Date: Sun, 25 Jan 1998 19:43:52 PST
From: J.O. Dickingson <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: TARAN AND JT

	As Taran's father headed along North Hollywood Freeway, Taran Noah
Smith was oblivious to the traffic.  It had been a great meeting, and
Nick's agent had next to guaranteed he would be on the next Help-Athon.
With the additional television coverage and his latest movie, "Little
Bigfoot, The Journey Home", playing in the theatres, his career was really
taking off.  Before Taran knew it, they had turned off West Victory
Boulevard and were heading up Burbank City's Buena Vista Street.

	Dropping Taran off at the Walt Disney Studios, his dad went to
check out some aviation equipment while Taran headed for the Home
Improvement set.  The meeting had ended much earlier than he had
anticipated and he had a good hour before the arrival of his friend and
co-star, Jonathan Taylor Weiss, better known by his stage name Jonathan
Taylor Thomas, and known to his friends as JT.  Taran had a big audition
coming up, and despite his success, he was nervous about it.  Jonathan had
promised to help him prepare.  The Disney studio seemed a good place to
meet.  It was Sunday so they would have the set to themselves, and they
were both going to be in the area anyway.  Finding the time between all
their charity work and promotional appearances, not to mention their
careers and homework, had been the biggest problem.

	Flopping down on the sofa chair and throwing his legs over the arm,
he began to review his lines one more time, but he was too excited to sit
long.  He got up and began to pace as he rehearsed.  Catching his image in
the floor length hall mirror, he paused to admire himself.  He looked cool
in his black jeans and black T-shirt.  Like his character on Home
Improvement, he liked dark clothes.  He struck several poses before the
mirror.  Over the past half year he had grown almost an inch a month and
now stood at five foot seven, six inches taller than his friend JT, which
felt weird considering Jonathan was three years older than he was.

	Taran was a little on the thin side, but he liked that.  It made
him look, well, sexier he felt.  He ran his hands over his slim waist and
narrow hips.  It was not just his height that had been growing by the
inches he thought with a smile as his hands converged at his crotch.  The
thought of his wiener caused it to begin to swell.  At thirteen years and
nine months of age, it did not take much to get it up.

	Before he got into a condition that he would not be able to do
anything about, he turned away from the mirror and began to rehearse again.
As he paced and swung his arms dramatically he almost knocked over the
laundry basket, a prop that was used on almost every episode of the show.
His television mom, Jill, was always folding clothes.  Being the only
female in a house of four males, most of the clothing was male of course.
As a gag at the last shooting, the prop men had put in some frilly black
undies.  Taran thought about that for a moment and then began to rummage
through the basket.  The clothing was still there.

	Taking out the black lace panties, Taran held them in front of his
crotch and turned to look at himself in the mirror.  The smooth silk felt
great.  He imagined that it would feel even greater if it was touching the
skin it was supposed to.  On impulse he drew down his fly and withdrew his
semi-erect organ.  As he slid the silk panties over his wiener, it began to
swell again.  He considered his next step for barely more than a second.
Kicking off his shoes, he lowered his jeans and stepped out of them and
then did the same with his boxers.  He stepped into the panties and drew
them up.  The panties fit well, and he was right, they felt great.

	Returning to the basket with his wiener now tenting out the
panties, he continued to rummage through the clothing until he found
everything he needed.  Removing his shirt, he slipped on the black bra and
after some struggling, managed to snap it up.  Why they would design
something so awkward to put on he could not imagine.  It made him thankful
he was a male.  He removed his socks and put on the pantyhose.  They felt
great against his long, smooth legs too.  Slipping on the sweater and
stepping into the skirt, he returned to the mirror and examined himself.
Not bad!  He struck several poses and batted his eyelashes at the image.

	"Say there good looking, have you seen that nerd Taran around?"

	Taran's heart dropped and he wished he could die!  He knew that
voice.  How was he going to explain this?  He slowly turned around.
Jonathan stood there in the doorway, a wide grin on his face and a twinkle
in his eyes.  Taran waited for the evident wisecrack.

	"Mm, mm, maybe if I get lucky, he won't show and it'll just be me
and you gorgeous."

	"Well," said Taran in falsetto as he put his hands on his hips, "If
Taran doesn't show up maybe you will get lucky, big boy."

	"Big boy?  Well, you've evidently heard right about that," Jonathan
quipped as he ran his hands along his crotch suggestively.

	"After all," Taran said coquettishly, "how can a girl resist that
sexy smile and those cute dimples.  A girl would do anything to be alone
with you!"  Actually, more than one fan letter had claimed just that.

