Date: Thu, 1 Jun 2006 21:12:38 -0700
From: onetime <onetime (at) smokr (dot) info>
Subject: Ray's Circle - Prologue
First, a warning: If you find homosexual conduct between youths offensive
or do not wish to view or read such material, close this page or file and
discard it. This material is intended only for audiences who wish to view it.
Second, the legal stuff: I retain all rights and title to this work.
You may mirror it provided you provide it complete with these introductory
paragraphs, my email and a link to this page at the Nifty Archives and/or
my own url which will be provided in the future. I'm talking over a deal now,
but if you know a way I could put these stories online, let me know.
Third, content codes: BB con mast Young Teen Boys Consensual Masturbation
Fourth, description: The following story contains the consensual sexual
activities of teenaged and early teen boys. While some of the events may be
true, the names of all involved are altered, the locations are changed, and
circumstances and activities modified. No identifying information is provided.
This work is intended for entertainment only. Overall, this is a collection of
reminisces, fiction and collected fantasies. If you, however, find one or more
of these stories a little too close for coincidence, email me and we can see if
we can find out anything.
This story starts with a Prologue. This Prologue will introduce the main
character, his situation, and set up the current timeline.
Chapter 1 contains a sexual encounter from the character's history. I will
issue further installments using the format of each even numbered chapter
(2,4,6...) being a generally non-sexual themed exposition focused on the main
character in the present day and the events leading to the final chapter. Each
odd numbered chapters (1,3,5...) will be a memory or flashback of the main
character of a past sexual encounter. In this manner, I can make it easy for
those who want longer, detailed stories with character development and plot
lines as well as those looking for less windy material and more action instead
of story. By reading only the odd numbered chapters you will simply go from
one sexual encounter to another.
We shall return to the present timeline in each odd numbered chapter,
exposing more of the underlying connection between these characters before
the events hinted at in the Prologue finally play out.
So, if you wish to meet the boys first, and know them a bit, be able
to see them in your mind, understand the viewpoint of the main character, watch
things develop and understand the last chapter, perhaps even enjoy a good,
long, er, read, don't miss the Prologue below. If, instead, you are just
looking for a good, quick, exciting encounter story, just stick to the odd
numbered chapters.
Finally, some personal words: This is my first submission
of its kind to the Nifty Archives or any online story site.I hope you
enjoy it. I welcome tips, thoughts, ideas and critiques, or, just a 'hey'.
Flames get the usual treatment. Exceptional flames get archived for future
hilarity. As does the From: addy. Be warned.
onetime at smokr.info
***
For all the goodness than comes with closeness, between friends and more.
For all the beauty, obscured and obliterated, by the actions of idiots,
To all the ones who can tell the difference,
and especially to the ones who live the difference...
***
A Circle of Friends
~Prologue~
the present...
It was the last Wednesday in February. A cold winter day in Chicago's
near west side. It was also Ray's sixteenth birthday.
Biking home from school on the slick, snow-covered streets, his mind raced
with thoughts. Many boys just turning sixteen would be focused on getting that
ticket of freedom, a driver's license. But when you live in a city, like Ray
does, the likelihood of it leading to actually driving, especially ever having
your own car, was pretty low. His dad carpooled or took a taxi, his mom got
rides from friends or used a bus or train to get around. Ray's parents owned
a car, sure, a two year old Bonneville four-door sedan. Nice car, dark blue in
and out with a cloth interior, nice custom wheels and a German 3.8 liter v6.
It was used on weekends, sometimes, for family trips to relatives or cookouts,
but usually resided quietly in the garage. Ray had his bike. And he used it
every day. Even deep in the Chicago winters. Ray had really wanted it and was
glad to have it. Even some of the rich kids raised their brows at it from time
to time. A Huffy 26" chromed dirt track five-speed. A birthday present when he
turned twelve.
Ray's birthdays were special to begin with. He was born February 29th. But
this year it was a real year, his birthday actually existed for only the fifth
time, including the day he was born, in his entire life. Others call it
Leap Year, Ray called it a real year. Ray didn't know exactly what was in
store, but he knew it was going to be special.
His dad was taking him to the DMV next Saturday anyway so he could worry
about it then. Besides, the events planned for tonight were much more
imminent, and important. Today, Ray's mind was busy with thoughts of tonight.
After dinner, five friends were coming over for a small party. Since today was
a Wednesday, and a school night, it was agreed, well, his parents had told
him, no party tonight. On Friday night the party would start at 6 at his house
with his parents. Another party, the real party, with just his friends and,
most importantly, no adults, was set for 8pm. Elsewhere.
