Date: Fri, 27 Aug 2004 12:44:17 -0500 From: H. Rick Cantwell <zestful@myexcel.com> Subject: Rascal Part Three Rascal Part three Atmosphere and Ambiance (M/M, Oral, Anal, Incest) This is a continuing story. Constructive criticism is welcome, at zestful@myexcel.com. Mention the title in the Subject line or I might delete it by accident, thinking it's spam. Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters in this story might not practice safe sex, so you should not imitate their behavior. Save a life--your own--by practicing safe sex. If you're not old enough to read stories involving graphic descriptions of sex between consenting males, or if such stories are illegal where you live, do not continue reading beyond this sentence. Rascal Part three Atmosphere and Ambiance Thunder woke me about five in the morning. The lightning almost blinded me before another clap of thunder nearly deafened me. I looked over to see Ryan stirring awake, too. "It's just thunder, Rascal, you've still got some time to sleep before school." "Umm, okay," Ryan said curling into me, throwing his right leg over my left thigh. He likes to sleep on the left side when viewed from the foot of the bed or what I'd call the right side. He inched his knee up until it "kissed" my scrotum. I felt his hard-on pressing against my hip. Even after seeing it as often as I have, I'm still amazed at just how big his cock is for a 14-year-old--I'd guess a good five and a half inches long and two inches across. Between the two sensations, the knee-to-scrotum and cock-to-hip contact, I started chubbing up. During a flash of lightning, I saw Ryan's hand snaking under the sheet on a collision course with my boner. Thunder rumbled shortly thereafter. "You're horny, too," Ryan said in a sleepyhead tone. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was half sexual and half a need to piss. "How could I not be, with a stud like you in bed with me?" "Do you really think I'm a stud?" Ryan asked in a serious tone. I'd never seen him this calm. He's usually so animated. "You're the biggest little stud I've ever seen." "I'm the only guy my age you've ever seen." He pressed his cock tighter against my hip. "True, but after seeing you, no one else your age can compare." "Honest?" Thunder followed lightning again. "Being a stud is more than just a big dick. It's how you treat others, how you dress, the way you stand, sit and walk, even how you talk." "I talk like a stud?" "No. That's what makes you so endearing. At some point, you'll have to lose your boyish charms and take on the attitude of a man but until then, just let us adore it." After another thunder roll, I said, "Storm's getting closer." "Us? Us, who?" "Me, your dad, and your uncle, I suppose." "I'm not a stud. Daddy's a stud ... and you, too." "Yeah, I imagine he is," I said, realizing Ryan had a crush on his dad. "He's got a great bod," Ryan said, squeezing pre-cum out of my cock and licking his fingers. "When can I come over again?" "When would you like?" "When's your next day off? We could spend it together ... I mean, if you want." "Well, today is my day off, but then it'll be Saturday." "Can I come over Saturday?" "I'll see." "Want me to blowjob you or do you want to fuck me?" "I'm not sure we should do anything before you go to school." "Why not?" "If I fill your ass with spunk, it'll be drizzling out all day. If you blow me, your lips will be bloated and adults will know what you've been doing." "Nuh uh." "Yeah, they will. Not everyone, of course, but those who know what to look for, will." "Like who?" "Counselors, school nurse, whoever." "I didn't know that." "So, I guess YOU'LL have to fuck ME if you don't want to walk around with a boner all day," I said with a smile. "Can I do it with you on your back?" "Yeah, why?" "I want to kiss you, too. It's more like makin' love instead of just sex. Is it okay for two guys to make love?" "I'm gonna guess I'll let you do it any way you want--within reason," I qualified my statement, remembering a discussion we'd had about Salome and Rumplestiltskin. Ryan crawled like a snake on top of me, squirmed down till his cock was under my balls and pushed. He moved my nuts so there was one on each side of my cock shaft and then laid against me. As he began to hump, his belly stroked my cock. Because of his height problem, I had to crane my neck a little to kiss him, but we made it work. During an especially deep thrust from his cock, thunder rumbled so forcefully, I felt the vibrations course through Ryan's dick. "I think that was right next door," Ryan said. "Bullshit!" I said, "It was right in my BACKdoor." Then I squeezed my asshole so he understood my meaning. "Yeah, I felt it, too." Ryan began pounding faster, like he was getting ready to nutt. "You wanna know what?" "What?" I smiled, never knowing where this question will lead. "This is the best way in the world to wake up." "I rather like it myself," I said as his cock knob struck my prostate just right. A large glob of pre-cum oozed out of my piss slit. "Does that mean I can come over Saturday?" "I'll already be awake by the time you get here." "Oh, yeah. Well, I could sleep over Friday night." "I don't think so. Let's not rush things." "Why not? Don't you want to cum yet?" Rascal asked, slowing down his piston action. "That's not what I meant. It's okay to fuck fast--this morning, anyway." Ryan started drilling me again, only this time, he was striking my butt nutt with each stroke. "What I meant was, your dad's got things to check out about me and I'm sure your mom's not ready to put you up for adoption just yet." "Yeah, I guess you're right. Uncle Dickey, I'm close. Are you close? I'm gonna cum." "Give me all you've got, son, give me all you've got." As Ryan started shooting, he raised up a little