Date: Thu, 31 May 2007 14:24:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dennis Banneker <storiesnew@yahoo.com>
Subject: Keeping My Son Excited - Chapter 2
__________________________________
Keeping My Son Excited - Chapter 2
by StoriesNew (Dennis Banneker)
StoriesNew@yahoo.com
May 31, 2007
__________________________________
* Andrew Hadderly, 30
* Dylan Hadderly, 14
Peter Adams, 19 (mentioned)
Shawn Adams, 16 (mentioned) * appearing this chapter
Jason Baker, 14 (mentioned)
Michael Roberts, 14, (mentioned)
* Jeremy, 18
_______________________________
[previous chapter ending - ON THE AIRPLANE]
'What did I start?' I was thinking as I slid two
fingers inside the leg of his shorts and found his naked
hard flesh.
Dylan's body stiffened. He sucked air through clenched
teeth. His hot hardness and trembling legs aroused me.
"Oh, dad!"
_______
Keeping My Son Excited
CHAPTER 2 "On Vacation"
To Sam, Steve, and Duncan.
"No underwear, I see." I gave him an approving smile,
giddy that we were doing this a mile high in the air.
"Uhh, . . . ohh, . . . yeah, dad," he said, attempting
to smile back in his current state of arousal.
Dylan was excited--enchantingly so. My own organ was
aroused along with him. I wanted to excite him more, but I
had to be sure he was all right with this.
"Is this okay, son?"
"Ohhh, yeahhh," he whispered, the breathy sound erotic.
I was never so happy in my life.
"You have precum, Dylan," I said, trying not to show my
wild emotions, my heart speeding.
"Uhmmm." My boy looked at me as if to say, 'What else
did you expect?'
I maneuvered Dylan's stiff dick so it was more fully in
the palm of my hand and began a rhythmic squeezing, along
with a slow petting of the head with my fingers. I was
jubilant, my hands trembling, thrilling to Dylan's clenched
teeth and hissing noises.
"You have a big one, Dylan," I said, giving his hot
boyhood gentle, teasing strokes, watching my boy's body
twitch.
"Oh, shit," came a weak whisper and sexy face.
I continued very slowly--too slow to make him come.
Dylan's body became stiff as a board. I released his
very warm cock.
"Take it out, Dylan."
"W-what?" he said, clearly not hearing over the erotic
rush in his head. I put my mouth closer to his ear.
"Take out your dick, Dylan." Of course, the blanket on
our laps would hide everything.
"Ok-kay."
From the lack of questions, I assumed Dylan knew what I
was up to.
Both my son's hands were needed to unzip the thin
shorts. But Dylan surprised me by sliding his hands under
the elastic waist-band.
I kept my hand on top of his, getting a visual through
the tactile sense of what my son looked like playing with
his dick.
It was incredibly arousing to feel his movements and
try to imagine seeing this in the flesh.
Dylan made my cock leap each time his erection touched
my hand--putting me into an erotic stupor equal to his.
Tracking the moves of his hands with mine made it possible
for me to get a picture in my mind of a boy playing with
himself. But it wasn't just any boy--it was Dylan!
Eventually, I looked up at my son. Another jump of my
erection resulted from seeing the most captivating sexual
face--his eyelids half closed and fluttering, mouth in a
mysterious weak smile, lips moving sensually, his shoulders
undulating with the pleasure he felt--in a haunting sexual
rhythm.
"Uh . . . oh, God . . . d-do it dad!" he said in
frantic breathlessness as his hands flew out from under his
shorts, quickly unzipping the garment.
And Dylan began the practiced movements every boy
knows--removing his penis from his shorts. His warm
wriggling fingers were exciting on their own. The blanket
hid all of this except for erotic-looking bumps that
accompanied his frenzied hand motions.
When he succeeded in freeing the hard flesh, his cock
pressed upward into my waiting hand.
I tried to squeeze it but should have known the tip of
his inflamed penis would be so covered in precum as to make
grasping it impossible. But the attempt I made and the
resulting friction as his hard penis jumped out of my grasp
made the boy moan in pleasured frustration. My son was in
heat!
I held his slick boner lower down and slid my hand
small distances, mildly stimulating his pulsating cock-
head. Dylan began to shake.
"More," he said deliriously. "Urrrrff!"
"Okay, Dyl--just hang on."
The speechless boy nodded rapidly--as if to tell me his
desperate condition and to speed my actions.
