Date: Tue, 18 Jul 2006 14:14:54 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Blowing Bobby's Brother (1)

   I was sixteen, a junior in high school, and totally heartbroken. My
sadness stemmed from the recent loss of my best bud in the world, Bobby,
who had succumbed to serious asthma, and assorted other allergies, that a
barrage of medical tests had attributed to various pollens that were
native, and abundant, in our local area. His doctors had determined that
the only possibility for Bobby to find relief from his breathing
difficulties was to relocate to a much damper climate, and so it was that
Bobby had been quickly shuffled off to live with an aunt and uncle at the
coast.

   While I was eager for Bobby to recover his health, his sudden departure
had left a gaping hole in my previously stable and contented life. Bobby,
you see, was not only my very best friend, and confidant, but, he was also
my very own suck buddy, and having that essential facet of my life suddenly
carved out was, to say the least, devastating to my raging teen libido. It
had been about a year before his health problems began that Bobby had, at
long last, acquiesced to my persistent efforts to suck his pretty cock,
and, once that initial event had been successfully accomplished, neither of
us had ever looked back. I had been hopelessly intrigued with the desire to
suck dick ever since I had discovered the art while surfing porn on the
internet at around age fourteen, and it had taken me a full year to
convince Bobby that he would seriously enjoy letting me take his very nice
penis into my mouth, and bring him to a crashing orgasm, thereby filling my
own compulsion to experience a spurting cock inside my hungry mouth. Once
he had experienced the ecstasy of depositing his rather copious load into
my sucking mouth, he was pretty much hooked, and, in spite of his abject
straight sexual orientation, he never hesitated to allow me access to his
turgid meat, whenever the mood struck me.

   The really good part of our little arrangement from my point of view was
not only the enormous pleasure the act provided me, but the absolute sworn
secrecy of our little guilty pleasure, given that Bobby had pretty much
zero desire for it to become public knowledge, any more than I did. In our
little town of a heavily redneck population, being labeled as "gay" was
tantamount to the kiss of death, and definitely something to be avoided,
not to mention that my poster-boy, macho stud, father would quite likely
have cut off my own penis, and fed it to me, had he even a hint of his only
son's predilection for cock sucking. All in all, the arrangement was near
perfect, until, that is, Bobby had fallen victim to the elements. Sigh,
life sometimes sucks.

   And so it was that I had moped about over the three weeks since Bobby's
rapid departure, chaste, and cock-starved, horny, and just plain down, way
down. In an effort to fill this sudden void in my world, I had carefully
scrutinized several of my other friends, and classmates, hoping against
hope for some small sign, or the vague possibility of even slight interest,
and had come away empty. It seemed that among this group of jocks, and
beaver hunters, that if any one of them so much as occasionally harbored
secret thoughts of getting intimate with another penis, it was every bit as
well hidden as was my own rampant desire. Indeed, I decided once more, life
really can suck, at times.

   I had just about regaled myself to celibacy, at least for the short
term, until I could off this pop stand for college, which I was certain
would afford an abundance of fresh, rigid man-meat to feed my burning
desires, albeit it over a year and a half away. I let out a very
discouraged sigh, and steered my car onto Bobby's street, hopping to
somewhat mollify my smoldering gloominess with a look at his former
house. As I eased down the block, and Bobby's house came into view, I noted
his brother Scott shooting hoops in the driveway. A sudden flash went off
in my brain, as I briefly considered the idea that perhaps whatever gene
that resided in Bobby that allowed him to succumb to my none-to-subtle
seduction might also course through the veins of his younger brother. I
slowed, watching closely, as Scott deftly worked the basketball, dribbling,
and making shots without effort, then, pulled to the curb, and stopped,
just short of reaching the house, so that I could watch Scott closer, and
give this ragged, and highly unlikely, idea a moment to percolate.

   Scott was a freshman this school term, so I guessed that would make him
fourteen, or maybe fifteen, depending on where his birthday fell. A tad
young, I thought, but then recalled my own libido as a freshman, and
decided that, if anything, I had been even more horny at that juncture than
now, and, pretty much totally without outlet for the pent up little semen
factory that resided in the snug little pouch between my thighs. Yes, I
thought, fourteen, fifteen, definitely a time of major horns, and the sole
relief mechanism available was pretty exclusive to which ever hand one
preferred to use to stroke that near constant erection. I smiled, thinking
that if I could somehow work the same persuasion on Scott that I had
finally gotten over on Bobby, he would probably happily forsake
masturbation forever. Well, mostly, anyway. A well administered blow job
would, definitely, make even the best jerk-off pale by comparison.