to grab my cock and jack me off. He tried aiming the spurts at his mouth but they all missed by a mile. I squirted all over my belly and chest. Ryan fell onto me and squirmed my jism all around. Then, he pulled out, got into the 69 position and started licking the cum off my belly. I licked it off his stomach, too, and after he sucked my deflating cock into his mouth for those last few drops, I sucked HIS cock to finish the cleanup project. His head flew off my cock like I'd farted in his face and he looked down to watch me. "That just came out of your ass, Uncle Dickey!" "Um humm." "Oh, man!" "Um humm." "That's so gross! Damn, I gotta try that!" "It's called ATM," I said. "ATM? I thought that was a money machine." "To the uninformed. But to us, it's Ass-To-Mouth." Ryan giggled. Putting my hand behind his neck, I pulled him to me and kissed him. "Now, get your ass in the shower and get ready for school." "I don't have any fresh clothes." "Do you have a dress code at school?" I asked. "No, but I think they want me to wear SOMEthing," he snickered. "Can you wear what you wore to work yesterday." "Yeah, but I already wore 'em once." "But you didn't wear them to school, so THEY don't know you've worn them before," I argued. "Hey, yeah, that's right! Good thinking, Uncle Dickey." "What? You think I never went to school when I was a kid?" I swatted his butt playfully and said, "Now get your ass ready for school." On his way to the bathroom, Ryan said, "My ass is ALWAYS ready for school, it's the rest of me that's not." "Git!" I said, hoping he didn't mean he was giving it away on the playground. "Aren't we gonna shower together?" he shouted at me. "No, from the looks of this storm, I better fix breakfast before the power goes out." As if on cue, lightning struck. "Is it safe?" "If you hurry." "So, I don't have time to jack-off?" Ryan yelled over the sound of the shower. "You just came," I yelled back. "So?" Ryan said as if my remark held no significance. I smiled. 'I used to be that virile,' I thought. 'I wonder when I started slowing down--a month ago, six months ago? Yeah, that's it! When I started working at the Emporium. I used to have sex six or seven times a day in prison. I'm lucky to have it six or seven times a month now--including my jack-off action.' The toast popped just as the electricity went out. "Hey! It's dark in here!" Ryan yelled. "Stay where you are," I yelled back. "I'll bring a candle." I fumbled in the junk drawer for a candle and a match. After lighting it, I cupped my hand around the flame and walked carefully into the bathroom. "Hold this for a minute," I said, seeing Ryan was stepping out of the shower. "I had to rinse but I'm not going back in there." "No, you're fine." I got a big, fat, scented candle out of the closet, set it in the sink and lit it. The mirrors amplified the illumination to the point it was almost as bright as the bulbs. Looking at Ryan, I saw he was shivering. I grabbed a towel, put the toilet seat down and sat. "Come here. I'll dry you off." As he stood closer so I could towel him off, Ryan said, "You're gonna get in trouble for putting the seat down, Uncle Dickey," remembering my admonition from when I gave him his first tour of the apartment. His voice was quivering either from the chill of air against his body or from fear because of the suddenness of the blackout. I rubbed briskly, hoping to warm him up in case he was cold. When I saw his skin turning pink, I'd move to a new area. "If you dry my dick that rough, I won't have any cock left," Ryan said. "I'd have to rub for a week before you ever saw any size difference." "Wanna try?" Ryan asked eagerly. "Let's go eat. Looks like all you're gonna get is dry toast." "Sperm is full of protein." "No!" I said sternly. "Party pooper," Ryan said sullenly but with a smile. After our candlelit breakfast, I got Ryan dressed and down to the car. I remembered I had a flashlight in the toolbox in the guest bathroom closet, so we were able to navigate the hall. Of course, Ryan pushed the elevator button out of habit, as I opened the door to the stairwell. He gave me directions to his school as we drove through hazardous intersections without working traffic lights. The sun was up but it might just as well have been night because of the cloud cover. As I drove into an upscale neighborhood named for the developer, Ryan's phone rang. "It's me," Ryan said. "Hi, Mom ... All right! ... Okay." Turning to me, he said, "It's for you." I pulled over to the curb and stopped. "Amanda?" "Hi, Dick. The school just called. There's a power outage. The electrical system is fried, so they're canceling classes. Can you, uh ..." "Lyle called last night. He said I could take Ryan to your place after school. Shall I take him there now, instead? I don't have electricity, either. I don't know if you do or not." Looking out the car window, I couldn't see any houses with lights on. "We've got a generator ... for the silent alarm, you know." "It would probably be best if we went there, then. Traffic through town is getting really treacherous." "It's fine with me. I'll call his babysitter ..." "Don't bother. It's my day off. I can stay with him ... if that's okay with you." "It's fine, really! But can you take another whole day of him?" "Well, he might need to be bound and gagged but I think I can manage." "Damn, I wish I'd thought of that!" Amanda chuckled. "Don't worry about Ryan, he'll be fine." "I know he will. I'll call Lyle and tell him, so don't have Ryan call him." "Understood." "Goodbye ... and thanks." I heard the disconnect tone before I could say goodbye. "So, how do we get to your place?" "Is it true, you're gonna stay with me?" "Yep." "All day?" "Unless you piss me off." "I won't, I promise." With directions from Ryan, I was able to