I stroked him in earnest, thrilling to the bounce of
his body each time my gripping fingers slid over the flared
ridge of the his thick boyhood.
On an airplane, thousands of feet in the air, I was
jerking off my son! And loving each sudden jolt of his
body as my hand went through the familiar motions of
masturbation--but impossibly more exciting because it was
Dylan's cock I was stroking. Stiffer, harder than any
flesh I'd ever touched.
"Eeeh, oooowr, ahh!"
When I heard those sexy high-pitched squeals, hot cum
shot out of my 14-year-old boy and coated my hand. I'm
sure a few of Dylan's hot spurts hit the blanket.
I nearly passed out from excitement, and leaned my head
against his. I found it arousing to feel us catch our
breath together and feel the heat from his face--heaving
chest gradually slowing.
The puddle of his cum on my hand made my own fluids
flow. His had to be similar to mine--the stuff that helped
form his body in the first place.
There was no hiding it--my being gay and strongly
attracted to him was out in the open to my son now, and
confirmed. I felt relieved.
"How was it?" I said, giving his over-sensitive cock a
single stroke, making him jump.
"Ah! So good. Mmm, good."
"Say it like you'd say it to your friends, Dyl."
Here, Dylan inhaled sharply and gave me a strange look.
"Fuckin awesome," he said, grinning sheepishly, trying
not to giggle.
This, I knew, was great praise--high marks for me. But
my son lost the giggle battle, and let loose with his
sensuous boyish laughter.
"Now that's awesome," I said.
"Huh?"
"I love your giggling."
"Oh," he said as if that were the most irrelevant thing
he'd ever heard. But his smile told me that my comment
pleased him.
"Just, oh?"
"God, I bet you're boned." This Dylan said as if he
were just awakening, a mischievous expression on his sweet
face.
But my son's hands were quite awake. He grasped my
shorts with perfect aim, his hand finding the length of my
erection in my swollen pants and giving it a good squeeze.
"Oh, Dylan!"
Then he spoke as if he'd just changed gears.
"You're gonna need to hold a magazine too, dad."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Your pants are wet like my shorts."
"Okay--make that two magazines, sir," I said, talking
to an imaginary salesman.
Dylan laughed.
"Dad--does this mean we're both gay?" he said as I
wondered when he was going to release my aching cock.
"Well--it can mean that. Or we could be two normal
people who just like to play together."
"*We're* not NORMAL," Dylan said instructively.
"Ahhh! NOW I've got it!" I said like a good student.
"You're funny, dad," he said, giggling, his hand to his
mouth charmingly. "I like being not normal with you."
"You're CUTE, Dylan," I said, in all love and
admiration for my son, my heart going through a thousand
emotions over him. But he was shocked.
"Dad! You're saying I'm . . . cute?"
"Yes. Is that okay?"
This made Dylan's giggles worse. He wisely calmed down
before answering.
"Yeah--it's okay. But . . . say it like I would to my
friends . . . please?"
"Oh--I don't know about that, son."
"Please, dad, please?" he said in his most engaging,
entreating 14-year-old voice--lips pressed to my ear, his
breaths alone taking my urges to a new level.
"You're fucking hot," I whispered, blushing.
"Oh, God!" Dylan said, bursting out laughing. "Oh,
God--you cursed, dad."
"So did you," I said. I knew how to play a boy's game.
"Yeah but--" he said, unsure how to proceed. "I guess
that's okay."
"Only when we're alone," I said, looking at him.
"Or when we--"
"When we what, Dyl?"
He hesitated. "Oh, nothing."
I knew better than to probe this issue on an airplane
that would land soon.
"Well, if your shorts are dry, you won't need that
magazine, after all."
"Nuh, uh!" he said, sounding five years old and staring
into space.
"Oh?"
"I got a boner." This was spoken with the most
sheepish, boyish grin I could imagine.
My son and his facial expressions could bone up the
Pope, I thought irreverently as I slid my hand under the
blanket, confirming the truth of Dylan's words, silently
begging the Pope's forgiveness.
"Wow. Boned again, huh?"
"Still," he said in a sexy voice I'd not heard before.
"I suppose I could--"
"No--we're landing," Dylan said, very adult-like.
"Are you all right, Dylan?"
"Mmm, yeah," he said, sounding like a kid let loose in
a candy store.
"We better buckle up."
