Date: Fri, 19 Dec 2008 07:00:59 -0800 (PST)
From: someone somewhere <lancelot1311@yahoo.com>
Subject: Strip Poker - Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER:

This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit
sexual acts between a man and a boy. If this type of content offends you or
you are under the age of 18 do not read it.

Author's Note:

This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal
reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but cannot be reposted. This story
is fantasy, and the author is over the age of 18. Please, don't confuse
fantasy with reality.

If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the
topic deceitful the please leave now.  If you enjoy the story, please let
me know.

All flames will be ignored.


Authors Note:

As an author at Nifty, my heart and soul and deepest dreams are poured
lovingly into these words. All I ask in return is a short note letting me
know if you enjoy the story. Your kind words are what keep me
writing. Please email me at lancelot1311@yahoo.com

To all of those who have already written me, I thank you, and hope to hear
what you think of the second part of the story.

Now, finally, to the story:



Strip Poker â€" Part 2

"Most people do not consider dawn to be an attractive experience - unless
they are still up."  - Ellen Goodman

My eyes fluttered open... then close back... it was still dark and I was
still tired...

A few hours passed, and consciousness began to creep up on me. "Let's try
this again," I thought to myself sensing the light behind my eyelids.

I opened my eyes... not in a flutter of joy... not in flash of energy, but
as I open them every morning. So far, this morning was like every other I
have had before it. Before me lie the alarm clock reading 8:24.

"Too early," I said to myself, rolling over. As I roll, I feel
something... a hand... I was beginning to finally let go the world of the
imaginary and reenter the world of the real. But this couldn't be
real... there was a boy beside me. I have dreamt dreams where a boy is in
my bed, but no... this wasn't possible. I must still be asleep, or have
fallen back to sleep. However, time was again starting to speed up and my
brain began to reboot.

Then the first real emotion of the morning... sheer, painful, complete,
heart pumping, fear inducing... PANIC.

While I didn't jump out of bed... I sure woke up quickly after
that. Unfortunately for me, at that time the rest of my senses returned,
including my pain receptors. "Damn wine", I cursed myself, "always leaves
the worst hangovers." However, the pain was the least of my problems.

Beside me lay the most beautiful, heavenly, angel of a boy... completely
flailed out across my bed, face down, buck naked, snoring louder than a
garbage truck running into a brick wall. "Well at least I didn't wake him,"
continued my internal dialogue.

I slowly lifted the covers, found the sweat pants from last night and
slipped them on. I then slowly opened the door to the bedroom and walked to
the kitchen. Still on autopilot, and not ready to do any serious thinking,
I went about making coffee. I then slipped into the half-bathroom furthest
from my bedroom and empty my bladder. "Apparently I ate asparagus last
night," I laughed to myself, turning on the vent.

After flushing, I went back to the kitchen, trying to stay quiet. I needed
to think by myself for while, and I didn't need Mike up quite yet. I got a
coffee cup out of the cabinet and, before the coffee was finished brewing,
poured myself a cup of coffee, replacing the pot afterwards to let the rest
brew.

As I took a seat at my kitchen table, I thought to myself, "Now for the
hard part." The first thought that raced through my head is that I would
need to get a really good lawyer. I didn't even know any lawyers, and I
hated lawyers. Lawyers slowed things down. But damn, the cops would be here
any minute. How would I explain this to my parents? There went my career
and all my years in college. Panic flowed through my veins.

I took another sip....

"Calm down Lance," I said out loud to myself, in a whisper.  But I
couldn't. I got up from my seat and paced. "How could I survive jail? I
couldn't fight... they would kill me anyways... they always kill pedophiles
in jail don't they? Maybe... maybe I should kill myself first... but
how... how do you do it without pain... quickly... how many pills should I
take? What should I take? Should I use a knife instead? The samurai used
knifes... but those were really swords.  Would a kitchen knife work? There
is one right over there... FUCK... FUCK FUCK... FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
FUCK FUCK!!"

I sat down...

I took another sip...

I got up again... I sat down again... I got up again. I walked to the
bedroom... I opened the door. I looked in... There he was. Mike was flayed
out on the bed, still face down. His head turned slightly, his auburn hair
resting against a pillow... my pillow. His left arm was across his back
while his right was hanging over the edge of the bed. One leg was bent
slightly. His beautiful behind was gently caressing the air above him. His
snore shook the door.

I took another sip...

