Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2000 03:00:37 -0500 (EST)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: LOVING ANDY - Part 2 (t/b, inc, oral)

LOVING ANDY - Part 2 (t/b, inc, oral)
by Lemmaire

Morning broke way too soon.  I could have laid there forever, holding Andy's
warm young body in my arms, spooned up tight against his back, listening to
the soft sound of his breathing while he slept.  My hard cock was pressed
against his ass and for a moment, I almost considered trying to enter him.
But it was much too soon for that, I knew.  Much too soon.

Last night when he came to my room, I didn't expect him to sleep with me all
night.  I certainly didn't think we'd end up kissing and moaning and
stroking each other to an explosive climax.  But it had happened.  And now
as I cuddled my sleeping brother, I wasn't quite sure how I should feel
about it.

I felt guilty, of course...like I'd betrayed him somehow...stepped over the
bounds of good behavior...but as I heard him sigh and push back against me,
cradling his small butt against my straining groin, it was hard to think of
anything but enjoying the moment.  Guilt could wait.  Hell, at 16, I'd felt
guilty all my life...a few rare moments of peace wouldn't kill me.

So, trying to ignore the fact that he was my little brother -- or maybe
trying extra hard to remember it -- I'm not quite sure which was the
stronger of the two emotions -- I kissed the back of his smooth, soft neck,
touching it gently with my lips, looking at the soft, downy hairs that just
barely showed...inhaling his sweet, boyish skin...pressing my nose against
the back of his hair, breathing in, just enjoying the closeness of him.

I felt him stir, then heard him yawn and felt his body stretch.  An angel
waking up...slowly, gently...relaxed and peaceful, just like everything else
about him.  We'd shared a very special experience last night.  Our first
time, sexually, together.  An experience that Andy had initiated.
Practically begged for.

His arms reached out from under the covers as he stretched and yawned again.
He turned around to face me, his blond hair sticking up in funny morning
patterns, his eyes bright and lively, a smile already on his lips.  He
draped an arm across my side.  Thunk.  Like we were old army buddies or
something.

"Morning," he yawned.  "What are you doing in my bed?"

I grinned.  "It's my bed, moron.  You raped me last night."

He shrugged, comically, flashing his sweet, innocent deer eyes at me.  I
swear, he must practice that look in front of a mirror.  12 years old, and
already best supporting actor material.

"We whacked each other off, Mikey.  Get a clue."  He kissed me on the cheek.
"Man, you can sure make a mountain out of a mouse hole."

"Mole hill," I smiled.  "Get a clue."

He yawned again and looked completely unimpressed.

"Whatever.  Who's ever even SEEN a mole?"

What a beautiful child.  I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him.  He
groaned in fake annoyance.

"And now the hugging begins," he sighed.  "I play with your dick for a few
minutes last night and now you're gonna go all Aunt Stella on me."

"Shut up, Squirt."

He winked at me.  I kissed his nose.  It tickled him.  He rubbed it with the
back of his hand, screwing his face up, shutting his eyes tight.  I did it
again, just to annoy him.

"You better get out of here," I said, coming to my senses, feeling some of
that old familiar guilt starting to seep back in.  "Mom'll come down and
wonder what you're doing in my bed without any pants on."

A look of complete, mock surprise.

"You mean you took my pants off?"

"Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes.  "I had to tie you down.  You really put up
a fight, remember?"

He grinned and reached between my legs.  He gave my dick a playful squeeze
and made a funny face, like he was surprised to find it there.

"Yuck," he said.  "I've got your dried stuff all over my stomach," He made a
distasteful grimace.  "I feel like a glazed donut."

I laughed.  "Go shower.  And go upstairs and get back in your own bed before
Mom comes down and pops a nut."

