Date: Tue, 01 Jun 1999 17:47:16 PDT From: "Robert J. Cutter" <cutter57@hotmail.com> Subject: "Wine Country - Chapter 6" (Teen/Teen) Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains the depictions of consensual sex between teenage males. If this or any other aspect of male/male sex offends you or if you are averse to anything homosexual, please go elsewhere. Author's Note: This is the sixth chapter in a novel length work about Jack and Jevin, their friends and families. It begins a new phase in the work by introducing new characters who will grow in importance. Please take a minute or two and send me any comments at my e-mail address: cutter57@hotmail.com. Just a few words are sufficient. Please understand that this is the only feedback I get; I truly have no idea of how many of you are reading and following this series. If I do not receive sufficient responses, then I must stop what I am doing and pursue other projects. If you love these characters, as I do, and want to know about their futures please take a few minutes and send me a note. Thank you. WINE COUNTRY Copyright 1999 by Robert J. Cutter - All Rights Reserved The author retains all rights to this story. It is not permissible to distribute it to any newsgroups and/or other web sites without the express written consent and permission of the author. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - Nick's Story (Part 1) Hi. My name is Nick - Nicholas Xavier Turner, to give my full, legal name - and I am twenty-eight years old. I am Jack Turner's nephew. I live with him in that big house up in northern Sonoma County, up in wine country; I also work for him in his auto repair shop, Jack's Garage. I specialize in the repair and maintenance of older and antique cars. For those of you who are too young to know, these were cars without built in computers or other complex electronic components; they were basically all mechanical devices with a few electrical basics. Some say they are still the greatest cars ever built on this planet. One needs to be a good mechanic and not a computer or electronics wizard to fix and maintain them. I went to work full time for Uncle Jack after I graduated from college. Uncle Jack had extensive alterations made to an unused bay at the back of his shop for my use. It's separated from the main work area. I need certain customized facilities so that I could work properly. I am what would be called by some severely handicapped. I think of myself as being inconvenienced by my physical limitations. But I lead a pretty normal and somewhat interesting life, although outside of Uncle Jack, there is really no one else important in my life. And there hasn't been for a very long time. Let's start back in Fresno, California, where I was born. I was the first child born to my parents - Jeanne and Fred Turner. My mother was primarily a homemaker; she stayed home and took care of the house and the children. My father worked as a laborer. He did anything to earn money, from working in factories to picking grapes in the vineyards. Neither of my parents had much of an education; in fact, I think only my mom graduated from high school. I say "I think" because I really knew very little about my father. Uncle Jack - who's my father's youngest brother - told me what information I dohave. My father was the oldest of five brothers. For those of you who know Fresno - what can I say? To know it is to hate it. It is flat, hot and ugly. It is in the middle of one of the greatest agricultural areas of the world - the Central Valley of California. A lot of produce is grown there and much of it is grapes, although the grapes are primarily of the eating variety and not the wine making variety. The Thompson Seedless is the staple of the area. Some wine wags have dubbed it the "Fresno Chardonnay". We lived in what some called a "modest home"; I'd call it a run down shit hole. It was a dump on the edge of a dump. It had a kitchen, living room, three bedrooms and one bathroom. There was also a front porch and a back porch. There was no basement. The house was located on the fringe of the city near many vacant lots. As kid we used to play in those lots. It was an area referred to as "working class"; what it really was was poor. There was poor electrical service and poor plumbing and poor heating. I never remember seeing my father make any repairs to this fuckin' hovel. As I have already said, I was the oldest of four children; my sister Rosemarie was born two years after me, my sister Annette two years after Rosemary, and my brother Francis (Frankie) two years after Annette. I think the spacing of their children two years apart was the only organized thing my parents ever did in their lives. We had what was called a "deprived childhood". We went to a camp for underprivileged children for two weeks each summer. We were taken to Christmas gatherings where we were given one toy each and things like underwear, socks and gloves. People came to our house with cartons of used clothing and cans of food. Some of us were even paraded in front of rich people at charity organizations to get contributions from them. Remember, please, that these were the Reagan years, when being poor was considered by those in power as a crime against the stability and security of the United States. We did