Date: Mon, 6 Mar 2000 19:49:57 -0500 (EST)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Loving Andy More" (1/4) (t/b, inc, anal)

LOVING ANDY MORE (1/4) (t/b, inc, anal)
by Lemmaire

My name is Michael John Donne.  Like the poet...only, luckily for the sake
of story flow, I'm not dead like he is.

I'm 16 years old.  The real John Donne died when he was 59.  So, I figure
I've got at least 43 years to go if my poetic license holds out. Or maybe
sooner, if my mom finds out what I've been doing with my little brother
Andy.

Andy is perfect...an angel child...12-years-old....his long, smooth,
boyish legs just barely showing that first wisp of light hair...his
stomach tight and firm, the muscles only hinting at the manly promise that
lies ahead.

But for now, he is all boy...pure and sweet.

My boy.  My brother.  The one I make love with.

I've written to you about Andy before -- how we became more than just
brothers -- how we became lovers one late night when he came to my
basement bedroom, dressed in nothing but underwear and an oversized
t-shirt.  How massages turned to touches.  How touches became passion.
And how our passion became, puzzlingly, amazingly, love.

I didn't intend for this story to continue, although it certainly did, and
certainly does, here in our real life.

But so many of you wrote to me and shared your own stories -- your own
nostalgic yearnings and wishes.  You touched my soul with your own gentle
memories.  You asked me to tell you more.  My heart agrees.  There's more
to tell.

Memory is a magical thing, but hope is even more important.  You had such
hope when you wrote to me.

So, if fate never brought you an angel like Andy...let me share mine.
____________________________________________________

"I love you, Mikey," he whispered, sighing contentedly as I wrapped my
arms around him and we slept together that night in my small, single bed.
"You're so good to me."

His voice was soft and slurred with dreams.

"I hope when I grow up, I'm just like you."

Just like me.

I wasn't sure what that meant.  Good? Bad? Right? Wrong?

It continues to puzzle me, even now.

But then?

I smiled and held him closer.  Crickets chirped and the night dreamed on.

I kissed the back of his neck.  Such a dream, this beautiful child.

"I love you, Squirt," I whispered to him softly.  "I hope you never grow
up."

He melted into my arms like warm, sweet candy.  We slept.  We loved.  And
we didn't wake up for hours.
___________________________________________________

Morning sun was knocking on the curtains.

By the time I opened my eyes, Andy was already out of bed, naked and
happy, going through my CD's, making faces, tossing the bad ones aside.

"Ugh," he muttered, looking through some of the titles.  "How can you
listen to some of this crap?"

I smiled and stretched.  Enjoyed the warm bed feeling.

"Good morning to you, too," I drolled.  "Nice of you to put the coffee
on."

He looked at me like I was mentally handicapped.

"Coffee?" he grimaced.  "I am SO sure."

He went back to destroying my neatly filed music library, while I rolled
over and studied his small, beautiful body.

There ought to be songs written about boys as beautiful as Andy.

Symphonies.  Arias.  Orchestras should play him.

Without looking up, he grinned at the silence.

"You're scoping out my ass, arncha?" he giggled.  "Wonderin' when I'm
gonna give you another piece of my heavenly banquet."

I rolled my eyes and threw a pillow at him, staring at the mess he was
making of my CD collection.

"I'd settle for alphabetical order," I grinned.  "Ass can come later."

"Now this is interesting," he said, looking up to me, explaining it
clinically.  "Last night after you did it up my lovely, virgin chamber..."

I laughed.  What a way to start the morning.

He seemed uninterested in my chuckle and went on with his report.

"After you did it up my lovely, virgin chamber," he repeated seriously,
"my first though was...holy cow...I gotta take a major poop here.  I
thought for sure you knocked a couple of intestines loose or something."

I nodded.  Seemed to make sense.

"But then I got tired," he added.  "And then it went away."

I nodded again.  Might as well let him go with it.  No sense interrupting.

"But this morning, when I woke up," he pointed out strongly, like Sherlock
Holmes making a deduction, "I thought I was going to shit all over the
bed.  Woo!  Talk about cramps...I could have died.  What the hell's
jumping around in your sperm, anyway?"

"Sea monkeys," I answered seriously.  "Like the ones in the comic books."

"Well, whatever," he continued, unimpressed, "I had such bad cramps, I
thought your sheets were history, for sure.  I just barely made it to the
bathroom before all hell broke loose."

I peeked under the sheets.  Clean as a whistle, thank God.

"I appreciate that," I replied, not quite sure how the washer worked.

"So, anyhoo," he went on, still thumbing through my music, "I sat down
expecting my kidneys to come blowing out of my ass or something...it sure
sounded like it..."

"And..." I urged him.