Ray had invited an even dozen friends from school for the first Friday
party, but only Tom, Jeff, Eric, Brent and Ryan would be coming over tonight.
Most of The Circle. There would be even more at the real party later Friday
night as the entire Circle would be there, and many more. The guys coming over
tonight said they were bringing small presents, stuff Ray's parents would not
be surprised about. His best friend, Tom had already told him what he was
bringing tonight, a new game for the PC. He wouldn't talk about the gift he
had for Friday night. Not a word, just a slick smile. Tonight would be cool,
but Ray was really looking forward to Friday.
Ray knew they would not be able to toke at his house, but they would when
they went off for the real partying later. Weeks ago Ray had informed his
parents of a group party over at Rob's house. Ray's parents were assured there
would be no trouble, but what they didn't know was that the party was
going to be a huge blowout! Ray had been hinted at by almost everyone that this
party was going to be a big one. Even Rob's parents had dropped a few
tantalizing hints over the last few weeks, saying like, "Don't forget a couple
changes of clothes", and "You don't get sick easy, do you?"
Despite Ray's best efforts, three girls got invited. Ray was certain
that he was being 'set up for some' by his buddies. He dreaded the thought,
but could do nothing to prevent it without demanding that no chicks be at the
party. Doing so, Ray was certain, would set off alarm bells with his parents
and his friends. Tom's girlfriend, Helen was one of the three girls invited.
So was Rob's girlfriend, Sally. The third girl coming was Marie. Marie and
Ray had some history. She had lived in the house next to Ray since they were
first built, years ago. She was tall, especially for 17, and pretty. Long,
curly, dark-honey hair, and always very tanned. Ray liked her breasts because
they were pretty big and she liked showing them off in tight tops and sweaters.
She was not very friendly with Ray, and she had been dating Berry from school
until very recently, so she was the one they were setting him up with.
They were probably bringing another girl over for the 'big surprise'.
Too bad it wouldn't be Berry, Ray thought.
Berry was a sexy guy, Ray often thought when he had came to pick up Marie.
He drove a five year old Mustang convertible in good shape, he was one of the
rich boys. Ray would watch Berry sitting in the driveway next door in his
convertible in those waning summer months, his blond hair shining against the
black of the car. Slightly tanned and a slim jock, he was almost a year older
than Ray and had matured much more. His features were taking on the sharper
and larger proportions of a man, and his body was hardened from years of
baseball and soccer. He was on both teams at school and one of the best players
on both. Yes, Ray found Berry more attractive than even Marie.
Oh, have I mentioned Ray is gay?
Funny how the girls can move into the rich circle but the boys get treated
like trash, Ray thought as he leaned back on the bike seat and steered by
balance on the cleared sidewalks around the school. Berry obviously had gotten
what he wanted from Marie and moved on a couple months ago. Ray felt really bad
for Marie, and felt even worse when the stories Berry started telling around
school made Marie out to be a complete whore. If Ray were the fighting type,
he would have taken Berry on. But since Berry was part of the football and
soccer cliques, and anyone who messed with a team mate messed with the whole
team, as both teams had demonstrated more than once, that would have been
near fatal. Especially since Ray was one of the 'lessers'.
Sighing and taking hold of the handlebars again, Ray reflected on how time
moved along, changing so many things. Ray's reddish-brown hair had grown
wilder and longer and his shoulders and hips had widened.
Just last month he had talked his parents into a new pair of
glasses, wire-frames, instead of the brown plastic framed kind he had worn for
as long as he could remember. Having pale skin, he was also cursed with a
fair amount of freckles, though most had faded recently and his complexion
remained clear with only a rare pimple. Unlike some kids his age, he had no
beard or mustache. So far only a downy fuzz had sprouted on his chest, arms and
legs; like most redheads he was decidedly lacking in body hair. He had always
expected more by sixteen, maybe some shadow on his lips at least. At nearly 5'
6 and 140 pounds, he was sturdy without being fat, muscle replacing
youthful softness. His clothes were always getting small on him. He didn't work
out, but by riding his bike all around the Chicago streets he had developed a
firm physique and nice, strong, firm legs. He was increasingly proud of his
round and pert butt, but his pride and joy was his growing dick and balls.