have a television (a color one) and a telephone (rotary dial) in the house. I suppose those are real necessities in today's (or even yesterday's) world. We had an old wreck of a car. The car was a complete necessity because dad had to be able to get to the various jobs he held periodically. And that was it for possessions. There were no savings accounts, checking accounts, credit cards or IRAs. We were poor. However, as kids we really didn't know this. It did not prevent us from having relatively happy childhoods. The large vacant lots that surrounded our house were our playgrounds. They were also the dumping grounds for a variety of large pieces of refuse, mostly old cars. When we were very young, my sisters and I would play in them. They pretended they were houses for their husband (me) and their children (their dollies). I always pretended to drive these old wrecks. I would make all the appropriate sounds and shift the gears and use the parking brake. I loved those old cars. When I was six my brother Frankie was born. The night he was born, I knew something was terribly wrong. My father came home from the hospital and looked like he had been crying. I asked what had happened, but he just pushed me away and went to his room. I think he had been drinking before he got home. A few days later mom came home without Frankie. She told us that the baby was very sick. We asked what was wrong with him and she told us that Frankie was born with spina bifida. She explained that Frankie had a hole in his spine and that there would be surgery to repair the problem. However, she told us between sobs, that Frankie would never be able to walk without the use of heavy leg braces and crutches. When Frankie was finally brought home he was two months old and we were all very curious about his condition. Mom put him in the crib that was set up in the living room. All us kids gathered around the crib and looked at him. He seemed very normal - except he did not cry or move much. All he did was move his head from side to side and move his little arms some. He was a beautiful child, probably the best looking of all us kids. When I walked up to his crib to take my first peek at him, he looked at me with his great big dancing blue eyes - and he smiled. I was immediately in love with him - with all my heart and with all my soul I was totally in love with him. Things never returned to "normal" after Frankie's arrival. Dad was away for long periods at a time, claiming job problems. Mom stayed in her room much of the time; we even had to move the TV in her bedroom. She came out to eat and cook meals and sometimes to take care of Frankie, but that was it. I say she came out "sometimes to take care of Frankie" because when I was home, I took care of him. I fed him, bathed him, changed his diapers and played with him. He was so gorgeous and such a happy baby. I loved him so much. I could not wait to get home from school so that I could be with him. We still all played "house" in the abandoned cars only now Frankie was "the baby" for my sisters. Frankie's crib was eventually moved to my room and for the first time in my life I had a roommate. I was thrilled. He would be in his crib and coo and giggle at me whenever I made funny faces or played games like hide-n-seek or peek-a-boo with him. I became almost totally responsible for him except when mom had to take him to the doctor or to see the physical therapist. I loved the little guy dearly, and when we were alone in my room together I even pretended that I was his father. When Frankie was about nine months old I noticed that Mom started going to church more and more often. We were born and raised Catholic but I can't remember going to church very much - you know, the usual Christmas, Easter and maybe once more during the year visits. Mom began watching all of these television ministers and listening to an all-religious radio station. She began going to church three and four times a week and sometimes she would take Frankie with her. She would come home with pamphlets and little pictures; to my eyes these things didn't look Catholic. One Friday I came home from school and no mom - and no Frankie. My sister Annette said that mom told them that she was going to get a cure for Frankie. I was getting frantic because I noticed that she didn't take Frankie's medication with her. It was after midnight when she walked in the door. I had fallen asleep on the living room sofa and woke up with a start, because Frankie was screaming his little head off. She calmly put Frankie into his crib and went into her room and closed the door. I took care of my baby brother. I cleaned him, fed him, gave him his medication and took him to sleep with me in my bed. It was a wonderful feeling having someone sharing my bed with me and it was great that it was Frankie. I cuddled him and rubbed his back. I fondled him and he loved it and I loved it. The following morning I found out that mom had taken Frankie to a faith healing meeting in Oakland. Of course, it hadn't worked. ----------------------------------------------- Things went along in their usual stumbling and bumbling fashion; we were living a very meager existence. Without handouts, food stamps, free medical assistance for Frankie and the exchange of services for goods, we would