	"Well sexy, a guy could say the same thing about you.  How can a
boy resist those smooth, creamy legs and those fantastic boobs?" JT asked
with a grin as he stepped up to Taran.

	"So, do you have anything in particular in mind?"

	"I'm sure once we get started something will come up," Jonathan
quipped suggestively.

	"Why, whatever do you mean?"

	"Let's can the talking and get down to some action, and I'll show
you sweetheart."

	Grabbing Taran by the shoulders and spinning him around, Jonathan
leaned him back and bent over for a stage kiss.  As joke, Taran drew
himself up and gave Jonathan a kiss right on the lips.  Taran had never
kissed anyone on the lips before, boy or girl, and it gave him a strange
ache inside even if it was just a joke, and even if the kiss was only for a
second.

	 Not to be outdone, Jonathan held him tighter and returned the
kiss, planting his lips firmly against Taran's and not just for a second.
As an afterthought, he forced his tongue between Taran's lips and into his
mouth.  He had kissed girls before, but he had never gotten up enough nerve
to French kiss.  Much to his surprise, and consternation, he found that
slipping his tongue into Taran's mouth was very erotic.  As he felt his
organ begin to swell, he quickly broke off the kiss.

	"Oh, JT, you're a wonderful kisser, just like I imagined you would
be," Taran gushed, keeping up the play acting although it was definitely
getting him aroused.  He was finding this very sexy, and his reaction,
especially to the kiss, was a bit upsetting.

	"Wait until you see what else I'm wonderful at," Jonathan teased,
confused by what was happening to his body but enjoying the joke too much
to stop.  Like the character he played on Home Improvement, he did not like
to take life too seriously.  Slipping his hand under Taran's sweater, he
easily pushed up the loose bra.  He ran his hands over the smooth, hairless
chest, pretending to be feeling his boobs.  To his surprise, Taran's
nipples were hard.

	That surprised Taran too, and as Jonathan ran his fingers over the
little, firm nubs, he quivered with the strange sensation that was both
pleasurable and painful.  Keeping up the act, Taran ran his hands over
Jonathan's firm tight buttocks.  Doing that just seemed like the right
thing to do, especially with the sensations rippling though his irritated
nipples.

	As he pressed against JT, he was shocked back to reality.  Despite
the layers of clothing between the two boys, Taran very definitely felt
Jonathan's erection press against him.  That meant JT had to have felt his
own.  Jonathan quickly withdrew his hands and stepped back, as did Taran.
The two boys stood there in mortification.  Taran began to turn beet red.

	"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Taran?" Jonathan finally
asked with a smirk.

	"Like what?"

	"Well, we could begin with your new wardrobe, and as elegantly as
you look, I don't mean your fashion sense," Jonathan wisecracked.

	"I was just fooling around."

	"You're not really a cross dresser."

	"No way," Taran blurted.  "What exactly is a cross dresser?"

	"A guy who gets turned on dressing up in women's clothes."

	"No way!  I was just . . .  well . . .  I was just curious is all.
I'm no weirdo if that's what you're thinking."

	"Well, I couldn't help noticing that it has had a certain effect on
a particular part of you, if you know what I mean," Jonathan said, glancing
at Taran's crotch.

	"I don't know why that is.  It . . . well . . . it just happened."

	"The mind will do that to you.  My mind does it to me, a lot."

	"I noticed," Taran replied, feeling a bit better being able to get
back at Jonathan about something.

	"Yeah, well you better believe it.  One thought about sex and
boing, up it pops."

	"Heck, for me just thinking about thinking about sex does it."

	The two boys laughed.

	"So we gonna talk about your audition or what?"

	"Yeah, sure, let me get out of this stuff."

	Taran removed the sweater, but try as he could he could not remove
the bra.  Jonathan stepped up and after some struggling, got the snaps
undone.  Turning his back to Jonathan, Taran pushed down the skirt and
stepped out of it.  Jonathan turned his back out of courtesy as Taran
pushed down the pantyhose and panties and put on his boxers and pants.

	"You know," Jonathan said, "now that my noodle's boned up I'm going
to have a hard time concentrating."

	"I think you already have a hard time," Taran giggled as he turned
around.

	"Look who's talking."

	"You got that right," Taran said as he put on his shirt.

	"Too bad some of our fans weren't here.  If the things some of them
have written to us were really true, they'd take care of this problem for
us."