   Deciding that the idea was, at the very least, deserving of a shot, I
eased the car back onto the street, and rolled up in front of Bobby's, and
Scott's, house, and stopped. Scott paused his b-ball workout, and turned
toward me, a quizzical look on his very cute face, and I slid out of the
car, waving, as I called,

   "Hey Scottie-boy....I saw that....nice shooting, dude!"

   Recognition crossed his face then, and he broke into a wide smile, his
perfect white teeth flashing brightly, as he replied,

   "Hey, Josh....what's up....haven't seen you around, dude....not since Bobby
split, anyhow!"

   I approached him, and we did the required fist-bump thing that qualifies
you as uber cool, and then reached out to ruffle his soft hair, as I
replied,

   "For sure, huh....been nowhere, actually....sucks hanging out alone,
too....and I miss him, big time....hear anything from him?"

   Scott nodded, streaks of his sandy colored hair trailing over his
slightly sweating brow, and made a cute little giggling sound, as he said,

   I know, huh....weird as it sounds, I sorta miss him being around,
too....go figure, huh...?"

   I chuckled, nodding my understanding of the absent brother thing, then
asked,

   "So, little dude, you feeling up for a little one-on-one, or can't you
stand having your little ass kicked...?"

   Scott laughed, a melodic little sound that somehow affected my balls,
and replied,

   "Bring it, hot stuff....you're looking at the only freshman to make the
JV team, so just bring it.....and....after I have kicked your ass....you can
buy me the biggest milk shake they make at Fridays."

   I reached out quickly, and slapped the ball from where he rested in on
his small hip, and quickly dribbled under the hoop, executing a
near-flawless layup. Landing, I turned to Scott, and exclaimed,

   "Dude....too easy....that's two points, already on you!"

   He yelped, declaring my premature shot as null, and void, then moved to
the edge of the driveway, simulating a proper method of bringing the ball
into play, and as an intense session of one-on-one as you can imagine, was
under way. We went at it hard and heavy for a good forty minutes, or so,
and when we called it good, Scott, the frosh JV stud, was no less than
eight hoops ahead of me. We dropped onto the grass that bordered the
driveway, huffing and sweating, and I held up both hands in mock surrender,
and smiled at the cute boy, and asked,

   "Will that be chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry...?"

   He giggled for me again, and lifted the hem of his tee shirt, using it
to swipe at his sweating face, and I felt a definite stirring in my crotch,
as I let my eyes drink in the smooth, tanned skin of his tummy, and
chest. Not a single hair was in evidence, and my eyes rested briefly on his
nickel-sized little nipples, then, his small cave of a navel, and I noted
the very thin ring of baby fat that wrinkled at his waist. I dropped my
eyes lower, and was rewarded with a very interesting bulge at the crotch of
his loose fitting shorts, and smiled, as I thought that an ample endowment
of boy parts must be another family trait. Now that I had made that brief
determination, I silently prayed that the other gene I had referenced was,
in fact, a part of the family genealogy, as well.

   Scott lowered the shirt tail, instantly eradicating my drooling view of
his sleek, tanned tummy and chest, and looked straight into my eyes, as he
answered my question, saying firmly,

   "Strawberry.....I am definitely thinking....strawberry...!"

   Scott went inside briefly to check out with his mother, then, jogged
back outside, and slid into the passenger seat of my Mustang, and I pulled
away from the curb, heading toward Friday's, the local hangout for the high
school crowd. Scott jabbered happily, lording his basketball prowess over
me, and I seized on the opportunity to perv his smooth, coltish legs where
they protruded from the legs of his shorts. The shorts had ridden up some
on his thighs, and gathered in his lap, and I felt that pleasant sensation
in my balls once more, as I observed the creamy smooth skin of his hairless
legs, and that very intriguing lump in his lap. I had a sudden mental image
of Bobby's rigid penis, and plump balls, and decided that the odds were
strongly in favor of Scott's equipment being much the same, if a tad
smaller, given his youth, and probably incomplete sojourn through puberty.
The fact was, I could hardly wait to have the opportunity to validate my
suspicion, hopefully sooner, rather than later. Scotty-boy, I decided on
the spot, was definitely a keeper, and, a more than adequate replacement
for his brother, and I longed to validate that thought, as well.

(To Be Continued)
Storyguy22@yahoo.com