have surely not have lasted. Of course, Frankie didn't last. The only happy parts of my life were going to school and Frankie. We slept together as often as we could, which was almost every night. I loved the feel of his little warm, crippled body against mine. We both slept great when we slept together. I never worried about rolling onto him when I slept because I was a very calm sleeper. He would snuggle his little body close to mine and we would sleep very peacefully. I kissed him whenever I could. And then there was school. I loved school and did very well. I loved the process of learning and still do. It was fun and an adventure. All the teachers thought I was very bright and I could read, write and do math at more advanced levels than my grade. When I was eight, dad basically returned. He became very interested in his kids, especially me. He was enthusiastic about sports. Now I liked sports but I was not very good at them. I was very thin and tall for my age. I was also very uncoordinated. However, dad wanted me in sports and so sports it was. I went out for Little League baseball and junior football. I was poor at both, but dad kept pushing; he would practice with me and encourage me, and eventually I began to really like it and I became good at it. As I said before, I liked to learn, and this was more learning. I really liked the camaraderie and friendship with the other boys. It was fun playing grab-ass in the bus or the dugout or the locker room. I also became quite proficient in both sports - a triumph of will and determination over natural ability. When he was three Frankie was given a child size electric wheelchair by some charity and some volunteers from a local church built a ramp at the font door. Now he was able to get around the house and the surrounding areas with ease. He loved the chair and we would play football in the backyard for hours. I would toss him the ball and he would take off in his chair and try to get passed me. He would laugh hysterically every time he successfully evaded me. I loved playing with him, and I loved him immensely. The years passed rather uneventfully as I remember. Frankie was sick with something or other most of the time but I didn't worry about catching anything from him too much. We slept together and as he got older he would cuddle with me. It was so relaxing and wonderful. It was great having him there at night making me feel good and needed and wanted and loved. The winter after I was eleven was a very difficult one. The weather was unusually cold and everyone in the family got sick, probably because of our bad heating system. Poor little Frankie got hit very hard and I knew he was suffering. When I came home from school one day there was an ambulance in front of the house. I went tearing inside, only to find that he had died one hour earlier. The doctor later said it was pneumonia. They didn't even let me see his little body before they took him away to the funeral home. He died without me being able to say goodbye. "Frankie!" I screamed. "My Frankie. Oh, my Frankie." I was absolutely devastated. I felt that the light of my world had been extinguished. I did not cry, though; I just continued to scream and moan. I went into our room, locked the door and crawled into his crib and fell asleep. The next few days were hellish. People were constantly coming over to the house expressing their sorrow. They really didn't give a shit for my poor, dead Frankie! They were just trying to justify their total lack of concern for his welfare when he was alive. I didn't go to the wake and for the funeral I stayed in the back of the church and did not sit with my family. I also did not go to the cemetery; I just went home and cried, curled up in Frankie's empty crib. I have only visited Frankie's little grave once. During the summer before I went to college, Uncle Jack took me to the cemetery. I kneeled down in front of his little tombstone and began crying uncontrollably. I think I stayed there for about a half an hour; I continued to cry even when we returned to the car. It was very traumatic, but I think I needed to get over that phase of my life before leaving Fresno - forever. ----------------------------------------------- That winter was so barren. Without Frankie I was totally at loose ends. My reason for living was gone. I managed to keep up my school grades because I planned to make something of my life and get out of this fucking pigsty they called a home. When spring came and baseball season arrived, I was able to find an outlet for my pent-up energies and frustrations. As a player I became really good at first base and our team did very well. We finished second in our division. I still grieved mightily for my lost baby brother but only in private. I missed him so much, it hurt. I longed to hold him and feel his body against mine as we slept. God! I loved him so much! At this point, my Uncle Jack became a factor in my life. He was already out of the Army when Frankie died and he realized how hard I was taking the little guy's death. Uncle Jack was then the service manager of a new automobile dealership in San Francisco and living in that city. He also played semi-pro football and baseball locally during the seasons and he would come to our house to visit whenever he could. He would