Date: Sat, 8 Jul 2006 06:45:09 -0500
From: Justin Davis <justin0398@gmail.com>
Subject: That Glorious Summer 01 by Justin Davis (M/t, mast, oral, anal)

The following story contains graphic sexual scenes involving a young
male and an older male.  If material of this nature offends you then
you should not read this story.  Additionally, if you are under 18
years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by
law.

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.  Additionally, the actions of the characters in this
story are in no way intended to show approval of, or give sanction to,
their actions.

The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which
it has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Positive comments are always welcome and you may e-mail them to
Justin0398@gmail.com


That Glorious Summer
By
Justin Davis

Chapter One



It was a particularly hot and sticky summer that year.  Then, in
Orlando, Florida, that's not that unusual.  I guess the story of that
summer began as I was reading the chapter in my Art History text
dealing with the influence of Florence, Italy, on the Renaissance.

Scott and I had been roommates since the beginning of our senior year,
and deciding we had had enough of dorm life, we had hunted for a place
to live.  Fortunately, I had found a garage apartment, actually the
old servant's quarters, located behind a somewhat drab mansion in what
had once been an upscale part of Orlando.

Mrs. Stevens, the little, gray-haired, old lady that still lived alone
in the big stucco main house, was holding on to memories of times gone
by.  She was trying, the best she could, to hold on to the place she
and her husband had built over half a century before in spite of the
rising taxes.  So, the former servant's quarters had gone up for rent.

I don't know why, but Mrs. Stevens had taken a liking to me right
away, she was sure to let me know she hadn't really been interested in
renting to college students and had turned several down.  Yet, she and
I had seemed to hit it off, I think she liked my artist's eye for the
fresco that adorned the dining room, and the deal was sealed.

Basically, Scott and I wound up with a two-bedroom apartment that we
could paint up and fix up any way that we wanted.  The only hard and
fast rule, and Mrs. Stevens had been adamant about that, was no wild
parties.  Friends visiting, and even spending the night was okay.
However, the nice old lady had been quite clear that she expected
proper decorum to be maintained, which was something that I found
interesting in a neighborhood that was obviously on the decline.

So, for the next year, Scott and I continued our undergraduate
studies, me majoring in Art History and he majoring in Business
Administration, and we had the usual ups and downs in our lives that
college students have.

From early on, Scott had known that I was gay, something that we
really never talked about that much in detail.  Oh, from time to time,
he would make comments about the gay lifestyle, wondering what the
hell guys saw in other guys.  Yet, he just accepted me as who I was
and let it go at that.  I, on the other hand, shook my head often at
his seemingly insatiable desire for cunt.

"Hey, it's all good if you're drunk enough", he would say many times.

Of course, I would laugh, knowing that in the gay world that is true
as well, more often than any of us would like to admit.

I would be remiss if I didn't say flat out that Scott was a stud.  The
third generation off spring of Greek immigrants, Scott could have
instantly been a model for Michelangelo or any other great sculptor.

Simply put, his abs were like they were chiseled in marble.  His
flashing green eyes held the girls spellbound.  It was like Tom Cruise
on a stick, and the chicks loved it, especially when he slid that
eight-inch rod into them and fucked them senseless, the guy could hold
off from cumming forever.

As for me, well, for two years my tall, lanky-framed self had had an
affair with a guy my age named Jacob.  Jacob was also an art major,
and Jewish.  I must admit, I always found it fascinating that he loved
my uncut cock so much, given the Jewish thing about circumcision and
all.  And yes, I heard about that many times over the course of our
two-year relationship. In fact, he informed that someday he was going
to do his own study on the sensitivity of the head of the penis
between uncut guys and cut guys.  Go figure!

As soon as Scott and I graduated we immediately started graduate
school, Scott working on his MBA and me working on a specialization in
Art History and historical preservation.

"Fucking God Damn Hell!" Scott had exclaimed one day, as he opened the
letter from his mom that I had placed on the end table by the couch.

