Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2017 21:54:51 -0700
From: Timmy Elliot <east.meets.west.te@gmail.com>
Subject: "East meets West" -- part 3 (gay/young-friends and gay/interracial)

The following story is a psychological work involving a consentual gay
sexual relationship that evolves between a 12 year old American and a
14 year old Chinese boy.  The work is entirely fictional, so any
similarity of names, characters, or events is entirely accidental.
Incidental mentions of superheroes are registereted trademarks of
Marvel and DC.

If you are offended by any aspect of this genre, please stop reading
now!

I would absolutely love comments, criticisms, and story suggestions
from anyone who reads this work!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Time and time again, Timmy felt like he needed to chicken out.  It was
odd enough that Elliot was coming over again, but if he showed up
before his parents had left.  It could very easily be a disaster!
Would Elliot just blurt out that they were going to draw superheroes
together?!  Battling superheroes?!

Timmy resolved to call Elliot and wave off the meeting, but then
realized he had no clue what his friend's number was.  He didn't know
his last name, didn't even know his real first name or where he lived.
Elliot must have looked up his parents' number by knowing his address.

One way or another, it was going to happen.

                               -----

At last the moment arrived.  Sure enough, Timmy's parents hadn't
gotten out the door on their overnight trip by the time Elliot arrived
and rang the doorbell.  His dad answered the door before he could get
downstairs.

"Ni hao ma, Elliot.  So you're here to study with our Timmy?  Isn't
that wonderful.  Please, come in."

Elliot had just stepped into the entry hall when Timmy got downstairs.
Their eyes locked, but Elliot's expression was serene and in control.
Timmy's heart fluttered just to see Elliot's handsome face and intense
brown eyes again.  Unlike his usual black pants-white shirt school
attire, this time Elliot wore Li Ning running shoes, red sweat pants,
and a black t-shirt.

Before Timmy could rescue Elliot and bring him to his upstairs
bedroom, Timmy's mother swooped in with a plate of healthy snacks that
she set down on the dining room table.  Elliot took the bait and set
his backpack down on the table, pulling out a mathbook, taking a
carrot from the tray, and thanking Timmy's mother politely.

To his great horror, Timmy noticed that along with the mathbook, a
folded-over piece of drawing paper spilled out onto the table.  He
knew it was his drawing of Admiral China!  Eventually Elliot noticed
it too and calmly, discretely stuffed the drawing back in his satchel.
Timmy thanked his lucky stars that Elliot had folded the drawing up
the last time he left.  Just as he sat down at the dining room table
next to his Chinese friend, his parents finally announced they were
heading out.

"Remember, no sleepover," Timmy's dad called out as he closed the
front door behind him.  The car started and pulled away.  The dining
room, the whole house, were finally silent.

Neither boy moved.  Neither boy said anything.

"What do you want me to draw?" Timmy finally asked after an unbearable
silence.

"I want you to draw the two of them," Elliot answered, his voice heavy
with anticipation.

Timmy started by drawing the form of Admiral China.  If the prominent
muscles left any doubt of the identity, it was erased as Timmy drew
the star's of China's flag stretched across his pecs.

"Good," Elliot complimented.  "Where's the other?" he asked,
encouraging Timmy to move along before the drawing got bogged down in
shading and nuance.

Now was the critical moment.  How would Timmy draw Captain America?
How would be draw his hero... his country's hero?  After a moment of
contemplation, Timmy pushed away the first drawing and started fresh.
It wasn't long before the familiar figure of Captain America started
taking shape on the left side of the page.  His legs were bent in a
crouch, his left arm and shield raised defensively, and his face
looking skyward.

"Oh wow," Elliot murmured.  He could already tell what was in Timmy's
imagination.  With the star on Captain America's chest and stripes on
his abs finished, Timmy went back to drawing Admiral China's figure on
the right side of the page.  After only a few strokes were put down,
it was obvious Admiral China dwarfed Captain America.

"Oh my god."  Elliot hadn't said anything; it was Timmy's voice.