	"It's really weird some of the things they've written.  I'm
starting to get mail like that too, like you and Zach have been getting.
You know, from girls saying how hot I am and how hot they are for me."

	"So, have you ever done anything with a girl?"

	"Nothing, not even kiss.  How far have you gone?"

	"Well, I've kissed, and hugged and stuff, but that's all."

	"You kiss girls like we did?"

	"Like we did?"

	"Like when, you know, you put your tongue in my mouth."

	"Oh, French kiss.  No, you were the first.  I've thought about
doing it though."

	"It felt weird."

	"Weird bad, or weird good?"

	"Weird good, sortta."

	"So," said Jonathan, "we can try to ignore the fact we've boned up,
or . . . we can do something about it."

	"You masturbate?" Taran asked.  Normally he would never be so bold,
but they were friends, and it fit naturally into the present conversation.

	"Yeah, once in a while.  The way I figure it, if I don't my body's
going to shoot off in my sleep anyway, so I might as well do it while I'm
awake and get to enjoy it."

	"I never thought of it that way."

	"What about you?"

	"Once in a while.  Mostly when I get hard I go dirt biking or
concentrate on the lines I'm learning or stuff like that, but sometimes
it's just too hard to resist touching it."

	The two boys stood there awkwardly for a moment.

	"So, you wanna do it or something?" Taran ventured.  From the look
on Jonathan's face, he was immediately sorry he had.  "That was dumb," he
said quickly as he turned beet red again.  "Just forget I said that, okay?
You must think I'm a real dork."

	"No, that's all right."

	"You do.  You're not a good liar, and you know it."

	"Taran-"

	"It's okay.  I don't blame you.  You're right, that's not the sort
of thing guys should do together."

	"Actually, I got nothing against it.  It's just that I was thinking
of other things guys do together."

	"Huh?"

	"I was thinking I can always masturbate, but there's other things
that I can't do by myself."

	"Like what?"

	"Sixty-nine for one."

	"What's sixty-nine for one?"

	"No, it's just called sixty-nine.  Have you heard the expression
'to get a blow job' before?"

	"Yeah, to get sucked."

	"Well, sixty-nine is two people doing it at the same time, head to
toe.  Well, actually, head to noodle, 6 to 9, get it?"

	"You were thinking of us sucking each other's things?" Taran asked,
his eyes widening with surprise.

	"Well, of guys doing it. . . .  Yeah, all right, us doing it.  I
guess it's my turn to say forget it.  It was a dumb idea."

	"I'm just surprised is all."

	"Now don't get me wrong.  I'm not gay or nothing.  I just wondered
what it might be like, and I figured since we were both boned up, and since
we know each other pretty good, and well, we're mature and all.  I mean,
it's not like we're like most guys our age."

	"If we don't like it, we can stop."

	"Of course."

	"You think that guys actually do it?"

	"Wanna go to North Hollywood and ask someone?"

	"No thanks."

	Another awkward moment followed.

	"Course we could always try screwing each other, but I figured that
would be a pain in the ass," Jonathan wisecracked, hoping by making a joke
he'd be able to get out of what was becoming a very embarrassing situation.

	"Oh, I don't know, for you maybe.  For me, with a little guy like
you, I probably wouldn't even notice you were there."

	"Very funny."

	"So, you really want to try sixty-nine?"

	"If you do."

	"If we don't do something, like you say, it is going to be
impossible to concentrate, and I do need some help for my audition."

	"So actually we don't really have a choice here."

	"Right."

	"And like you said, we can stop if we want to."

	"We're only seeing what it is like."

	"Or if it can even be done."

	"Right."

	"So, where should we do it?"

	"We could use the bedroom set."

	"Sure."

	The two teenagers stepped into the master bedroom of the Taylor
house, which was actually two walls, a bed and a dresser adjacent to the
living room set.  They slowly unbuttoned their shirts and removed them.
Although he was sixteen, Jonathan still barely had any hair under his arms,
and his chest was as smooth and hairless as Taran's.  He was starting to
lose some of his chubbiness, but you could not see his ribs like you could
Taran's.  They slipped off their shoes and socks, and self-consciously
pushed down their pants and stepped out of them.  Taran wore boxers, and
Jonathan wore white jockey briefs.  Both pairs of underwear were bulging
out.  They glanced out of the corner of their eyes at each other, and then
nervously pushed down their underwear.  They had both stripped down before
other boys plenty of times for gym or swimming, but they had never done so
when erect, and never with the intention of having sex.  That made a big
difference.

