Date: Wed, 4 May 2016 20:47:34 -0600
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter 19

This story contains sexual content, involving high school age males. If
this offends you, please leave this page immediately. This story is a work
of fiction, and any similarities to real life people, places, and
situations is purely a coincidence.

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Enjoy.

-------       -------       -------       -------


Don't worry.  The story's not over.


I mean, if you want to freeze frame on this moment, stop reading right now,
and close your browser tab, that's ok.  It's a happy ending if there ever
was one, and I won't blame you in the least.


But it's not the end of the story.  And it's not even some epic moment
that's burned into my brain forever.  Honestly, it happened so fast I
almost missed it.  It's almost like I didn't know what Carter did until it
was already over, like it never occurred in the present moment.  He pulled
away, took a step back, and then I understood that he had just kissed me.


I mean, don't get me wrong, holy shit.  Carter Mulkins just kissed me, but
it doesn't sink in until a few minutes later.


I follow up Carter's kiss with my usual series of awkward noises and a
complete inability to form coherent thoughts or words.  I'm still in shock,
and still processing.  Carter has to take the reins after laying one on me
like that.


"Do you want to hang out this weekend?" he asks.


It's the continuation of his apology from before.  He's making the offer,
and it's my prerogative fo once.  When I look at it that way it brings up a
good point.  After what he did to me, should I just let him back in to do
it all over again?  For once I have the power, even if I'm too shell
shocked and surprised by what's happening to effectively wield it.


"Sure," I say, caving in immediately.  What did you expect?  I'm not going
to turn him down!  "What are you doing tomorrow?"


Carter laughs at me, but in that nice, genuine way that he embodies.


"You have the play tomorrow," he says, "and I have football in Avon."


Shit.  Why am I always so dumb around him?  Oh course I have the play
tomorrow.  And Carter won't even be at school for most of the day.  The
team has an away game that's on the other side of the city, so they'll
leave after sixth period.


"How about Saturday before your show?" he suggests.


"That sounds better," I say, like I never suggested Friday night to begin
with.


"The weather's supposed to nice, you want to go for a run?" he asks.


"Uhhhh..."


I falter again.  Running with Carter?  We've never done anything like that
together.  I play soccer, but I wouldn't consider myself a serious runner.
The football team always seems like they're doing more running drills than
we are, and...


"Don't do that."


I look up at Carter and he's grinning at me.


"Don't do what?" I ask.  His smile is so pure, I can't help but share it.


"Don't think so hard," he says.  "I can always tell when you're thinking
too hard."


Of course he can.  It's probably all the time.


"Ok," I say.  "Let's go running."  No need to complicate things.  Not right
now.


His smile broadens.  "Cool!  I'll text you tomorrow after the game."


"Ok," I say. Half way through the word I start to have second thoughts.
Sure, Carter just kissed me, but what is he really trying to do?  He wants
to hang out again, just like we were doing before everything happened.  I
haven't talked to him in weeks, and now he wants to pick up like we never
left off.  Should I let myself jump back down this rabbit hole?


"Jackson," Carter interrupts, "you're doing it again."


He's right.  I'm totally doing it again.


"Just relax," he says, grabbing my shoulders and smoothing down the edges
of my shirt.  It's strangely comforting, like something my mom might do.
"We can just take it a day at a time."


Yes.  One day at a time.  I don't need to worry about why I'm backstage
with Carter right now and why he decided to come back to me.  It's ok.  We
can talk about it later.  I can dwell on it some other time.  Right now
it's just me and Carter.  He gave me flowers and told me I was amazing.  He
said he was sorry, and he wants to spend time with me again.  I need that
to be good enough for now, because it is.


This time when he leans in for a kiss, I'm ready.  Our lips touch, and I
let myself ride a wave of happy, nervous energy.  It's quick and clean, but
I feel it and taste it, and that's the one I'll remember.  It's real, I
tell myself.  Carter and I have had our first kiss - no booze, no games,
and no problems.


I wander out of the backstage area in a daze and find my family.  I can
tell that Ko and Katy know something's up, but they do me a solid and leave
me alone about it in front of my Mom.  I get compliments from everyone, how
good I was and how great the show was that night.  Opening night was a
smash hit, just like I thought it would be.


But only one thing is on my mind: Carter came back to me.  There are a
million questions that I need answered, and there are a million things I'm
not sure about.  But Carter's right.  I can't think so hard.  I just need
to take it one day at a time.


------- ------- ------- -------


"Ready to go?"