"Why did you make such a big difference?" Elliot asked, as Timmy
continued to fill out Admiral China's hyper muscular shape.  Elliot's
voice was devoid of emotion, and Timmy couldn't tell what he wanted to
hear.

"Why?" Elliot asked again.

Timmy's heart started to race as he prepared the words.

"Because China is bigger," he said, in a voice laden with guilt.  It
just seemed like something he shouldn't say, even though his dad has
told him it was true.

"Mmm..." Elliot answered, apparently in approval.

"Because China is the stronger country now," Timmy continued, the
guilty tone giving way to a desperate one.  To hear himself saying it
out loud made him feel truth of it even more viscerally than when his
dad had surprised him with the idea the night before.  Instead of
recoiling from that helpless feeling, now something made Timmy want to
embrace it.  A weak feeling welled up inside of him, but it felt
better to give into it than fight against it.

"Because China is dwarfing USA!  So Admiral China should too!" he
said, raising his voice.

"You're right," Elliot responded in a calm voice.  If hearing himself
say things out loud made him feel weak, then hearing Elliot agree with
him allowed him accept it as absolute truth, and the helpless feeling
gave way to a feeling of utter defeat.  He felt his boycock scratching
against his tight underpants as it started to stiffen.

"We're weaklings," Timmy said in a mewling voice.

"Draw it," Elliot moaned.

Timmy pushed the finished drawing away and began work on yet another
sheet of paper.  Elliot hovered by his side, his deep brown eyes
watching every stroke intently.  In no time at all, the new picture
showed Admiral China clutching Captain America by the neck with one
hand, easily lifting him into the air as Captain America clawed with
both hands at Admiral China's wrist.  Captain America's legs were in
wild gyration, his boots apparently a full foot off the ground even
though the two heroes were eye to eye.  His shield lay on the ground.
Every muscle on his body stood out in struggle, and yet they were
dwarfed by Admiral China's bulges and ripples.  By now Timmy's boy
cock was fully hard and pointing straight up against his body inside
his pants.

Both boys silently admired the picture for a moment.  With no cues
coming from the older Chinese boy, Timmy grabbed a fresh sheet of
paper -- this time drawing something HE wanted to see.  It started
with Captain America's torso, facing forward, in the background.  Then
Admiral China's seen from the back, in the foreground, with his hand
still closed around Captain America's neck.  Then Timmy's pencil
started to fill in the details of cracks and fissures radiating out
from some kind of a crater around Captain America's body.  The moment
it became obvious that the scene was showing Admiral China driving
Captain America into a concrete wall, Elliot let out a moan, and his
right hand moved from the top of the dining room table down to his
pants.

Between pencil strokes, Timmy looked askance and saw that Elliot was
rubbing a large tent in his sweats.  It was a relief to know that even
if he couldn't explain what was happening to him, it was happening to
Elliot too.  It was OK.

Timmy went back to another drawing.  In this scene, Admiral China had
released his grip, and Captain America had crumpled to the ground like
a sack of potatoes, leaving behind a body shaped crater in the wall
above him.  Timmy drew Captain face down on the ground at Admiral
China's feet with rubble all around him.  His shield lay beside him,
one of Admiral China's boots triumphantly on top of it.

"Admiral China finished him off in no time!" Timmy said, now wanting
to be cruel to his erstwhile hero.  His free hand involuntarily darted
under the table to knead and massage his boycock through his pants.

Without warning, Elliot's hand moved to the front of Timmy's pants,
and pushing the younger boy's slender hand out of the way, took over
kneading and rubbing it.  Timmy froze.  Even as inexperienced as he
was, Timmy knew with a certainty that this was NOT something two boys
should be doing together.  With Timmy motionless in shock, Elliot's
hand was free to push its way inside the waistband of Timmy's pants,
now squeezing and stroking the outline of Timmy's small boycock with
nothing except the fabric of his underpants in between.

"Elliot," Timmy whimpered plaintively.

