Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2000 01:37:16 -0600
From: Venusmachavilla@hotmail.com
Subject: Speech weekend

Hi all, I'm the same writer who wrote the Venus and Tracy stories. Tell me
what you think. Venusmachavilla@hotmail.com

He had been awake since six o'clock, unnatural for him. He combed back his
hair, dressed in his "speech clothing" and off he went. It was cold that
morning, his joints swore from the night before's dance. His mind wandered
to him, the tingle returning to his cock as he remembered the first time
they had touched. He shuddered at the thought of his voice, his hands, his
lips, his cock... he was brought back to reality as he boarded the bus. As
he looked out the window he started to daydream about that night, one week
ago. The way he smiled, his eyes looking at his, the way his hands went up
his shirt... Again he was brought back to the fact that they had arrived at
something-or-other-high. He went through the morning, not thinking much
about him... he was nervous about his performance. As he walked into the
room, his mind wandered to him, how he wished he could be there, to watch
him do something he did well..other than suck off his wonderful cock. The
time keeper said his name again and he snapped out of it. He smiled at the
small crowd and performed his poetry. It was wonderful, the best he had
ever done, and it showed. He got staright ones, very good at a state
contest.

The rest of the afternoon, pleased with his results, he daydreamed about
him. His mind wandered back to the hotel room, his hands on him, his dick
pressing through his jeans. The way his body looked, smelled, tasted. He
wanted it more and more. The more he thought, the harder she got. At some
point he had moved into the bathroom, jacking himself off. He came as he
thought of him cumming in his mouth. Tasting his sweet, tangy cum down his
throat. He licked his lips as this image played on in his mind.
Unfortunately, they had only brung him to around three o'clock. He sat at
the top of the bleachers for the rest of the day, wrapped in his coat,
thinking of him. By the time he got home he was ready to see him again.
Unfortunately, his parents had other plans. They wanted to "talk." As the
tears ran down his face he wanted him there to kiss away his tears. To make
everything just fade away. Make him feel wanted, needed... good at
something.

He showered and changed into "normal people clothing" and drove to meet
him.  He looked better than the picture she had of him. They drove around
until they found a safe place and he finally sucked him off. As he started
his hands ran down his face, holding his head. But for some reason after
they had started he began to have tears stream down his face. Not of pain,
or of joy. Just tears. He inadvertently wiped them away from his face, he
wanted this. He wanted him to talk dirty, to tell him he was good.  To say
his name. The only bad thing about giving head is the inability to tell the
person how you love to do it. At some point his, position changed and his
head was on his stomach/chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was amazing. In
his hand was his cock and in his ear was his heartbeat. After some time he
again sucked on him until he came. It tasted good, yet his body regected it
at first. Still, it was so good, so memorable. As he finished he took one
last lick and sat up. How he wanted to kiss him at that moment. But his cum
covered lips turned him against the idea.  He wanted to do it more, to
please him in everyway he wanted and desired.

He drove back to his car, and the evening ended in a wonderful kiss on the
cheek. As he smiled and leaned in, his hand carressed his face and he
shuddered.  His lips them met his skin and she sighed. It was the perfect
ending to a great day.