navigate the swirls and curls of the roads in his sub development. I don't think there was one straight street. All the way to Ryan's house, I wondered how fire trucks maneuvered the twists and turns. When we arrived at his house, Ryan crawled onto my lap and leaned out the window to punch in the security gate code. "Daddy will give you a code later," Ryan said as I drove up the crescent-moon drive to the house. "We each have one--a different one-- so the computer can keep track of whose on the premises and who's not. Not OUR computer, the FBI's--same way with the code to the house. They have to match. If I was being forced to let someone in, I'd put in a fake number. We could still get in but they'd know there's an intruder with me." "I hope you don't tell that to everyone," I said. Ryan got a thoughtful look on his face before he said, "Nope, just you. In fact, I don't think Uncle Marty even knows about it." "But you're willing to tell me. That's not a smart move." "Why not? You're not gonna hurt me." "That's not the point. Someone who knows I know you might kidnap me, give me sodium pentathol ..." "The truth serum," Ryan said knowledgeably. "... and I'd end up telling them all about it." "I never thought about that." "I thought you wrote espionage scenarios. How come you never thought of sodium pentathol?" I asked as we climbed the twelve or so steps to the front portico. "I have, but not like that. If we work together, we could write the best novel ever." Looking back at my car I asked, "The cops won't call the FBI if they see my car, will they?" "Only if I put in the fake code," Ryan said unlocking the door and punching the code. "Don't even think it," I warned. Then, I asked, "They won't think it's funny to see a junker in the driveway?" "No, most everyone who visits has a beater car--family, I mean, not Daddy's friends, of course." "Well, that certainly makes me feel better." "Close the door and I'll set the alarm." "Why?" "That tells the FBI I'm alone." "But you're not." "I mean, without the Rents in the house. They know I occasionally have a friend over." "And they're okay with that?" "Yeah. I mean, I'm a kid. They gotta cut me some slack." "Do they know you're ..." I put a finger to my ear and then waved it around the room. "No, it's not bugged. I think Dad's secretary--it's a guy--knows I'm gay but I don't think anyone else does. Not that he's ashamed of me. He says it's none of their business. He told me once, that if I get kidnapped and held for ransom or if they want him to give them information in exchange for me, I'm on my own." "That's kinda harsh." "Homosexuals are prime targets for terrorists 'cuz gays don't want to be found out, but since Daddy knows, they won't have as much leverage so I'm not as much at risk." "That's good to know. Tell your father to let me know if you ever get kidnapped and I'll come after the sons of bitches. They won't be expecting me or a few of the people I know." "Gee, it's kinda nice to know someone whose been on the 'inside.' That's what you're talking about, aren't you?" "Yeah, them. They might be ex-cons but they're still the best at what they do." "Just like you." "Whaddya mean?" "You're the best cocksucker around. Wanna suck my dick? Com'on, we can do it on Daddy's bed." "No, I believe you have a paper to write for school." "About what?" "Going to work with me yesterday." "Oh, yeah." "Duh! Now get to it." "Com'on, I'll show you my room." After stripping naked, Ryan typed his report on the computer. In the meantime--fully clothed--I looked around his room. He had a BackStreet Boys poster. Over that, at an angle, was an N'Sync poster so you could see most of the guys in both bands. Then off to one side was a Ricky Martin poster. Photos of cute boys, cut out of magazines, created a montage over the background of Ricky's. In his bookcase, I saw coffee table editions of pictorials featuring the erotica of Pompeii and Herculaneum. There was an early edition of the Masters and Johnson report next to the Kinsey report. There were several books depicting ancient nudes in paintings and sculpture, along with a book of modern male nudes in black and white photos. All the while, the storm raged outside. Looking over his shoulder at me, Ryan asked, "Can we fuck when I get this report done?" "You need to find someone your own age to fuck with. You're gonna wear me out." "Maybe I should find a dozen guys your age and rotate them, so I don't wear 'em out." "A dozen would only last you two days." Knowing he can cum more often than I can anymore, I said, "Swing around." He swiveled his chair and I saw the reason for his question. His erection was dripping pre-cum. Like I say, there wasn't much of it but it was magnetic in its appeal--delicious 14-year-old boy pre-cum. I got on my knees and swallowed him to the pubes. The taste of him was one of freshness and innocence--even though he wasn't so innocent. His body warmth was the just lighted kindling of a campfire, not the blazing heat of a bon fire. His crotch odor was the bouquet from a glass of wine, yet his pre-cum was the fermenting grape--not the full-bodied finished product. His skin was the softly rippling waters of a mountain brook, not the crashing waves of an ocean. I loved the feel of him in my throat. "Oh, god! You do that so well," Ryan said. "If you could do that before every class, maybe I wouldn't be so bored." 'That could be why guys' grades suffer in high school,' I thought. 