"Ssshhh, it's ok," Elliot cooed, and at the same time his words
soothed Timmy's fears, his hand pulled out and then pushed back in
with his fingers now probing inside the waistband of Timmy's
underpants.  In no time, Timmy felt Elliot's warm, slightly rough
fingers closing around the small, rigid shaft of his cock.

"Oh god," Timmy yelped as he pressed himself back against the chair,
as if shrinking from Elliot's touch.  He'd never felt anything except
his own fingers touch that part of his body, and then only as he was
cleaning himself in the shower.  It felt so wrong but it felt so good!

As Elliot's hand rubbed Timmy's cock, Timmy became aware of a slick
wetness slipping and sliding between the skin of their two bodies.  It
could mean only one thing.

"I think I'm peeing!" Timmy called out in crippling embarassment.  How
could this be happening right now?  At least he could warn Elliot.

"No, it's something else.  It happens when we get hard," Elliot
explained patiently.  And indeed, the older Chinese boy didn't seem to
mind the wetness.  Several times he tugged his fingers down the length
of Timmy's shaft, which squeezed more of the liquid out and into the
waiting palm, which then smeared it up and down the length of Timmy's
boycock.

"Let me touch yours," Timmy begged impulsively.  Elliot said nothing,
but stood up in front of Timmy, whose eyes bugged out as he got a
clear look at the size and shape of the tent pushing out Elliot's red
sweatpants.  Timmy thought he could discern the roundness of the shaft
inside, but no... it couldn't be... it seemed impossibly big!  Timmy
craned his neck to look up into the older Chinese boy's deep brown
eyes, seeking permission to go further.

"No, take off your clothes first," Elliot answered the unspoken
question by making a demand first.  In a flash, Timmy pulled off his
Captain America t-shirt and dropped it on the floor.  He shivered
slightly as he saw and FELT Elliot's gaze sweeping over the skin of
his chest.  Timmy's skin was pale and totally smooth, with not a hint
of flab but also not a hint of muscle either.  He was still too young
for either.  It thrilled Timmy to feel vulnerable, to be unable to
stop himself being looked at.  When he saw that Elliot's breathing was
racing and the tent in his briefs seemed to have pushed even further
out, Timmy knew he wanted to take all of his clothes off.  He wanted
Elliot looking all over him.  He wanted to follow Elliot's order.  He
wanted to be naked and defenseless.

Timmy stood up and bruskly pulled his pants down his legs and stepped
out of them, and then with hardly a hesitation, pushed his underpants
down to the floor too.  Now he was naked as the day he was born.
Timmy traced Elliot's gaze and it went right to his boy cock, which
was only 2 3/4" long and only an inch wide, so stiff that it stood up
vertically almost touching his belly.

Now Elliot nodded and smiled.  He'd just given permission.  As his own
cock pulsed and bobbed along with his racing heartbeat, Timmy reached
out and tugged Elliot's red sweatpants down.  The fabric of Elliot's
briefs was even thinner, and did little to hide the shape of what was
inside.  The outline that had seemed impossibly big through Elliot's
red sweatpants was now visible in sharp relief through the tight white
fabric.  It still seemed impossibly big.

Elliot nodded again.

Timmy yanked down the briefs, and Elliot's Chinese cock sprang forth,
swinging from side to side after it broke free.  Compared to his own
boycock, Elliot's manhood seemed threateningly big.  At 5 1/2" long it
was fully twice the length of Timmy's, and it was comparitively so
much thicker that it almost seemed to Timmy like Elliot's cock was
swolen!  It was a dark tan, and the shaft was laced with veins in a
way that made it seem almost... muscular.  And it still seemed to be
stiffening; Timmy could see that the shaft bobbed up and down with
each of Elliot's heartbeats, but after each bob it was standing up
straighter, longer, and thicker.  Curiously, the purple head of
Elliot's penis was only partially sticking out of a collar of tan skin
that seemed to be stretched very taught around the head.  Timmy's cock
didn't have that.

