Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2000 23:51:37 -0400 (EDT)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Chugging Merlot" (b/b, oral, anal)

CHUGGING MERLOT (b/b, oral, anal)(gay, young friends)
by Lemmaire

Once upon a time, there was this really hot boy in my class named Cole
Jordan.  He was 12 when this happened, and so was I.  My name is Robby
Jacobs.  I sat right behind him because Jacobs and Jordan are next to each
other in the alphabet.  Thank God for "J's," otherwise I'd probably be
doing it with a "K" or an "L."  All the "K's" are assholes and our only
"L" is a geek.

It was just a matter of time before I found somebody who would do it with
me.  I started jacking off a couple of years ago, and I knew what I wanted
right from the start.  No girls for me.  Whenever I jacked off, I'd think
of the boys in my class.  They weren't so impossible to talk to.  Girls
sort of make me freeze up.  Guys are different.  They make more sense.

Cole and I got to know each other really well during 7th grade.  He was
really cute.  He had dark brown hair, and the greenest, most shiny eyes
I've ever seen.  I'm blond, and my eyes are this light, pale blue that's
almost gray.  My mom says I have poet's eyes.  I'm not really sure what
she means.  I've never met a poet before.  Their eyes could be red and
purple for all I know.  Who checks?

One night, I asked him to come over to my house and spend the night.  He
wasn't surprised or anything.  We'd been talking all year, and screwing
around in class and stuff, so it's not like we were strangers or anything.
I was just upgrading us into official friends.  And if something else
happened, hey...that wouldn't be so bad either.

I mean, we'd already talked about sex stuff at school.  All the guys did.
"Do you get the feeling yet?"  "Did you see Denny's pubes in the shower?"
Stuff like that.  The normal comparisons.

But I didn't know if Cole liked guys.  I mean, how can you tell, right?
He was fun enough when he was hanging around with me.  Sometimes he'd even
laugh and touch my shoulder, or give my arm a little squeeze or something.
When he did, it sent shivers all the way down my back.  I don't know if he
suspected how many times I jacked off thinking about him at night --
imagining the light, soft hairs at the bottom of his neck -- dreaming
about licking them -- smelling his hair -- running my tongue along the
white, soft skin right underneath his collar.  I sat behind him in school.
His dick didn't even enter my mind yet.  That was too far in front of me.
All my fantasies were based on the back of his neck.

Well, okay.  Maybe I thought about his dick a little.  I'd seen it in the
shower in gym.  It was a nice one, but how can you tell when it's all limp
and covered with water?  I sort of half wished I could dry it off for him
and see what it did under regular circumstances.

So, with that thought in mind, I told Cole to come over for the weekend.
I was ready to find out if he had the same thoughts about me.  I sure
hoped so.

When he got to my house, I had a big surprise for him.

"Oh, man," he said, breaking into a huge grin, "where did you get that?"

We both sat in my bedroom with the door closed.  We were cross-legged on
the floor, looking at the bottle of wine I ripped off from my parents' bar
downstairs.

"Domaine De Montpezat Merlot," I read officially, butchering the French,
but holding it up and smiling proudly anyway.  "1997 -- an excellent
year."

Cole shrugged.  "Hell, I don't care if it is ancient.  I'm drinking it."

He grabbed the bottle and started peeling the foil off the top.  I handed
him the corkscrew I'd sneaked out of the downstairs kitchen drawer.

"My mom's got tons of this crap," I told him.  "She'll never miss it."

With surprising skill, he finished ripping the foil from the top of the
bottle, twisted in the corkscrew and popped off the top.  I watched, awed.
He was full of surprises.

"You got any glasses," he asked, looking around at my empty floor like
they might magically materialize.

I rolled my eyes.

"What?  You think this is a date, or something?  Be real."

He laughed a little.  I only said it as a joke, but secretly, I was hoping
it WAS a date.  I wouldn't mind seeing more of Cole than the back of his
neck and his waterlogged nuts.  If the wine helped get things moving, I
was all for it, dates or not.

What he said next really surprised me.

"Let me drink enough of this stuff, and who knows.  You might get lucky
tonight."

So he was interested!  Amen!  Now it was just a question of the right
set-up.

I laughed and blushed and grabbed the bottle.  I took the first chug and
tried hard not to make a face when I swallowed it.  It was bitter.  Gross.
Not at all what I expected.  The only other wine I'd ever had was some
really sweet stuff at my aunt's second wedding.  I figured red meant
sweet.  This wasn't sweet at all.  It tasted sour.  Like Sweet Tarts with
the sugar left out.

He pulled the bottle away from my hands and took a big chug, too.

"Let's go online," he said, nodding toward my computer.  "Maybe there's
somebody fun out there tonight."

I knew what he meant right away.  When two guys are drinking and thinking
about their dicks, no maps are required.  You just sort of know.

I nodded and we fired up my computer, passing the bottle back and forth.

