Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2006 15:13:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dennis Banneker <storiesnew@yahoo.com>
Subject: Kevin's Horny High School Days and Boy Discoveries - Chapter 1
Kevin's Horny High School Days and Boy Discoveries - Chapter 1
at Thurber Boys Academy
with a note for U.K. and other readers.
by Dennis Banneker
September 29, 2006
StoriesNew@yahoo.com
[Ages 12-17; action in all chapters, starting with ch. 1]
(NOTE: On the advice of my British friends, I've included a note
of explanation concerning certain terms and details of the school
system in the USA. Please see the end of this file for the text,
"A NOTE FOR MY U.K. READERS.")
Other stories: Crazy for Chad, ch. 18, came out 28 Sept 2006.
(High school). My full story list is at the end of that chapter.
List includes dates, story summary, and character ages.
_________________________________________________________________
The memory of my high school days is so vivid, I know I'll never
forget them. I was inspired by a few key events and created this
story. I can't say it's a true story because I changed so much
major stuff, it's nothing like what actually happened. None of the
participants will recognize themselves or anything familiar. All
names have been changed.
--Dennis
P.S. I was sick for most of the summer and still trying to
recover. I'm glad to be back.
--D.B.
_______________________________________________________________
KEVIN'S HORNY HIGH SCHOOL DAYS AND BOY DISCOVERIES
AT THURBER BOYS ACADEMY
by Dennis Banneker
StoriesNew@yahoo.com
Kevin Tillerson, 14 (narrates)
Shawn McNair, 14
Kyle Wonderly, 14
Brian Wonderly, 16
Steve Ashton, 14
Phillip Benton, 13
Jamie Weller, 13
Matt Pearson, 17
Joshua Barnes, 15
Troy Barnes, 17
______________________________
CHAPTER 1
I have a clear memory of that first day of high school, which
was less then two months ago. I remember how frightened I felt
being in a strange new building--excited, too. I love thinking
about it. Thurber is so different from any other school I've
attended, and I was frightened at first. Now, I'm well settled in.
But my first day there was a very special day in my life.
I close my eyes and can hear boys running down the halls, some
of them shouting, desperate to get to their classrooms before the
bell rang. Frenzied footsteps and the sounds of lockers slamming,
muffled cursing as combination locks were turned and turned again--
echo in my ears.
It was a warm, happy place, filled with activity and the heat
of over-zealous boilers as they poured too much heat into the
building and the September air. All the windows were open.
I enjoyed the sight of the other boys my age, their blurred
bodies racing past me, most of the new ones hoping they were
running in the right direction--needing only a pair of horns on
their heads to complete the illusion of a cattle stampede.
I was one of the new ones, along with some friends from junior
high school, but I'd never seen most of the other freshmen students
before. I'd no sooner thought that when a familiar face came
speeding toward me.
"Get out of the way, Kevin! You're so slow, you'll be late!"
Shawn McNair shouted as he sprinted toward me with a sort of half-
smile on his face.
His friendly voice echoed off the walls as his sweaty hand
grasped my arm--branding it with its strong grip--pulling me to the
side with a tug as he sped by. Shawn was being his usual friendly,
aggressive self, but he looked for all the world like the leader of
a cavalry brigade charging the enemy.
"Oh!" I said as my rear end cushioned my sudden stop against a
locker. It wasn't a violent thing and there was no pain. I
couldn't help smiling. I liked Shawn a lot.
It took only a second at the time, but even now, I slide my
fingers over the spot on my arm in warm retrospect and feel the
imprint of his hand and the moisture of his reckless, 14-year-old
eagerness--the hint of a smile giving weight to the moment,
immortalizing it. His teeth had a perfection that fascinated me.
"Wake up, Tillerson!" Shawn added from many yards away, turning
his head sufficiently that I heard him above the din as he
propelled himself forward, plowing a zigzag path through the
crowded hallway. He was a good runner.
By the time I regained my composure, the distance between us
made it impossible for Shawn to hear my reply--if I *had* replied,
that is. My lips moved silently, as if whispering as I mouthed the
words, 'My classroom is right here,' while I stared at the top of
his blond head, blurred as it was in the distance.
We'd been on the track team in junior high school. We planned
to do the same at Thurber. I may have been slow in the hallways,
but I'm one of the top runners. I had a lot of admiration for
Shawn because of his running ability, the way he worked out and
took care of his body. If there was anyone who was physically
perfect, with every muscle exercised just so without being bulked,
it was Shawn McNair.
Unlike other schools I'd gone to, here I went from room to room
to attend my classes. In the halls, I had to contend with older
boys so tall and big that I first wondered if my mother hadn't
driven me to the wrong school. It felt odd to be several hundred
miles from home.
There were other novelties for me--parts of the building were
incomplete or had makeshift furniture. The school was under
construction for major remodeling, and the inrush of so many new
students, especially freshman such as Shawn and I, seemed to put
the whole establishment under strain. About twenty other kids from
my junior high school attended Thurber Academy.
The place was unusual to me in other ways--this was my first
all-boys school and there were stricter rules. You had to use a
jock strap for PE, shower naked afterwards (no more showers with
briefs on), wear school trousers, a school jacket and tie, stand to
answer questions in class, and be punished for even a second of
lateness. It's a wonder they didn't issue school underwear. I'd
heard that if the coach was mad, he'd make you do the whole gym
class naked.
Thurber Boys Academy was also my first private school. It was
heavily promoted where I lived, and since the public high school
had a not-so-good reputation, most of the parents in the area
gladly sent their boys there. The richer ones sent their junior-
high-school boys here, to spare them the trauma of changing their
whole social scene at the critical age of 14--which I was doing.
But I didn't feel any trauma.
I was relieved I wouldn't be boarding here without friends--it
would be very strange to suddenly live in a dormitory with a bunch
of boys I didn't know, but the idea of sleeping in close quarters
with my friends warmed my insides.
You would think I'd be concerned with the weird rules, joining
a team, adjusting to dorm life, learning my way through the maze of
hallways, acquainting myself with the work, my teachers, and
meeting lots of other boys my age--but no. I worried that my penis
would harden when least expected, and that others would see.
I blushed just thinking about that, and would become the
embarrassed recipient of odd stares from my classmates should they
happen to notice the color in my face. The thought of being naked
in gym class terrified me.
I took a seat at a back corner of the room and waited for the
first bell to ring. Some of the boys, I knew from junior high.
My eyes could not help scanning the room to find the
outstanding ones--the good-lookers, the strong, the athletic boys--
wondering what sports they played or how they looked when naked in
the locker room--a habit that had cropped up recently. I enjoyed
this but always felt an odd tension.
My only real experience with this sort of face-and-body spying
was at the playground or the beach the past summer. But I adjusted
quickly to the new venue.
Looking at the guys in this class was more fuel than my little
boy-stick needed to begin its familiar stiffening, and since it had
been growing lately, the feel of the spongy head pressing hard into
my underwear was more startling than ever.
By the time the teacher arrived, I was absorbed with faces,
haircuts, eyes, the shape of lips, ears, hands, bulges--too much to
concentrate on the lesson. Roll call was mandatory, so I had a
kind of free interim to stare further at whatever caught my fancy.
The boy nearest me turned and spoke.
"Hi, Kevin," he said, glad to see a familiar face, I assumed.
"Hi," I said quietly, nodding and smiling nervously at him. I
couldn't think of his name.
We knew each other from Mountainville Junior High, though we
weren't close. I wondered if he saw what I'd been doing. I was
always afraid a fellow student would catch me staring and say nasty
things afterward.
To tell the truth, I was just looking--aware that I craved
something without knowing what it was. My parents were so
overprotective, I hadn't socialized the way I should have, except
for friends I made from the track team at my junior high school--
the locker room socializing often substantial and generally polite,
notably at a comfortable volume compared to the football or
basketball guys.