I made sure our trays were fully upright and bags
safely stowed--not wanting a flight attendant to come
peering into our blanketed laps.
"Dad--can we wait for everyone to get off the plane, so
we can be last?" Dylan said, blushing.
"Sure," I said, not wanting to question him, especially
since I knew the reason he'd asked that. "But if you're
really an exhibitionist, you'll lose the magazine."
"Huh?" he said, dismayed.
"We're far, far from home, Dylan."
"Oh, yeah!" he said, grinning suddenly.
I should have kept my big mouth shut.
We were no sooner out of the gate, walking on the
promenade, when the stares and smiles began. Several girls
came in for a good look and smiled at him.
A lot more boys did the same, only their smiles were
more . . . suggestive. Even a pair of brothers stopped to
say hello--and stare at Dylan's erection--making small
talk. The brothers boned up fast and gave each other
knowing looks. I had a feeling I knew what that meant.
I couldn't give Dylan a brother, but I could help him
make a few friends, I thought. Most boys stared openly at
Dylan. Even men looked, some licking their lips.
There was a lot to see. Dylan's boner was trapped,
pointed DOWN. Only in this position did the penis make its
largest tent--the head of the boy's cock pointing outward,
stretching the fabric aggressively--in the most erotic
clothed display possible. It was plain for all to see that
here was a young teen with a very stubborn hardon. And he
was cute, too.
Some people blushed at the sight of my boy's blatant
erection, visible from a great distance. As I knew from my
junior high and high school days, nothing was more visible
and embarrassing than a downward pointing boner trapped in
your pants. As for my son's hard dick showing, I was as
proud of it as he seemed to be.
When Dylan spotted a very cute boy, 14 or 15 years old
in the distance coming toward us, he pulled his hand free
of my grip and ran ahead of me. The other boy's eyes went
right to the tent in Dylan's shorts, and the two engaged in
conversation instantly.
I stood at a discrete distance, within earshot,
pretending to read a sign. It sounded like they were
already talking about having sex. I was relieved that
Dylan's new found friend was gay.
"No, I wish I had time," the boy said.
"Where are you going?" Dylan asked impatiently,
scratching his erect cock, making the boy's eyes pop out.
"I'm outta here. Back to LA, he said, resigned. Where
you headed?" It was the boy's turn to scratch himself.
"Place called the Tahiti Haven," Dylan said.
"Ooo! You're one lucky dude," the boy said in awe,
proudly aiming his tented shorts at Dylan's crotch. Dylan
looked and smiled at the kid.
"Why?"
"They all go naked there. It's a nudist place."
"Holy shit," Dylan said, taken aback as I'd never seen
him.
"Oh. You didn't know. It's all guys, too."
"God!" My son was truly surprised and excited--the way
I wanted him.
"You're not . . . alone, are you?" the boy said with a
genuinely worried look.
"Oh, no. I'm with my dad," Dylan said, pointing to me
as I conveniently turned to face them. They looked nice
with matching tents. I smiled congenially.
"*HE'S* your dad?" the boy said, startled.
"Yeah," Dylan said, puzzled. "What's wrong?"
"He's so young, like he could be your older brother."
"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting that."
"What?" the boy said anxiously. "He's your step-dad?"
"No, no. He had me when he was sixteen."
"Shit, I could go for HIM," the boy said.
To my total amazement, Dylan blushed and looked
jealous--a touch of anger in his face. I thought he would
tell the boy to take a hike and go find his plane.
"Y-yeah, well, we gotta get going," Dylan said
tactfully and ran to me. I grasped his hand and took off.
Dylan looked back.
"He's looking at us," my son said.
"That's good, I guess."
"He was cute, but he liked you," Dylan said in a most
negative tone.
"Is that bad, son?"
"Well--n-no, I guess not. But--I mean he wanted to go
for you," he said, as if that explained everything.
Dylan's little blush and perturbed look warmed my
heart, and I wondered if this meant Dylan and I would get
closer than I'd hoped.
"Oh, I see, Dylan. Well, maybe he forgot to put his
contacts in this morning."
"Dad! You're young--and good looking."
"I'm very glad to hear you say that, son."
We retrieved our luggage and waited for a cab. No one
else was around at this particular cab stand. Curiously,
Dylan's erection had gone down.
"Daaaad, you didn't tell me we were going to a nudist
place."
"Right, Dylan. I didn't have to."
"Huh?"