We wound up in some lame chat room with a bunch of kids talking to each
other, swearing and spelling all their words wrong.  I think it must be a
chat room requirement, not knowing how to spell "cool."  I've seen enough
"kewls" to last a lifetime.

"Hey," he said.  "You wanna go somewhere weird?"

"What?" I asked, trying to play innocent, already secretly thrilled,
hoping the computer session would be leading toward something sexy.  I was
almost sure it would.  I could tell by his nervous glances and the energy
in the room.  12-years-old, and already the radar was in full working
order.

"There's a whole bunch of rooms just for gay guys," he said in a hushed
voice, almost embarrassed, trying to judge my reaction.  "They're really
gross, but they're hilarious.  These old guys hit on you all the time and
wanna know what kind of underwear you're wearing and stuff."

"Get out of here," I laughed.  "No way!"

Little did he know that I'd already spent a lot of jacking nights in those
chat rooms myself.  Hell, I might have even bumped into him without
knowing it.

One time, I even stuck my finger in my butt and took a picture of it so
some guy I was chatting with could look at it.  He kept telling me how
sweet I was, and how he wanted me to lick my finger after I took it out of
my ass.  Yeah, right.  I'm not that gay yet.

"Come on," he prodded, taking another big hit out of the bottle and urging
me into the chat rooms I'd already been in so many times before.  "It'll
be funny."

"Whatever," I shrugged.  "You're the guest."

It wasn't too long before we were in the middle of some weird room with a
bunch of "30-something" gay dudes.  They were all hanging out, comparing
cock sizes and all the usual stuff.  Somebody did one of those sex/age
checks...and the minute we typed "M/12," we got about five different
instant-messages.  That's the way it usually goes.  People out there sure
like their meat young.

One old guy was really getting into it.  He told us he had his pants off
and he wanted us to take ours off, too...and start sucking each other so
we could tell him how it felt.

We were both getting really horny by that time.  So when the guy online
said it, we were both staring at each other with these dumb, nervous
grins, trying to judge how far the other one of us was willing to go.
Hell, I was ready.  I would have gone to Jupiter and back by that point.

So, when the guy suggested it, it didn't sound like a bad idea to me.
But, hell.  If Cole was gonna suck my dick, I sure as hell didn't want to
take time off to type the play-by-play for some weirdo in Kansas.

"You wanna?" I grinned, shutting off the monitor.

We continued to chug the wine -- by this time, the bottle was almost gone.
We were buzzed as hell.  There was no way we were going to get all shy and
proper with each other now.

"You first," Cole dared.

"Fine," I said.  "No big deal."

I lifted my shirt over my head, unzipped my jeans, and lowered my pants to
the floor.  I stepped out of them and stood there in nothing but my white
briefs.  I was already hard...my four-inches jutting out, tent-style, in
the front of my undies.  When you're 12, too much alcohol doesn't make you
limp.  It just makes you fearless.

"Dude.  Your dick's already hard," he grinned.  "Expecting company?"

"Yeah, like yours isn't?" I nodded, pointing at his own erection, which
was already clearly visible through his jeans.

He quickly unzipped, got down to his underwear and took his shirt off like
I did.

The computer was forgotten as we stood there in my room, staring at each
other, hard and horny in our white Fruit of the Looms.  Mr. 30-Something
with his pants off would have to find some other entertainment for the
evening.  We were too busy with our own.

"So, now what? he asked innocently, like he didn't know.  He was staring
at my crotch and I was staring at his.  "We gonna look at each other all
night, or should we do something?"

"Hey, I'll do whatever you want," I offered generously.  I wasn't about to
get shy now.

He paused for a second and pulled his underwear down.  I gasped as his
dick sprang out in front of me.  It was four-inches...the same as
mine...maybe a little thicker...perfectly cut...smooth and light like his
skin, with a pink head and a thin brown ring around the stalk.

"Suck it," he whispered.  "You know you want to."

I couldn't argue with him there.  I took one more chug out of the wine
bottle for bravery, then lowered myself to my knees, just inches in front
of his pink, bulging, tip.  I inhaled deeply, just enjoying the sight, the
smell and the closeness of his cock.  It twitched involuntarily and I knew
he was ready for whatever I wanted to do to it.

"Come on," he urged.  "Suck it.  Please?"

I flicked out my tongue and touched the head.  It tasted good.  Salty.
Like sweat, but not strong.  Like the taste you get when you lick your own
arm.  Just light salt...nothing bad.

I licked it a few more times and his body tensed.

"That feels good," he giggled.  "Gimme some more wine."

I handed him the bottle and he chugged the rest of it.  He tossed it on
the floor.  A few stray drops splashed out on the carpet.  It didn't
matter.  The carpet was blue.  No one would ever notice.

I opened my mouth and took his tip inside.

"Mmmmm," he moaned, grabbing the back of my head.  "That's good.  Go
deeper."