	They hesitated for a moment, and then Jonathan crawled onto the bed
and lay down on his side.  Taran quickly lay down on his side in the
opposite direction.  At least this way neither had to look the other in the
eye.  Having made the suggestion, Jonathan felt obligated to go first.  He
took Taran's erect penis in his fingers.  It felt weird holding it.  It was
thinner than his, and just less than five inches long.  He was impressed.
At Taran's age, he had been nowhere near that size.  Taran had a few light
brown hairs, but they were sparse and just above his noodle.  His balls
were small, not much bigger than walnuts.

	Having delayed as long as he dared, Jonathan opened his mouth wide
and lowered his head.  If he waited any longer, he would chicken out.
Slipping his mouth over Taran's knob, he closed his lips.  He was
surprised, even a bit disappointed, that it didn't have much of a taste at
all.  He slowly slid his lips down the shaft, taking Taran's entire cock
into his mouth.  After months of wondering, he finally knew what it was
like.

	Taran could not believe that JT had actually done it.  Nor could he
believe the marvellous feeling of having a hot, moist mouth totally
surrounding his wiener.  It was fantastic.  Encouraged by the feeling and
the ease with which Jonathan had done it, he opened his mouth and bent his
head forward, placing his lips against the tip of JT's cock.  Jonathan was
shorter than most boys his age, but his small size did not apply to his
boyhood.  His wiener was six inches and thick, and his balls hung down in a
large sack.  His hairs were dense and curly, and more blond than brown.

	  Finding it not that distasteful, Taran eased his lips down over
Jonathan's knob.  He sucked on the erect flesh and ran his tongue over it.
He slowly eased his lips a bit farther down with a mixture of emotions.
What JT was doing to him felt great, and doing it to JT was exciting, but
Taran could not keep out of his mind the fact that what they were doing was
forbidden.  That was both exhilarating and worrisome.

	As the two boys began to work their lips up and down each other's
shafts and to suck gently on each other's wieners, Taran's worries faded.
It felt good getting sucked, and making one's partner feel good felt good
too.  Both teenagers agreed on that.  They swallowed their dick-flavoured
saliva and began to suck on each other more hungrily.  As their desires
grew, they began to bob their heads faster. Soon their balls were tight and
their organs numb.  Suddenly Jonathan felt the twinge deep inside and he
knew he was going to shoot.  Before he could tell Taran, it was too late.
His stuff was spurting out of his cock and into Taran's mouth with a force
far greater than any time he had masturbated.  Taran swallowed the tart
offering automatically and responded by releasing his own load.  The two
boys stopped bobbing their heads and lay there swallowing each other's
offerings.  Their heads were spinning with the pleasure of their orgasm,
and the orgasm of their partner.

	Finally slipping their lips off each other's dicks, they lay there
for a long time thinking about what had happened.  At last they sat up,
their lips glistening with spittle and cum.

	"Well," said Jonathan, "I've eaten plenty of different types of
noodles, but that had to be the best, and the sauce is to die for."

	"Yeah, well, I was thinking I'll never be able to eat a wiener
again without getting boned up."

	The two boys laughed.  They got dressed and Jonathan began to help
Taran go through his lines for his audition.  Before they knew it an hour
had passed by.  Taran had brought some pop and chips with him and they took
a break.

	"Your dad coming back at five?" asked Taran.

	"Yeah, that's what I told him.  We said we'd practice til then.
Why?"

	"Well," Taran began hesitantly.

	"This going to have anything to do with sex?" Jonathan asked with a
leer.

	"It's got everything to do with sex."

	"Funny, I was thinking of exactly the same topic."

	"We won't be alone again like this for a while."

	"Not for at least a month by my schedule."

	"Nor mine."

	"You think you're prepared well enough for the audition?"

	"I think I've got a good enough handle on it now."

	"We could always talk on the phone or e-mail each other."

	"Well, you've convinced me."

	"You're the one who suggested we stop."

	"Oh yeah."

	Jonathan looked at Taran as he considered how to say what he had on
his mind.  "We can sixty-nine again, or if you're game, we can try
something different."

	"Like?"

	"Screwing."

	"I dunno.  I know the size of your dick, and I don't think it's
going to fit."

	"All we gotta do is grease it up."

	"How you know all this stuff anyway?"

	"The net."

	"You been surfing where you aren't suppose to go?"

	"Hey, just because I'm a big successful star, it don't mean I'm not
as horny and as curious as the next guy."

	"You really been on adult sites?"

	"Yeah, a couple times.  That sort of stuff isn't my thing, and it
isn't like I got lots of spare time, but it is one way to find out stuff
when you got a question about it."