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging.  "No kidneys.  No blood. Just a bunch of
air and a big wad of your vile, evil STUFF.  Yuck!"

I grinned and admired his naked legs.  I was already hard.  Morning pee
erection.  The sight of his sweet, naked body wasn't making it any softer.

"Well," I shrugged, sitting up in bed.  "It had to go somewhere, right?"

He grinned.

"The stuff wasn't really too bad," he said, weighing the memory.  "Just a
glob of white, and bloop, that was it.  It was just...all that
AIR!...Kaboom!  Jesus, Mikey, you pumped me like one of those air
depressers."

"Compressors," I corrected him.  Not that there was any point in it.

"Whatever," he said, standing up and stretching.  "Next time, I'm doing
YOU."

I had a feeling "next time" wasn't too far away.

I was right.
___________________________________________________

We showered together...Andy giggling sweetly as I soaped up his back and
let my hands wander down to his smooth, shapely cheeks.  As he rinsed, I
pried them apart slightly, and nestled my dick into his crack...not
intending to enter him...just enough to give him the general idea.

"Pervert," he grinned, stepping out of the shower and toweling off.  "Give
a guy an inch and he takes your ass."

I turned off the water and reached for a towel.

"True," I winked innocently.  "Once you go crack, you'll never go back."

We both thought that was hilarious.  We laughed, and dried, and headed
upstairs for breakfast.
___________________________________________________

Our parents were gone.  I was "babysitting," I remembered with a short
pang of guilt.

I was, after all, the older brother, entrusted by Mommy and Daddy to take
good care of their little angel while they were out of town.

If only they knew.

I shuddered at the thought.  They'd send me away.  Kill me on the spot.

"Me want pancakes!" Andy stomped, trying to impress me with his artificial
temper.

"Settle down," I moaned, searching the cupboard for anything with "Aunt
Jemima" or "Instant" showing on the box.  "I'm new at this whole
child-care thing."

"Yeah, right," he grinned.  "That's why my ass feels like somebody drove a
truck inside of it."

I shrugged.

"You've got me there, Squirt.  Guilty as charged."

I made him pancakes.  He smiled with syrup on his lips. I leaned forward
and kissed it off.  Licked it, kissed it, made us both hard.

We finished breakfast and went back down to my bedroom.
____________________________________________________

"Now, how do I do this?"

He looked at me intently -- a student ready for instruction.  We were both
naked again...our clothes tossed off in random piles on my bedroom floor.

After a few pleasurable minutes of kissing and touching...breathless
sixty-nining...firm handfuls of flesh groped and prodded between our eager
hands...Andy had informed me it was time....he was going to fuck me like
I'd fucked him last night.

Only, "do it" he said.

"I'm going to do it to you now."

So, helping him as much as I could, I assumed the natural position...hands
and knees, poised on the bed...hoping to hell it wouldn't hurt too
much...although at four-inches, I wasn't sure it would feel much different
than my own finger...which I'd experienced before, many, many, pleasing
times.

"I don't have to lick you, do I?"

His voice was innocent.  The question was sincere.

"Of course not," I grinned.  "That's for professionals."

I heard him sigh in relief.

I'd licked him the night before -- tasting the sweet, grape jelly I'd
smeared on his asshole.

Apparently, he wasn't eager to return the favor.

Some things take time.

"Just line yourself up and push it in," I offered, trying to scoot down a
little to aim myself up with his thin, young cock head.

"Hard or slow?" he asked, all business.

What an angel.  12-years-old.  Hormones raging.  Erection poised.  And
still, a perfect gentleman.

"Slow," I grinned.  "Push it in slow, with lots of spit.  Then when it's
in, you can start pumping."

"Gotcha, Chief," he said seriously.  "Here we go."

I heard him spit. Lube up. Generously, thank God.

But before he entered me, he stopped for a second.

"Ewww," he said.  "That's kind of icky."

"What?" I said quickly, hoping my ass wasn't dirty or something.

His answer was much more simple.  Boyish and pure, like him.

"Do you realize you have little hairs on your butthole?" he asked,
awestruck.

I laughed.  Was that all?

"Yeah," I said, wishing he'd get on with it.  My own dick was hard now,
dripping pre-cum...eager for his penetration.  Hairs weren't exactly my
major concern at the moment.

"Wow," he whispered, taking in my 16-year-old forest.  He whistled through
his teeth, to punctuate the seriousness of the moment.  "I am definitely
NOT going to enjoy this whole puberty thing."

I almost laughed, but the sharp pierce of his entrance took my breath
away.

"Hey!" I grimaced. "Slow down a little!"

"Sorry!" he said quickly, pulling out.  "Too hard?"

"A little," I said, clenching my ass at the unexpected pain.  "Try to go a
little slower when you put it in."

"Roger, Captain," he giggled.  And he pushed forward again.