So I wasn't totally isolated, but knew very few sex words
except the nicknames for penis, and what bits of adolescent banter
yielded a few coherent terms when we showered or traveled together.
The terms I didn't know, I ignored and didn't ask questions.
Questions always alerted others of your interests, and I was smart
enough to avoid that.
But when I played with little Kevin at night, mental pictures
of my classmates' faces and bodies became an exciting backdrop for
my self-pleasuring--that and the indelible memory of one of the
cutest boys in my class getting up to answer a question with a tent
in his pants--causing a rare minute of silence as the rest of us
blushed sympathetically.
The rude sound of a book falling flat to the floor took me back
to the present.
Leaning back in my seat and slumping, I was able to see the
legs of most of the other boys and became aware of the oversized
desks. Surely, these were meant for the giants I'd seen in the
hallways, as there was a great distance between the tops of thighs
and the undersides of the desks. This welcome perspective and
potential for viewing other boys' private moments gave a sudden
impulse to little Kevin's rise to fullness.
It aroused me to see the length of my dick pressing against the
cloth of my pants-leg. The tip of it sent messages that relief
would be needed soon each time it throbbed up and tried to stretch
my pants. I thought about switching to briefs, but this was too
much fun.
With the heel of my hand, I slid over the hardness, pushing it
down and petting it at the same time. I felt the heat rise to my
face and was glad to be at the back of the room where no one would
notice the redness in my cheeks.
Kyle Wonderly, the smallest of the boys my age that I knew from
my former school and one of my favorites because of his good looks,
arrived just before the bell rang. Having seen me, Kyle hurried to
the back of the classroom and sat to my right. His was a full,
friendly smile that invigorated me. I wondered if he noticed the
crimson in my cheeks.
We whispered our hellos while I thought he was fortunate that
his name was near the very end of the alphabet. We were good
friends.
We'd changed a bit over the summer, it seemed, but neither of
us gained much weight or height, although I was noticeably taller
than Kyle. Kyle's face was more fascinating now for some reason,
though I'd seen him often during the summer break. Maybe he was
blushing a little, I couldn't tell.
My dad said that 14 is the age a boy changes the most. Being
the only boy in my household, I yearned to talk with him about my
body and sexual issues, but I didn't dare. Even if sex was an open
topic at my house and I did dare, I could never tell my dad that I
found myself looking at boys all the time (and I was slowly
discovering that). I was glad my family was loving and old-
fashioned because I learned a lot of great things--but sex was not
one of them.
There was something about the seat of Kyle's pants that caught
my eye as he sat. Odd, I thought. I seldom looked there when
sizing up a boy, and I could fathom shape nor texture that had
seized my attention--other than I had seen Kyle more or less naked
a few times dressing for gym class, and had a fair image of his
back end, less clothing.
I don't think I saw any of them fully naked. We were all
freshman and 14 years old, a few were 13--and it was no secret that
sudden erections were common at our age. It was no secret to
everyone but me--I had great powers of non-observation. Despite
the evidence in the locker room, I was surely the only boy with
that problem. I thought I got hard because I liked boys--something
I admitted to myself before the end of the first day of school.
This evidence in the locker room had a subtlety that added to
my excitement. Because of our unexpected and frequent arousal, all
sorts of strange practices emerged for hiding one's crotch while
managing to undress and put on jockstrap and gym shorts. A well-
bent-over posture with your back to your locker or a towel
strategically placed usually did the job of keeping a penis out of
sight. Some of the bigger 14-year-olds let it all hang out, but
very few--and even these covered up if they were hard.
Curiously, the presence of a towel in front of a boy revealed
the thing he wanted to hide--that he was erect. This kept little
Kevin very busy trying to become as big as possible, so I did my
own red-faced towel maneuvers until I donned the first article of
clothing--thankful for the tight pull of the jockstrap that
squashed my penis against my body.
A movement to my right brought me out of my thoughts.
Till then, I hadn't noticed Kyle bending to pick up a paper
he'd dropped. But I did see him glance under my desk as he
straightened up, smiling sheepishly at me. We both knew what he'd
seen, and his grinning blushing face so enthralled me that I forgot
my own embarrassment for a moment.
I suppose to Kyle, with a brother and two sports commitments,
seeing a bulge in another boy's pants wasn't a major event. If I
had known, I wouldn't have felt I'd be better off sinking into a
hole--although his friendly face compensated. Not having the
advantage of a brother, I had to figure things out on my own. I
got it wrong most of the time and gave significance to the
insignificant, making me deficient in the important aspects of a
boy's life, but I kept working at that.
Kyle was small for 14, but there was a look to his face, a
maturity maybe, that told me he was old enough to go home and play
with himself and shoot off, like I did. Little Kevin signaled his
agreement by nodding. I wondered how all that would work out in
the dorm. It wouldn't have the privacy of home, but I imagined it
would be easy to find a place to do it.
As I settled in, pretending to listen to the lesson, I saw
several private moments of my classmates--hands sliding repeatedly
beneath the desks, fingers grasping stubborn protrusions, faces
reddening.
Each of these visuals put me deeper into a gut-wrenching need
to shoot off, while also suffering from an urgent need to see their
bulges in the flesh--a need that I could not explain at the time
and tugged at my insides. I knew enough not to walk up to a boy
and ask him to undress. Other than that, I was hard put to find a
way to satisfy my intense curiosity.
One boy, Phillip Benton, had the audacity to slide his hand
inside his clothing--the sight of his subtle slow movements causing
some moisture to flow from little Kevin as he tried to rip through
my pants. I half-seriously wondered if I could die from an over-
stiff boner and lack of release. I contemplated shooting off in a
stall in the boys room, but I never did during my freshman year.
Kyle sat too close for me to have a direct view of his lap.
When I leaned to the left and down, I caught glimpses, but I was
too distracted by Phillip to give Kyle much attention. Phillip,
one of the few 13-year-olds in my freshman group of friends, began
to squirm, and I thought the teacher would notice. But I was
grateful this was not to be.
I came out of my daze, having heard a change in the teacher's
voice--that familiar tone they all use when asking a question
directly to a student, an occasion that, at this school, called for
the boy to stand up. My mind became numb fearing the question was
directed at me.
But it was Kyle who had that distinction. He arose with great
hesitation, instantly alerting me to his problem. I thought I
might be wrong, but all doubts disappeared when he stood, and I
looked to the side directly into a very bulging pair of pants--
protruding right at the fly--one of the most obvious boners I'd
ever seen. Little Kyle must have been big, his erection stood out
so prominently.
I felt sorry for Kyle as more and more boys turned in their
seats to see him answer the question--and I was hard put to even
know what the question was. I died a little, watching his crimson
face darken as the others got a direct look at the big problem in
Kyle's pants. By then, I was throbbing.
He stammered for a moment but answered correctly. The teacher
nodded, quickly motioning for him to sit down. But the damage was
done. I imagined Kyle would fold his arms and lay his head down in
total embarrassment.
Instead, he turned and grinned at me as if the whole thing were
a game. I felt my eyes widen at his mischievous smile--indignant
that he did not take his penis seriously nor show discomfort having
had it on such intense public display. I felt the humiliation
*for* him.
It took a while to calm myself so that I could again scan under
desks for the private attentions the others gave to the general
region of their upper legs and hips. The activity excited me
intensely--my mind would go blank, my dick hard, and I felt a
warmth between my legs.
This was all new to me. The year before, I was just a boy,
keeping to myself, wishing for more friends and things to do--and a
dick wasn't anything to think about. Everything changed when I got
closer to my 14th birthday, and a penis became the center of my
attention--as long as it belonged to a good-looking boy.
At night, I focused on little Kevin while reviewing what I had
seen in school. During the day, I could not stop thinking about
another boy's pole--'member,' I had read in the encyclopedia. The
'male member' this, the 'male member' that. I never got over my
first wrong impression that they were talking about a club.