It takes me a second to collect myself.  It's one thing to expect Carter to
be standing there when I open the door.  It's quite another to see him.


He's wearing a bright teal tank top that only serves to accentuate the
muscles in his arms and hint at the body that's hiding underneath the parts
that are covered.  His shorts stop above his knee and hang loosely, just
barely giving the impression of a nice bulge inside.  It's like a wet dream
at the gym.


"Just a second," I say.  I was in the middle of tying my shoes when the
doorbell rang, and I squat down in the entryway to finish up.


"Is your mom here?" Carter asks, poking his head inside.


"Nah," I reply, "she's with the twins for some recital at school.  I'm glad
you're here, `cause otherwise I'd have to go."  I stand up and step out the
door, closing it behind me.


"Ouch," says Carter.  "That's why I'm here, huh?  To keep you from having
to go to a recital."


"No, I..."  I catch the smirk on Carter's face and stop fighting back.  As
usual, he's just messing with me.


Instead of parrying, I take off running and leave him standing in the
doorway.  If he wants to play games, then he can play catch up.  I look
behind me to see how far back he is and almost bump into him.  Damn it.  I
should have known better.  He's so athletic, there's no way I could leave
him in the dust.


We settle into an easy pace and I start us out on one of my go to routes.
I don't run a ton, but I try to get out a few times a week when we're
getting ready for soccer season.  This route is nice because about halfway
through you can pick the long way or the short way home depending on how
you're feeling.  That makes it either about three miles or five.  Honestly,
I usually pick the short way.


The best part about today's run, however, has to be the weather.  For
mid-November, this is insane.  It's in the mid 70s and the sun is shining
so it feels even better than that.  A few weeks ago I thought winter was in
full swing, but as of this morning you would think it was barely even fall.
Heck, Carter is wearing a tank top, and last week we were all decked out in
our puffies.


The pace seems to be good for both of us, but I hope I'm not slowing Carter
down too much.  I want to keep my breath so we can talk.  From the looks of
it we're both starting to work up a bit of a sweat, but more from the heat
than our actual effort.  We swivel through a roundabout and I turn over to
Carter.


"How was the game yesterday?" I ask.


Carter doesn't respond but he shrugs.


"You guys won," I say.  I get the feeling there's more to it than that for
Carter.


He shakes his head.  "It wasn't a good game.  We won, but if that's how we
play I don't see us getting very far in the playoffs."


Last night's game was a non-conference team.  They were supposed to be
pretty good, so I'm surprised that Carter doesn't think a win was good
enough.  He's such a perfectionist, it kills me.


"I'm sure you were just working out some of the kinks," I say.  "You have
two more games to make sure you're ready."


"Yeah," he admits, "maybe you're right.  What about you?"


"I don't think we're going to make the playoffs," I say.  Our season
started well enough, but we dropped a few big games and our postseason
prospects aren't looking especially good.  I figure I won't bore Carter
with the details unless he asks.


"Not soccer," Carter says laughing.  "The play last night.  How did it go?"


Oh yeah, the play.  I think for a second.  "It was good.  Not like opening
night, but it was good."


"You guys were incredible on Thursday," he says.  "It'd be hard to top
that."


"Thanks."  Even mid run I can feel my cheeks getting hot in response to the
praise.


"No, seriously, like I said.  You were amazing.  It was like you were a
totally different person up there."


That was what he said backstage.  That I was amazing.  And now he's saying
it again.  Why would he say that?


"Come on, dude, just admit it," he says.  "You were really good on
Thursday."  He knows I can't take a compliment, especially from him.


"Yeah, ok, we were good."  Carter's grinning at me and I can't help but do
it too.  He always gets to me.  "I'm glad you came.  I don't know if we'll
have a better night than that."


I hope it doesn't sound like it was just because of what happened after
that.  I don't think I'm supposed to bring that up.  We're just taking it
day by day, right?  I figure that means we're not going to sit down and
analyze every little thing that happens along the way.


"Yeah, me too."


I try to read Carter's expression, but I'm not sure what to think.  He's
such an enigma.  Here's this beautiful boy jogging along beside me, telling
me I'm `amazing' and kissing me after the show the other night.  Is this
real life, or am I just imagining it?


I smile a little and let myself get into the zone.  We cover the next few
miles without talking and I'm surprised how natural it feels to be with
Carter again.  I feel flustered and nervous when we're talking, but
actually doing stuff together feels easy.  It's just like it used to be
with him.  Here I was all geared up to have a serious talk during our run,
when all we had to do was hang out with each other.