He squeezed my dick again and flicked the tip of it with his finger (which
hurt) - smiled brightly and hopped out of bed.  I watched the outline of his
thin, smooth body under my oversized t-shirt he was wearing, once again
finding myself guilty to be aroused by the sight of my little brother,
half-dressed.  I knew it was wrong, but right then, all I wanted to do was
lift up the shirt and stare at his nakedness.  Touch it.  Kiss it.  Lick him
from head to toe.

Instead, I watched casually, hiding my morning erection under the covers as
he searched the room for his white briefs, kicked off frantically in last
night's passion, now lying in a heap with mine, wrinkled on the floor.  He
put them on quickly, offering me a flash look at his small, smooth butt
cheeks as he stepped into the shorts.

"No peeking," he said.  "That's for dessert."

I grabbed the pillow from behind my head and threw it at him.  Great shot.
I hit him right in the head.

"Ball-sucker," he said.

"You wish," I replied.

"I DO wish," he grinned.  "Only you'd probably have some big guilty coronary
over it."

With that, he stuck out his tongue, turned, wiggled his hips comically at
me, and sashayed out of my room, doing some strange walk I can only describe
as a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Ginger on "Gilligan's Island."

I looked at my alarm clock and stretched my arms.  6:30, Saturday morning.

I could tell I was in for an interesting day.

_______________________________________________________________

"Are you boys going to be okay tonight?"

Mom stood at the door, buttoning her coat, her purse draped over her
shoulder, giving us that funny-looking strict look of hers she hardly ever
uses.  The one that means, "don't give me any shit, Sparky...I'm your Mom,
and I'll pulverize you."

We knew it was all for show, but we stood there obedient and angelic anyway,
lined up in front of her like Wally and the Beaver.  You could practically
see the halos blinking over our heads.

"Oh, we'll be fine," Andy said in exaggerated tones.  "Mikey's gonna teach
me how to blow him today."

I almost choked.  I'm sure I must have blushed.  My parents didn't have a
clue I was gay, so the comment went right past her.

"Honestly, Andrew," Mom sighed.  "I don't know where you kids learn that
gutter talk."

"Gutters," he said proudly.

I shrugged, recovering enough to maintain my casual innocence.

Outside, Dad honked the horn twice, impatient.

"Well, if you need anything, the number's by the phone."

They were off to some hotel for the weekend.  Not the first time they'd
planned a little getaway without us.  As soon as I was old enough to
babysit, Mom and Dad turned into swingers again.  Tonight it was some
musical out of town or something.

Mom kissed us both on the cheek -- I let her do it without too much argument
-- Andy, of course, screwed his face up and acted like her lips were on
fire.  She tousled his hair and told him to be good and do whatever I told
him.

Whatever I told him.  Sure.

I had a funny flash fantasy of Andy on his hands and knees in a dog collar,
me standing over him with a whip, wearing a garter belt.

I stifled a smile.  The way things were going, it would probably be Andy
standing over ME.

Mom left, the car pulled away, and suddenly we had the house to ourselves.
Not a bad situation since I was almost sure the mutual exploration we'd
stumbled onto last night was about to continue.  Andy didn't let me down.

"So, you wanna play with each others' wieners again?" he asked casually,
like he was asking me if I wanted to play catch.

Again, the guilt reared up. He was my little brother, for Christ's sake.  I
knew I really, really shouldn't be encouraging this stuff, or letting it go
any further...let alone enjoying it the way I was.

He could sense my hesitation.  Twelve isn't too young for miraculous
insight.

"I don't know why you're so worried about this, Mikey."

I'm sure I heard a faint note of anger and frustration in his voice.  I knew
he wanted it to continue, and he couldn't see what my problem was.

"I don't know, Andy" I sighed.  "You're my brother...you're only
twelve...you're..."

"Gay like you," he finished. "And old enough to like it."

I stared at him, impressed.  At least he was more honest with himself than I
was at that age.

"Besides," he added, putting his arms up, exasperated, "there's nothing good
on TV."

He said it with such a complete look of logic and sincerity, I burst out
laughing.