But it was always one penis at a time--until much later, when I
progressed in my carnal thinking to the incredible fantasy of a
group of naked boys in various poses, usually standing. My
favorite was a large number of naked boys, all lined up for me to
inspect. And I was bold about my fantasies--the absurdity of them
never crossed my mind. But the dream never included an inspection,
as I hadn't yet advanced to the point of knowing what I would do,
actually.
I wasn't sure I liked this new fascination because it made me
nervous staring at other boys and took up a lot of my time, but it
was too fascinating and exciting to ignore. I didn't know anything
but to look at them, feel funny down there, and think about them at
night. Like most boys, I suppose, I had discovered that
persistence pays off when you rub your penis a certain way.
While the teacher busied himself at the blackboard, lecturing
constantly, a movement caught my eye. I turned to see Kyle staring
at me with his most impish grin--and I gasped when my eyes traveled
down his slumped body. The moment he saw me looking, his eyes
brightened. I was staring at Kyle Wonderly's naked penis--stone
hard.
He held a book in front of it, so that only half the book could
be seen above the desk, the bottom snuggled under his balls and
resting on his thighs. I thought little Kevin was wet, but that
was nothing compared to the glistening coat on Kyle's pole.
He shook it, tapping it against the book, and grinned again--
proud of the thing that looked to be at least twice the size of
mine, and proud of himself for his boldness, I supposed, from the
look on his face. His penis was beautiful. I wondered if he would
leave stains on the book.
I found myself aroused, afraid, intimidated, all at once. I
loved that he played with himself, touching his long shaft, looking
down at his dick, turning and grinning--putting on a show just for
me. But I felt envy because I was taller and bigger than Kyle, and
the proud owner of a dick half that size. Jealousy faded as a
dream was coming true, and for the first time, I saw an erect penis
in the flesh, with Kyle grinning happily while I stared--little
Kevin bouncing, and big Kevin trying not to drool.
Even though Kyle was making a game of it, this was a major
fantasy in the flesh--the welcome sight of an angel-faced boy such
as Kyle inviting me to look at his most private part. Hard or soft
didn't matter, but hard was nice. Nothing like this had ever
happened before, and aroused me tremendously.
And how did I react? Not at all as I thought I would. After
my initial response, getting totally horny, I was afraid--afraid
that he would see how he thrilled me--that he would know the depth
of my enjoyment, and that all my pleasure would turn against me in
the form of Kyle's anger and disgust.
Kyle was one of my closest friends. You would think I could
have joined in with his playfulness--grin and giggle back at him--
but no. This was serious stuff to me. I was too immature to run
slipshod over the taboo, and fear took the place of youthful
abandon.
Kyle seemed disappointed in my response until I managed to
overcome my fear and force a grin. I suppose I had enough
compassion that I felt obligated to give him some satisfaction for
his efforts. There *was* pleasure on my part--the view of his
naked boyhood aroused me like nothing else, and that deepened my
grin for a moment.
Just when I thought the teacher had seen my smile and would ask
me to stand up to explain, a blushing boy came in late--Shawn
McNair, of all people. He had run in the wrong direction after
all, and blushed worse when he saw me. I gulped, wondering what
awful fate would meet him now.
"I'm glad you could join us, Mister McNair," Mr. Foley said
dryly, making me shiver. It didn't help Shawn's case that he
looked disheveled, perhaps from wandering about, looking for his
classroom and sweating.
"I'm sorry, sir. I got lost."
That was another weird thing about this school--these were
grown men teaching us--we were 14, and they called us, 'Mister.'
We had to call them, 'sir.' I started to think the school was
built on weirdness. Maybe all private schools were that way.
"Sit down, Mister McNair, while I decide your punishment."
Punishment! Even the word angered me. It was unsettling
enough that they memorized our pictures and names before the start
of the school year--I had hoped for a week of anonymity--but it was
pure agony to me, knowing that Shawn would be punished, and I could
be, too, for lateness, even when I couldn't help being late.
I was very nervous for Shawn. I liked him, and felt he didn't
deserve to be punished for being confused in a new building and
getting lost. Especially on the first day.
"Five strokes," Mr. Foley said.
I had no idea what he meant, except that my dad gave me strokes
of a hairbrush when he punished me--but surely the teacher didn't
intend to actually hit Shawn with anything.
All the boys that had been here before, we discovered through
cleverly overheard conversations, and while they never named the
punishments, they said they were very mild here, and no one got
hurt. That knowledge didn't slow my heart, which pounded in
sympathy for Shawn.
Up to that time, I was never interested in current events, so I
didn't know our state had passed new laws a few years ago that
allowed for more liberal discipline in the high schools, nor that
private institutions such as Thurber Boys Academy were generally
stricter than the average school. The law didn't permit anything
gross or very painful.
Later, I would find out that the state limited all spankings to
the butt and issued lightweight rulers and yardsticks to each
school, while banning all other implements except the hand. The
overall result was slightly more frequent punishments, but the
level of pain was too low to be taken seriously.
"Should I send him to the Principal?" Foley asked, looking up
at us, "Or give him his punishment in front of the class?"
"The class," most of them said. I was too nervous to speak.
Kyle put his hand on his forehead and looked down at his desk
despairingly. Shawn turned purple.
The teacher summoned Shawn to the front of the room. I was
outraged that the other boys snickered--as if Shawn's punishment
were something to laugh about. I didn't know that my brain lacked
something that made me seriously out of touch with my peers. I was
stupid that way, but great at schoolwork.
I was more angry now. A punishment in front of the class? Why
couldn't he say, "See me after school in my office."? I wasn't one
to cuss, but in my mind I was thinking, 'This is bullshit.'
"You don't know the procedure, do you?" Foley said, knowing
that was true. Shawn was as new to the school as I was.
"No, sir."
"Lower your trousers and underwear to your knees. Put your
hands behind your neck, bend over, rest your head against the
blackboard for balance."
My jaw dropped in shock as I rebelled and thought they couldn't
do this sort of thing to us. To my way of thinking he'd told Shawn
to get naked. Astonished murmurs and more snickering drifted
across the room. As much as I yearned to see Shawn naked, I didn't
want it to be *this* way.
Shawn wanted it over with, so he moved quickly. In seconds, I
saw his bare butt. Little Kevin jumped up with excitement. I
don't know why, but the sight of Shawn's naked butt sticking out
nearly took me over the top. It was always the other side of a boy
that held my interest. Shawn's rear end was very white and smooth,
like it had an innocence of its own. Most of us weren't old enough
to have hair on our butts.
The wispy layer of blond hair on his legs caught the light and
sparkled. His pale hairless globes were a nice contrast, and I
began to get the idea that a boy's back end could be sexy to look
at. I still couldn't believe Foley was actually going to hit him.
The whole punishment thing was ridiculous, and the way Foley
went about it frightened me. I was relieved when he picked up a
yardstick. I knew that wouldn't hurt much because my dad used to
punish me with one, but I also knew it made a loud sound when it
struck. Shawn was stiffly bent over with his head dutifully
against the board when Foley spoke.
"Straighten up, boy. Turn toward the class. Let everyone get
a good look at the face of the wrongdoer."
I blushed really badly at the thought of Shawn and what was
about to happen. I thought it was terrible that he had to keep his
hands behind his head. They didn't need to have painful
punishments--they embarrassed a boy to death.
Shawn's face, nice as it was, would not be the object of my
attentions, I thought, as my lust overcame a pang of guilt.
Poor Shawn, naked in front of us with his long, limp penis
front and center--very sexy-looking and much bigger than mine, as
Kyle's was--but my fear of Shawn's punishment took away most of the
pleasure of seeing a handsome athletic boy half naked. My heart
pounded in sympathy for him. At least he wasn't hard. There was
something sexy about his pants at his knees that I didn't
understand. Little Kevin did.