I relaxed my throat and moved my mouth down along the length of him.  I
wasn't sure I was doing it right, but I didn't hear any complaints, so I
took that as a good sign.  His hand clenched my hair into a fist, and even
that felt good.  Good, in a hurting sort of way.  He pulled my head
forward forcefully, and I could feel him pressing against the back of me.
I gagged a little, which made him giggle.

"Let's lay down," he said, motioning toward the bed.

I nodded.

On the way over, I pulled my own underwear down and let my dick spring
free.  He touched it -- wrapped his hand around it -- and gave it a little
squeeze before we laid down, head to toe, in a 69 position.

We knew just what to do.  Months in the chat rooms studying had paid off,
after all.  We got really busy, really fast.

This was too good to be true.  My head was already swimming from the wine.
When his lips wrapped around my dick, the rest of me started swimming,
too.

We laid there for what seemed like hours, sucking, gobbling,
grunting...pushing our cocks into each others' throats -- pumping our
hips, getting so close to cumming we had to stop a few times and rest.

Then he started putting his finger in my butt.

"Hey!" I yelled.  "Ow!"

"Sorry," he grinned.  "Let me get it wet first.

He brought his finger to his lips and spit on it.  Then he started
pressing it into me again, and this time, it felt a whole lot better.
Before I knew it, he had it all the way into my ass, pushing it in and
out, twisting it slowly, making me feel, really, really, great.

"You wanna fuck me in the butt?" I asked him, figuring it couldn't hurt
any worse than his finger.

"Oh yeah," he said eagerly.  "Definitely."

I got up on the bed and positioned myself on my hands and knees.  I felt
him crawl up behind me, and I grabbed my pillow and buried my face inside
of it, in case it hurt.

I felt dizzy from the wine.  I almost lost my balance and started to fall,
but he caught me by putting his arms around my stomach.

"You ready?" he said.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I told him.

I felt him spit on my butthole.  It sort of tickled as the spit ran down
across my leg.

He coated his dick...got it good and slippery, and stuck it up against the
entrance of my hole.

"Slow!" I told him.  I was ready for it, but not that ready.

He pushed forward, a half-inch at a time.  When the head went in, I
thought I was gonna scream.  It felt like somebody jabbed a stick in my
guts. But he held it there for a second, and before too long, the pain had
passed and it just felt really good again.  Really good and full...not
uncomfortable at all.

"Okay," I told him.  "I think I'm ready."

He plowed forward in one swift stroke and the shock of his penetration
made me gasp and clench my pillow.

"Wow!" I told him.  "That's really big."

I heard him giggle, and he started pumping.

Oh my God.  I've never felt anything like it.  He started pumping himself
in and out of my butthole, stopping only to pull out and spit on himself
again so it would slide back and forth easier.  I spit on my own hand and
started jacking my own cock while he pumped himself into me.

"Ohhhh," he moaned.  "This is so hot and tight."

"Go harder," I urged him.  "Really push it into me."

He grabbed onto my hips and started pulling me back against him with each
thrust.

"Ugh...ugh..." I moaned, in time, as he pumped his dick up my ass.

"I'm gonna cum," he whispered.  His breath was coming in jagged gasps.

"Not yet," I begged him.  "I'm almost there."

He slowed his pumping...made it really deep and long, while I jacked
myself furiously, trying to catch up with him.

"Oh -- Oh --" I gasped.  "Now!  Do it now."

He punched forward with all his might and rammed his dick into me as far
as it would go.  I heard him cry out and felt his body shake as he started
cumming.

I came at the same time -- a few young drops shooting out of my dick and
filling my body with the most incredible tingles.

He leaned over and collapsed on top of me, kissing my back, and licking
the sweat from my shoulder blades.

"You are so tight," he moaned...his dick still twitching deep inside of
me. "We have GOT to do that again sometime."

"Anytime you want," I told him, closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling
of his weight and his heat.

We laid there for five minutes, his dick growing soft inside my butt --
the wine still swimming in my head.  When he finally pulled out, we fell
asleep, side by side, and didn't wake up until the middle of the night,
when we went at it again...this time, him fucking me while I laid on my
side, pressing back against his thrusting hips.  It was so cool.  Or kewl.
Or however you wanna spell it.

That started a whole new part of our friendship, and as the years went by,
I let Cole fuck me whenever and wherever he wanted.  In the boys bathroom
at school.  In the locker room after gym class.  I even let him fuck me on
his living room couch once, with his mom in the kitchen, cooking dinner.
The faster, the better.  The more dangerous, the more we liked it.

And after that first time, we never needed the Merlot again.

It was a great ice-breaker...but hell, that stuff tastes awful.  You might
like it, but as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't taste nearly as good as
my best friend Cole.  He's filling.  And intoxicating.  And WAY sweeter
than wine.
_________________________________________________

END