A peace washed over me... seeing him there... somehow seeing him sleep
calmed me. I quietly shut the door, and went back to the table. I smiled to
myself. I was still scared, but after seeing Mike, I realized it wasn't
about me anymore. My life was forfeit last night. "My life for you," I
thought to myself. "Was it worth it?" I asked myself, taking another sip of
coffee. Bringing back the memories of last night, of making the boy cum, of
holdings those firm cheeks in my hands while my mouth was around the boy's
penis, I told myself, "Damn straight it was worth it!"

I kept asking myself, over and over again, "What do I do?" I was always
used to controlling the situation, to driving my fate, straightening the
twists and turns of my life. It was if I was on a road where I had
previously been the driver of a brand new car, driving much to slow for an
exciting ride. Now, after Mike entered my life, it was if a stranger had
suddenly threw me in the back seat, held a gun to my head, drove like a
maniac on the wrong side of a four lane highway going downhill, and the
breaks just went out.

Then it occurred to me. "Enjoy the ride."

I tried to take another sip... coffee was gone.

I got up and poured myself another cup of coffee and sat back down. "Enjoy
the ride... and what a ride it is!"

Then I began to think about Mike. I pictured his emerald green eyes in my
head. I imagined myself running my fingers through his hair. I remembered
laughing, smiling and joking with him in the restaurant. I could again feel
the joy in my heart that I felt last night at dinner, a joy that had never
been there before. A warm feeling washed over my body. I laughed to myself
as I remembered him pushing all the buttons in the limo, an angel dressed
in a suit too small for his growing body. I remembered the pain that filled
my heart as I listened to his stories about his mother and his
brother. Finally, I remembered the last thought I had the night before. I
really did love the boy. For the first time in my life, I was in love. I
cursed myself, not for being in love, but for almost throwing away my life
ten minutes ago, before my life had even really begun. Even if things
didn't work out, I would always have that love in my heart. Through
whatever trials in
 tribulations that lay before me, I could conquer them because for the
first time in my life, I was really alive.

I sighed to myself, and took another sip, basking in a glow my body had
never felt before, the glow of true love. "Damn, why does love have to be
so complicated," I thought. "Why couldn't I just love a woman and be
normal?" Before I even completely finished the thought, I answered myself,
"Because no - quote - normal love could be this strong or feel this good."

My stomach started to growl. Life was beginning to pull me out of my
contemplation, and my thoughts drifted from fancy towards the reality of
food. Instinctively, I got up and began to reach for the raisin
bran. "Wait..." I corrected myself. "Let me try and make this morning
special for him." However, cold raisin bran was anything but special. I
opened the fridge and saw I still had a few eggs left. I then pulled out
the milk and smelled it. "Not too bad," I thought to myself, checking the
date to verify that my nose was not deceiving me. Looking around, I saw a
bag of cheese. I then opened the drawer and remembered that I had bought
mushrooms a few days ago.

I pulled all the ingredients out of the fridge and set them on the
counter. I then opened the pantry and pulled out an onion. Reaching under
the cabinet, I pulled out a small and a large frying pan. I then turned the
oven to low and reached to the cabinet beside the oven for a cutting
board. As I lay the cutting board down, I reached for the
knife. Remembering what I thought about earlier, I vowed to myself "Never
again."

I got to cooking. Remembering butter, I once again dove into the fridge and
pulled out a tub of country crock. I put the two skillets on the stove,
added a healthy dollop of country crock to both, and turned the small pan
up to high. As the butter was melting, I continued to dice the onion and
mushrooms, and then added them to the small pan. I then turned the big pan
on medium-low and got out my boat motor, aka stick mixer, and a cup to mix
in. I laid the mixer down, and pulled out two plates, placing both of them
in the oven to warm up.

I cracked three eggs into cup, added a splash of milk, some fresh ground
pepper, and some Tony Chachere's. I then got my boat motor and whipped the
mixture into a fluffy concoction.  I quickly stirred the mushrooms and
onions, which were nearly done, then added the egg mixture to the now warm
pan. After turning the pan to coat the edges, I let the egg mixture sit. I
went back to the mushrooms and gave them another stir. I quickly made
another batch of the egg mixture, but waited to mix it until the first
batch was done.

Having a moment to breathe, I suddenly realized how much I liked to cook,
and more importantly, cook for someone else. A calm peace had washed over
my body.