My heart raced as Shawn blushed--his face, ears, even his neck,
a fiery red. More whispers floated about, but Foley quieted them.
"Turn around and bend now, Mister McNair," the teacher said.
"Spread your legs wider."
That did it--my dick drooled and made a wet spot. But that was
the least of my concerns.
My eyes focused more intently on Shawn's crotch. I could see
his balls through his legs--and beyond that, the tip of his dick.
I petted little Kevin gently, praying he would not shoot. I had
never encountered this view of a boy before and was amazed that I
could see his privates while looking at him from behind.
Foley called up four boys to steady Shawn. I thought that was
ridiculous. I took lots of yardstick spankings at home and never
needed support. Two knelt and had to hold his knees; the other two
each took an arm. The four hesitant boys were as red-faced as
Shawn, but the cute boy about to be whacked blushed worse than ever
when the others put their hands on him. I could see a little of
his face from the side.
The first whack was louder than I'd anticipated. Shawn gave a
shout of surprise. My eyes flew shut hoping to block out the
humiliation for Shawn, but little Kevin liked this for some reason.
The next four seemed louder yet, but Shawn was quiet.
Knowing from experience that the yardstick hurt very little
saved me from falling apart--and saved Shawn a lot of
embarrassment. I yelled when I got the hairbrush at home--but
there is something instinctively humiliating about shouting in pain
in front of other guys your age, especially your friends.
From my seat, I could see more of Shawn than the boys who had
only a straight-on view. When I looked again, I saw his penis
hard. Probably the other boys touching him made that happen.
"Oh, now you've given your classmates something to look at,
Mister McNair," Foley said as Shawn stood up, squirming oddly. "Do
keep you hands behind your head and face them."
I was enraged. He made the poor kid turn around and stay that
way for the next five minutes while he continued to lecture. I
tried not to look but couldn't resist looking at such a cute boy
with his dick hard and hands behind his head. Like me, Shawn was
14, but much taller and sexier.
I noticed the blushes and bulges of the four helpers as they
returned to their desks. Did that mean there were others besides
me that liked seeing a naked boy's penis? I wasn't convinced.
Though I wasn't raised that way, I knew most boys were taught to
think of it as something dirty. I tried to think of ways to see
boys naked without having to sneak peeks in the showers, but that
effort was unsuccessful.
A deep sigh came from my right. I knew it was Kyle. I guess I
wasn't that shocked to see him stroking his dick, but very
surprised and excited. I petted little Kevin like mad. Kyle
stopped just as I thought he might shoot his stuff.
"Later," he mouthed, a finger pointing discreetly at me, his
eyes meeting mine.
This confused, shocked, and scared me. Kyle turned around to
face front before I could answer--not that I could think of
anything to say while he jiggled the book that held his dick for my
benefit. I didn't need to say anything, content as I was staring
at his erection, which took on the look of a big weight laid
against the pages to keep them open. More of the clear fluid
spilled out.
I couldn't stop being bothered by "Later," spoken as if Kyle
knew what excited me and was going to help me get what I wanted. I
didn't know what I wanted, myself. "Later" haunted me.
I also didn't know this kind of subtle, sexual accusation was a
common joke among boys, an accepted means of teasing. I thought
he'd found me out and was serious. While I felt excited by the
latter, I was mortified by the former.
I wasn't sure what Kyle had discovered about me but was
convinced I hadn't revealed my deep secret. That didn't ease my
fear. Embarrassment and fear always overruled everything else in
my mind.
When my head cleared, I wondered what we would do, or could do,
if we actually met later. That mystery heightened my arousal
rather than lessened it. Surely, if there was something we could
do, it would be exciting and wonderful--and forbidden.
I jumped out of my skin when the bell rang.
I remained seated, surprised to find myself panting--and to
find Kyle doing the same, staring at me as he fingered the wetness
at the tip of his penis. Eventually, he stuffed his big boy parts
into his pants and buttoned up. I don't know if there is such a
thing as a sexual smirk, but that's how Kyle's face looked to me.
The shape of his lips at that moment had my juices flowing.
I began to hope Kyle would join the track team. I was
imagining us all in the shower--and dying of curiosity to see how
many other boys might stare at Kyle's big boyhood.
But I was miserable, knowing instinctively that Kyle wasn't
serious about meeting later. I convinced myself he wanted to meet
me, and would if it weren't for some hidden reason--something
beyond my grasp. This mystery bothered me. I would have felt such
relief if I'd only known enough to say, 'Sure. What time later?'
and laugh it off as a big joke.
I gave this subject a lot of thought and concluded that, even
knowing that a boy might be joking, I could not bring myself to
refuse his invitation. Everything sexual was very important and
serious by default. I didn't like the weakness that I saw in
myself. By some method, I would get myself on the other side of
this--to be so heavily involved with boys and sex that there could
be no question of invitations or insecurity.
I was convinced that if Kyle, or even Shawn, were interested in
seeing a dick, they would not hesitate to say so and pursue it.
Not many more days would pass before I saw the folly of my
thoughts.
Kyle's turning head took me out of my daze.
"Everyone's gone. Wanna see it again?" he said with the wide-
eyed excitement of a boy half his age--his mouth half-full of spit,
the liquid clicks of his tongue bouncing off the walls and little
droplets flying into the air as he spoke. Maybe Kyle was drooling
for sex? Did I make him horny? No, it couldn't be.
"Sure," I said softly, weakly--but I'd said it. I'd made my
decision and voiced it, feeling quite proud of myself. Did I want
to see it again? I'd take it to my room if I could.
My heart pounded, and I think I drooled as Kyle pulled his
zipper down, opened his pants, and struggled with his underwear--
gulping sensually--his eyes on mine the whole time. He finally
pulled the underwear down because it was too hard to get his dick
out through the fly. His hands trembled a bit.
"You like it, don't ya?" he said confidently as he pointed his
beautiful weapon at me, his hands at his sides, his hard flesh
echoing his heartbeat.
I nodded, unable to speak with my mouth open and limp with
fascination. I was enchanted with the thing. A throb in my chest
rose to my throat and made it difficult to breathe. I thought it
was cute, the way he stared at it.
"Yeah, I can tell," he said, smiling warmly. "You know where
my room is. Stop by around four o'clock."
"No joke?" I asked, anticipating a painful rejection, wondering
where I got the courage to speak up.
"I swear, Kevin," he said with a yearning look, kneeling beside
my desk, deliberately sliding his warm hand on my leg. I believed
him. I stared at the spot where he'd touched me.
"Okay," I said, dreading the embarrassment I would feel--
knocking at the door of Kyle's room, knowing I was there to see his
penis. Again I nodded, this time wiping drool from my chin.
"You really DO like it," Kyle said quietly, stuffing everything
back into his pants--grinning and taking off for his next class.
Mine was a study hall.
I took a deep breath and let it out as I sat down at one of
many tables in the large room. The look of Kyle's face loomed
large in my mind's eye. I saw sincerity in it.
Soon I was scanning, my eyes darting about, mostly at the laps
and faces of the better-looking boys. I felt more relaxed here and
enjoyed myself as I went from face to face, lap to lap.
I wondered how many other 14-year-olds did this--some hope
building that there *were* others--and gulped with a pang of guilt.
A subtle voice in my head said, 'I wonder how many other 14-year-
olds have as much FUN as you.' This I accepted and eagerly renewed
my efforts.
Something caught my eye. Across the aisle to my right, two
rows down, I saw Shawn McNair, slumped sensually in his seat, his
athletic legs nearly bursting the seams of his pants, and his thumb
busily sliding over the length of his erection.
Although Shawn was one of the 14-year-olds that put my dick to
shame--I felt a connection to him, a sort of equality. Being in
track saved me from oblivion because my light weight helped my
speed, and I was good. That gave me something to my credit. Shawn
was in track, too, and the only boy whose dick I'd seen naked and
hard. That memory did nothing to calm little Kevin. I wondered if
he still felt embarrassed or would cringe to look any of us in the
eye after his little classroom spanking.