bring me to the games. In fact I would was able to go into the dressing rooms and see the players change. I sort of became a team's mascot. During the summer Uncle Jack and I would go swimming, camping or fishing. It was fun. I remember that I always had a great time when I was with him. I also noticed that dad and Uncle Jack didn't talk much. Uncle Jack and I worked together on those old cars in the dumps. He would take things apart and show me things and teach me various procedures. He also kept dad's car in good repair. Then fall football season started again; I also showed great improvement in my play here. I had grown, gained weight and became much stronger. The coach started grooming me to play quarterback because of my size and agility. Dad was thrilled. His son was going to be the quarterback of the team; this was a big advantage with his drinking buddies. ----------------------------------------------- And so the years passed and so did elementary school and junior high school. I became a very good athlete - some say excellent. I stopped playing baseball after Little League and ran track instead. I ran the 200 and 400 meter and participated in the high jump. The coaches tried to get me involved in basketball because I was tall for my age, but the game really didn't interest me. I continued playing with the old wrecks in the vacant lots, but now I was taking apart the engines, transmissions, differentials, and putting them back together again. I found out a lot about the workings of those old heaps. In fact, I was even able to start one once. It was a great thrill and dad was very proud of me. Eventually, when I was thirteen, dad me had look at a pickup truck of one of his buddies. I was able to pinpoint the problem, get the required parts, and fixed the problem. Everyone thought I was an automotive genius. I started fixing up cars after school and on weekends. And the greatest part was that I was being paid to do it. Dad took most of the money, though. Mom continued to visit religious kooks and fortune tellers, and dad continued to drink and work sporadically. She eventually got a full-time job in a local factory since my father could not be counted on to bring in a regular paycheck. My two younger sisters were developing into very good-looking young women, but they were definitely on the wild and slutty side and would stay out late most nights of the week. They did not like school - just boys. And I began to suspect so did I. I entered puberty around twelve; we Turner males mature early. I started growing quite rapidly, and my little dick and balls were not so little any more. Then came the patch of blonde hair over my cock, the sprinkling of hair under my arms, my voice changing, etc. etc. The strange fact is, as I recall it now, was that I did not masturbate very much. Not before puberty and not after; in fact, not at all. I remember waking up after having wet dreams, but I do not seem to recall ever jacking-off. When I was fourteen I went into high school as a freshman and was overjoyed. Now I'd be playing football with the big guys. The team had tryouts on two blisteringly hot days in mid-August. They lasted most of the day, and my dad drove me there. We were all constantly drinking gallons of water and other liquids. By the end of the first day, we were completely wrung out and I barely made it limping to dad's car. But we all came back for the second day, and it was more of the same. When that was over (including a light scrimmage against the varsity team) the coach had us all sit in a circle. They thanked us and told us that the coaching staff would evaluate each candidate and we would be notified by mail. The letter came three days later. I was the first string quarterback for the JV team. Everybody was very happy but dad was absolutely thrilled. He was on cloud nine. I have never seen him happier. The team practiced every day for three hours at the high school athletic field. I liked it very much. But what I enjoyed even more was taking a shower after the practice. I noticed that I was beginning to appreciate the bodies of young teens. The locker room showers were my favorite area; both the varsity and the JV practiced together so we showered and dressed together. Seeing all those young, naked teen bodies, with their growing dick and hanging ball, was a thrill. I didn't understand but it gave me a big charge. The second string quarterback on the varsity team was an Italian-American guy name Mario Vincent Cossatello. Vinny, as everyone called him, had very long dark brown hair, which he wore in a ponytail, dark eyes and dark skin. He was three years older than me, and was very good looking. He was what I thought about at night when I went to sleep. His cock was very long, uncut and he had really low hanging balls. He was also quite hairy for a seventeen-year-old. I was much to shy to make any sort of play for him but luckily for me he made the first moves. It was after a practice. He came over to my locker after we had showered. He was towel drying his hair and I was getting dressed. I was seated on the bench and he was completely naked and rubbing that long dark hair of his. He put one foot up on the bench and I found myself staring at his dangling uncut cock. He moved around as he dried his hair and that handsome