Date: Mon, 23 Jun 2008 11:03:18 EDT
From: EddyRiha@aol.com
Subject: games with stefan 24

The usual disclaimers apply.  This is a work of fiction, and those folks
who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by moral
preference, or by law should not read any further.

All of the characters presented here are fictional representations,
including the narrator.  Some of the events and characters are inspired by
actual events and people I encountered in my younger days, but the
presentation here of events and characters in no way is meant to portray
actual, historical persons and events.  It's just a story.

All stunts were performed by professionals.  Do not attempt these at home.

Thank you again to all the readers for the encouragement and the
constructive criticism you have provided as I continue to develop this
story.  There are some chapters in process that will wrap up the "Weekend
at My House" story arc, as well as other episodes that my imagination can
cook up.

No football (soccer) players from the UEFA tournament were harmed in the
writing or reading of this story.

If anyone is offended by the premise of the story, or by explicit sexual
acts, please do not read any further.  Why, indeed, have you read this far?

Games With Stefan

Chapter #24--New Year's with Stefan

by eddyriha

The same holiday season I shared with you earlier, back in Chapter 17, I
had another opportunity to spend time with Stefan, alone.  His parents had
decided to celebrate the end of the old year and the beginning of the new
one at the First Night festivities downtown--a largely peaceful, crowded,
congenial atmosphere located over a few city blocks at the heart of town.
They went nearly every year, in contrast to my parents, who preferred to
snuggle at home to the distant sounds of Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's
Eve.

At fifteen, I hadn't yet given much thought to the significance of New
Year's celebrations, so if my church youth group wasn't doing anything
interesting, I would generally go to bed at the usual hour and sleep
through all the noisemaking.  The same for Stefan, except this year, now
that he was thirteen, his Mom and Dad decided he should join them at First
Night.  He protested at first, until, as a means of persuading him to come,
they told him he could invite any one friend to go with them.  Five minutes
later. it was all arranged.  I would be joining the K. family for New
Year's.

As we rode the six miles to downtown, I was a little nervous, quieter than
my usual self, just saying "Yes'm" and "No, sir," in answer to parental
questions.  Not that I was afraid of his parents--they knew nothing about
the fact that their son's ass and mouth had serviced my dick more often
than I could begin to count.  What kept me quiet was in part the fact that
my mind was already plotting to find a place where Stefan and I could get
busy around the midnight hour.  I didn't care much whether I saw the big
ball slide down the specially built pole atop City Hall.  Or the fireworks
they always set off at the same time.  I was much more interested in my
pole and my balls sliding down into Stefan's mouth.  Or ass.  I wasn't too
picky.  It had been two weeks since I'd fucked him under the Christmas
tree, and no amount of masturbating can ever match the feel of a willing
mouth or asshole.  So I was ready to get off, and was grateful for the
heavy winter coat I was wearing, as it kept my nearly constant erection
hidden from parental eyes.

The other reason I was keeping quieter than usual was that Stefan's left
hand, hidden from the sight of the front seat by the folded quilt he was
carrying on his lap, had found its way under the protection of the quilt
and my heavy winter coat, and it was currently nestled between my thighs,
right below my crotch, and it was gently scratching against the fabric of
my jeans, rubbing the material over my balls and cock.  He looked up at me,
and winked.  Stefan was just as horny as I was.  If his parents weren't
sitting in the front seat, I'd have taken him right then, right there.

After his Dad parked the car, he paid for our First Night tickets, and then
we wandered into the crowd.  "You meet us back here by 12:30," his father
suddenly said, as he pointed to the statue of some famous general which
stood near the entry to the First Night area.  "If you're not here on time,
there will be hell to pay."  He turned to me and said, "Now, Eddy, I expect
you to keep an eye on Stefan and not let him get into any trouble.  And
make sure he is back here on time.  You got a watch?"

I showed him the digital on my wrist, and he nodded.  "Here's twenty,:" he
said, handing me a twenty-dollar bill.  "You boys enjoy yourselves, but
stay out of trouble."

As soon as they had walked off, Stefan let out an angry sigh.  "He gives
you the fuckin' twenty.  They never give me any money for stuff like this."

"You want to hang onto it?" I asked.

"Nah," he snorted.  "I'd probably lose it or something.  And then they'd be
proven right--I'm not responsible enough and that kind of shit."

"Well, OK," I said, pocketing the bill.  "But if you see something you'd
like, let me know."