I'm surprised to see that we're already coming around the final corner and
back onto my street.  We'll be back home in just a few blocks.  I slow my
pace to a walk for a cooldown and Carter follows suit.


Maybe I'm complicating things.  We're just going to see what happens.
Carter as much as admitted he likes me, and that was a huge step.  I can't
expect him to know exactly what he wants and needs right off the bat,
anymore than I could expect to know that about myself.  And that's a whole
different can of worms: What do I want?  What do I...


"Don't do that," Carter says, giving me a little push in the back to break
my train of thought.


"Do what?" I ask.


He laughs.  "Don't think so hard.  You'll give yourself a headache."


I don't even bother trying to deny it.  Am I that easy to read?


We step into the house and I start to unlace my shoes and take them off.
It almost feels colder inside than it was outside.  This weather is crazy.
The whole front of my shirt is about soaked with sweat, not something I
would usually expect in the middle of November.


I look at Carter and he's in the same boat.  His tank top is wet and there
are beads of perspiration running down his arms and the top part of his
chest, visible in the V of his tank top.  He looks sexy as hell covered in
sweat.  I'm sure it's the same way when he comes in from football practice,
but I don't get to see nearly as much of him when he's all bundled up in
pads and a jersey.


"You like what you see?" Carter asks, totally catching me staring.


I look up from his body to meet his eyes.  He doesn't seem bothered by it.


"Yeah?"  I suggest weakly.


He must not mind, because in response, he pulls his tank top over his head
and tosses it down with his shoes.


"I'm sweatier than I thought," he says.  He flexes his arms back and forth
and twists his torso, checking himself out, presumably for sweat.
Something tells me he's just trying to put on a show.  He looks down at me
and smiles devilishly.


If he looks hot with a shirt on, he's twice as hot without it.  I usually
see the summer build of Carter.  He gets a little leaner and longer during
swim season, and tan since he spends more time outside running around,
playing basketball, and all that stuff.  It's a damn good look.


Mid-season football Carter, however, is a little bulkier, with maybe ten
extra pounds of muscle packed on.  He isn't chunky by any means, but the
extra weight makes him look so much more filled out, stronger, and manlier.
It's like having two different Carters, and there's no way I could decide
which one I like better.


"We can go use my shower if you want."


It takes me a second to realize what I just said.  I don't mean that we are
going to use it at the same time or anything.  Just that Carter can use it
if he wants, and I'll go hang out until he's done.  Honestly, can I go five
minutes without saying something weird?


"Sounds good, dude."


Again, if Carter noticed it he isn't fazed at all.  Instead he leads the
way up to my room.  I can't help but notice his perfect ass in his running
shorts as we go up the stairs, like two giant tennis balls trapped under
the fabric, so firm.  It's all I can do not to just reach out and grab the
thing.


The instant we get into my bedroom Carter leans down and shucks off his
shorts, leaving only a pair of tight, gray compression shorts with yellow
trim.  They're a little bit damp from our run, and it makes them a slightly
more transparent than normal.  Even after exercising, there's a sizable
bulge inside, and not a whole lot left to the imagination.


"Well?" Carter asks, putting his hands on his hips.  It juts his hips
forward ever so slightly and I have to fight the urge to lick my lips.  He
definitely did it on purpose.


"Well, what?" I ask back, somehow pulling my gaze up and away from the
glory inside Carter's underwear.


He smirks and takes a step toward me.


"Are you coming, or not?" he asks.  I can't help but look back down as he
closes the distance between us.  Those shorts give him the perfect amount
of support.  They make his bulge look so firm and solid.  I just want to
reach my hand out and grab it.


"Where are we going?" I ask.


For the record, I'm not that thick.  At this point, I can see exactly what
Carter's getting at, and I absolutely want to go where he's headed.  But
he's taking the lead for once, and it's turning me on like crazy.  I don't
want to give him what he wants, I want him to take it if that's what he's
in the mood for.


And apparently he is.  He stops so his face is only about an inch away from
mine, then he reaches down grabs the bottom of my shirt.  I hardly have
time to lift up my arms before he pulls it up over my head and throws it
halfway across the room.  A second later he pulls my shorts down to my
ankles.


"Go get in the shower," he says.


I instantly chub up at his command.  I can feel my cock straining against
the tight fabric of my underwear.  He's never been like this before, so
forceful and in control.  I like it.


I walk into the bathroom and I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.
What's gotten into him?


Leaning into the shower, I flip the taps on to about where they need to be.
We'll have ten or fifteen seconds before the water gets...