dick and balls of his were swinging from side to side. I stared at them for a few seconds like I was in a trance, then looked up into his face. He gave me a beautiful smile and said, "You doing anything this weekend?" "I-I-I don't think so. My folks haven't said anything." "Maybe we could go to the movies together or somethin'." "That'd be nice." "I understand that you're quite a brain." I looked down at the locker room floor. "Some guys say that." "How good are you in English?" "Okay, I suppose." He paused a bit. "Do ya think you could help me with some problems I'm havin'." "Yeah, but you're a junior and I'm only a freshman. What help could I be?" He smiled a wonderful full smile at me. "Oh, believe me, you can be plenty of help with what I need." With that he scratched his balls and pulled on his dick a bit. My eyes were riveted to his crotch. I looked up at him again and he smiled again. "I'll give ya a call sometimes," he said as he walked away, swinging his sexy butt at me. Vinny did call on Friday night. He wanted to go to a movie. I said it would be great, and he picked me up around seven. We drove to a nearby movie house, parked, went in and saw the movie. I don't remember what it was, but I do remember that at one point during the film Vinny put his hand on mine. I looked over into his face and he was smiling a warm, gentle smile. I smiled back. After the movie we went to the local burger hangout and downed a few burgers and fries. Vinny drove me home and just before I got out of the car he put one of his hands to the back of my neck and pulled my face gently towards him. He kissed me lightly on the lips. I looked at him in stunned disbelief, but he only smiled at me. I very hesitantly kissed him back, smiled at him and started to get out of the car. "I like ya Nicky," he said softly. I turned back to him. "I like you too, Vinny." We kissed again and I was really enjoying the feel of his lips on mine. He smelled wonderful. I put my hand on the back of his neck and our kisses became a little stronger. When we broke, I said, "That was very nice, Vinny. Good night and thanks." I opened the car door and got out. "Good night, Nicky. See ya on Monday." With that he drove away. That night, lying in bed, I was totally confused. I had kissed a boy and I had loved it! I thought about what I had done with Vinny and I got this very warm feeling. My cock also started getting hard when I replayed the scene in Vinny's car. I was thoroughly and maddeningly bewildered. But I liked the effect it had on me. I had a wet dream that night. ----------------------------------------------- Our first JV game of the season was a total blowout for us, and I didn't even play in the second half. I was a bit reckless but I did everything right and I was cheered by the crowd - a small crowd, but a crowd nonetheless. My family was there and loved every minute. Afterwards, my folks took all us kids out for burgers and ice cream. It was the best day of my life since Frankie died. Vinny and I had only two more "dates". I found myself looking forward to each one very much. I made sure that I looked my very best for him; I didn't understand why I did this, but I spent a lot of time showering and making myself look good. Why did I want to look so good for a guy? We went to the movies again, but this time in a town far from Fresno. He looked wonderful...and so sexy. He smelled great again. We sat in the darkened theater and held hands, and Vinny put his arm over my shoulder. After the movie we went to still another burger joint and ate something; what I remember most is the way we looked into each other's eyes. On the drive back Vinny put his hand on my thigh and slowly began rubbing it. I felt my cock beginning to grow in my shorts. It was an amazing feeling. He looked over and smiled at me; I smiled back at him. I noticed that he had spread his legs apart a bit, so I put my hand on his thigh, rubbing the inside of it lightly. Somehow I got surprisingly bold, and I slowly began to move my hand nearer and nearer to his crotch. Finally I rested my hand on his bulge and felt the warmth coming from between his legs. Vinny moaned slightly. "Nicky, good buddy, I love what y'are doing, but I really have to drive," he said softly. "Right. We can save this for a later time." He gave me a wicked smile and I blushed and smiled back at him. "Not too much later, I hope," he replied. When we got to my house we parked about 500 feet away and we began to "neck". He taught me how to French kiss and I loved it. His tongue explored every corner of my mouth and I began to suck on this smooth intruder. He then withdrew his tongue and I slowly put my tongue into his mouth. We continued doing this for about ten minutes. He put his hand on my crotch and began rubbing my very hard cock. I did the same with him and soon we were both breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouth. All of a sudden I got a feeling of pain in my dick and my body started to jerk slightly. I got this wonderful tingling feeling all over my body and I felt something wet shooting into my underwear. Vinny kept say, "I'm coming. I'm coming." I didn't know what he meant but he grunted strongly and threw his head back. We slumped back into the car seats. We were l both breathing heavily. Vinny