Framed with still-short reddish-brown hair, some growing on his ball sack,
it was a full six inches when hard in all its circumcised majesty. His balls
though, were big and always hung low and loose in his baggy sack. He would have
been even more proud of them, but they got in the way! Boxers were out of
the question as he was always getting them between the legs of the boxers and
his strong thighs, and that always hurt. Especially on the bike. More than once
he had thought he had crushed at least one! And it seemed to be worse when he
was out with his parents or hanging with his friends. The very worst were at
school, when even attempting to adjust your nuts out from between there would
have been humiliating. He wouldn't know just how large they were until his
freshman year in high school when he first started getting views of a range of
other boys. By comparison to the other boys, Ray had horse balls. Even after
two years in high school, he had yet to see a sack as generous as his own,
and he saw a lot of naked boys in his gym class. Almost sixty boys alone in his
gym period. And he had seen other boys naked too.
Ray attended a very large, old high school that was founded before the
1900s. It had two campuses, one for the 9th and 10th graders, another three
miles away across the suburban sprawl for the two higher year students.
The older campus now hosting the upper classes had been built well before the
20th century. It resembled the style of Yale so much it was nicknamed for the
college. It even turned out an impressive percentage of real Yalies and Harvard
grads, as well as many other ivy class college students and academic and sports
figures. The other campus was post WWII and seemed to avoid any right angles or
square rooms whenever possible. Around a thousand kids were enrolled in each
grade at any one time. With so many kids, cliques and groups were the norm.
Ray turned off the wide four-lane street onto a narrower two-lane one,
lined with tall, old trees and broken only by the few driveways spaced very
far apart. A few homes were visible behind their isolating walls of greenery,
but most were completely invisible, the driveway disappearing around a curve
or guesthouse. Every one had a gateway of some sort, ranging from two short
pillars without any gates or fences to a pair of stone pillars with a single
sliding gate on a track to large, ornate stone archways with a pair of swinging
gates and a intercom/security panel and camera.
These older, larger homes were built before the first world war between a
stretch of old highway and the last of the forest preserves. These homes had
multiple acres of lawn and trees, and neighbors who's homes were out of view.
A very few of the homes had been destroyed one way or another and the lots
turned into two, three, four, sometimes even six, separate lots, forming small
groups of middle-class homes among the offended older estates.
These new patches offered a house on side streets lined with old oaks and
elms with sidewalks and driveways to private garages. Luxuries in the dense
sprawl of Chicago's near-west side. Expensive, but affordable for those with
good jobs for both parents. The only problem was for the kids. None of the
neighboring kids were welcoming. The gall! Bringing the lessers into their
presence.
Of the families in these houses, only a few had kids. A few dozen of
the mansions had kids in the high school, but only two of those kids would even
talk to those in Ray's circle of averageness. Both of them became a part of
The Circle, and were even more unwelcome among the rich kids for it.
They never regretted it.
As he swerved among the other kids heading home, Ray's mind wandered back
to the days when his family first moved here from the apartments downtown as he
huddled deeper into his winter clothing, squinting his eyes against the strong
Chicago winter winds. He had lost the few friends he had when he moved and
was forced to start all over again. It didn't take as long as Ray feared,
though, before he had met a new friend, one who would become his best friend.
Eventually he formed a tight group of close and well-trusted friends out of the
middle-class kids living among their stuck-up neighbors. Within a year, the two
rich kids joined the ranks and the The Circle had been formed. This band of
friends would evolve over the next years, gaining a rare member temporarily,
but the Circle of Seven remained strong and loyal. Outwardly, The Circle was
well-known. The parents knew the term well and often used it to describe other
members. "Going out to hang with the circle?" some parents would ask.
Around school they were also recognized as a tight group of their own.
Currently The Circle consisted of Ray, Tom, Jeff, Todd, Eric and the rich
twins, Brent and Ryan. These seven were the solid members of The Circle. Tom
and Ray were the oldest. Jeff was next, at now fifteen, Eric was fourteen and
the twins were thirteen. Jeff's brother, Todd, the youngest, was almost
thirteen. Other members came and went, usually during summer breaks and always
relatives or friends of the seven. While inducted into The Circle and initiated
official members, they were not part of the inner Circle of Seven, as they all
referred to themselves privately.
Ray was a red-headed boy with deep brown eyes and fair skin with a few
freckles. He had the All-American look. Sturdily built with wide shoulders, the
football coach had more than once approached Ray about the team. Ray
always had the 'just not a fan' and 'really busy with stuff' reasons ready and
the coach didn't push the matter. The wrestling coach was another matter; Coach
Taylor often talked to Ray about the wrestling team. Coach Taylor was short and
slim, a former feather-weight wrestler, and often mistaken for a pupil by
teachers on parent-teacher nights, much to his apparent amusement. Ray the
coach off with the same arguments, but this coach was more insistent. Ray also
thought that perhaps the coach was after more than just his wrestling efforts.