I stop moving and feel Carter push into me from behind.  I'm still leaning
slightly forward, so the only contact between us is what I assume is his
semi pushing lightly into my backside.  An erotic surge shoots through my
body, and I push harder back into him.  He reaches down and pulls me up to
a standing position.  He grinds his hips lightly into mine and runs his
hands across my stomach and up to my chest.


I go limp in his arms as he continues to explore my body.  His right hand
brushes over my nipple and I feel it stiffen.  I can't see him, but I know
he has that same smirk on his face that he was using on me when we were in
the bedroom.  His hands slide up my ribcage then up to my back and...


He pushes me into the shower.


I stumble over the edge of the tub and flop down ass first into the shower.
I'm soaking wet, and I didn't even have a chance to take my compression
shorts off.  I look up at Carter, and he takes a second to laugh at me
before glancing down at my crotch and raising his eyebrows suggestively.
It's probably quite visible at this point, wet and mostly hard inside my
shorts.


Rather than strip off his own underwear, Carter just steps into the shower
to join me, helping me to my feet before pushing me back against the wall
and pressing his lips against mine.  Idon't even have time to react.  For a
second I just stand there numbly, feeling his soft, wet lips pressed
against my own, but then I grab the back of his head and return the kiss
with everything I've got.


I should have known that Carter would be a fantastic kisser.  He's good at
everything he does, and there's no reason kissing would have been any
different.  We shared a sloppy, drunken kiss a few months ago, but this is
totally different.  That was a tongue haphazardly getting rammed into my
mouth.  This is energetic, complex, and delicious.


The whole experience is overwhelming, and I'm about to pull away to catch
my breath when I think better of it and force myself to keep going.  I'm
afraid if I pause this, Carter might realize how crazy it is.  We're making
out in the shower.  I'm making out with Carter Mulkins, a straight boy who
just a few days ago decided that he might like me and wants to see where it
takes him.  I can't let this slow down or lose momentum for even a second.


Instead of stopping, I slide my hands down Carter's hairless back and pull
his hips into me.  He responds with a slight gasp as our cocks make contact
through our tight, wet compression shorts.  Mine is stretched tight against
the fabric, and it feels like his is too.  I grind forward and backward and
side to side and a jolt of pleasure runs through my whole body.  At first I
thought it was weird that we were both still wearing underwear, but rubbing
against Carter like this is even hotter with the little bit of clothing we
have.


As the erotic sensations grow, one of Carter's hands starts to trace a line
lightly down my spine.  When he reaches my waistband, he slides his fingers
under it and reaches down to gently cup my left asscheek.  Given the tacit
approval, I move both of my hands from his hips back onto the two perfect
mounds of flesh on Carter's backside.  Even through his underwear, they
feel amazing - firm yet supple.


We pull each other in tighter and I relish the contact between our
slippery, smooth stomachs when they come together.  I slide myself up and
down against Carter, causing wonderful, erotic sensations from our chests
all the way down through our cocks.  We've never had this much body contact
before, and Carter responds by pushing his tongue into my mouth.  This is
my first real french kiss, and if things were hot before, they're on fire
now.


I finally break the kiss to catch my breath, but I still don't give Carter
a chance to think about stopping.  Instead, I drop to my knees in front of
him and run my hands up his wet thighs.  During our grinding, Carter's now
fully hard package shifted over to lie across his right hip, and as my left
hand reaches the area, I roll my fingers across the highly visible ridge of
his cockhead.


The instant I make contact, Carter's cock jumps in his shorts and a light
moan escapes his lips.  I wrap my hand fully around his rigid shaft and
trace the outline of it down from the head to the base.  It might be my
imagination or just my raging libido, but he looks even longer and thicker
than last time I saw him.


I look up at Carter and he makes eye contact with me.  His cheeks are
flushed and the desire is written clearly across his face.  Still looking
up at him, I lean forward and wrap my mouth around the outline of his head.
I follow the path of my hands and slide my lips all the way down to the
base, never breaking our gaze.


"Oh, fuck, Jackson."  Carter throws his head back and pushes his hips
forward, trying to get more of himself into my mouth.  I take a few more
seconds to explore the shape of his manhood through his shorts before
hooking my fingers up into the waistband and releasing him.


His perfect cut cock flips out and sticks straight at me.  I really missed
this.  While getting jacked off or getting blown feels amazing, I never
enjoy it quite as much as I like getting to put my mouth all over him.  The
taste, the feel, the smell - I love every second of it.  Warmed up from our
run and then the hot water in the shower, Carter looks bigger and juicier
than ever, like his cock is just begging me to put it in my mouth.