"I also made reservations at a regular family resort so
we could go there if you didn't like Tahiti Haven."
"Oh. Cool," he said, his chest puffing out a bit, as
if flattered that I would have so much consideration for
what he liked or disliked. "It's all guys, too. That boy
told me."
"Right. Do you think you'll like it?"
"I'm not sure, dad. I might have a boner a lot."
Then I remembered the part of the literature that I'd
hidden from him. It explained all sorts of sexually-
oriented things.
"Here," I said, pulling out the literature. "Read this
part."
Dylan was silent a long time. As he read, his
erection returned. I touched it while he was deep in
thought.
"AH!"
"Sorry, son."
"It said boners are common for young people, especially
beginners."
"Yes, I see how that would be true."
Then Dylan was silent again.
"So, dad, we'll be walking together with boners!"
"Yes, I suppose."
By then, Dylan had the giggles so badly, he had to hold
on to me. He was quite a sight along with his tented
shorts.
I noticed everyone was fully dressed when we checked in
at the lobby. As I thought about it, it had to be that
way. Dylan was impressed with the richly decorated lobby.
I liked it myself. I was curious to see what Dylan would
do when we got to our room.
"It's so big," Dylan said as we walked through the
door. It was a high-end suite. "This looks like a living
room."
"It is. There's also a lounge, balcony, a kitchen, and
a bedroom."
As I spoke, we entered the bedroom.
"Ohhhhhh. A king size bed," he said in awed tones,
then turned to me and hugged. Then he did what all boys
do, sat on the bed and bounced.
"Glad you like it," I said, relieved that he wasn't
complaining that we'd be sharing a bed.
"Oh, the balcony!" Dylan shouted, running to the
sliding glass door. "It won't open!"
"That door has a safety latch," I said, disappointed he
didn't strip naked right way.
"Oh!"
I showed him the lever that released the lock. "Be
careful. We're on the tenth floor, you know."
"Daaaaad, I know!"
We walked to the railing together.
"Nice view."
"They're all naked!" he said, looking down at hundreds
of people, touching his privates through his shorts. "I'm
taking a shower!"
My son ran to the bathroom. I wanted to follow him,
but thought it would be better not to crowd him. Then I
discovered a second bathroom and showered there, thinking
we might get done at the same time. I wondered what
prompted Dylan to shower suddenly.
When I got back to the bed, Dylan was on his back,
pretending to be asleep. But he was naked and I drooled at
the sight of him--his blond head and delicious body, a nice
golden color, made more tan with the late Spring sun he
liked to lay out under. I leaned over and tickled him.
"Ah! I GIVE! No! No tickling, dad!"
"Okay," I said, grinning at my naked boy. "Do you
usually sleep with a boner?"
"Um . . . I don't know." His blush was beautiful. He
looked up at my nakedness, grinning contentedly.
I got on the bed, lying on my side, facing him. Dylan
grasped his erect penis at the base, making it point to the
ceiling. He had my juices flowing. I cupped his balls,
rubbing softly, loving the feel of him.
"That's awesome," he said, his breath quickening,
precum beginning to flow.
"You're beautiful, Dylan."
"Wanna watch me jerk off?"
How could I say no?!
"Sure," I said, adjusting my hardening prick, feeling
odd being totally naked with my equally unclad son. Odd,
but damn good.
"Wait, dad! Let me watch you bone up!"
"Okay."
I would have to say my boy lost his inhibitions. He
copied my movements, sensually rubbing my balls. Each
touch sent a jolt of lightning through me. But it was
thrilling to see my son's erection jump as he handled my
tight scrotum.
"Can I jerk off while I do this?"
"Sure!" I said, watching my son magically make the
lubricant appear and apply it to his stiff cock--nearly
seven inches of perfectly formed young penis.
Now a double thrill. I watched my son, a 14-year-old
boy, jerking off right next to me while fondling my balls!
And the loud squish of his speeding hand was twice as
arousing, being so near.
I was ready, too. After a minute, I grabbed Dylan's
dick and wiped the lube off with a towel.
"What are you doing? Dad, don't make me stop!"
"Can I try something?" I said calmly.
"Well--yeah, but--I wanna jack off and come! Will it
take long?"
"No. Guaranteed. This won't take long," I said,
getting myself between his smooth legs.
I did what I had dreamed of doing--slid my drooling
lips over my son's stiff hot penis.