Since I was at the back of the room, I took a hint from Phillip
Benton and put my hand inside my underpants. I was careful not to
shoot, but I played with little Kevin like never before--and he
liked the looks of Shawn pleasuring himself.
I loved looking at him, but wondered what I would do with him
if I had the chance. The question of what I wanted bothered me so
much at that point, I had to resolve it. I decided that I would
love to be up close to a boy like Shawn and watch while he played
with himself and shot his stuff.
I remembered a day in the shower room after an away track meet
at Alvedo Junior High, when Shawn McNair suddenly stood out to me.
He was one of the few boys who were really tall and had a dick way
bigger than the rest of us--and a decent-sized bush around it. I
stared.
I wasn't aware of sex at that time, except I knew when I
touched my penis it felt good. I always liked being in the shower
room when it was full of steam. It gave me a comforting, secure
feeling. I was glad they had a separate shower for the visiting
team.
"Hey Shawn--are you sure you're only fourteen?" Steve Ashton
said. He was one of the taller boys on our team whose dick hadn't
caught up with his height--it was small, like mine--but Steve was a
big boy.
There was no way for me to know if Steve was serious or joking.
Because I had that same question in the back of my mind, I thought
Steve was serious. Shawn was caught off guard.
"Um--yeah," he said, blushing suddenly. Along with the blush,
Shawn's penis started to grow.
Little Kevin started to grow, too, as my eyes locked on Shawn's
big thing thickening and lengthening, not ten feet from where I
stood, and wished I could have a dick as nice as his. I found
myself feeling admiration for it, and another emotion I couldn't
identify. I had no idea I was standing there with a boner. Shawn
noticed and gave me a weak grin.
"Hey, Kevin!" Steve said with a naughty grin, obviously in a
playful mood, distracting me from Shawn. "Are you thinking about
your girlfriend?"
"No," I said, not realizing this would cause everyone to laugh
at me.
"Hey, guys," Steve continued, "it must be US. Kevin likes our
cocks. Do you like mine, Kevin?"
I never blushed so badly in my life. Steve was making fun of
me and a few of the other boys joined in. I was so nervous and
embarrassed, I didn't know what to say or even if I *could* say
anything, so I stayed quiet.
"Look at his bone, man. He likes my cock."
I felt so bad, I turned to face the wall.
"Okay, that's enough," I heard Shawn say. He was the biggest
guy on our team, and I think when he spoke up, the other boys
realized Steve had gone too far.
It was quiet in the shower room, and while facing the wall, I
hopefully imagined all the guys leaving with a pang of remorse.
I was still hard, but the silence led me to turn around and
rinse off. Shawn and I were the only ones left. I was grateful
for his help, but still red-faced as I looked up at him. I opened
my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Sorry about that," Shawn said. His look of regret turned to a
grin.
"Thanks," I said, my curiosity aroused at the sight of him
naked and looking all around, like a boy about to raid the cookie
jar. He was getting hard again.
I'll never forget the look on Shawn's face as he tugged on his
cock and grinned at me as he left the shower room. I grabbed my
towel to hide my bone and went to my locker, thrilled, scared, and
confused. Did I imagine it? Was I making too much of it? I
slipped into a daydream and pictured myself boldly going up to
Shawn, asking if he wanted to play naked.
By the time I woke from my thoughts and realized I was in high
school sitting in a study hall, my dick was so hard, it hurt--and I
was never so glad to be in the back of a room.
I resumed looking at Shawn in the flesh, drooling over the long
cylinder outlined in his pants.
Another movement distracted me from Shawn. Off to my left, I
saw Jamie Weller, a small boy I vaguely knew from the upper grade
school that connected with my junior-high building. I was glad to
see another familiar face in this big building that held high-
school and junior-high students, but surprised to see they had us
mixed together in this study hall. The classrooms were in separate
areas, and the junior high has its own lunch room.
Knowing how sexy Shawn was and that he was the type of boy that
excited me--he could easily pass for 15--I didn't hold out much
hope for any interesting visuals from Jamie. Watching Jamie was
more of a curiosity. Something about his face and petite size
fascinated me for the moment.
Jamie shifted in his seat. His young age made me wonder if he
even knew what was causing him to squirm, his little penis bulging
with each movement. Little Kevin encouraged me to keep looking.
Because Jamie was small and thin, I got bold thoughts--maybe
because I felt safe--that he probably couldn't get the upper hand
if it came to a fight. I imagined the two of us alone and naked.
I would be brave, touch his penis, and make him feel those good
things. That was the first time I had thought of touching another
boy there. Little Kevin went crazy over that.
I lost my breath when Jamie looked at me, very aware that I was
staring at his lap. He blushed immediately and giggled.
When Jamie saw my erection sticking up, trying to break through
my pants, he put his hand to his mouth and continued his quiet
laughter. He carried his jacket quite skillfully, I thought, as he
went to the desk and got a hall pass.
I knew he was going to the boys room and could not stop myself
from following him. I also couldn't walk fast enough--each leg
seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. I felt a tremble in my body and
was glad I had my notebook to hide little Kevin from prying eyes.
"Oh," Jamie said, gasping as I walked into the boys room.
As he stood stiffly at the urinal, I could see his erection,
the odd way he held it, and his deep blush. These thrilled me
along with his charming sway, as he shifted from foot to foot. I
stood to his left, having figured out this would put my right hand
nearest the good parts.
My bravery continued. I stared openly at his little penis,
conscious of my every move as I smiled and looked down at him.
Jamie looked too nervous to smile, probably never having had a
boy pursue him and stare at his dick--a very erect dick.
The size didn't matter--his hardness was a sexual icon that
oozed male arousal. Inspired by Jamie's erection, my own penis
jerked upward, desperate for hardness, as if tuned in to Jamie's
sexual wavelength where soft was forbidden.
I'm sure it was clear to him that I liked what I saw. Little
Kevin was on his way up. The boy managed a tentative smile.
"Does it feel good?" I asked, staring at his rampant stiffness
--whispering softly lest I frighten him. I knew if I scared him
away, he might go running to a teacher and get me in deep trouble.
That terrified me.
"No. Well--sometimes. It feels weird now. Hurts a little."
His answer made my dick throb. I worried when he said it hurt.
Then it made sense--this was probably the stiffest boner he ever
had, it was so red and brittle-looking.
"I know how to make it feel good," I said warmly, giving Jamie
a friendly smile while my guts shook with fear. I had made my move
and there was no taking it back--despite my lack of hands-on
experience with another boy's penis.
"Feel good?" he said, baffled.
"Yeah. I can make it feel really good." I knew how to make
*my* dick feel good, so why not his?
"How?" Jamie said, his innocent brown eyes nearly pleading,
making my heart pound.
"Well--can I show you?" I replied, moving my hand in the
general direction of his privates.
"Okay," he said with a simplicity and openness that aroused me.
Suddenly, he looked very young, and I became doubtful.
"I . . . I want to, Jamie--but . . . I don't know if I should--
if I should be the one to show you." He looked 9 years old, so I
had second thoughts, even though I was sure he was 12.
"Please, please--don't say no." Jamie gritted his teeth--his
reddening face anxious.
"Well--"
"I've seen other boys whip it out in here, and I always look
. . . because . . . it just looks so good," he said, obviously
pouring his heart out--telling me a deep secret while his fingers
did a little dance on his stiff red cock.
That reminded me to pull out my own half-erection. If I hadn't
been nervous, I'm sure it would have been hard.
"Whew, that's better," I said, pretending to be relaxed. I
felt little Kevin stiffen. Jamie's eyes went wide.