I do.


I take the head into my mouth, tasting it and loving how full it makes my
mouth feel.  I swirl my tongue around the end, savoring the contours and
ridges of his big, flared head.  I run the tip of my tongue up and down his
exposed frenulum, feeling him twitch again under my administrations.


"Oh my god," Carter moans, reaching a hand down to cradle the back of my
head.  He pushes forward gently, and I don't fight him, instead driving my
head forward onto his shaft.


I bob my head up and down while Carter lightly rocks his hips in time with
the motion, our smooth, toned bodies under the spray of the showerhead.
This is heaven.


Once we have a good rhythm going, I raise up my hands to explore Carter's
hips, stomach, thighs, and ass.  He's like an adonis, with all the right
edges, ridges, and curves.  I love the way his hip bones jut out ever so
slightly.  His rippled stomach is superb.  His ass is taut with muscle but
layered with the perfect amount of soft padding over the top of it.  And
then there's the masculinity of the band of neatly trimmed pubic hair above
his cock.


"I'm so close..."


Carter's voice shakes me out of my reverie of body worship, and I look up
to see what he wants, sliding back until just the head of his dick is
resting on my tongue.  He's close, but does he want me to stop, or does he
want me to finish him off?


Carter looks down at me and implores me.


"Oh God, dude, make me cum."


I don't need to be told twice.  I take him back into my mouth and take a
few slow strokes over the first inch or two of his member.  Then I extend
to the first three inches.  I know where I want to go with this, but I want
it to build up a little bit.


I keep up my rhythm, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth.  I
can hear his breathing getting louder, and I know I have him right on the
edge.  It's time to finish him off.


I grab handfuls of both his asscheeks and pull him as far into my mouth as
I can, burying him to the hilt.  I hold him there in my throat, and I can
feel his rod stiffening and swelling with the start of his orgasm.  Here it
comes!


Finally I pull off just in time to take the first shot of his cum directly
in my mouth.  It's warm and salty, just like I remember it.  I swallow
every drop, then hold him there for a few more seconds, gently cleaning off
the last few drop of cum with my tongue as they leak out.


Carter pulls out, probably overwhelmed by the sensation.


"Holy shit," he says breathlessly, "that was amazing."  He takes a few
gulps of air and then pulls me up to my feet.


I partly expect him to drop down and return the favor, but instead he turns
me around so my back is facing him.  He slides up behind me and reaches
around to put his hands on my chest and stomach.  I close my eyes as his
fingers explore my body and bask in the sensations.


He pulls away and I pop my eyes open, wondering what he's up to.  Then he's
back pressed against me, but now I feel a bar of soap in his hand as he
moves across my torso.  He sets the soap back down and resumes his
explorations.  The soap adds a new sensation to it, making everything
slippery and erotic in a new way.


Finally, his hands drop below my stomach and slip under my waistband.  I
relax back into Carter's body and enjoy more of the flesh on flesh
sensations that we were feeling before.  He wraps his hand around my rock
hard tool and starts gently stroking it, the soap acting as a lubricant.
Needless to say, it feels amazing.


As Carter continues jacking me off, I start to feel his own dick perking
back up, pressing lightly into my backside.  It's pushing directly into my
crack, and I push back into him.  The contact down there feels... weird,
but good.


To be honest, I haven't done a ton in the way of self exploration down on
that side of things.  I've jacked off about a million times, just like any
healthy teenage boy.  But besides a handful of quick feels, I haven't done
much with my butt.  I make a mental note to look into that though, because
Carter's semi pressing into the space around my ass is sending erotic
sensations all through my body.


I reach down and push my compression shorts down my legs to allow Carter
free access.  Now when I push back into him, I can feel his semi nestle
directly between my cheeks.  Feeling his fat, hot meat squeezed into my
crack is all it takes to get me right to the brink.


I twist my head around and let my mouth find Carter's.  He locks his lips
over mine and I feel my cock start to swell in his hand.  He stops jacking
me, but holds his hand there as I blow my load, a huge explosion of cum
blasting out across the bottom of my shower.  I groan and almost lose my
footing as I'm swept up in my orgasm, but Carter holds me in place, one
hand around my waist and the other wrapped tightly around my spitting dick.


My mind soars above the clouds through the height of my climax and comes to
rest at a spot not too much lower than that.  I start to catch my breath,
wrapped in Carter's embrace, with the hot water of the shower raining down
on both of us.


To be continued...