"OHHHH! Urrrrrrrrkk! Oh, shit," he said, suddenly
lifting his butt off the bed, shoving his big dick in my
throat. I backed off.
"Easy with that thing, boy. You can hurt someone with
that." A grin accompanied my speech.
This gave Dylan an indescribable smile of pride. And
it gave me a chance to ram his cock back in my mouth and
suck my boy like I'd imagined a hundred times.
I was soon able to deep throat my boy, who could not
control his hips, his thick bone stabbing my throat
continuously, the taste of his precum so enticing, he was
going to make me come on the bedspread.
I gave my son's penis the best tongue action I could
while stroking his throbbing hardness. I was giving my son
a blow job! And from his loud squeals and breathless
shrieks, I knew his anxious cock was ready to blow.
"Wrrrraauugh!" he screamed, firing a most powerful
stream of cum into my anxious mouth. The fierce speed of
Dylan's first spurt stung my throat, but rapid, multiple
jets followed, the taste of him incredibly good.
Dylan was heaving for breath--shouting, screaming--
cumming in my mouth!
"Oh, OH! Ah . . . fuck. YAHHHH!" The curse word
sounded sweet, coming from him.
His spurting young semen was arousing enough, but the
rhythmic swelling of his man-sized dick overwhelmed me. I
swallowed many times to take my son's full load, and this
less than two hours from his last orgasm.
"Good?" I said to a sweating red body, chest heaving
with rapid breaths, his penis throbbing wildly in the air.
"Put it back in!" A request I honored immediately,
nearly choking. "Awesome, dad. Fuckin awesome."
While I waited with his dick in my mouth for Dylan's
body to calm, I rubbed him--his enthralling chest with its
pointed nipples, his tight abdomen, shoulders, even his
nearly hairless armpits, which I rubbed firmly with my full
hand so I didn't tickle him. Somewhere along the line, his
penis slid from my mouth--hard, still throbbing, and
looking so damn sexy I was ready to burst.
I didn't say a word. Our faces communicated. Dylan
turned and hugged me, his cum-coated boner pressing against
my welcoming naked skin.
"It was so good, dad! Can we do it again?"
"Yes, but--"
"ROOM SERVICE," a voice came, distinctly American.
My son's face brightened into a devilish grin as he got
out of bed and walked toward the door.
"Dylan! You have cum on your--"
"Come in," my boy said as he opened the room door.
A good-looking young man entered, maybe 17 to 19 years
old, smiling dutifully. His eyes immediately found
Dylan's cum-covered erection. The poor boy gulped, his
eyes wide looking at my shameless son's attributes.
In this case, shameless was fun. The hotel boy made my
cock throb. He was quite handsome, about six feet, two
inches tall, maybe 165 pounds--thin, but broad-shouldered.
Wispy light brown hair and hot green eyes, sporting a good
bulge in his brief bathing attire.
"Uh, well--I can come back later," the shaken lad said,
trying to look away from Dylan.
"No, that's okay, I'm done for now," Dylan said with the
cheekiest grin, shaking his hardon, forcing the older
teen's eyes to shift back to Dylan's cum-streaked boner.
My son turned to look in my direction. I practically
expected him to stick his tongue out at me.
"Oh, well . . . certainly, sir. Would you like
something?" the young man said, poised with pen on pad, but
staring at my son's dick.
It was arousing, seeing a handsome later-teen standing
in the room, his ample penis erecting in his tight, white
Speedo's. The poor server boy blushed purple when he had
to touch his growing cock to adjust it.
"Can I touch it too?" Dylan said with a sensual
alluring charm I didn't know existed in a boy of 14, let
alone my innocent son.
The late teen glanced over at me. I gave him a
comforting approving smile and a thumbs-up to relax him.
The young man responded with a huge grin.
"Oh, well--um," the embarrassed boy whispered, looking
at Dylan, "I'm on duty, but--okay, just a little."
I was thinking, 'Oh, wrong thing to say, young man!'
Obvious to me, Dylan wanted sex with the cute server
boy. To say the least. I wouldn't have minded going to
bed, the three of us, but by then I was in a sexual frenzy,
unable to think clearly. Besides, I wanted Dylan alone for
a while. I thought that would be best.
Dylan massaged and nearly jerked off the lad's big-boy
meat, right in his little bathing suit.
"Maybe you should stop," the trembling lad said, quite
unconvincingly.
"No. You can't walk down the hallways with THIS,"
Dylan said playfully, grinning as he pulled the boy's mini-
bathing suit down, dropping to his knees.