"God! It's big," he said, open mouthed, his eyes fixed on
little Kevin. It was the first time anyone had talked about my
dick and said it was big. It got rock hard.
He'd said he'd peeked before--that cocks looked good. I could
relate to that.
"This'll feel really good," I said, staying on course, bringing
my hand into contact with another boy's penis for the first time.
A pulsation went through me from head to toe.
Trembling, I slid my fingers back and forth loosely,
rhythmically, while loving the feel of his hot flesh in my hand. I
don't remember ever being as stiff as Jamie was.
"Oh . . . OH!" he said, his knees weakening, his body
convulsing as he bent at the waist. The flush in his cute face
gave him an irresistible, erotic look.
I steadied him, maintaining my gentle stroking, amazed at the
strong throbs that made his little dick jump. The tip of it poking
the palm of my hand had the strength of a thumb, and pushed my hand
away. The heat of it was incredible. I got a better grasp on the
hot thing.
"Ahhh!" he said, trying to whisper discreetly as I felt a few
moist drops fall to my hand.
"Feel good?"
"Yeurff!"
The kid's knees failed completely, his penis expelled more
drops of a thin, cloudy liquid. I rushed to grab Jamie around the
waist to keep him from falling.
"Don't stop," he said.
Knowing exactly how he felt, I tightened my grip around his
bouncing cock and resumed stroking--amazed that he had more liquid
to give me.
I was sure I would shoot just from the feel of his hot boyhood
in my hand, and the equally hot liquid that coated and lubricated
hand and penis.
When I stroked Jamie full-fisted with his own juice, the boy
howled. Two streams of stuff shot out of him, striking the urinal
noisily--impressing me and taking little Kevin to his limit. I
needed to shoot badly, but time was running out. And I was having
too much fun with a boy's dick throbbing in my hand, loving the
feel and look of his stuff.
"Wow," I said, shaking, but proud of myself that I could make a
boy do that and amazed with Jamie's shooting ability. More than
that, it felt like the start of a new chapter in my life.
"Oh . . . oh . . . . Do it again," he said, panting, his
boyish voice sounding much younger than his twelve or thirteen
years, but loaded with sexual need, thrilling me.
I couldn't imagine doing it again to little Kevin so soon.
What did Jamie have that I didn't have? I looked at my watch.
"There's no time, Jamie. Besides, we haven't peed yet."
"I don't care," he said hoarsely and grabbed my dick. He did
his best to stroke it and grinned up at me, looking for approval, I
think.
I gave him the encouragement he wanted, smiling back at him,
putting an arm around his shoulders. He was very serious about
stroking me, his own penis still hard and suddenly jumping wildly--
a sight that made me drool. Little Kevin loved Jamie's hot hand.
"Ooo, that's good," I said--not sure myself whether I meant his
stroking my dick or the hot look of his penis bouncing.
The warning bell ended our fun. We went to separate stalls to
pee. Still panting, we retrieved our things from the study hall,
blushing with stubborn excitement. The study-hall teacher eyed us
oddly, but seeing our smiles, gave us a grin as she left. We had
honored the rules and got back before the second bell.
School was done for the day. I pictured the hallways packed
with boys and wondered what it would be like if I were at my locker
just then.
"I wanna do it again," Jamie said boldly, but his enchanting
bashfulness and giggling soon overshadowed his brazen attempt. His
cute manner encouraged me and had a novelty that became a new
attraction for me. Little Kevin throbbed with need.
"Okay. Whenever you want and I'm available," I said,
whispering and putting a finger to my lips. "I made you feel
good?" I loved the way he blushed at everything I said.
"Yeah, awesome. What about you when--"
"You made my dick feel . . . better than it ever has. But this
was your first time, and you have some catching up to do--so I'll
do it to YOU a lot.
"Cool."
"How old are you?" Even though I knew Jamie by sight from my
old school, I knew nothing about him.
"Twelve. I'll be thirteen next month."
At least I had that much right.
"You're in eighth grade?"
"Yeah. Do you like my penis?" he said, grinning excitedly and
bubbling with giggles when he said 'penis.'
"Yeah. I love it. It's strong and manly looking. So, you like
to say that word, 'penis?'"
"Well--" he said, blushing cutely, "I don't get to say it a
lot, but I like to call it that."
"Yeah--me, too," I said, wishing we were alone again.
"Awesome." He made me feel like I was the only other boy who
liked that word.
"So this was your first time?" I knew it was, but wasn't sure
exactly a first time for what--except for some nice touching and
Jamie shooting--feeling I had reached a landmark, but not knowing
what the landmark was. As much as I'd enjoyed what happened, I
still felt in the dark.
"Yeah. What about you?" he asked sweetly.
"My first time, too."
"But . . . you're fourteen--a freshman, right?" he said,
surprised at my lack of experience.
"Yes." I hoped my virgin status didn't disappoint the kid.
"Wow. A big boy's first time," Jamie said wistfully. "And it
was with me. You picked me."
"Yeah. How'd you know?" I said, ashamed that he knew, relieved
he wasn't abandoning me for more fertile territory.
"You followed me. I loved it when you walked in, but I was so
scared in there."
So, the giggling kid was luring me--a very arousing thought.
"You looked really excited," I said softly, approvingly, yet
baffled at my strong attraction to a smaller boy.
"'Cause my penis was hard?" He giggled again.
"Yes. Really hard."
"You wanna come to my room? It's right next to the gym." That
was a good location for the younger boys dorm. It was close to the
main buildings and they wouldn't have far to walk.
"I'd love to, Jamie--but I promised a boy I'd help him study
after school today." I lied, not wanting to tell him I was hoping
Kyle and I could do what I'd just done with Jamie.
"Could you come over later?"
"Sure," I said with a smile, knowing how good it felt to play
with him this way. He gave me dorm and room number, but looked
disappointed as he walked off. I hoped he wasn't thinking I didn't
like him.
I practically ran to my dorm, where I hoped Kyle would be. I
had to carry my books in front to hide little Kevin. I gulped just
before I knocked, the idea coming back to me that I was visiting a
boy to see his dick. I was glad it was one student to a room.
Kyle looked cool and sounded very friendly when he opened the
door with a smile. That made me feel better about this.
"Hey, Kevin--glad you made it."
"Thanks."
It wasn't so bad that Kyle's penis was much bigger than mine
--a fact burned into my brain from the show he gave me in class. I
was told about boys developing at different ages. But because I
knew the size of his dick, it was hard for me to think of him as a
kid my age--even though Kyle was small. He also seemed to act very
mature in some ways. The more I looked at him, the more I thought
of him as an older boy.
"I just dusted off my swimming trophies," Kyle said as he led
me to his bookcase.
"I'm nervous," I said, admiring the great number of trophies.
"Don't be. We're alone. You're safe here with me," Kyle said,
putting a big trophy down and turning to me. I want you to feel
safe, okay?"
"Okay. Your trophies are cool."
There he was, acting even more mature than I ever did. I
stared into eyes that had such warmth, they melted me. Kyle moved
in so close, our belt-buckles touched.
"Just, 'okay?'" he said, putting his hands behind me, his mouth
forming a smile that actually calmed me.
Kyle was waking up something in my head that wiped out my
tension. I felt protected. That made me more horny. It was
strange to have a kid as small as Kyle affect me that way. But it
made it easier to say whatever came to mind.
"No, Kyle--not just okay," I said, gaining confidence, smiling
at him. I exhaled and felt more relaxed. "I feel totally . . .
not just safe. I don't know, like you're really glad I'm here." I
wished he'd just take his dick out.
"Yes," he said, pulling me to him, electrifying little Kevin
when his bulge pressed in. "I want you."
His words, the sound of his voice, the look on his face--I saw
fireworks.
That's when he kissed me.
Everything swirled around while Kyle's soft warm lips pressed
into mine until we were squirming. I had a natural instinct to
press little Kevin into him. Subtle moves of his lips took me on a
sexy journey inside my body until I was dizzy. Why hadn't we done
this before?