My attention was drawn back to the egg mixture, noticing that the eggs were
begging to set up in the middle. I used a fork to check the bottom... just
starting to get brown... perfect. I then added some cheese to the middle,
and spooned half of the mushrooms and onions onto one half. After letting
the eggs completely set up, I carefully folded the egg mixture in
half. After letting it cook another thirty seconds, I got an oven mit,
pulled one of the plates out of the oven and slid the omelet onto the
plate.

I then placed the plate back in the oven to keep warm and repeated the
process for the second omelet. I rinsed out the mess I had made cleaning
while the omelet set up and placed most of the dirty dishes in the
dishwasher. While I was spooning the onion mixture into the second omelet,
I realized I didn't have a tray to bring it into him on. "Shit," I thought
to myself, almost panicking. I then remembered the TV trays I had in the
living room. I finished plating the omelet and placed it in the oven along
with the first. I quickly rinsed the pans and placed them in the
dishwasher.

I then got two trays out of the living room and slowly crept into the
bedroom. My heart jumped a little as I opened the door. He was still
there... but had shifted slightly. He was laying on his side now after
pulling the covers up in his sleep. I put both of the trays on his side of
the bed and set them up as quietly as possible, although given the lack of
movement and the ear splitting snoring, I could have probably gone skeet
shooting in the room and he wouldn't have woken up.

I went back to the kitchen and took two glasses out of the freezer. I then
poured OJ into the two glasses and, with forks and napkins, delivered them
to the room. I then made one final trip to the kitchen and, with mitted
hands, brought the two omelets to the bedroom, careful to give Mike the
fresher of the two.

Setting the omelets down upon the TV tables, I took off my oven mitts and
place them upon the dresser. I then turn and look at Mike, still snoring
and out cold. For a moment I didn't want to wake the boy, content to watch
him sleep. However, his eggs were getting cold. I walked over to the bed
and rubbed the back of my hand along Mike's face.

Nothing...

I then slowly shook him, jostling the bed lightly, trying to make the
process of waking up as painless as possible.

"Mmutgh... ffg..." he mumbled, pulling the covers up over his head to block
out the sun.

"This boy likes to sleep," I thought to myself. I jostled him a bit harder.

"Go away... I'm getting up," he mumbled as he resumed snoring.

"Mike, I made breakfast," I said softly. No answer. "Mike. Mike! WAKE UP
MIKE!" I almost began to yell.

"WHAT!" He opened his eyes, obviously angry. He looked around for a second,
confused and still mostly asleep. As his brain started to come alive, he
scooted up the bed a little and began to sit up. "Sorry..." he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it!" I said honestly. "Sorry to wake you."

Mike was still rubbing his eyes, trying to get the sleep out and remember
exactly where he was. Then it clicked. He looked up at me, smiled a huge
smile, and threw out his arms asking to be held. I reached down and gave
the boy a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning," I whispered softly
into his ear.

"Good morning to you too," he said, his voice crackling slightly, his
throat still not completely wet after snoring all night.  "Omelets... I
love omelets. But you didn't have to..."

I cut him off. "I know I didn't have to. I wanted to make you
breakfast. Now come over here and eat."

He scooted further up the bed, and I slid the TV tray closer to him. He was
about to take the blankets off and sit over the edge when he remembered he
didn't have any clothes on. He pulled the covers up tight and a red flush
came over his face.

"Don't worry Mike," I comforted him, "I think I have seen everything
there. You don't need to be embarrassed." He smiled at me, but kept the
blankets. I sat down along the side of the bed, and began to eat my
omelets, and he did the same.

"These are good," he said with a mouth full of food. "I can't get them to
come out this good... there is always a crust on the bottom of mine."

"Patience, grasshopper," I said with my best fake oriental accent. "To get
them to come out, you need to use low heat and watch it closely."

"Oh... I always just turned it on high... I will have to try that."

Mike was obviously enjoying the omelets, as he finished both his OJ and the
omelet within two minutes of starting to eat.

"Did I make enough?" I asked, about ready to give him the rest of mine.

"Yes..., "he paused, burping. "I always eat fast."

"Well you should slow down and enjoy your food."

"When you make it yourself... you don't really...." He trailed off. "Thank
you," he said, looking at me smiling. "No one has ever made me breakfast in
bed before."