"What..." he said, with a mock hurt face.  "Did I say something funny?"

"You're always saying something funny," I grinned.  "Come here."

"Ooooh...seducing me," he said, trying to be funny and sexy all at once.
"Now we're getting somewhere."

"You know," I said sensibly, "we really shouldn't be doing this stuff."

He rolled his eyes at me.  "You are SO weird."

I smiled and nodded my head yes.  "You don't know the half of it."

"Look, Mikey," he said, duplicating my serious tone.  It was funny to watch
him trying to be so logical about things. "The way I see it...I got a
weenie, you got a weenie, we might as well use 'em once in a while."

I laughed again and relaxed almost instantly.

"Besides," he added with a cute wink. "I know you want to do stuff as much
as I do."

He didn't know the half of that, either.  Or maybe he did.  He nodded down
at my jeans, which not surprisingly, were already starting to tent out a
little.

"All right," I smiled.  "But you gotta know...I feel like the biggest
pervert in the world, doing stuff with a kid who still calls his penis a
weenie."

"Would you rather have me call it a cock?"  He looked at me and licked his
lips seductively, goofing off. "Oh, baby.  Come on over here and let me lick
your big hot cock."  He giggled at his own words.

"You are so hopeless," I sighed.

"Besides," he said, "a rose by any other name is still a rose."

He winked at me and licked his lips again.  He was definitely making me
hard, being so cute and flirtatious.

"Where'd you learn about the roses, Squirt."

"English class.  They do teach us bigger words than 'weenie', you know."

He looked at me so smartly, I had to teach him a lesson.  I ran for him and
tackled him onto the floor, tickling him, feeling him squirm as he tried to
get away.

"Stop!" he cried, laughing and panting.  "I...can't...breathe!"

I was laughing too, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.  Just
enjoying the joy and movement and animation that made him so special...so
beautiful to me.

I had him pinned down, my knees straddling his waist, my hands holding his
wrists against the floor, high above his head.

"Kiss me," he said softly.  And we both stopped laughing.

He looked up at me with those sweet blue eyes full of love and confidence,
and I knew right then he'd let me do anything.  I could see the trust as he
leaned his head up toward mine.  He knew I'd never hurt him.  He knew how
much I needed him.

I leaned down and kissed his lips.  He opened his mouth and let me in.  He
pulled my tongue deeper inside , making soft sucking motions, which made my
dick rock hard in an instant.  He tasted sweet.  Like candy.  Like Pop
Tarts.

"I really do want to blow you," he said, coming up for air.  "I wasn't
kidding when I said that in front of Mom."

"I can't believe you did that," I grinned.

"Ack, she's an old lady," he said.  "She doesn't know guys do that to each
other."

We kissed a little more.

"Here," I said, unpinning his arms, "let me show you what to do."

I rolled us onto our sides, and took his hand in mine.  He kissed me more
deeply.  I guided his hand to my jeans.  He fumbled with my fly and released
my straining cock.  I did the same to him.  He moaned when I touched him,
his sweet little dick jumping and jerking as I stroked it.

Our pants were off in seconds...fumbling, clumsy, almost funny.  Then our
underwear came off too.  We kicked them off each other's legs, still
kissing, still tasting each others' wet mouths, our legs intertwined, our
hands exploring each other's bodies.  He was so soft.  So smooth.  So warm.

I pulled him against me in a tight embrace.  I could feel his small, hard
cock pressed up against my stomach.  I reached behind and kneaded his butt.
He pressed into my stomach harder, more urgently, as I squeezed the small,
warm globes.  I let my finger trace the inside of his crack.  I stopped
lightly against his tiny, hot opening, applying a little pressure, but not
pushing into him.  He liked that.  He moaned again and pushed back against
me.

"Let me suck you," he whispered, rolling me over on my back.