'By college, they're old enough and mature enough to get sex whenever they want it. But kids HIS age are all wrapped up in not letting anyone know they're maturing. To THEM, it's like a curse and the townspeople are gonna come after 'em with pitchforks and torches.' As Ryan clamped his thighs around my arms, pinning them to my body, I knew he was about to shoot. I kept up my assault until I was rewarded with the sweetest tasting baby batter I'd ever savored. It was freshly made. Because he'd cum not more than four hours earlier, it was like it hadn't had time to get stale. I licked his cock clean, patted his balls appreciatively and said, "Thanks." Ryan's eye got big and round. "Nobody's ever thanked me before. How come you just did?" "Usually, you're forcing it on me. This time, I decided to TAKE it without permission and since you didn't object, I said 'Thanks.'" "You're weird." "Get back to that report. You're only half done. Besides, I'm gonna have to read it before you hand it in." "Why?" "To make sure you don't get the company--or any of its employees --in trouble." "I wouldn't do that. It was the best school day I ever had." "That's what I'm afraid of. If you tell 'em at school what made it the best, we'd all go to jail." "You're just silly. I'd never tell 'em about Jason or the S&D. But I'm gonna tell 'em all about you." "Like I say, that's why I need to read it." "You can look over the rest of the house if you want. There's nothing top secret here." "No, that's okay." "Seriously, go ahead, look around. In fact, there's popcorn in the kitchen. You could toss a bag in the microwave." "You sure?" I asked. The dry toast didn't stay with me very long and I knew with Ryan's metabolism, he was probably famished. "Yep," Ryan said as he kept typing. Then he said, "Dad's porno stash is in the bottom left dresser drawer under some T-shirts he doesn't wear any more." "That's okay, I'll just go to the kitchen." "It's all straight stuff anyway. Not hardly any cocks at all," he said as I was leaving. I went downstairs, through a living room the size of my entire apartment, and a dining room barely half that size and then into a massive kitchen. There were pots and pans hanging from a rack suspended from the ceiling and more counter space than the prison kitchen--almost. The refrigerator had a glass front so you could find what you were looking for before you opened the door. There were two ovens, one above and one below the counter and more cabinets than you'd care to count. I began looking through them for the popcorn. They were well organized but had more dinnerware and glassware than any one family could use. I finally found the popcorn over the stove, right where I would have put it. I tossed it in the microwave, pressed the "popcorn" button then the "start" button. While it popped, I thought, 'I wonder if Amanda keeps it up there, out of Ryan's reach, so he won't get into it.' Then, 'When did I stop worrying about what's best for me and start wondering if what I'm doing is right for Rascal? Hummm.' Coming back through the dining room, I noticed the table could seat ten and probably more. I figured Lyle had to "entertain" a lot of dignitaries. On the living room wall, where every one in the dining room could view it, was a Picasso. I stepped closer to see if it was a copy or an original. I don't know why I bothered. I don't think I could tell one from the other. About ten feet from the bedroom door, I thought, 'He might have gotten me out of the room so he could get on-line and chat.' I stopped to listen. Ryan was still typing, so I crept stealthily to the door to look in--over his shoulder. He was working on his report. Pretending to breeze in, I said, "Take a break to eat this. I don't want you to get the keyboard greasy." "All done," Ryan said as he typed the final period. "Want to read it?" "Sure." Actually, I wanted to check out the taskbar to see what other applications he had open. Ryan stood up and I sat down. His taskbar was clean. I pressed CTRL HOME to get to the top of the document and started reading. Into the second paragraph, I felt a piece of popcorn against my lips. I opened up and Ryan slipped it in. He kept feeding me like that while I read his report. All in all, the report was well written, well organized and interesting. I saw a few "chat room" misspellings like 'u' for 'you' and 'c' for 'see.' There were also several misspelled usages of words like 'witch' for 'which' and 'herd' for 'heard.' "Do your folks go over your homework before you hand it in?" "Sometimes." "Are you allowed to use chat room spellings in your school work?" "Uh, oh. I forgot. But this is just the rough draft. This was just to get my thoughts organized. Then, I always go back and change 'em." "Yeah, sure you do." Ryan filled his little hand with popcorn and tried to push it, all at once, into my mouth. Then putting the near-empty bag down, he said, "I'm thirsty." He knelt next to me and swiveled the chair toward him. "What are you doing?" "I'm thirsty. I need to wash this down with a load of spunk." I stood up. "I'll get you some water. No dessert until this report is finished." "Awh, Uncle Dickey, please," he pleaded. "Don't make me get the newspaper." "Okay," Ryan whined but hopped in the chair and began proof- reading his work. I figured his pouting was all an act anyway. "Is there a glass in the bathroom?" "Cup dispenser," he said like I hadn't distracted him in the least. I found the bathroom with no problem. There were side-by-side sinks on the right with the tub and shower on the opposite wall. Farther into the room was a walk-through in a waist-high ceramic tile privacy wall that enclosed the toilet. Beyond that was another door apparently connecting to the master bedroom. 'No wonder Ryan can spy on his folks so easily,' I thought. The wall of mirrors over the sinks made the bathroom look twice as big as it was, which was already huge. I walked through and used one knuckle to ease the door open slightly. It swung into the bedroom noiselessly. Through the hinge edge of the door, I could see Lyle's bed. 