"Well I am glad you liked it," I said, standing up and pulling the trays
away from the bed. I then sat down, closer to his face. I knelt down and
kissed his forehead. He smiled at me and bent up and kissed my lips.

I pulled away and looked down. As if reading my mind he said, "Don't worry,
I won't tell anybody."

I smiled at him, and said, "I am sorry if I hurt you... I mean..."

He laughed. "If that was hurting me, then I can't wait till you try to make
me feel good." I couldn't help but laugh.

I lightly kissed his lips again. Every kiss still felt electric. There was
so much newness, so much freshness to him. My brain was still trying to
sort through all the different sensations and emotions I was currently
feeling.

He looked at me as if he wanted to ask me something but couldn't.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing... just... I mean..." he stumbled across his
words. "Um... could... could we do what we did last night again?"

I looked down and finally noticed the tent in the blankets and laughed out
loud. "You are a horny devil," I teased, ruffling his hair. "Not right now
though. We have to get you showered up. Your mom will be by any time to get
you."

He was obviously disappointed and he looked down.

I picked up his chin and said, "Hey there... that doesn't mean we can't do
anything ever... we just have to get ready."

"My mom won't be here... she probably forgot about me..."

"That isn't true. Your mom loves you," I tried to comfort him, wondering if
it was the truth. "She will be by any moment to pick you up."

He was quite a while. I kissed his forehead again. He then looked up and
asked, "Did you mean what you said last night?"

"What part?" I asked... trying to remember everything I said.

"That... that you loved me?"

My heart warmed, I smiled and said, "Yes Mike. I do love you. You are
amazing." I took his hand and kissed it.

"I love you too, Lance! No one has said that... in a long time... and..."
he stopped.

Emotions were beginning to overwhelm my system. Not only did he say that he
also loves me in the same breath, he inferred that he saw no love at
home. I mean, what parent didn't love their child? Both joy and anger
filled my veins. Pushing back the wave of emotion, I bent down and hugged
the boy. I whispered again, "I really do love you," and before he could
answer, kissed him with a deep French kiss. I let my hand explore along his
exposed skin, feeling his nipples as they began to become erect, feeling
his tight stomach, and along his smooth back.

Knowing that I really did need to get him ready, just in case he was wrong,
I broke the kiss. "Time to get a shower," I said, pulling away reluctantly.

"Awww... can't we..."

"No sweetie," I said. "If you want to have me around, you need to make sure
no one finds out... so we need to get a shower."

"Ok," he answered, albeit reluctantly. Blushing for just a moment, he got
out of bed. Standing up, in the daylight, his body was beautiful. As white
as milk, his skin was speckled in just the right places with the shadows of
freckles. Except for his head, the only hair on his body was the soft downy
of boyhood. His penis was sticking almost straight up, engorged with blood
as a result of both the attention I showed him earlier and his normal
morning hard-on.

He came over to me and I lightly rubbed his hair. "Could you shower with
me?" he asked.

"I don't know..." I said, trying to maintain my composure, despite my
rapidly expanding penis.

"Pleaseeee..." He pleaded with me, both rubbing his hard penis hard penis
against my sweatpants and giving me a pleading look.

"Those puppy dog eyes are going to be the death of me," I joked. "Ok," I
said, losing all willpower. "Go start the water."

He giggled, happy that he had won. He ran to the bathroom, and I heard the
water start. I sat down on the bed and removed my sweat pants. I then made
my way to the bathroom to find Mike struggling to pee.

"Problems?" I asked.

"Um... yeah... I really need to go, but my thing won't go down," he said,
obviously embarrassed.

"Then just go in the shower," I said.

"What?"

"Just go in the shower... I do it all the time." I then thought about
getting in the shower with him and letting him pee on me, but then thought
better of it. "No, take this slow," I thought to myself. "That would be way
too kinky to start."

"Just go in the shower and I will come in after you are done to wash you."

"Ok," he said, obviously a little concerned. He entered the glass enclosed
shower, and I stood outside, never taking my eyes off the boy. At first, he
had a little trouble, as this was a new experience and his body didn't want
to cooperate. However, after a few seconds, his body relaxed and a golden
stream came flowing from his hard penis. The stream splashed against the
wall and mixed with the warm water flowing from the showerhead. Far too
soon, the stream slowed to a trickle, then to only a few drops, mixing with
the spray that was covering the boy. As he obviously felt more relieved,
and beckoned me to come in.