finally turned his head to me, smiled and said, "That was great, Nicky. I really like ya a lot." "I liked it too, Vinny. A lot!" We kissed a few more times and he drove me to the front door of my house. He gave me a light kiss before I left the car. "I'll call ya," he said as he drove off. I had trouble walking because of the wetness in my shorts and jeans. When I got undressed I noticed white stuff in my shorts. It looked just like the stuff when I had a wet dream. I crawled under the covers. I was thinking of Vinny and how wonderful it was to be with him and how much he meant to me. I found my cock getting hard as I thought of his beautiful face and strong body and really big dick and balls and how wonderfully he smelled. I also started thinking about the terms some of the guys used - like "fags", "queers" and "pansies" - for men who like other men. "I don't give a shit," I told myself. "I like Vinny." I fell asleep quickly, thinking of Vinny all the time. For our next date Vinny had planned something really special. He told me in advance to plan on a very, very late evening, so I told my mom not to wait up for me. She was totally oblivious to anything I said however. He picked me up about four o'clock and we were off. He said it was a long drive to where we were going. We ate dinner at a nice restaurant, went to a movie again and then came the highlight of the night and one of the high points of my life. We went to a gay teen club. I never thought there were such things as gay clubs let alone gay teen clubs. Vinny said he'd never been to a gay club before and of course neither had I. He said he'd heard about it through an "underground" source. It was a gay nightclub for teenagers - there was no liquor served only soft drinks (overpriced, of course, but who cared?) It was a completely illegal operation. If too many people got wind of it I'm sure the gay bashers would've crashed it and trashed it. It was like in a group of abandoned stores that you had to get to through somebody's backyard and garage. They had a DJ and a very good, very young rock band playing. It was a wonderful night. There were guy couples, girl couples and mixed couples, and Vinny and I danced together. I loved it! We kissed frequently and stroked each other, as we danced to the slow, sexy music. I loved being held in his arms - I felt so comfortable and so safe and, most of all, so loved. We left the place at about midnight and Vinny drove to a motel. He had really planned this date to a tee. We checked in and went to our room. It was an okay room, decorated in a sort of motel modern, but with a great big waterbed in the middle. I flopped down backward onto the bed and bounced around for a few minutes. It was certainly fun. I got up and went into the bathroom to piss and Vinny walked right in. He kissed me hard on the lips as I peed and I think I missed the bowl. He whipped out his dick and peed along with me. It was different and fun. I loved the look of Vinny's dick; I could never take my eyes off of it when we were in the locker room or the shower together. We went back into the bedroom and Vinny turned on the TV. The motel had the usual crappy channels but also had some hard core sex channels. There were a total of five - three with men and women, one with women and women and one with men and men. Vinny and I were only interested in the last one. The movies, of course, were really lousy, but we watched them anyway for about thirty minutes. The guys were good looking and had huge cocks but they were not as interesting to me as the guy I was with in the room. Vinny was the sexiest guy I had ever seen and I knew I was in love with him. Vinny started to unbutton his shirt, but I stopped him. "Let me do it for you, Vin." He smiled at me and sat up. I sat next to him and slowly began to unbutton the shirt. Vinny wasn't wearing an undershirt and I let my hands play against his very hairy chest. It felt so great and I felt little pings of electricity racing through my body. I took the shirt completely off and tossed it aside. Vinny then reached for my shirt and did the same for me. I loved the feel of his fingers as they delicately played with my blonde chest hairs. "We're both so hairy, Nick. Except you're so blonde and I'm so dark." He chuckled. "It's really great. I love it so much." "I love you so much, Vinny." He leaned into me and we kissed passionately and long. His lips were so soft and cushiony and I felt chills running up and down my entire body. I just loved kissing Vinny and I think he loved kissing me. It was so comforting and so loving - the first time I had felt that way since Frankie died. When Frankie and I were cuddling in bed together I felt so loved and so loving. Now, years after Frankie had died, I was feeling that way again with Vinny. It was so wonderful that it brought tears to my eyes. "Let's get completely naked, Nick. Okay?" I nodded enthusiastically. I loved what he was doing to my body and I didn't want it to stop. I also want to do things to his body. I really didn't know what I would do but I knew that I wanted to do it. Vinny was making feel so damned good! We pulled our clothes off and threw them on the floor and jumped into bed together. We lay down and Vinny wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. It was so awesome! I