The poor kid dropped his order pad.
"This won't take long," my boy said, stroking the boy's
rampant erection, which looked to be about eight thick
inches. Dylan's hand was getting quite a workout.
So was the teenager--a victim of my boy's sexual urges.
'Set loose by his perv father,' I thought to myself. I was
a bit nervous, but proud and aroused. Privileged to be
seeing this. Watching my naked son groping the tall teen
could easily take me over the edge. I was never so horny!
When Dylan cupped the young man's unsuspecting balls,
the kid shot off--showering Dylan's shoulder, chin, and
chest with about five or six high-powered blasts, which had
my son smiling, and me stroking ardently. The sound of the
lad's semen splattering on Dylan's body nearly did me in.
"Oh, fuck, you're hot, kid," the spent young man said.
"I'm sorry, so sorry sir--I didn't mean to use bad
language," the lad said, falling all over himself.
"You're hot shit, yourself," Dylan said, shocking the
kid.
"Thank you, sir."
"I'm not 'sir,' I'm a BOY," Dylan said aggressively.
"Couldda fooled me," the kid said with a grin.
Dylan gave him a warm smile. "I'm Dylan. What's your
name?"
I'm Jeremy. Nice to meet you Dylan."
"A coke for me," my boy said, handing Jeremy his order
pad and pen. "And a gin and tonic for my dad."
"Your D-DAD?"
"Yeah, he's cool."
"Oh--um, okay, a cock for you--sorry, sorry! Coke.
Oh, God. And a gin semon leven for your . . . dad."
I'd seen everything now--a tall teen boy taking a drink
order with his uncovered cock hanging out.
"Nope," Dylan said giggling, "a gin and tonic."
"Right. G-got it. I'll be right back!" the flustered
boy said pulling up his Speedo's, exiting quickly.
"Well?" Dylan said, turning to me, squeezing his lips
tightly together.
"You took a big chance. But that was hot, son. Glad I
was here to see it," I said, still stroking my aching bone,
lying on my back in the large bed.
"Don't jerk off now, dad!"
"Okay, okay!"
Dylan put himself next to me. I stroked his happy
stiff prick, making him wiggle boyishly. I loved it. I
knew he needed to come. But, oh, was he excited!
"Dad . . . I've been wanting to . . . play with you
. . . like this, for almost a year!" Dylan said, grasping
my erection.
"Oh. So that's why you were so forward with me at home
the other day."
"Yeah, dad," Dylan said quietly, blushing badly. "I
couldn't wait."
"You kept it a secret for a long time, son. I'm proud
of you." I held back the tears. I didn't want to frighten
or confuse him. "Oh!" I said, when Dylan began to stroke
me.
"I'm not sure if I can do it right, but I hope you're
proud of me when I do THIS," he said, lifting my erection,
sliding his little lips on it.
"Oh, Dylan!" I let the tears flow as I got the sexual
thrill of my life, my son busily stretching his mouth on my
desperate penis and trying to breathe through his nose.
"I'll stop for a while and make it better for you."
"N-no. You don't . . . need to stop now, son."
"Not even for a little while?"
"Well--"
"ROOM SERVICE."
--StoriesNew (Dennis Banneker)
StoriesNew@yahoo.com
Did you like? Let me know. :-) (I have ideas for another
chapter--and thanks to some of you emailers, I have even
more good ideas that I'll use. Those who sent their
comments, a huge thank you, as well--I loved them. :-)
I haven't yet answered all who requested replies.
I hope I made you happy. If you tell me what you liked,
you'll make me very happy. Don't be shy. I'm just a guy
like you. (No website, no commercial connections, just
little ol' me. All email is private and I delete them in a
timely manner.) If you want me to reply, please let me
know.
If you write to me often, I will love you and lick you and
hug you, and keep expanding this story forever.
I hope you needed to wipe up something THIS time, after
reading. I know, some of you did last time, and that
was hot. Thanks. You other guys better change lube
or something. :-) Maybe I'll give lessons. Hmmm.
OTHER STORIES
My other stories are in Nifty's "Gay Male" Author section.
To find me there, look up Storiesnew. NOT my name!
==========
StoriesNew@yahoo.com
(Dennis)
Dennis Banneker is a 26 year-old guy who graduated with a
degree in English and hopes to try writing full time. Even
one email will be encouraging.