I grabbed a washcloth and opened the shower door, stepped inside and closed
the door quickly, careful not to let too much water out.

"Hi," I said, full of lust.

"Hi," he said back, pulling my body close to his in a hug. I bent down
slightly and kissed Mike deeply on the lips. Warm water flowed over our
bodies. I held Mike tightly, my hands gently massaging his butt cheeks. Our
penises were grinding against each other, and a soft moan came out of his
mouth.

I pulled away, and huffed, "Ok. Time to get washed up."

"Can I wash you?" he said, giving me a toothy grin.

"Sure my little angel, go ahead." I sat down on a little stool that was in
the shower which I used when I wanted to shave. "Start with the
shampoo... it is over there," I said, pointing to the green Aveda bottle.

"Which one?" he asked.

"The clearer one. The other is the conditioner."

He grabbed the bottle and poured a small amount into his hands. Instantly
the smell of rosemary mint filled the small, steam filled shower. "Wow,
that smells good," he commented.

"I will have to get you some," I replied. He came back over to me and began
rubbing my hair, massaging the shampoo all over. I opened my legs to make
it easier for him to get closer to me.

Mike was focused on the task at hand, and diligently rubbing the suds
through my scalp. I took the opportunity to look deeply at my love. He was
truly an angel. His wet hair was matted to his head, and his tongue was
slightly sticking out the corner of his red lips. His jade eyes caught
mine, and he giggled at me. To finish scrubbing the back of my head, he
leaned in close to my body. Our penises touched and rubbed against each
other. Mike closed his eyes and moaned.

While electric, and immensely pleasurable, I took this (and the fact that
soap was starting to run into my eye) as my cue to rinse. I stood up and
rinsed the soap out of my hair, sitting back down when I was finished to
let the boy use the conditioner. Mike, for his part, switched bottles and
began rubbing the conditioner through my head. This time, however, he got
close quickly. The whole time he was rubbing conditioner through my head,
his cock was rubbing against mine. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan,
as the feelings of his cock and balls against my most sensitive parts drove
me wild.

After a minute or so, he pulled away and told me to rinse, and I got up and
rinsed my hair under the shower. After finishing, I grabbed the soap and
the washcloth and handed it to the boy.

"Wow, this smells better than the shampoo," he said, taking in a deep
breath of the soap.

"It is vervine from L'Occitane," I said. He looked at me puzzled, obviously
never hearing of the store. "I will pick you some of this up too."

Mike soaped up the washcloth, and then began by gently rubbing it across my
face. Sensing that I needed to rinse when he was done, he moved aside and
directed me to the flowing water. Once rinsed, I sat down again. He rubbed
my arms and chest with the washcloth, and I could sense he was hurrying in
anticipation of getting to the good part.

I stood up and turned around, telling him to make sure to get the back
really well. He reached up behind me and began rubbing the washcloth along
my back, working his way down. As he got to my behind, he paused for a
second. I looked back, and could see the questioning look in his face.

"Go ahead," I said.

He went back to washing, rubbing my butt cheeks. I moaned when he ran his
fingers inside the crack and washed along my asshole. He rubbed there a
little longer than he should have. I reached back and pulled my cheeks
apart to give him a better view. He slowly rubbed along my asshole, slowing
down and pushing a little as he stroked across my hole. I moaned again.

He looked at the washcloth and noticed it picked up some dirt in that
area. He rinsed out the cloth and lathered it back up. I calmed down a bit
and stood back up. He continued rubbing down the back of my legs, and
cleaned my feet.

I then turned around, my dick was now harder than it had been in the last
10 years. He looked at me and gasped a little gasp. I laughed a little,
lifting a leg so that he could wash it. He finished my leg, then my
other. Then he looked at me again... as if asking politely. I said nothing
but put my leg down and waited for him to wash my genitals.

Mike gulped slightly and pressed the washcloth right against my pubes. He
slowly rubbed around, then up and down the length of my shaft, first with
the washcloth, then with his bare hand. The other hand was rubbing the
washcloth along my balls. I closed my eyes and moaned in
delight. Eventually he dropped the cloth and just ran his fingers along my
penis. I kept my eyes closed, but could feel the soap being washed off by
the running water.

Eventually, the rubbing stopped. However, as I opened my eyes, I looked
down and saw that Mike was on his knees and his mouth about to cover my
cockhead. I wanted to protest, but as his lips slid over the end of my
penis, the word "No" came out more as an "NOOOOHHHH."