This time, he did it with more finesse...a little more restraint and a lot
more skill.

My body shuddered with the firmness of his entry.  The control I didn't
expect.  The sweet violation that filled me physically...but mentally,
too.  I had never felt this before.  And it felt good.  Strong.  I was
being taken, at the hands of an angel.  All I could do was close my eyes
and surrender to his unexpected strength.

"Oh my God," he said...pure surprise as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
"Mikey...do you know how hot it feels in one of these?"

I tried not to laugh.  I certainly did know how good it felt. It felt
amazing.

"Pretty good, huh?"

"Oh man."

That's all he said.

He stuck it in me and held it there for a second -- the same way I'd done
when I'd entered him the night before.  He was scanning his
memory...parroting my own performance on top.  He was such a sweetheart.
He didn't want to do it wrong.

My hole was on fire.  My soul was dancing in front of my eyes.  It felt so
full, having him in me.  So complete.  Like something I'd always needed,
and never known.

The burning, throbbing fullness was so intensely needed, I think I could
have cried.

"Is this...okay...?" he asked, in jagged, excited breaths, trying to
control himself, not having a clue what he was doing to me emotionally.
To Andy, it was only penis and butt right now. An urge to cum. A motion.
An instinct.

"It's fine," I said honestly, pushing back against him and reaching down
to stroke my own throbbing erection.  Stroke my cock.  Stroke my soul.  I
didn't know where the physical ended and the spiritual began.  It was so
good.  So full.

He pulled back and pushed forward.  Pulled back.  Pushed forward.  Stroked
himself slowly, in and out...my anus widening to take in his small, thin
cock.  Adjusting for him.  Opening for him.  Hungry for his fullness.
Wanting more.  But he was too small to cause any further pain.  It was
only pleasure.  Stars and stars of spiralling pleasure.

"Am I doing okay?" he grunted innocently, pushing and pulling with
childlike enthusiasm, still trying desperately to be my full-grown man.

"You're fine, Squirt.  Just fine.  Go as hard as you want."

Permission granted, he bucked into me forcefully.  My soul opened up and
screamed at the beauty.

"Oh God, Oh God," he whispered repeatedly, taking me hard...plowing into
me the only way he knew how...wildly, blindly, knowing nothing but desire.

"So hot, Mikey...so hot...." he gasped.

I stroked my cock and opened my insides to the pleasure of his small,
intruding pushes.  It was very much like my finger...solid,
demanding...full of activity.  But it was also different
somehow...pulsing...eager...unpredictable and intense.

And Andy fucked me...bucking his tight, random urges against my open,
willing asshole.  I moaned.  I whispered to him.  I urged him.

"Fuck me, Andy."

It wasn't what I thought it would be.  I thought it would be delicate.
Childlike. But it wasn't.

I felt myself moaning, giving in to the hard, grunting pleasure, stroking
my cock more furiously now, bringing myself to a sudden, unexpected climax
-- erupting -- exploding -- as he drove himself forward, spearing my
prostate, filling me with color, sending speckled stars dancing in front
of my eyes.

"Ahhhhrgggh..." he grunted, grabbing my back and piercing me as far as his
hard, little manhood would allow.  I felt his hot, young dick twitching
inside of me.  I couldn't feel his semen, but I knew it was there...sweet,
hot angel drops, adding themselves to the open wetness of my bowels.

He beat his small fists on the back of my ass -- not knowing, not caring
-- just pumping, driving -- completing his first act of uncontrollable
lust.

"Mikey," he whispered, still inside of me.  "So tight...so warm."

He was shaking.  Shuddering.  Breathing in ragged, long gasps.

My own cum shot out of my cock and onto the bedsheet below.  It pooled
into globs.  I was amazed at how much there was.  I fell down on it, Andy
still inside of me.

We laid that way for at least five minutes, until he softened and slipped
out of me.

"Wow," he whispered, rolling over and falling to my side.  "That was
awesome, Mikey."

An understatement, as I struggled to speak.

"Not bad," I gasped.  "You really got into that, didn't you, Squirt."

His face beamed pride.

"I'm a pro," he smiled, kissing my cheek.  "Just wait until next time."

"Oh, no," I warned.  "You're next, kiddo."

I patted his ass to make my intentions clear.

We breathed heavily.  Took in air.  Recovered.

"Whatever," he said casually, flipping over to his back and closing his
eyes.  "I'm versatile."

I laughed and kissed his smooth chest.

We fell asleep, dozing for an hour, the echo of his boyhood still burning
inside of me.

It had been so good -- so complete.  I didn't know what was better --
fucking, or being fucked.  I knew I needed them both.

And when we woke up...?

It only got better.
___________________________________________________

END OF PART 1
TO BE CONTINUED