was incredibly excited and so was Vinny. I had never felt anything like it in all my life - being held and comforted by someone I loved. I could feel our dicks pushing against the other's body - it was fuckin' awesome! I knew that Vinny had the bigger cock but it didn't bother me at all. I wasn't ashamed of my size or anything. Feeling his great, wonderful dick pressing into me was thrilling. We kissed and kissed and kissed and then Vinny started to move his hands down my back and onto my ass cheeks. He rubbed them and massaged them and I felt so wonderful. I was in love with this boy - I just knew I had to have all of him for myself. Vinny moved his head down to my right nipple and began licking it with his tongue. God! What a feeling - it was absolutely electric! He moved over to my other nipple and did the same thing to it, but he also brought his hand up and began to squeeze the nipple he wasn't tonguing. It was just the most wonderful feeling I had ever felt. And I told him so. "Vinny, oh Vinny," I panted. "I've never felt this way before. It's so wonderful, so very, very wonderful!" "Thanks, Nick. I knew you'd like it. But wait, there's much more and the best is yet t'come." We kissed deeply again and then he started tonguing down my chest, licking and slurping me everywhere. When he got to my belly button he dove his tongue deep into it. It was so wonderful that I didn't want Vinny to stop - ever! He did stop though and moved to my crotch area. I heard him breathe deeply and sigh as he exhaled. "Oh, Nicky. You just smell so great! I love your big bushy crotch hair and your delicious smell." I panted my thanks to Vinny as he continued to sniff me. Suddenly I felt his tongue licking through my pubic mound. I went totally bonkers! I had never felt such a wonderful sensation in my entire life. It was like I was being awakened to some magnificent feelings that had been hidden away from me all of my life. And now Vinny was releasing them and it was awesome! I raised my hands and began to soothingly rub his beautiful head; I moved my fingers through his hair, tickled his ears and moved them over his face and neck. I moved them further down and tweaked his very erect nipples. He seemed to love that and I continued tweaking and rubbing them while he continued to work on my crotch and my dick. He moved his tongue to the base of my dick and began to lick on all sides of it. Now I had (and still have) a very thick dick and it felt so marvelous as he moved his hot tongue all around and around the base. My cock was not that big then (under six-inches) but it was incredibly thick; it's a trait of all us Turners. The warmth of his saliva, the feel of his tongue and the stream of air coming from his nose had me tremendously excited. It was like I was whisked away from this ordinary motel room to some distant South Seas tropical island - all warmth, sunshine and total relaxation. Vinny was doing a marvelous job on me and I knew that I would be shooting my load pretty soon. I moved my hand down Vinny's hairy chest and felt for his hard cock. When I took hold of it I noticed all the pre-cum Vinny was leaking out and I worked it all around the head of his cock. His foreskin had pulled back and the entire sensitive head of his dick was exposed. Vinny had one helluva dick when it was hard. He was hung like a horse! It felt fabulous in my hand and I knew it would feel even better in my mouth when I got my chance with him. Vinny started moving his mouth slowly up and down the shaft of my cock and I fuckin' near died! I almost DIED! I didn't know how much of this incredible feeling I could take without blowin' a major blood vessel! But Vinny kept working and working, sucking in more and more and putting more pressure on my cock and rubbing my hairy balls with his free hand. He was really working over those balls and I was getting hotter and hotter and starting to scream various obscenities. I started to really jack Vinny, grabbing hold of his man dick and starting to pump it and pump it for all it was fuckin' worth. Vinny was making all kinds of noises too and I could feel the wonderful rumblings of his mouth around my pole. All at once I felt Vinny's dick starting to get thicker - what the fuck was happening? It got really thick - and then I felt something warm shooting all over my chest and side. Oh GOD! Vinny was coming! Vinny was coming all over me! He dick was twitching away and he was shooting his cum all over me. God it was great! GREAT! I screamed! I screamed again! Then suddenly I became absolutely motionless on the bed. And my dick fucking exploded! FUCKING EXPLODED! I realized that I was pumping my load into Vinny's incredibly sucking mouth. It felt...it felt like every ounce of strength I had in me was rushing out my dick and into Vinny. It was the greatest feeling I had ever felt. It was absolutely stupendous! God! I loved him so much...he was so good to me...and for me. After I don't know how long, Vinny pulled off my dick and collapsed onto my body. I was totally wiped out and so was Vinny. I slowly massaged his back and sides and anywhere I could reach; I just wanted to touch him all over. I wanted to feel my wonderful Vinny being with me. I was also totally in love with him...I wanted him as my man forever. The End of Chapter 6