Ray heard rumors to that effect more than once, but rumors among kids rarely
had much to do with the truth, as Ray had personally learned by now. Besides,
he was far too shy to even think of dealing with that.
Tom, also Irish-German, had very white, fair skin with nary a blemish.
Straight black hair hung from his scalp in a typical Moe-style bowl cut for the
entire time Ray has known him. A bit on the skinny side, Tom stood about 5' 6
and weighed in at about 140 pounds. He was not athletic in any way, but had
suddenly become skinny last year, going from a near butterball to a skinny,
lanky dude while growing a mere two inches. Being short as well, clinched his
lack of interest in sports. Tom dug cars. And chicks. And movies.
Usually in about that order. Tom was born two months after Ray, making him the
second oldest of seven. Tom and Ray were the founding members of The Circle.
They would also be the founding members of The Secret Circle, which eventually
became the Secret Circle of Seven. But I am getting ahead of the story.
Jeff was the next oldest, and the tallest. He was the fourth to become a
member of The Circle before it was so-named. At just under 5' 10 he was going
to be fifteen in just a couple months and was around 170 pounds. Jeff literally
towered over everyone else.
When Jeff started his puberty growth, at twelve, Ray was surprised. At
thirteen, almost fourteen, Ray thought he would remain the biggest of the
group, in more ways than one, but Jeff soon caught up and surpassed even Ray.
With straw-colored blond hair, slightly wavy but never curly, round, soft blue
eyes, light eyebrows, fair skin and braces, Jeff indeed fit the All-American
mold too. His Nordic ancestry showed clearly in his height and build, and most
especially in his facial features. Slightly chunky, not really fat, just built
big with some softness still, and no athlete, Jeff had a fairly unique
attractiveness Ray noticed the first time he saw him on the school bus that day
in freshman year. Ray referred to Jeff's kind of build as 'svelte', although
the classical meaning was a bit more than Ray used the term for. Sexily stocky
was another. Ray had noticed Jeff's growth and had kept close track of his big
hands and long, heavy fingers. The glimpses Jeff gave everyone during Friday
night dares or games left little doubt to the other members of the group that
Jeff was well-endowed, in length and girth, and probably the biggest boy of
them all now. And that his pubic hair was very light blond. Ray loved that.
Eric was the thinnest of the group. At fourteen, his hair was strawberry
blond and pale blue, almost gray eyes glinted under his nearly invisible
reddish-blond eyebrows. His skin was always tanned though. At 5' 2 and
130 pounds, dripping wet as Ray had seen him more than once, Eric was no threat
to anyone, even though he tried to be. Eric's family didn't know much about
their past, or rarely spoke of it, but Eric's ancestry had to have some of the
Angle Aisles in it, for Eric had the bright red body hair only Scots and the
Irish seem to have. His underarms and pubic hair were coppery-red. A close look
would reveal downy hair on his chest, arms and legs, but it was almost
invisible, as was the moustache he had yet to even consider shaving, as pitiful
as it looked. Slightly built, with an energetic personality, Eric was the
tornado of the group, always doing something or fidgeting around. Hyperactive
didn't do him justice. He could literally not sit still for more than five
minutes. Eric also had a slight country accent, almost a drawl. He once
mentioned growing up in Indiana, but never said much else about his history.
He was also an enigma. Eric was the third member of The Circle after Ray and
Tom. Ray and Eric met when Eric was moving into another of the new subdivisions
just being built on another former mansion lot about three years ago.
Brent an Ryan, the twins, were barely thirteen. Both showed all the signs
of growth spurts and puberty in full swing. Brent was by far the more outgoing.
Skinny, gawky, with buck teeth and a narrow face, boring blond-brown hair and
an average complexion, he would never be a lady-killer.
The twins were not identical, and Ryan, the younger of the twins, shared the
hair and skin color, but little else. Both stood about 5' 5" and weighed around
140. Ryan's head and face were rounder, smoother and his teeth straighter.
Ryan also wore wire-rimmed glasses. Brent was the athletic type, loving to
skateboard, bike and about any loud rock music. Ryan was more introverted,
liked reading books and listening to country music. Brent and Ryan did share
another trait, bright, piercing, gray eyes. Brent and Ryan were the only two
rich kids who even talked to anyone from the smaller houses, and as such, were
the only two rich kids to become members of The Circle. They were members
five and six, becoming friends with Ray, Tom and Eric, earlier the same summer
as Jeff and his brother.
Finally, Todd, Jeff's little brother, who was the shortest of The Circle.
