement;
his eyes closed and his hands were at either side of my head holding me
lightly, almost delicately as I moved up and down his smooth pole. I pulled
off. There was an inarticulate sound of protest and his fingers tightened
in my hair. But D relented as I slid back up his body. I lay on him and we
turned onto our sides. He reached for my pyjama bottom and together we got
it off my body. He sat up and just stared at my genitals. Then he was
running his fingers lightly all over my body. When those fingers came to my
penis, they handled it as if Dennis was a blind boy just discovering a most
remarkable object. It was all I could do to contain myself.

     "How come your skin's not all rough and hairy like other guys?" he
asked.  Actually, except for the hair on my head, I was smooth as he was,
with just the lightest hint of fuzz under my arms and a small dark patch on
my pubes. "I dunno....I just never had much....maybe body-hair doesn't run
in my family."

     His fingers continued to wander over my body. Each tap, stroke, and
touch, amplifying my unrestrained desire for him. I half rose to reach for
his cock that was still firm and pointed upward to his belly button. "No,
lie down on your front," he directed.  Dissapointed, but curious about what
he'd do next, I complied. A piece of potato chip that had somehow remained
crisp in the damp bed, snapped under my body. Dennis kneeled near me and he
brushed crumbs off my back as his hands continued to wander over my
shoulders then lower down my body. I heard him murmur to himself, "....so
smooth.."

     I started to rise again. But he ordered, "Stay right there." Dennis
threw a leg over my waist to straddle me. He sat facing backwards towards
my bottom which he proceeded to knead and caress lightly. I involuntarily
tightened and released my muscles back there. "Ohhh......you have dimples
on your butt!" He laughed.

     "I do?" I was honestly surprised. I had no idea what I looked like
from the back.  "Yeah.....they're cute." he said still laughing.

     That was interesting to know, and I giggled to myself, I didn't think
of my butt very often--almost never, and I certainly never thought of it
with those adjectives attached: `cute' or `dimpled'.  But my mind went
completely blank when I felt Dennis's fingers began gently pulling the
halves of my butt cheeks apart. Surprised, I twisted half around,
"Hey...what are you looking for, gold?"

     But I was glad he liked my body. And at this point I was ready to
allow him to do anything he wanted with it.

     "I just wanna.....see..." he said using a babyish voice. I stayed
still and Dennis leaned forward while sliding his body back a bit. I could
feel his balls flatten against my upper back and his hardness pressing in
the channel of my spine; however, what startled me was the sudden wetness
that I felt on my right butt cheek...a little lapping moistness. I twisted
around again trying to see. I realized D was kissing or licking my butt!

     I didn't say anything, but Dennis probably felt he needed to explain,
"You had potato chip crumbs stuck to yer butt." All I could say was,
"Mmmmmm......."

     Then he was on the move again dragging himself forward. When his hips
reached the curve of my spine just before the rising hills of my bottom,
Dennis lay all the way down. He streached his arms out and took hold of
each of my ankles. So now, he was lying down on my back facing my feet. And
in this position when he moved up a little bit, his stiffy fitted perfectly
in between the cheeks of my ass. Dennis's legs tightened against my sides
and I held on to his legs as he began to move on me; I involuntarily
squeezed his hot hard dick with my flesh as Dennis began to slide back and
forth--slowly at first, then driving harder and harder into the firm grip
of my butt cheeks.

     I wanted to see him--wanted to watch his face as he made love to my
body, but in my face down position on the bed, all I could see was a Jack
of Hearts and a King of Diamonds lying on the bed just beyond my nose.

     Dennis was riding my body hard now. It was obvious he had lost control
of his easy rhythm. Now he was jerking and thrusting--actually writhing on
me. My D was about to cum. "Ohhhhhh.....fuck.....Chaaaaaaaar....."

      D's yell ended in a high pitched squeal as his voice was choked off
by the intensity of his orgasm. I was amazed that a nearly
thirteen-year-old boy could be so passionate. But what did I know?
Nothing. I had no experience with which to compare this one.  D's hips
jerked sharply two or three times and my butt was suddenly wet.  Dennis
groaned and twisted again, and more clear liquid was wrung from his body to
be added to our damp bed.

     I crawled from under his warm young body and went to lie next to
him. I waited until his brown eyes opened.

     "Hey baby." I lightly touched his chin.

     "Hey."

     "You okay?"

     "Yeah...that was real nice.' He rose up on an elbow to gaze down at
me, a quiet astonishment filled his eyes and his voice. "Let's do it
again."

     I smiled and peeled a fleck of potato chip from his soft cheek. "We
can do it anytime you want babe....", I leaned over to kiss his forehead,
"but first let's get rid of this funky bedspread and take a quick shower or
we might start growing mold.....we've got all night, all day....and every
weekend to do whatever we want to do."

     Then it was D's turn to smile.


                              *****