I felt his hand squeeze my butt, underneath my coat.  "You know what I
want," he said, "and it won't cost either of us anything."

"But where do we find a moment of privacy?" I asked as we began walking and
looking around.  The place was starting to fill up, and I couldn't see any
quiet, unlit areas.  It wasn't too cold, so few people would be hanging out
in the shops and restaurants and bars which opened up onto the First Night
grounds.  That meant that most people would be milling around--and someone
would be bound to notice two boys having an intimate moment behind a
dumpster.  If there was even a dumpster in sight.

We walked past a bar where a local band was singing a song that had been on
the college radio station that summer: "rape me, my friend / rape me
again."  Stefan started singing along, and we both started laughing.  I had
that Nirvana CD, but had never dared play that song when my parents were
around.  But when Stefan was in my bedroom. . . .

We ended up standing outside this artsy coffee house kind of place, just
standing there watching people walking around, some couples holding hands
or snuggling as they strolled past.  "Must be nice," I muttered, "to be
able to show your affection in public like that."

"Like my folks would ever accept me doing that," Stefan muttered right
back.  "Even with a girl."

We both started laughing, both about the unlikely mental picture of Stefan
with a girl and his parents' reaction (to say nothing of my own parents'
reaction) if they knew what we did when we were alone.

"It sure is a damn cold night," said a voice suddenly behind us.  I felt
Stefan jump, as we both were startled.  We hadn't realized anyone was that
close to us.

I turned around, to see a woman dressed in a heavy overcoat, her long blond
hair wisping out around the black wool knit hat she had pulled down almost
to her eyes.

"Don't mind me," she said when she saw our startled faces.  "You boys just
look a little cold out here.  What say we get you some hot chocolate?"

I looked at Stefan.  He shrugged, then followed me as the woman held the
coffee house door for us.

"Hey, Wendy, don't let all the cold air in, will ya?" the woman behind the
counter called out, without even looking in our direction.

"That's Brenda," the blond woman whispered.  "Her bark is much worse than
her bite."  She winked.

"I heard that."  Brenda came down to the near end of the counter, wiping
her hands on a white towel.  "What can I get you boys?"

"Hot chocolates," Wendy said.  "How about trying our new white chocolates?"
she asked us.  "It's something new that Brenda and I whipped up this
season."

"Sure, I guess," I replied, fingering the twenty in my pocket.  "How much
do they cost?"  At the time I had no experience buying fancy lattes or
cappuccinos, so I had no idea that anyone would have the audacity to charge
more than 50¢ for a cup.

"They're on the house," Wendy said with a laugh.  She gestured toward the
tables, all of which were crowded with paying customers.  "I figure we're
making enough money tonight, we can treat a couple of chilled pals."

So we perched at the end of the counter, cupping our cold hands around the
steaming cups of hot chocolate and listening as Brenda and Wendy bantered
back and forth, exchanging pleasantries with the other patrons.  Evidently,
many of them were regulars here, and so the lively conversation made both
of us forget how frustrated we were.  Wendy had given us seats on a short
bench against the wall, and Stefan leaned next to me, his right leg holding
firm against my left.  I could feel his breath on my cheek every time he
turned to say something to me, and despite the pleasure both of us were
having from the pleasant atmosphere, I could feel myself becoming aroused
again.  It would not be comfortable to pop a big boner right here, and
there was no way Stefan and I could duck down behind the counter and go at
it.

I finished the last of my chocolate and licked the residual foam from my
upper lip.  "Finish up," I whispered to him, "and let's go.  I'm getting
damn horny."

Stefan laughed suddenly, while he was drinking, and some hot chocolate came
rushing out his nose.  "Don't make me laugh when I'm drinking, you
asshole," he whispered back.

"If you don't hurry up, I'm gonna fuck you right here, right now."  I
shifted my weight on the bench so my coat opened slightly and he could see
the tight bulge in my jeans.

"Thanks for the chocolate," I said to Brenda and Wendy as we started to
leave.

"Hold on, where you off to?" Wendy said.

"Well, it's almost time for the fireworks," I began.

"There's no need to rush off like that," she said in a quieter voice.
"Though I can tell there's bound to be some other fireworks going off
shortly."  And her eyes looked down.  I could tell she had noticed the
bulge in my pants, despite my efforts to keep it hidden.

Both of us blushed and were about to protest, when Wendy said, "Hey, it's
no big deal.  You don't suppose that maybe I've seen that kind of thing
before?"

What did she mean, I wondered to myself.  Was she coming on to us?