'From this angle, all you'd see was Lyle's butt,' I thought. Then my imagination kicked in, to play out a scenario where I could see Lyle's cock thrusting in and out of Amanda. 'I'm sure that's what Ryan looks at. His father's cock-- that piston of a cock I'm sure Lyle must possess--plunging in and out of Amanda.' Looking through the doorknob side of the opening, I saw the bedroom door directly across from the bed. The door would have to be almost fully open for Ryan to spy from that door. I left the bathroom through the hallway entrance, took a couple of steps down and peeked in the bedroom from the hall. I changed my mind. Along the common wall with the bathroom was a makeup table and vanity mirror. If the hall door was cracked open just slightly, Ryan could get a side-view reflection of his folks having sex. Stopping by the bathroom again, I filled two cups with water and took them back to Ryan's room. "All done," Ryan said, grabbing for my belt, like he had no idea how long I'd been gone. "I'll be the judge of that," I said sternly, but I let him drop my trousers and boxers while I removed my shirt. I twisted around to sit with the chair sideways to the computer. It was still warm against my bare butt from the oven that was his adolescent buns. "Can I blow you while you look it over again?" "Okay, but only till I get this read." "Well, as long as it takes you to cum, you better be a slow reader." His mouth was warm as he sucked my dick down his throat. I found one case of 'Your' when it should have been 'You're' but I figured the teachers needed to find some mistakes or they'd think he was cheating. His depiction of my virtues was flattering but, thankfully, not incriminating. He used such terms as 'civic-minded role model,' 'reliable mentor,' and 'trustworthy friend.' The words, as I read them felt as good for my soul as his mouth felt on my dick at the moment. I cupped his ears lightly in the palms of my hands, letting them ride along on his journey to suck yet another load of cum from my balls. 'I've had more sex in the last two days than I've had all month,' I thought. 'I know I should feel bad for having sex with an under aged guy but, hell, I was looking for sex at his age. I just never thought about doing it with older men. I suppose, if I had, I would have been out there seducing grownups, too. I don't suppose it would take much effort in a lot of cases. I'm living proof that, with a little flattery, a kid like Rascal can get anyone into bed.' "You feel so good, Ryan. You really like doing this, don't you?" "Umm humm." He cupped my nuts and rolled them around in my shrunken satchel, trying to coax the juice out of my handle. "You don't care if your cock gets serviced at all, as long as you can suck a dick, huh?" "Umm humm." "Of course, you like fuckin' a guy's ass, too, huh?" "Umm humm!" he moaned with emphasis, continuing his oral assault on my cock. For the first time, in a long time, my cock was so hard it felt brittle. One false move and it would snap in half. All because this little cocksucker loved doing what he was doing. It occurred to me that in all the years I'd been having sex, it was only a release of sexual tension. For Ryan, it was the one thing he enjoyed most in life. 'Some kids want to be Olympic skaters or swimmers or pro football jocks and all their dedication goes into achieving that goal. Not Ryan. His ambition was to become the world's best sexual partner--and his abilities are already way off the charts.' I felt the sperm cells collecting one by one, millions of them amassing at the base of my cock. The tingle of excitement just before blast-off ran up the right side of my body like a shiver. It traveled from my thigh, to the right side of my back, down my arm and up my neck at the same time, only to whisk past the back of my ear to crawl around my scalp looking for a place to explode. The only place left was up through my cum tube, out my piss slit and into the most adorable mouth I'd ever seen. "Oh, God, Ryan! How do you do that?" Of course, I meant make one man feel like he was the center of the universe but he mistook my question. "Practice." He jumped up, pointed his cock at my chest and shot all over me--without even stroking his dick. The kid had a million dollar talent and wasn't even aware of it. He got as excited from giving pleasure as he did from receiving it. 'Ah, the innocence of youth,' I thought. 'To be so talented and so humble at the same time.' "That was your best shot yet, Uncle Dickey. I think I'm a good influence on you." I chuckled "Yeah, that's what your school paper said." "Wanna get online for a while? I'll show you some of my favorite sites." "Sure. Why not?" I started to get up but he pushed on my thighs to hold me down. "I can sit in your lap." He turned and sat before I swiveled the chair around so he had easy access to the keyboard. His cum squished between us as he leaned his back against my chest. A few clicks later, we were surfing the net. "When you sent me downstairs for popcorn, I thought you wanted to get me out of the room so you could IM your friends from school." "That would have been a waste of time." "You don't have any buddies at school?" I asked, my heart breaking at the thought of him being so lonely. "No, I mean yeah, I do, but no, I couldn't IM them because they don't have electricity." "Oh, yeah," I said stupidly. "I like this site," Ryan said, "because it has stories and I like the stories--most of 'em, well, some of 'em. Some I just skip-read. Did you know I can get hard reading just as easily as I do looking at videos?" Somehow I didn't think Ryan would have a tough time getting a hard-on in a hospital operating room. Even so I said, "I thought all you computer sexers were into pics and mpegs." "Yeah, they're good for comparing things but the stories stimulate my