"Uh, bad news?" I had asked, looking up from the textbook I was reading.

"I fucking can't believe they are asking me to do this shit!  I have
to work six days a week and go to class, too.  God damn!  I mean I
gotta be a fucking baby sitter on top of it all!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing.  Just the fact that mom and dad are going to go on a two
month cruise out of Miami and they want me to take care of David,"
Scott replied, tossing the letter down upon the couch.

"Your little brother?" I asked.

"Yeah, "The Dork!" Scott replied.

"Well, it shouldn't be that big a deal for him to rack up with us for
awhile," I replied.

"Fuck that shit!  No way!  Where the hell is he gonna sleep?  What the
fuck is he gonna do?  I can't look after the little bastard all the
time," Scott exclaimed.

"Look, I'm just taking one class the first and second semester this
summer.  My stipend from being a graduate assistant and the paintings
and sketches I sell are enough to keep me going so I don't have to
work.  I'll help you take care of him," I replied.

"Aw man!  He's such a fucking twerp!" Scott wailed.

"Hey, we all were at his age.  How old is he anyway?" I asked, Scott
never having really said that much about his family at all.

"He's fucking twelve years old.  A fucking dork!" Scott replied.

"I bet you were when you were twelve, too," I responded.

"Fuck you!" Scott shot back.

"Look, it isn't that big of a deal.  We got cable TV and he can help
keep the pool clean," which was something that Mrs. Stevens had
insisted was part of our rent agreement.  "I can kind of make sure he
has stuff to do.  Besides you spend most night's over at Karen's
apartment anyway.  He can sleep on the pull-out couch when you're here
and in your bed when you're not," I said.

"Yeah, I guess," Scott replied, a tone of resignation in his voice.

For the remaining two weeks of June not much was said about David
until the July 4th weekend approached.  Scott's parents had booked
themselves to leave that weekend and David was supposed to be picked
up at the local airport on July 3rd.  Scott began to grumble again
about his little brother staying with us and had grumbled all the way
out the door on his way to the airport to pick his little brother up.

"Well, we're fucking back!" Scott remarked as he came in through the
front door carrying a suitcase with his little brother in tow behind
him.

As I looked up from the charcoal sketch that I was working on, and
turned my head toward the door, I was momentarily stunned by what I
saw.  I guess, for reasons that just seemed logical, I had expected
David in someway be a carbon copy of his older brother.  However, that
was not the case.

The baggy tee shirt and shorts the kid wore appeared to completely
swallow his five-foot frame the same as the high top tennis shoes he
wore seemed to swallow his feet.  His straight, long, blonde hair,
that hung down to his shoulders, his cobalt blue eyes, and his lanky
almost feminine frame, were a stark contrast to his older brother's
coal black hair, green eyes, and masculine build, as was his deeply
tanned skin.

In short, David was at that androgynous phase of development in which
some boys have both a look of impending masculinity about him but
still possess some soft feminine qualities.  My artist's mind
immediately thought of the bronze statue of David, by Donatello, and I
thought that Scott's little brother could have served as the model.

"Here's the dweeb!" Scott said, chunking the suitcase down on the
couch, and causing his little brother to cut his eyes at him.

"Welcome, David!  I'm Justin," I said, getting up from my stool and
moving out from behind the easel and walking toward the front door of
the apartment with my hand out stretched.

"Hi!" David replied, and shook my hand somewhat timidly as he glanced
around the living room.

"Look, I gotta shower and get to work.  I'll let you two guys get to
know each other," Scott said, and headed toward the back of the
apartment and his bedroom.

"Well, have a seat, David," I said, motioning toward the couch.  "You
have a good flight?" I asked, as the kid plopped himself down upon the
couch and I sat down in the brown, leather, lounge chair.

"Uh, yeah I guess," he replied, still glancing around the living room.
 "You guys got cable?" he asked, his eyes focused on the television
set located in the middle of the entertainment center.