"Maybe Chinese are born with different penises?" Timmy wondered to
himself.  Once his curiosity had broached that subject, the next
thought pushed its way into his head.  "Maybe Chinese penises grow
bigger than ours?"  The answer, pulsing and growing right in front of
his face, certainly seemed to be yes.  Timmy had never really wondered
what size his boy cock ought to be, but suddenly he felt small.  Tiny.
Miniscule.

"Oh god," Timmy wailed, "You're bigger!  Admiral China is bigger.
Everything ..."

Timmy's words were cut off by the return of that numbing, tingling
feeling building up at the root of his cock.  All his muscles started
to tense, as if he was preparing to fight against something.  It felt
like whatever was about to happen would be something he'd be
embarassed to have happen while totally naked in front of Elliot, but
he knew it couldn't be stopped now.

Elliot was more experienced, and knew just what was happening to his
friend.  He quickly grabbed Timmy's small American cock between his
thumb and forefinger and started to massage the shaft.  Thanks to
Elliot's attention, the feeling that been like a dam filling was now
turning into the feeling of a dam bursting.

"Elliot, I can't stop it!" Timmy cried out, not even sure what he was
trying to stop.  His toes and legs and back curled up as a feeling
like pain gripped him all over.  Except it wasn't pain, because it
didn't make him hurt.  It was like jumping into an ice cold swimming
pool, except it didn't make him shiver.  It was like having to scratch
an itch and finally scratching it, except the feeling was everywhere
inside his body.

"Something's coming," Timmy yelled out.  His innards lurched as if he
was falling off a cliff, and a kind of bonelessness took over, making
his knees buckle.  He stumbled forward into Elliot, who steadied him,
and grasped their two cocks together in his hand and kept stroking
them together.  The smooth, rigid shaft of Elliot's thick, heavy cock
was pressed tight against Timmy's little boy cock, like a thumb
pressed a little toe.

"Ah, I can't... I can't take it!" Timmy shrieked as the feeling
gripping his body climaxed.  Looking down at his cock crushed against
Elliot's, he felt his penis spasm and saw a string of something clear
and thick spurt out of the tip.  It shot up into the air high enough
to land on the head of Elliot's cock.  Timmy's cock kept spasming, but
nothing else came out after the first spurt.

The feeling of pure, defeated, guilty, boneless, painless
itch-scratching pleasure was at its peak, and Timmy cried
"Unggggggggg!!!!" like an animal too primitive to use words.  It was
like riding a skyrocketing elevator that came to a stop only moments
before smashing into the top floor.  Then the elevator stopped just
below the ceiling, then slowly started sinking back to the ground.
The release of so much tension made Timmy feel helpless, but the pure
pleasure of it told him that it was GOOD to be helpless.  As his
muscles relaxed, he felt like he'd fought against something and been
beaten, but the defeat had been a REWARD, not a punishment.  He
started to whimper.

Sensing that Timmy was past his climax, Elliot slowly lowered the
American boy to the floor, and knelt over him with his thigs
straddling Timmy's trembling legs.  Timmy's cock still spasmed, and
faint wisps of orgasm still throbbed in him, causing him to try to
buck his hips up off the ground to meet the feeling, but Elliot's
weight kept him pinned flat.

The rational thoughts Timmy had been trying to have as he was hurtling
toward his climax had been trapped for a time and frozen in mid
sentence, as if they were smashed flat against the seatback of an
accelerating car.  Now that the climax had passed, the thoughts
tumbled forward again.  He picked up where he left off when the orgasm
hit, with the benefit that his thoughts were clearer and truer now
than ever before.

"Everything Chinese is bigger," Timmy said out loud in a gauzy
whisper.  "Now I know how Captain America felt like when he fell at
Admiral China's feet!"  Elliot broke into a smile.

It all made sense.  He was small.  Elliot was big.  Americans were
small.  Chinese were big.  USA was tiny.  China was massive.  Why had
the idea even shocked him before?  It felt so good for it to be true.
He needed it to be even more true!  He knew Elliot would show him the
way.

(Definitely to be continued, as soon as possible!  Thank you for
reading!)