He kissed his way down my neck, my nipples, my chest, my stomach.  He
stopped at my pubic hair, breathing in deeply, enjoying the sweat mixed with
the faint lingering soap smell from my morning shower.  "Mmmmm," he said,
breathing it in.

Hunched over me, I looked at his own small penis.  Not small, really.
Smaller than mine of course, but impressive for a 12 year old.  He was
completely hard.  Completely hairless.  He was about four inches long, with
not a trace of hair yet.  I imagined licking that hairless area above his
groin...tasting the faint sweat...enjoying that intoxicating, faint boy
smell.  I needed him.  Desperately.  I wanted to taste him too, but that
would come later.  For now, I let him continue kissing my pubic hair,
letting him explore me first in his own way, at his own pace, any way he
wanted.

He reached the head of my cock and licked it with his tongue.  He continued
the licking for several minutes, very softly and very teasingly, like it was
a lollipop. He wrapped his small hand around the shaft and held it as he
continued to take small licks, as if he was still unsure of what to do.  I
let him know what I wanted.

"Put your mouth around it," I urged him.  "Suck on it, and move your mouth
up and down."

"Like this?" he whispered.

His hot, small mouth enveloped my thick, red head.  He did exactly what I
asked, and I groaned lustily as he took me deeper and deeper into his
throat.

I began to push up, bucking forward slightly, pressing myself deeper into
him.

He took my hands and placed them on the back of his head, giving me
permission to guide his head down even further.

He gagged slightly.  I stopped and released him.

"No, it's okay," he smiled.  "I just didn't know it was this big."

He went back to work, once again guiding my hands to his hair.  I think he
liked that part.  As I pistoned in and out of his mouth, I ran my fingers
through his hair, pulling lightly, pushing his head down on me with soft,
forceful thrusts that made him moan softly, deep in his throat.

He cupped my balls with a small, exploring hand.  Then licking his middle
finger, he pushed the thin digit up against my hole, the way I'd done to
him.  Only, Andy didn't stop at the opening.  He pushed firmly, until his
finger slid inside of me.

"Oh, God.." I moaned.  "That's it.  Do that..."

He sucked me deeply, pushing his finger in and out of my eager hole.  My
hips bucked against him, my hands still on his head, pushing him down on me.

"I'm going to cum, Andy," I whispered hoarsely.  "I should pull out...I
should..."

He reached out and put his free hand over my mouth to stop my objections.

I continued to thrust into him, watching his small head bob up and down on
my aching prick.  I felt the familiar eruption beginning to happen -- I
watched the light sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck as I pushed myself
forcefully into his throat.

I grabbed his hair and held him down as I erupted into his mouth.

"Aaaaarrrghhh... God..."

I felt thick streams of cum jet out into his throat.  He gulped and moaned,
trying not to cough as my thick, hot fluid shot into him, in wave after
wave.

He pulled his finger from my hole and looked up and smiled at me.

"Well, now, that was interesting," he said, matter-of-factly.  "I always
wondered what that stuff tasted like."

He licked the top of his lip.  There was a trace of cum there.  He rolled it
around on his tongue and smacked his lips together, acting funny again.

"So...what's it taste like?" I asked, bringing his head up to snuggle into
my chest.

"Like bleach," he grimaced.  "Hot and gooey."

I stroked his hair.

"Bet you'll never ask for that again," I grinned.

"Are you kidding?" he said enthusiastically.  "Bring on the next course!"

I laughed and let my fingers run across his neck.

"I think you're the next course, little brother," I whispered.

I felt him stiffen against my leg.

"I love you, Mikey," he said, stroking my chest.

I rolled him on his back and kissed his sweaty neck.  He tasted so good.  So
sweet.

"I love you, too, Andy," I answered, working my way down his soft, young
body.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into the moment with a sweet, full moan.  He
arched his back to me, pushing my head rapidly toward his cock.

In a moment, I'd be discovering a whole new way of loving Andy.

____________________________________________________________

END OF PART 2
to be continued....