mind better." "Compare things? Like cock size? I don't think you have anything to worry about." "Yeah, but I'm talkin' muscles and feet-to-hand ratios. Did you know there are guys who LOVE feet? I mean, like they really get turned on by a guy's feet. I saw this one series of pics where the guy cummed all over his foot and then licked it off. Have you ever done that?" "We can put it on our Things-To-Do list if you want to try it." "You're so cool, Uncle Dickey. I bet I could ask you to do most anything and you'd do it." "Let's just say there's not a whole lot I haven't done. Not always by choice but I survived." "Have you ever had someone piss on you? Look at this site, it's all about peeing. It's called 'water sports' ... but sometimes it's called 'golden shower.'" "Guilty." "Really! Was it as awesome as it looks?" "You've never tried it?" Ryan craned his neck to give me a disappointing look. I thought I'd insulted him. Then, he smiled. "I peed on myself once ... well, twice but it wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be. And besides, I was in the shower so it was kinda ..." "Diluted? Anticlimactic?" "Yeah." "So water sports don't go on our list then," I said more as a statement than a question. "No! I want to try it to see what all the excitement's about! It's like tickling yourself. It's just not the same when you do it yourself." "Oh, I see. You want ME to pee on YOU, like I'm some kind of pervert corrupting the youth of the world." "Yeah, kinda like that." Ryan giggled. He squirmed as my cock inched up his back at the thought! "So, start making your list so we don't forget anything." He opened a word document and typed in the first two items before going to another site. While he was doing that, I fondled his cock and balls--more as a comfort-like gesture than to arouse him. 'God knows he needs no help in that department.' "So you know a lot about these things but you've never done them?" "Uh huh." "Not even with Uncle Marty?" "Ungh uh. He sucked my dick the first time, just to show me what it was like." "That's all?" "Mostly. I sucked him a couple of times. That's how come I can take big dicks like yours all the way down, but I don't think he really likes me." My heart broke. "Why would you say that?" "I don't know. When I go over there, he never wants to do the things I want to do. He just wants to play with my dick--you know, suck it and that's it. He let's me suck HIM, but not as often as I'd like. Then, the next morning, he just wants to take me home as quick as possible." "None of that's your fault, Ryan," I said, putting my hand up to his chest and hugging him back against my chest to comfort him. "There's any number of reasons he acts that way." "Like what?" "Maybe he's uncomfortable being around young boys--except you-- like I am." "But you got used to me right away." "Maybe he's worried about the incest thing and your mom--his sister. There's a chance he might WANT to do other things with you but he's afraid to take it to the next level." "Why?" "It could be he's afraid of hurting you. Then, of course, there are some guys who just don't like training guys. They want 'em ... experienced." "How can he expect me to get experience if he isn't willing to teach me?" "You found me!" "Well, yeah but I just got lucky--I mean, when Daddy took me to the store with him that day." "What kind of guys does your uncle go for?" "Whaddya mean?" "Twinks? Bears? Muscular? Thin?" "Oh. Well ... uh, thin, I guess. I've only met a couple. Uncle Marty's built like Daddy, big boned, lotsa muscles." "So opposites attract." "But that would make me his type," Ryan whined. "Then, maybe it's one of the other explanations." I said, hoping to make him feel better--or at least less rejected. "Or ALL of them," Ryan said, disgusted. "Let's hope not! He'd be one fucked-up mess if he had all those hang-ups." "Maybe he is. Hey, have you seen this one?" Ryan asked opening the window to a bestiality site. "I've seen it pop up on a lot of different sites when I'm surfing. Does it interest you?" "No. I'm allergic to pets. Do you think she's really got that horse's dick in her mouth?" "I don't know. I've heard a lot about this sort of thing but I've never experienced it." "Would you want to? I could hold the leash, I guess," Ryan offered amiably. "Not really. What about you?" He didn't bother to add that to the list. As he showed me more sites, he got quiet. I got the impression he wanted to talk. "Something on your mind?" "Kinda," he said sullenly. "Anything you want to talk to me about?" "No, it's not anything fun." "We don't have to have fun ALL the time. Sometimes a little time spent on the not-so-fun things make the fun things all the more enjoyable later." "Like what?" I try to offer sage advice, expecting Ryan to just accept me at my word, like most adults would--without question. With Ryan, I was realizing I was going to, one day, dig myself into a hole I couldn't get out of. "I don't know. Like those videos last night for instance. It wasn't fun cataloguing them the first time and putting them in numerical order. But now that the boring part's done, if you mentioned an actor or a fetish you wanted to look at, I could find it just like that." I snapped my fingers. "Fetish?" "Remember the foot guy? He has a foot fetish. The piss guy has a golden shower fetish. It's something YOU enjoy that most people would think is weird." "Oh. Are girl's panties a fetish?" "They can be. Some guys like the feel of girl's silky clothes, like stockings and panties but they wear them without anyone else knowing about it. Other guys go all the way and dress up like girls." "Like the she/males." "Sorta, but there's usually a big difference. For some of them, it's a game. They want to see if they can fool their friends. And some are