"Oh," I said, thrilled and excited beyond anything I'd
imagined, "that was fantastic."
Kyle looked very pleased, and that encouraged me.
I didn't know the exact meaning of, 'I want you,' but whatever
it was, I couldn't wait to experience it.
"I want you to feel good. To like what happens here."
"Oh God, Kyle." My knees went weak. "I never felt so good."
"Whoa," he said, seeing me wobbling on my feet, helping me to
the bed. I loved what he'd just done, and felt very cared for as I
lay there on my back.
Kyle knelt beside the bed, bending over me, looking so
concerned.
"Whoa?" I said, baffled.
"I thought you were gonna fall. You're really sweet, Kev. Are
you okay?"
"Way okay."
"Mmm, that's good."
I reached up and pulled him to me. Somehow, he knew what I
wanted and slowly moved in to kiss me again. I was kissing him
back this time.
"Wow. That was my first--I mean, I never . . . oh, man!" Even
though it was our second kiss, I had the feeling we both thought of
them as one big kiss.
"Your first kiss?" he said with the biggest brightest grin.
"My first really great kiss."
Then he stood. I loved looking at his body from this position-
-flat on my back. He looked tall that way.
It wasn't like he was showing off--Kyle just had a big bulge.
The really cool part, for me, was that I'd already seen what makes
that bulge in the flesh and could picture it. I also couldn't
resist the temptation to touch it. I gave it a little squeeze and
rubbed it gently.
I've watched my own penis jump, I'd seen and felt Jamie's dick
throb--but nothing matched the power and speed of Kyle's erection
thrusting his jeans out suddenly.
"You make me hard, so fast," he said, stroking my hair as I sat
up.
I saw so many things in his eyes--warmth, caring, a hint of
mischief. And something else I knew nothing about, but it had me
feeling warm all over.
"I want to see this," I said, rubbing his bulge again. At the
same time, I squeezed my boner to make it more obvious in my pants.
"I wanna see THAT, too," Kyle said, staring at my little
cylinder. He undid his belt and top button. Then he leaned in,
and I loved feeling the heat of him in my face. I thought he was
going to do more, but he stayed that way.
It had never occurred to me to undress a boy or take his penis
out, but that's what Kyle's body was telling me. And he was
standing--I thought that was sexy.
"You want ME to . . . do the rest?"
"Sure. If you want to."
My hands shook as they went to his zipper. I felt little Kevin
give a throb as I pulled it down.
"I never did this before. Can I--"
"Sshh. Don't ask. Do what you want."
"Your brother goes here, right?" I said, feeling the need to
talk for some reason.
"Haha, yeah. He's over there in the next room. My dad saw to
that," Kyle said with a grin, pointing to the far wall.
I did it slowly--pushing his jeans and underwear down at the
same time. I was careful to pull everything forward so I wouldn't
hurt his penis--it was so hard. When I got his pants down a bit
more, his erection flew up at me.
I thought I knew what Kyle's dick looked like from his daring
antics in the classroom, but it had a new look now--a beauty and
perfection that left me stunned and very aroused. I held it,
touching it with my fingertips as I admired his hardness. It
seemed larger than it had been in the classroom.
With both hands, I held his big penis with reverence, staring
into it like a worshipper expecting wisdom and inspiration to flow
forth; desiring to take it in and have its knowledge and strength a
permanent part of me.
"It's beautiful," I said, barely getting the words out through
the fantastic elation that gripped me.
I looked up at Kyle, shaken with the combination of my thoughts
and his organ's mysterious, mesmerizing appeal--without the
slightest notion that having made the penis the center of my
attention, I was open to the idea of making it a god that I
worshipped constantly. And I was a very willing idolater.
"Thank you," he said. "You're beautiful too, Kevin."
"Ohh." I was more moaning than speaking. There was magic in
the air--his words and his cock--and I began to pant.
"Stand up, Kev, so I can do that to you." Kyle took my hand
and helped me up, sensing that I was still shaky. I felt a bond of
friendship with Kyle that I had with no other boy.
"Ooo!" I exclaimed.
This had never happened before--hands not my own unzipping me
and handling my underwear, pulling them down for me--and it was
overwhelming. The sight of him dizzied me--kneeling in front of
me, with my dick sticking out at him. I had pictured myself on my
knees, watching his big pole bounce, but the sight of Kyle kneeling
and staring at my cock stirred me almost as much. I thought of
Shawn and hoped I could do this with him someday.
We pulled the rest of our clothes off, and in seconds we were
two naked boys. With both of us standing toe to toe, it seemed
natural to put my hands on his ribs. Being naked together was new-
-and very exciting. Kyle seemed to know what he wanted and
suddenly went to his knees.
"Can I suck it?" he said, sitting on his bed, looking up at me,
his warm hand on little Kevin and his mouth so close--with me
leaning to one side to catch a glimpse of the pole of flesh I
wanted so badly.
"I . . . I don't know what that is." That was another thing
that made me think of Kyle as an older boy--he knew so much.
"Sweet baby," he said, hugging my thighs and kissing them.
"Okay. We can do that another time." He looked very happy that I
didn't know about this. That's when his hands made love to little
Kevin.
"Oh . . . oh! I'm gonna--"
"That's good, Kevin. Let it happen."
"Urrrrrr. Afff!"
He held my legs while I shot like I never had before, his
fingers doing a dance that made me explode.
My stuff hit him in the face, but I was having a thrill so
intense, nothing else registered as that special feeling took over.
The last thing I remember before I closed my eyes is Kyle's
contented smile as my stuff splattered his lips and chin.
When I opened my eyes, his face was covered with it. I wasn't
sure this was a good thing.
"Oh, God--what I did to your face!"
"Mmmm, you're hot!" Kyle said, shocking me when he licked my
stuff off his lips. "IT'S hot."
There was so much of it on his face. As he sat on the bed, he
helped me sit down next to him. I wasn't sure what 'hot' was.
I was too dazed to speak, and very taken with what he'd done to
me. I looked on as he brought a finger to his face, slid it
through my stuff, and licked it off.
"Oh, man!" I finally said, not daring to say how stunned I was
that he put his finger in his mouth.
"You taste awesome, Kev."
That's when I saw the head of Kyle's penis, all shiny with the
clear stuff. It excited me. I knew it was a good thing but still
felt uneasy that he put my stuff in his mouth.
"I can't believe you did that."
"What--made you come?"
"Um--I don't know that word."
Kyle's face changed to a more angelic look.
"Baby, sweet baby," he said, laying me down, leaning over me
and rubbing my face so gently. "You're so beautiful and innocent.
Honest, Kevin--I feel like I'm--I don't know, it's like maybe I
shouldn't teach you these things. I thought he'd already showed me
everything.
It was a rerun of what I'd said to Jamie.
"Okay, but--I really want to learn." It was a wonderful
feeling--me on my back, with Kyle sitting, leaning over me.
"When you shoot your stuff, that's coming."
"Oh, okay. No, when I came it was awesome, but I didn't mean
that. I meant . . . I was surprised you put my stuff in your
mouth." I finally got the courage to say it.
"Oh, that's pretty common," he said, wiping more from his face
and licking it from his finger. "Mmm. The taste of you isn't
common though." Kyle had a big smile. "Did you ever taste your
cum?"
"What?" My face scrunched up in confusion.
"Cum is your semen--the stuff that shoots out."
"Oh." I was real hesitant to taste my own cum, but Kyle was so
happy with it, I took my finger and slid some off his face. I shut
my eyes and put my finger in my mouth.
"That was quick. How is it?"
"Nice. Sorta creamy. Nothing like what I expected."
"Cool. If I were you, I'd eat it all, every time I jerked off.