	"Like screwing butt."

	"Yeah."

	"You think it can really be done?"

	"Well, I don't know much about it, but I know if you grease your
noodle up with Vaseline or body oil it makes it easier."

	"There would be Vaseline at make-up."

	"It'll take time to go there and back, and it might be locked up."

	"Yeah."

	The boys thought.  "The garage," they both said at the same time.

	Of course the garage was not a real garage, just another mock up.
Most of the tools were props made of foam or cardboard.  Even the can of
grease on the shelf was really a can of greasepaint since real grease would
be too messy, and grease didn't show up properly on television anyway.  For
the purpose the boys had in mind, greasepaint would work just as well.

	"Who goes first?"

	"Rock, paper, scissors?"

	"On the count of three."

	On the count of three, Jonathan chose paper, Taran rock.

	"Paper covers rock," Jonathan grinned.

	The boys chucked their clothes once more, but this time more
eagerly.  JT took a gob of the greasepaint and smeared it around Taran's
anus and pushed some of it up his hole.  By the time he was done Jonathan
was stiff.  He generously smeared his cock with the black grease paint.
Taran turned and spreading his legs, he squatted a bit and braced himself
against the workbench.  JT stepped up behind him.  Placing the tip of his
organ against Taran's hole, he eased his hips forward.  The grease worked
slick and he penetrated Taran with the first try.  Taran grunted.

	"How does it feel?"

	"Weird."

	"Weird bad or-"

	"Weird good."

	Jonathan slowly sunk his rigid cock up Taran's rectum and Taran
inhaled deeply with the strange pleasure.  As Jonathan's hairs tickled his
tail bone, he knew Jonathan's wiener was stuffed up his asshole as far as
it could go.  He could feel it in him, and yet not really.  It was a
strange sensation.  As Jonathan began to withdraw, Taran squirmed with the
tingling sensation rippling out from his anus.

	"Oh yeah," he groaned, "that's even better than taking a shit.
How's it feel for you?"

	"Great.  Having your hot, tight ass gripping onto my noodle is
indescribable."

	Jonathan slowly pumped his hips to and fro, driving his six-inch
shaft in and out of Taran's young virgin hole.  Actually, they were both
virgins, but after this neither would be able to claim that again.  JT
grabbed Taran's narrow hips and closed his eyes with pleasure.  His
breathing slowly became more laboured as he continued fucking and the
pleasure gradually increased.  Taran was breathing just as hard.  Once
again JT felt the twitch inside him and he plunged his cock up Taran's
asshole as far as he could as he pumped his boy juice into Taran's body.
Knowing what his best buddy had just done made Taran's loins ache with an
equal pleasure.

	It did not take Taran long to grease up his wiener and JT's hole.
He was eager to shoot off a load, and he slid his thin cock into his
buddy's slicked ass excitedly.  He could not believe how great it felt.  He
started by drawing his cock in and out slowly, but the desire was too
great.  The thirteen-year-old was soon humping his sixteen-year-old buddy
furiously.  The two boys were panting heavily and unashamedly with the
pleasure.  When he came, Taran grunted loudly.  It felt like he was
blasting with enough force to send his stuff right through JT and out his
mouth.

	The boys wiped themselves up with the rags in the garage, dressed,
and headed for the parking lot.  Their dads were waiting.

	"Hi, Mr. Weiss."

	"Hi, Taran.  So, did Jonathan teach you anything?"

	The two boys looked at each other knowingly.  "Oh yeah, he's a
fantastic teacher," Taran replied.

	"It was hard," Jonathan said wickedly, "but I think we've cum a
long way."

	"Definitely that," Taran said, having difficulty keeping a straight
face.

	"Taran and I were going to grab a bite to eat before heading home.
You want to join us?"  Mister Smith offered.

	"I know a great Italian place not too far from here that has
fantastic pasta," said Jonathan.

	"I thought you might have had enough noodle for a while," Taran
grinned.

	"Hey, some types of noodle you can never get too much of."

	As the two adults turned and headed for their cars, they didn't see
the winks exchanged between the two boys, nor the growing bulges in their
jeans.  They might be famous stars, and be more mature and responsible than
most teenagers, but they were still boys.


Taran and JT fans can send their raves to the author, J.O. Dickingson, at
authorsix@hotmail.com

The phrases Home Improvement, Tooltime & Binford, and all characters are
trademarks of and copyright The Walt Disney Company, Touchstone Television
and Wind Dancer Production Group.