Wendy leaned closer and whispered, "You think I'd hang out with Brenda if
she wasn't good in bed?"  And she winked again.

"You mean--"

"Yeah, I could tell about you two the minute I laid eyes on you.  Damn!
How could anyone miss it, the way you two look at each other?"  That was a
question I more than once asked myself in the coming years, as our parents
and close friends all remained entirely oblivious to the games Stefan and I
played.

"Why don't you guys go upstairs?  There's a screened in porch on the back
of the house where you can watch the fireworks and, er, the ball drop."
She accented the word "ball" with a slight leer in her voice.  "It's not
particularly heated, but it's at least sheltered from the outside cold."
So saying, she whispered quietly to Brenda, who glanced in our direction,
and then nodded.  Wendy led us through a door marked "PRIVATE: KEEP OUT"
and up a set of rickety wooden stairs into the overheated warmth of an
apartment that, from the wide range of feminine knickknacks and other
decorations, suggested that two women, and only two women, lived there.

"Here," Wendy opened a door onto a back deck--or maybe balcony--that was
enclosed, though the plexiglass on the windows could in warmer months
clearly be switched with the screens that leaned against one wall.  At one
end, through the alleyway adjacent to the building, I could see the city
square and, even more importantly, City Hall, with the well-lit ball atop
the tower.

"You boys enjoy yourselves," Wendy said.  "Come downstairs when you're, er,
finished."

As soon as we were alone, Stefan turned and embraced me, kissing me on the
lips.  When we separated, the begin stripping off clothing, we realized our
breath was almost crystallizing in the air.  It was a sheltered place, and
clearly no one could see in to discover what we were doing, but it wasn't
warm enough to remove too many clothes.

After a minute, as we were about to give up, I had an idea.  "Here, you
take off your coat," I said.  Slowly, Stefan did so, and then I pulled him
into me and wrapped my coat around him.  "See, you can fit in here, against
me, and you'll be warm enough."

"Cool!" he exclaimed.  After kissing me quickly on the lips, he turned
himself around, keeping close to me under the coat, and he dropped his
jeans and underwear quickly.  "Fuck me, Master, fuck me," he said.  "Fuck
me, fuck me, fuck me!"

He didn't need to urge me.  As soon as I felt him dropping his jeans, I had
already begun to unbuckle my belt and drop my own.  For a moment, I
wondered what we would use for lube--I hadn't brought any Vaseline because
I couldn't imagine a way I'd be able to explain that if it fell out of my
coat pocket.  But then I felt his ass.  It was already slick, already
lubed.

"I knew we would get to do this," Stefan whispered.  "So I put some on
before we left home."  It was the baby oil we'd used many times before, and
the smell of it on my fingers brought so many memories to mind, it was all
I could do to contain myself as I slowly worked my cock into his waiting
hole and began to fuck him.

As I worked my boy's ass, we could hear the loud countdown out in the
square.  Time seemed to slow down, or maybe I just sped up, but as we
reached the end of the countdown, as the ball dropped and the fireworks
exploded over the square, my cock began to twitch and jerk as it shot wad
after wad of cum into Stefan's ass.  At the same time, I felt him begin his
own orgasm, his ass bucking hard against my cock, causing me to wring every
last bit of cum from my balls.

The back of Stefan's neck was covered with small beads of sweat as our
breathing slowed back to normal.  I licked up the sweat from his neck,
salty, tasty, the taste of my boy.  We each pulled up our jeans, still
huddling together in the warm glow of our fuck, and our lips met again and
again.  I wanted to hold him forever, to kiss and fuck him without
stopping.  But in a half hour, his parents would be angry if we weren't
back to the car, and the world can't stop and wait for two lovers, now can
it?

Wendy greeted us with a smile when we came back downstairs.  "Have fun?"
she asked in a whisper and a wink.

"Yeah," I said.  Stefan just smiled the way he did when he had an ass full
of my cum.

"Good," she replied.  Then she handed us each a Styrofoam cup of the white
hot chocolate.  "This is to go."

"Are you sure--?"

She nodded.  "It's not everyday we get lovers in here."  And the way she
accented the word "lovers" made it clear to each of us what exactly she
meant.  "You two come back and visit us any time, you hear?"

We nodded and stepped out the door, clutching our hot chocolates closely
and walking hand in hand, not caring who might happen to see us.  We were
in love and had celebrated that fact in the first moments of the new year.
Damn, but it was going to be a great year!