Not the smallest, just the shortest. Not obese either, but he sure a big boy.
He also had breasts the guys teased him about constantly. And he hated sports.
Or riding bikes. Karate was different. Todd liked to watch any kind of Ultimate
Fighting on television. He was a video game fanatic in the strictest sense of
the phrase. He knew every video game, was almost always the first to finish a
new game or figure out a tough spot that stymied the rest of the group.
There were no other kids around Todd's age or younger unless you counted Sofie,
the five year old who lived closer to the twins than the rest of the group.
Naturally, Todd ended up hanging around the older kids and eventually was the
last to be initiated into the group, forming The Circle of Seven. He had met
the twins because they were closest in age and they lived nearby.
That friendship let to their meeting the older boys just last summer and being
included into the group before Todd.
Other members had come and gone over the years, mostly friends and a few
relatives of the other six members of The Circle.
Tom and Ray met in 6th grade when their families moved to the newly built
houses. They became friends so quickly, neither remembered exactly when or how.
Both were not, of course, very popular, and Tom had moved in less than a month
after Ray. The brand new homes had just been built on four plots divided out of
a formerly larger plot of land where an empty, six bedroom, semi-gothic brick
mansion had been struck by lightning and burned down. The land was sold by the
trustee to a development firm who quickly slapped four standard two-up,
two-down, three story houses with driveways and attached garages on it. While
all four new houses were separate, with a thin strip of grass between them,
they were nonetheless not much more than town homes. One large drive way
served the first two houses' garages, the houses mirror images of each other.
Another identical driveway served the other two houses, again, mirror images
of each other.
Not only did social and economic considerations isolate this group of
friends from the rest of the neighborhood, so did cars: The rich kids had them,
these kids didn't. Most of the families in the newer houses barely made ends
meet in order to live in this neighborhood. Most of the new houses, small as
they were, still sold for nearly a million dollars apiece. Affording a single
car was often a luxury for these folks. A second car was usually out of the
question. Ray's own folks make about six figures and a single car strained
their finances. Tom's parents make around eighty-thousand a year and were
constantly in financial stress to maintain a home in this neighborhood.
As Ray rounded another corner and started down another wide, suburban
residential street, he pondered on the dark shadow hanging over this week.
Not just the heavy, dark winter clouds that were perpetually overhead during a
Chicago winter, not the social barriers and not the financial separation, but
rather this particular shadow had developed over the last few years, was deeply
personal, and had grown darker and more foreboding over time. It hung over
every week. Every day. Every hour. In every way.
Ray's mind wandered back to when he was twelve and he admitted something
that was very difficult for him, even only to himself; he liked boys far more
than girls and was probably gay. At least, he had done some stuff with boys and
noticed he liked looking at and doing these things with boys, but girls seemed
strange and unattractive. From what he understood of the female anatomy, it
seemed messy, disgusting and absurd. Blood? Yeast infections? Discharges?
Tampons, douches, creams and ointments?! Gross!
For a while he lied to himself and tried to convince himself he was just
curious and would outgrow it soon. He didn't believe that for long.
From the age of about ten or eleven Ray had been curious about sex, just
like his buddies and nearly every other boy. By the time The Circle had been
formed the boys often bragged and lied to each other about getting lucky or
"gettin' some". They all knew it was bull shit, but they never called each other
on any of it. It was all in fun and good times among good friends. As time went
on and the boys grew older, almost all the gang had gotten hold of porn mags
from someone at some time or another. In the last couple years they usually sat
around smoking some grass and would flip through the pages, making comments and
laughing. Almost every Friday night, by the last page of the magazine, each boy
was rubbing and squeezing their own packages. Sometimes going as far as to rub
their crotch openly and commenting how good a bitch would be about now.
The Circle got together nearly every weekend. If there was pot and mags
around, the night invariably had one of these sessions. Not every member of the
tightly knit group showed up every weekend, rarely was there less than three of
them at a time during these Friday sleep overs. In fact, these boys were
almost always gathered in a group. It was unusual to see only one of them any
time other than in classes at school. Never, not once, had any of them ever
touched each other or done more than self-fondling, adolescent gestures of
braggadocio or the quick flash or dare. Not in the group, that is.
Back when Ray and Tom, the two oldest of the group, had turned fourteen,
they had done a bit more. Together.
As Ray rode to meet Tom at the book store, bundled in layers of heavy
winter clothing, his hands still feeling the cold even through his heavy
gloves, his lips frosting with his own breath even while wrapped behind
a ridiculously long, multi-colored scarf, he warmed himself with one of his
most pleasing memories...