He sucked me for a few seconds, before his teeth scratched against me,
causing a little pain. I pulled away, and he looked shocked. "It is ok," I
said. "Just be careful not to use your teeth. Make sure you put your lips
over your teeth."

"Ok," he said, a little self conscious. While he was worried about doing it
wrong, his lust was far stronger. With his new instructions, he took my
penis and guided it back into his mouth. I rubbed my hand through his hair
as he started to bob up and down, taking a little more of my cock into his
mouth with each bob. Eventually he gagged, and pulled away quickly.

"Are you ok?" I asked, concerned. He nodded yes, and began to go back down
on my cock. As he did I said "You don't have to go all the way... take what
you can handle. It feels great!" He kept it up for a little while and I
could feel my cum starting to boil. "I will cum. If you want, I can cum in
your mouth... otherwise I will tell you. Do you want me to cum in your
mouth?"

"Ummhmmm..." he said, as he nodded a yes.

That almost put me over the edge. While his mouth was inexperienced, his
hand was playing with my balls while the other guided how much he could
take. I started thrusting a little, trying to control how aggressive I
was. However, I soon took his head in my hand, and rubbed his hair, trying
hard not to grab hold and push him down on my whole dick. My thrusts
quickened, as did my breath. I then looked down to see his mouth spread
over my penis. His eyes closed, and he was moaning. His penis was bobbing
up and down, trying to get any attention it could.

I couldn't hold it any more. "Here... I... UGHGHH!"  I shot load after load
into Mike's mouth. Although I could feel him try to drink the cum, he
wasn't quick enough and some started to leak out of the sides of his
mouth. Seeing this, I moaned again and shot another shot deep into him.

Eventually I was spent, and I pulled out of Mike's mouth. Before he could
say anything, I knelt down and kissed him hard on his lips, forcing my
tongue deep into his mouth, sharing my cum with him as our tongues danced.

After the taste dissipated and all the cum was gone, I pulled back and
said, "That was awesome. You are fantastic. Where did you learn that?"

"I never did that before," he blushed.

"Well you were great. Did you like it?"

"Um... yeah... that was fun. It tasted a little weird, but..."

"Yeah, it does taste a little weird. An acquired taste," I grinned, kissing
him again. "Your turn now."

Mike stood up and handed me the washcloth. I quickly rinsed it out and set
it aside. I grabbed the shampoo and knelt down on my knees so that I would
be at eyelevel with him. I began by pouring a little of the minty shampoo
into my hand, rubbed my hands together and started slowly working it in his
hair. While his eyes were shut, trying to keep the soap out, I memorized
his face. I stared longingly at his thin nose. I tried to remember every
freckle that was speckled across the bridge of his nose and along his
cheeks, just below his eyes. I then drooled longingly at his puffy red
lips. Unable to resist temptation I knelt in and gave him a deep,
passionate kiss.

Slowly breaking away, I told him to rinse. He aimed his head under the warm
flowing water while I reached around, filling the cup of my hand with the
conditioner. I repeated the wash process on his head, completing again with
a kiss, but making this kiss last. "The conditioner should sit for a
while," I told myself as our tongues danced, flirting in and out of each
other's mouth.

Once he rinsed the conditioner off, following me reluctantly pulling away
from the boy, I soaped up the wash cloth and rubbed his face gently,
careful not to hurt him, but still trying to get his face clean. When his
face was rinsed, I gently washed his chest, careful not to venture below
his waist, yet.  I gingerly pinched each nipple as I cleansed it which drew
a soft moan from the boy.

After the water cleansed the soap from his chest, I continued by gently
rubbing his arms one at a time, paying attention, and memorizing each hair,
each finger as I lovingly ran the cloth along his body. I not only wanted
to wash the dirt off the boy, but also any pain he may have felt before. I
wanted him to start new, and for me to shield him from any future pain. As
I stroked his arms, he began to grind his penis into mine. Although I had
cum just a few minutes ago, my member was still hard. There was no way I
could cum again for a while, but the excitement of the situation wouldn't
let it go down.