real good at it. Others do it for fun. They enter drag competitions and make money from tips. But then, they go to their day jobs dressed as men. Cross-dressers don't usually want to go all the way to become a woman, like we talked about." I moved my middle and index fingers in a scissors motion so he understood what I meant. "Is it, uh ... strange to ... uh ... be attracted to guys with big dicks?" "Most gay guys are, I suppose, so I'd have to say no. It's called being a size queen." "What about little ones?" "Little dicks?" "Yeah. I've got a friend. He's a year older than me and he's tiny. I mean like it hasn't started growing yet." "A friend of mine calls a friend of his 'Princess Tiny Meat.' In the case of YOUR friend, there's a chance it'll never grow, in which case, it's called micropenia. Of course, he might get a growth spurt and it'll become normal. When you've seen his dick, was it soft or hard?" "Soft." "That's the other part of the equation. Some guys have little dicks when they're soft but they're fine when they're hard. They're called 'growers,' not 'show-ers.' "But is it a fetish to like 'em small?" "Yeah, I suppose so. Personally, I'd just call it a preference." "He couldn't fuck anybody with it. At least, I don't think he could." "I'll bet he's discovered other things to do with it that makes him and his partner feel good." "I hope so. I like him and I wouldn't want him to be unhappy. You know, to go through life without having someone special." "Does he like guys or girls?" "I don't know. Why?" "Guys can be cruel and tease him. Girls don't get a chance to see that many guys naked, so he might find a girl willing to accept him for his size. But it really comes down to personality." "Yeah. He's got that! He's gonna run for class president and win!" "If he liked guys, would you object to having sex with him?" "No, I think his dick is kinda sexy. Hey, you wanna go downstairs? I'll show you where we're gonna put the new TV." I swung the chair around and he sprung out of my lap like that cartoon tiger bouncing on his tail. His heavy half-hard cock flopped down from the vertical along his belly, to almost horizontal with the floor. Looking back at MY erection he said, "I'll take care of that downstairs." I'm okay. I like the way it feels right now. Hopeful but not needy," I said. "Like having to wait, huh?" he said, referring to the time I made him hold off cumming to enhance his orgasm. I started to get dressed but he grabbed my hand. "Com'on. There's no one home. It'll be fun." Against my better judgment, I followed him down to the kitchen. "Should we fix some lunch?" I asked, suddenly aware of the time. "Yeah. I'm starved! You cummed a lot upstairs but, for me, that's just an appetizer. Want bologna and cheese? I know how to make that." "Sure." "You can sit at the table if you want." "I'd rather watch you." "Watch me what?" "Just watch you. Everything you do thrills me." He looked at me skeptically. 'I don't think he realizes how adorable he really is,' I thought. When he was done, he had created a masterpiece of whole-wheat toast, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise--not salad dressing--and a triple- decker meat and cheese. That's three pieces of bologna separated by three pieces of cheese--one American, one pepper jack and one Swiss. He cut them in half on the diagonal, put them on the plates with a dill pickle and some salt and vinegar chips and poured us some milk. Like I say, a masterpiece. After lunch, we proceeded through a door I hadn't noticed on my first trip to the kitchen. From the kitchen, I would have expected it to lead to the back yard. As we descended to another level, I discovered a long room that ran the length of the house. At one end was a large round table, flanked by a wall of shelves and cabinets stocked with toys and games. On the far end was a fieldstone fireplace with a ceramic tile apron the size of a small dance floor. "I want to put the TV down there," Ryan said, pointing toward a corner near the fireplace where there was no direct light from the window wall but was easily visible from the sofa. "Can you imagine the big dildo from last night on a screen that big. It would look like the guy was being fucked by an elephant, huh?" My asshole twitched at the thought. Continuing to look around, I saw that in the center of the vast room was a comfortable looking sofa and two chair ensemble that faced a window wall. Three doublewide, side-by-side patio sliders opened out onto the pool area. The storm must have quit while we were eating lunch because when I looked out at the pool, it was calm. "If you wanna go swimming," I said, "we can lay out by the pool for a while, then you can go in." "Can't," Ryan said. "Dad's the official lifeguard and I can't use the pool unless he's here." "I'm pretty sure he meant you couldn't use it when he's not here. I can be your lifeguard." "Nuh uh," Ryan said. "Only him. Not even Uncle Marty. Dad said that if anything ever happend, he'd never forgive him." "Whaddya mean?" "If I drowned, he'd know Uncle Marty wasn't at fault but he'd always blame him for it ... like there was something more he could have done. He said there would always be a doubt in the back of his mind as to whether Uncle Marty left me alone for a minute or something like that." "Oh, I see. But if your dad's here and you drowned, he'd know everything was done right to save you." "Uh huh." "Well, I guess that means we won't go swimming." "You can if you want. It's just that I can't." "Then I can't either," I said. "Why not?" "'Cuz, silly. If I started to drown, you wouldn't be able to jump in and save me. Hey, I'm not THAT crazy about swimming!" Ryan giggled at my reasoning. "So what DO you want to do?" "Let me show you my stuff," he said eagerly. "Uh, I think your stuff is hanging out all over the place," I said, staring at his cock. "Is that all you think about, cock?" "Nope. Sometimes I think about your cute little ass," I said swatting it playfully. "It's yours any time you want it," Ryan said, wiggling it back and forth as he bent over to pull some boxes out of a lower cabinet. As I watched Ryan pull out one thing after another, to proudly display the wealth he accumulated as a youngster, I was amazed at what a 14-year-old considered valuable. "Back when I was younger, I collected Pokemon Cards but now I just keep 'em around, uh ... 