"Yeah, we do," I replied.

"Cool!  I like cartoons and MTV!"

"Yeah, I watch cartoons myself sometimes.".

"You guys use the pool much?"

"Well, every now and then your brother brings his girl friend over for
a swim and sometimes I just go lay out and soak up some sun and swim a
bit," I said.

"I like to swim.  I spend a lot of time at the club house pool near
our house," David replied, causing me to take note that his voice was
just beginning to get a little masculinity to it but was still a
little feminine in its tone.

"Yeah, I can see you've been out in the sun a lot," I said.

"So, you paint and stuff?"

"Well, I'm an artist, yes."

"You paint that?" the boy asked, pointing to a copy of a seascape
portrait Scott and I had bought at the Goodwill store to dress up one
of the walls of the living room and prompting me to chuckle.

"No, that's a copy of a painting someone else did.  I did paint that
one though," I replied, pointing to landscape I had done at the local
park.

"Wow!  That's good!"

"Well, thanks, David.  These days I paint and sketch mostly for a
hobby.  My field of work is mostly going to be art restoration and
preservation.  I do sell some things every now and then at a spot in
the park where local artists set up on the weekends," I replied.

"Okay guys, I gotta git.  I'll see you two in the morning.  I'm gonna
spend the night at Karen's after I get off work.  You can have my bed,
twerp!" Scott said as he hurried out of the back of the apartment
toward the front door.

"See yah later!" I said as Scott headed out the door.

"Bye!" David chimed in.

"Later you guys!" Scott hollered back as he closed the door behind him.

"Well, you got anything in particular you wanna do or see?" I asked.

"Uh, nah!  Can I go for a swim?" the boy asked.

"Sure, knock yourself out," I replied.

"Cool!" David replied, and grabbed his suitcase and headed toward the
back of the apartment.

"The bedroom on the right is your brother's," I hollered after him, as
the boy headed down the hall.

Glad that at least the kid was going to entertain himself for the time
being, I got up and went back and sat down behind the easel and picked
up the stick of charcoal to continue working on the portrait I had
started. In fact, I was either so intent on what I was doing or David
was so quiet that I didn't notice that he had slipped in beside me and
was watching me work.

"She's got big tits!" the boy said, causing me to glance up from my work.

Instantly, what I saw both shocked and astounded me.  Standing to the
side, just a foot or so away, with a towel over one shoulder and his
hands on his hips, was David dressed in nothing by a yellow Speedo
swimsuit.  Almost naked, and his body no longer swallowed up by his
baggy clothes, the kid was a sight to behold.

His almost quarter sized nipples were a dark almond color and his
tummy, which was already beginning to show the first signs of muscular
development, had traces of blonde fuzz here and there that signaled
his impending manhood.

Quickly, I averted my eyes back toward the canvas.  Yet, not before I
had been made aware, by the bulge in the kid's swimsuit, that he was
well on the way to equaling or bettering his older brother in terms of
genitalia.

"Who is she?" David asked.

"Her name's Cindy.  She's one of the art students and models that pose
for the Art Department," I replied.

"You mean she lets people see her naked?"

"Yes, and she gets paid for it, too. There are guys who pose as well,"
I replied.

"You mean college guys get naked so you can draw um?" the kid asked,
somewhat astounded.

"Sure, it's no big deal," I replied.

" Man, I wouldn't do that for nothin!" David replied, prompting me to chuckle.

"Well, you're a little young for that, although Cindy does have a
wonderful nude portrait that she did of her son two years ago," I
replied.

"How old is he?" David asked, still standing with his hands on his
hips watching me work.

"He was eight at the time," I replied.

"Wow!  He let his mom draw him naked?" David asked in an astonished tone.

"Well, it's just the human body, David.  It doesn't bother some people
to pose nude.  In fact, both Cindy and her son Gary frequent the nude
beaches a lot," I replied.