You taste really good, Kevin," Kyle said, getting more and slurping
it. "Uh, oh," he said, seeing my baffled expression. "What do you
call it when you keep touching your dick and you come?"
"Playing with it . . . or rubbing it, I guess."
"That's what jerking off is. And I'm horny--that's what you
feel when you wanna come."
"Okay," I said with a big grin, happy that I learned some new
words. "Let me do it to you." I surprised myself with my
boldness.
"Oh, yeah," he said, climbing in next to me.
Something snapped. My fears all disappeared. I knew I could
tell Kyle anything.
I reached for his dick, but Kyle was staring at mine like he
saw something interesting.
"Something wrong?" I said, not thinking anything was actually
wrong.
"No. I see more cum. That always happens, some just drips out
after a while."
"Oh--yeah."
By that time, Kyle was kneeling, his knees between my legs.
"I want to lick it off. Is that all right?"
"You wanna . . . put your tongue on it?"
"Yeah," he said with a grin.
"Okay."
I no sooner said that when his tongue swept across the head of
my dick. "AHH!" I screamed while little Kevin jumped a million
times. "That felt so good, but--"
"Intense?"
"Yeah! You got that other stuff coming out," I said, staring
hungrily at his penis. "Can I lick it?"
"Yes--if you're sure you want to."
"Oh, yeah," I said, already on my knees, bending over Kyle's
big erection. I had to think a minute. I didn't let it show, but
I felt this was a big step for me--tasting a dick for the first
time.
As soon as my tongue touched his cock, I was thrilled. It was
so alive, hard and warm, and that stuff was delicious. Kyle
squealed. My new god pleased me more than I'd expected.
"That was good, Kev. Did you like it?"
"I loved it. I never did that before." He had me so relaxed,
I loved just saying what I felt.
Our eyes met, and I knew right away we would kiss. It was a
hot kiss, long and powerful, as if Kyle were making a ceremony of
it--maybe his way of saying he knew the big step I just took. Kyle
and little Kyle took my breath away.
"I got something else to show you--if you want."
"Yeah," I said, trading places with him quickly.
"I'm gonna lick some more stuff off you. This time I'll spread
my lips on your dick."
"Okay," I said, tremendously excited, my heart pounding.
Kyle licked the end of little Kevin's tip, and when he spread
his lips, they slid over the whole head.
"Oh God, URRFF!" I was on fire.
"Oh, yeah--you're hot, all right."
"Does that mean . . . sexy?" I said, panting.
"Yep."
Then Kyle got a strange look on his face. He knelt and played
with his penis.
That's when it hit me that Kyle needed to come. I'd forgotten.
"Can you come when someone does that?" I said, my dick tingling
like crazy. I wanted to shoot again. I remembered the word. We
were both horny, but Kyle needed it bad. I hoped I was right.
"Oh, yeah."
"Let me do that to you," I said, eager to have more contact
with his penis.
"Ooo, yeah." In a second we scrambled for position.
Kyle stood up as I sat on the bed drooling, lusting after him.
His frantic penis, the throbbing long shaft and dripping head,
waited patiently while I slid to my knees--the only right pose for
the proper adoration of its beauty and strength. I ran my fingers
through the manly hairs that protected my god, causing twitches in
Kyle's abdomen and legs.
I didn't think this time, the subtle scent of his reddened cock
beckoned me to press my lips on the anxious thing and let them
slide over the tip and glory in its heat and hardness.
For the first time, I had a boy's penis in my mouth, or part of
one. It seemed natural to slide my lips further and take in about
half of little Kyle.
"Oh, oh! Kevin! You're sucking it!"
I had a feeling that's what sucking meant.
"It's so good," I said, already feeling I wanted to do more of
this. Maybe it was addictive.
I didn't have to think about the next part and slid my lips up
and down Kyle's penis. They way it pulsated and contracted--such a
live response--made me keep doing it. Little Kevin was going nuts,
like this was being done to *him.*
"Easy," Kyle said, holding my head, "I'm gonna come any
second."
"Okay."
"But I'll shoot in your mouth if you keep going."
"Is that okay?"
"Oh, yeah. That's the best, but--"
"I wanna do it the best way."
Now, I couldn't wait to make a boy come with my mouth. And
Kyle of all people, the cutest, gentlest boy I knew. I kept
sliding up and down, totally thrilled with Kyle's dick--the way it
kept throbbing. Suddenly, I wished I could swallow it whole.
"Ohhhh, YEAH!" he screamed.
I wasn't ready for a sudden blast of stuff, and most of the
first stream leaked out, but then I was ready. I wanted his cum.
I swallowed while I pumped Kyle's big dick with my mouth. I wished
he would come forever, I loved the feel of it so much. Kyle moaned
so sensually, my cock swelled with desire.
His convulsive bend forward, hands finding my shoulders to
support his body, the weight of him pressing his squirting penis
deeper into the mouth that welcomed it--exploded in the culmination
of everything sexual as I pressed my fingers into his tight butt
while Kyle shot his guts into me.
As I thrilled to the taste of him and the fantastic feel of raw
male craving and energy--the exquisite sensation of making a boy
come and actually feeling it squirt in my mouth--my hand slipped to
his balls. Strangely, sporadic images of Shawn and Jamie flashed
in my head as Kyle shouted and squirmed.
"Oh, YES!" he screamed, and a giant blast of stuff shot into
me. He grabbed my shoulders, pawing me. Instinctively, I knew he
was telling me he liked it--the incredible force of the hot liquid
etching my tongue proof of his ecstasy.
This was thrilling, something momentous--so primal and
intimate--a boy feeding me the stuff of his life because I gave his
manhood its ultimate pleasure and brought him to a frenzy of
convulsions with my lips and tongue--my sore knees meager testament
to my efforts as the prize of his cum warmed my throat until it
rested safely in my stomach, where I would absorb him and have him
forever.
I was never so aroused and stunned in my life. Now, with the
feel of heaven in my heart and the taste of Kyle fresh in my mouth-
-I knew. I had found true significance. *This* is what I wanted
with a boy.
I couldn't wait to get to Jamie.
Dennis Banneker
Any comments would be great!
StoriesNew@yahoo.com Kevin-hhdays/ch 1/W-rm 1.9
Find my other stories under STORIESNEW in Nifty's author section.
I have a more detailed story list that I will post later. If you'd
like to see it now, go to High School, Crazy for Chad, chapter 18
(the latest chapter as of 27 Sept. 2006).
The following will help me write a better chapter. If you can,
tell me what you liked. If you're at a loss for words, tell me
what I left out that you wanted to see. Also, if you find that
chapters like this are too long, or anything that's not right,
please tell me. I'm a friendly guy, sort of like Kevin. :-)
--Dennis
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com
__________________________
A NOTE FOR MY U.K. READERS
SCHOOL SYSTEM:
Subtract five from the student's age in September to get the
'Grade' he is in.
A 6-year-old attends 1st grade; 14-year-old, 9th grade, etc.
Very often, 7th and 8th grades are in a separate building called
junior high school. Otherwise, Grade School (also called Grammar
School) encompasses grades 1 through 8. There is some variation:
some junior-high schools include the 6th grade, others, the 9th.
Traditionally, high school spans grades 9 through 12. It can be
said that a student is "in the 9th grade, 10th grade," etc., but
more often these grades are called:
9 - Freshman year / Entering age: 14
10 - Sophomore / 15
11 - Junior / 16
12 - Senior / 17 (most are 18 years old at graduation)
Typically, in speech: "I'm in my Freshman year," or, "I'm a
Freshman/Sophomore, etc." This applies to all four years.
Private schools actually are privately owned and funded, and while
these must operate within state laws, they normally act
independently of many government mandates for schools.
Public schools, available through the 12th grade, are wholly funded
and operated by local and state governments.
What is normally called 'university' in Europe, is usually called
'College' in the US. Entering students are traditionally 18 years
old.
--Dennis
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com