'cuz ... I can trade 'em for something more important to someone else, you know, some KID who's interested in 'em . Here's ..." For the next five minutes, Ryan named each of his 'favorite' Pokeman characters and the attributes of each. His exuberance was a dead giveaway that there was no way he'd ever trade them for ANYthing-- at least not yet. Eventually, even HE began to get bored with their importance and began showing me all the board games he had amassed over the years. Parcheesi, Chinese Checkers and Monopoly, were among them but, as he'd show them to me, he seemed to be more imrpressed with games that required knowledge and thinking, like Stratego, Risk and Scrabble. "Wanna play Scrabble?" "Sure. Why not." Ryan poured out the tiles and together, we flipped them all face down. We drew our tiles and then he said, "How about porno Scrabble." "Porno Scrabble?" "Yeah, you can only spell out porno words, anything having to do with sex." "Oh, of course, porno Scrabble. Does Milton know you've bastardized his game?" "Milton who?" I held up the box lid and said, "Milton Bradley." "Oh, him. No, but I've been thinking about suggesting it to him." So we began with Ryan putting down the first word. Naturally, it was F-U-C-K. "Hey, you wanna know what?" Ryan asked, about five minutes into the game. "What?" 'No' was never an option with Ryan because he'd tell you anyway. "It'd be a lot more fun if we acted out each word. I mean, you might have a word among your tiles but you wouldn't want to use it 'cuz it's ... too ... bizarre or something so you have to go with a word worth fewer points." "I can't think of ANY word you wouldn't use," I said rolling my eyes. "I know what! Whoever lays down the word ... uh ..." I could tell he was making this up as he went along--much like his entire life. "... the other player has to do it to them." "Huh?" "If you lay down R-I-M, I have to rim you." "Oh." "What if it's a word two guys can't do together?" "Like what?" "Cunnilingus." "It's got too many letters anyway. We'll worry about that when it comes up." "There's got to be a time limit." "Until Mom gets home." "No. A time limit for how long you're gonna rim me." "Until Mom gets home," Ryan said, giggling. "Game over." I said in an electronic android voice similar to those used in computer games. He knew I was reminding him--in a friendly way--that the adult was the one still in control. "Oh, okay, uh ... how about one minute." "The game will take forever." "So? It's enough time to make ya feel really good but not enough time to make ya cum. Oh! Unless you put down the word 'cum' and then ya gotta do it as long as it takes." "So, if I use 'cum,' I get to cum but you don't because the word's already been used." "Oh, yeah. But I could add 'I-N-G' and then you'd have to do something until I was cumming." "M-I-N-G," I said. "There's two 'M's in 'cumming.'" "Whatever!" "So what happens with words like butt, ass, cock, balls ... they're not actions we can perform." "Uh ... the other player has to play with them for one minute." "Okay," I said, "I guess this'll work." Ryan folded the board, dumped the few words we had already spelled out and we started over. We played porno Scrabble the rest of the afternoon until Ryan heard the sound of the garage door opening and said, "Mom's home!" "Jesus! We're naked and I'VE got a hardon!" I had just sucked Ryan until he came so he was soft. "That's okay, she's seen dicks before." "Not mine!" "She says if you've seen one you've seen 'em all." "Well, I don't feel like being all-inclusive. Get your ass upstairs and get dressed." "Don't panic," Ryan said as he started up the stairs to the kitchen, "She always opens the garage door before she opens the gate. We've got plenty of time." "MOVE!" I said. I enjoyed the quick glimpses of his butt hole with each step he took as I followed him up the stairs. 'One of these days, I'm gonna give in to the little rascal and fuck that sweet ass,' I thought. "Can I come over Saturday?" Ryan asked stopping at the foot of the stairs leading up to his bedroom. "I'll call you tomorrow night just before bedtime," I said. "If there's no on in bed with me when I call, you can come over Saturday. Now move! We're standing naked in front of the fuckin' front door!" "Eight o'clock?" Ryan asked, moving a step or two up. "That's pretty late, but yeah, eight PM is okay." "In the morning," he whined, stopping before turning to look at me for my reaction. Knowing he plays these little games with dad, and knowing he wasn't going to move until it was finished, I said, "Five PM." "Nine AM," Ryan countered. "Four." "Eleven." "Two." "Noon," Ryan said. "Okay, noon," I said as I tried to climb past him up the stairs to get my clothes before Amanda opened the door. To be continued. Thanks for coming back for more. Also, thanks to all those who emailed me with their comments. Comments can be sent to me at dickhickey@a2zestful.com or zestful@myexcel.com. If you liked this story, please consider checking out stories written by my friends at www.a2zestful.com. They are well written, edited for grammar and punctuation and include military, voyeuristic, adult/youth, and tales of the paranormal, to mention a few.