"Yeah, I've heard about those," the kid replied.

"Yes, with some people they are popular," I responded.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a swim," the kid said, and headed for the front door.

"Have fun!" I said, and was immediately ashamed at myself for staring
at his firm, bubble butt, that sat atop his gazelle-like legs, as he
walked toward the door.

Over the next couple of weeks, David was either swimming, watching
television, or going with me to the park that was only a few blocks
down the street.  In fact, we rarely saw Scott much, as I figured we
wouldn't.  Evidently, it was quite alright with him to let me be the
entertainment committee for his little brother and I filled the role
as best I could, not that I had to do all that much.

David had fallen in with a group of boys about his own age that played
soccer in the park almost daily and so while I sat up my paintings and
sketches along with the other artists he would play soccer with the
other boys.

Rarely ever, unless we went out to the movies or the mall, did the kid
ever seem to have many clothes on.  Around the apartment, he wore
either a pair of boxers or his Speedo, and when we went to the park
all he usually wore were his tennis shoes and a pair of blue, silk,
soccer shorts.  In short, for someone who seemed so concerned about
nudity David seemed to be almost nude all the time, not that I minded.

In a way, I guess, I slowly deluded myself into thinking that it was
my artist's eye that was attracted to David's boyish beauty.  In fact,
I was convinced that I had been so discrete in ogling his body that
the kid had no idea that I was finding him more attractive to look at
with each passing day.  I was wrong.

It was the last week in July, as a matter of fact the last Sunday of
that month, when the boys broke up their soccer game early.  David had
come to me with a brown-haired kid, named Andy Waters, and announced
that they were going back to the apartment and go swimming.

Since I was still hoping to sell another painting or two, I remained
behind and told them to have a good time.  Eventually, however, it
became apparent that it just wasn't gonna happen so I packed the two
paintings and two sketches away in the leather carrying case and
headed home. When I arrived, I decided to check on the two boys so I
headed to the pool area that was located behind both the main house
and the garage apartment.

A high wall of hedges, with the exception of an open entrance,
surrounds the pool area, and as I headed through the entrance what I
saw made me stop dead in my tracks then quickly retreat behind the
hedge.

On a towel spread out upon the pool deck were David and Andy, both
naked and in a sixty-nine position with David on top.  Even though I
had only gotten a quick glance, my suspicions about David's equipment
had been correct.  He had to have at least five-inches of dick and his
low-hung balls were the size of walnuts, all of which was offset by a
small, blonde, tuft of pubes.

Andy, on the other hand, seemed to have only about three inches of
peter and his balls were much smaller.  Yet, I did think I had seen a
few brown hairs just above the shaft of his pecker.  Cautiously, I
glanced around the corner of the hedge and watched the lurid scene as
the two youthful vixens slurped on each other's dicks like candy
canes, my seven-inch cock growing harder by the second.

Then, I emitted a low moan as David repositioned himself so that his
legs were on either side of Andy's chest, offered him his cut, fat,
five-inch morsel for the sucking, and then began to face fuck his new
buddy with wild abandon.

At that age, it doesn't usually take long to get off and soon David's
thrusts became more urgent and he let out a soprano squeal.  Knowing
full well that he was blowing his load into his new buddy's willing
mouth at that moment, I almost creamed my shorts.

Then, as Andy wiped the cum residue from his mouth, and repositioned
his body and proceeded to fuck David's face in turn, I turned and
headed toward the apartment, my cock hard from what I had just
witnessed.

Naturally, I didn't let on that I had seen anything as the two boys
gobbled down the baloney sandwiches and chips I prepared for them
later.  Nor, did I let on to David, when we were alone later that
evening, that I had witnessed their sexual romp. So, as David went
back to take his shower, I went back to work on the charcoal portrait
in an attempt to finish it that evening.

"Justin, do you think I'm beautiful?" David's voice asked, prompting
me to look up from my work and turn my head toward the hallway
entrance.