When his arms were thoroughly soaped, and after I though Mike was getting
too close to cumming (which I wanted to save for later), I asked him to
turn around. As the boy slowly and reluctantly turned, I came to a
conclusion. The back of this boy was just as beautiful as the front. His
shoulder blades were taught and high and you could see the bone in his
back, partially covered by developing muscles. I was in love and in lust at
the same time. "Wow," I said out loud. This drew a giggle from Mike. I
continued with my task at hand and began soaping up the back of the boy,
bypassing his behind for the moment, and continuing up and down the legs,
making sure to brush his balls once or twice. I could tell by the moaning
that Mike really needed to cum, but I wasn't ready for him to do so quite
yet. I wanted to fulfill one of my fantasies before I gave the boy release.

Finally, I worked my way back up the boy's legs, continuing by scrubbing
each cheek. As the water was flowing over the boy, the soap quickly washed
off. I then told Mike to bend over and hold his cheeks so that I could
scrub his hole really well. He turned and looked at me, a little
embarrassed, but complied.

There, before me, was one of the most obscene, beautiful sights in the
world. No woman's pussy would ever compare... no... would not even be in
the same league as the beautiful sight before me. As perfect as a pink
rosebud and just as tightly wound. Although, I was sure, it would be a
while before I deflowered this child, I could have a taste. I washed the
boy carefully, and when there was no trace of brown on the outside, I slid
my finger in a little, covered by the cloth. This made Mike moan again, a
little louder.

I then set the cloth down and rinsed the area with my hands, poking in a
little deeper, making sure to get all of the soap out. Once there was no
trace of soap left, I asked Mike, "Do you trust me?"

"Hu?" He looked up over his shoulder.

"I am not going to hurt you, but do you trust me?" I repeated.

"Yes, of course... but..."

"Then hold your cheeks open and close your eyes."

You could see a twinge of fear in his eyes, probably thinking I was going
to force myself onto him, but he did as I asked. Once he was bent over, I
took his cheeks and pulled them a little wider. I then let my tongue gently
rub across his rosebud. No taste... good. Mike jumped a little and looked
back. But before he could say anything, I spread his cheeks wide and began
licking deep into his hole, causing him to moan, "No....ooooohhhh." He
pressed hard up against my mouth and I continued licking. As my tongue
worked into the boy's behind, I could feel it loosen up a little, and stuck
my tongue in as far as it would go. Mike moaned and pushed and began to
stroke his penis. I grabbed his hand and pulled his hand away. He whined,
but complied, moaning the whole time.

After a minute of rimming, my tongue was starting to get tired. I pulled
away, and picked up the cloth. I then turned Mike around. I then, gently,
washed his dick and balls, careful not to caress too hard, so as to make
him cum. Still, this brought out loud moans from the boy.

After the water rinsed off the soap, I looked into the boy's eyes. They
were begging, pleading with me for release, yet no words came out of his
mouth. I asked Mike, "Can I suck you again? Like last night?" He nodded a
resounding yes and thrust his hips out. I wasted no time, as I could tell
the boy was already on the edge, and grabbed his hips with both hands,
knelt down and drew his penis in my mouth to the hilt in one swallow. A
loud hiss came out of the boy's mouth and he starting thrusting
furiously. Happy to let the boy use me, I added to the boy's thrusting,
pushing him out and pulling him in by the hips with each thrust. Within
thirty seconds, the boy let out a muted and very high pitched "OOOOOHHHHH"
and his body began shaking. Although I was not rewarded with any cum, I
could feel the intense orgasm flow through his body. He shook, and his eyes
rolled into the back of his head. I held him up by the hips as his legs
started to get
 weak.

Slowly, he came down from his orgasmic high, drained. I held onto him and
kissed him on the forehead. I didn't want to gross him out after rimming
him by French kissing him... at least not yet.

"That was amazing," he said. "But... I can't believe you licked my
asshole. Didn't it taste bad?"

"No, I cleaned it first... did you like it?"

"OH YES!! I hope we can do that again soon," he said, smiling a huge grin
at me.

"We will, but for right now, we need to get out of the shower. I would be
hell for both of us if your mom found us like this."

"Yeah," he said, dejected, with a little sigh at the mention of his
mom. "That was really fun." He then grabbed me and hugged me tightly. "I
love you Lance."

"I love you too Mike. I really do." I held him for a moment, as I could
tell, right now, he just needed a hug. After he started to let go, I
finally said, "Ok... time to get out," and shut off the water.

... To be continued...


_______________________________

Dear reader,

At this point, I regret to inform you that I will be traveling for the
holidays, and will not be able to continue the story for a while. I hope
you understand and have a Merry Christmas!