"Shit! Put on some clothes!" I exclaimed, greeted with the sight of a
naked David standing in the doorway, though I could have looked at his
cut, three inch, flaccid, penis and low-hanging balls forever.

"Why? You said the human body is nothing to be ashamed of.  Do you
think I should be ashamed of mine?" he asked, walking toward where I
was sitting.

"No!  You look fine!  Now, go put on some clothes!" I replied.

"Would you do a sketch of me if I asked yah to?" he asked, sitting
himself upon the carpeted floor next to me cross-legged.

"No!  I don't think Scott would like that," I replied, averting my
eyes back to the portrait I was working on, fully aware that my cock
was beginning to harden.

"Why? Cause you're gay and older?" David asked.

"Yeah, that's one reason," I said,, not mentioning the other reason,
which was the fact that I would probably have my face in his crotch
devouring his dick before I even made one stroke with a stick of
charcoal.

"I'm gay, too." David replied.

"You're too young to be gay.  I didn't even realize I was until I was
sixteen," I responded.

"I've been doing stuff since I was nine," he replied.

"What stuff?" I asked, wishing I hadn't.

"Sucking dick, jerking off with other guys, puttin my peter in other
guy's butts and them puttin theirs in mine," the kid replied.

"Good God!" You shouldn't be telling me that shit!" I exclaimed,
laying down the stick of charcoal.

"Well, it's true," the kid responded.

"Look, I'm over ten years older than you are.  I could get in a lot of
trouble if your brother or anyone else even knew we were talking about
this stuff," I said.

"I won't tell anyone.  You're hard, huh?" David asked, then grinned,
showing his perfect white teeth.

"No!  I'm not.  Now go get some clothes on," I responded.

"Yeah you are, I can tell by your shorts," the kid replied.

"Look, we need to stop this and you need to go get some clothes on," I
said, getting up from the stool.

In response, David giggled, for by standing up I had made it totally
obvious that my cock was indeed hard as a rock.

"I told yah, let me see!" David said, and quickly got up off of the
floor and grabbed the waistband of my shorts.

"David, don't!" I exclaimed, but it was too late.

Instantly, the kid shucked down my shorts and my cock sprung free.

"Dang!  You got a nice one!" David said, and reached out and took hold
of my cock with his hand.

"Don't, David! Please!" I exclaimed, any will power I may have had
melting away at the touch of his soft hand surrounding my turgid
member.

"I want to!" He said, looking up at me.

Then, he opened his mouth as wide as he could and bent down and
swooped the head of my rock hard cock into it, which wasn't easy to
do.

Although seven-inches is a respectable length, the width of my penis
is it's main asset.  At over just about two inches wide from below the
head to its base, more than a few guys have had getting it into their
mouth, not to mention up their butt.

"Oh please! Stop David!" I begged, knowing that I didn't really want him to.

Soon, the kid was pulling me down onto the carpeted floor, using my
hard shaft like a handle to pull me downward, and the room quickly
filled with the sounds of our moans and slurps as we writhed in a
frantic sixty-nine on the carpeted floor.

Eventually, I warned the kid I was about to cum.  Yet, with over half
my cock in his mouth he continued to bob his head up and down on my
meat, using his hand to help bring me off.  I blew my load, causing
him to grunt in surprise as my always-copious gushes of sperm filled
his mouth.  He swallowed again and again, like a champ, and used his
hand to milk out the last drops.

Then, he fucked my face with wild abandon, just as he had fucked his
buds five hours before.  I wanted to cum again as he squealed and
began to squirt his sweet, tasty, offering, of boy cum into my mouth,
and I swallowed it as if the gods themselves were giving me something
to drink.

There was no turning back after that, all reservations about having
committed a felony blown away by the smell and taste of the kid's
body.  Yes, I would probably go straight to hell for it.  But, I was
going to have one hell of a time earning that honor.

To be continued.