Date: Thu, 23 Mar 2017 20:09:30 -0700
From: Timmy Elliot <east.meets.west.te@gmail.com>
Subject: "East meets West" -- part 4 (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!  And please, if you enjoy being able
to read this, won't you consider donating to Nifty to keep this great
service available for all?

                                  -----

Elliot looked down at the small white boy who was still twitching and
bucking underneath him.  What had drawn Timmy to him in the first
place?  Why was he so willing to entertain the idea of a Chinese
superhero, and why did he gravitate so easily to the idea of making
that superhero so incredibly powerful?  Why was he suddenly talking
about the power of Chinese and China like this?

Elliot was in no mood to be philosophical, but he briefly wondered if
China's rise over the USA was making other white boys feel this way.
He had always assumed the kids at school looked down on him for being
foreign and different, and didn't try to get to know them, but what if
they all harbored these kinds of feelings beneath the surface?  Elliot
started to feel a little bit like he deserved the kind of admiration
he was getting from Timmy, and wondered if he could unlock it others.
Even if none of what was happening made sense, he liked the way it
made him feel.

Elliot could plainly see that the boy's sexual energy was spent,
because his cock had started to soften and get smaller.  Elliot's own
cock was still as big as ever, and on full display.  He slid his body
forward and sat down heavily on Timmy's slender legs, utterly pinning
the smaller American boy to the floor, with their two cocks mere
inches apart.

And then, as he had for the last two years since he discovered
masturbation, Elliot grasped his thick Chinese cock in his right hand,
and started to squeeze and then wag and then knead and then finally
stroke the shaft.  Timmy watched with wide eyes to find out how it was
done.  He scanned over all of Elliot's body, watching how each muscle
and sinew flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed, in syncopation with
the stroking.  In contrast to Timmy's smooth, flat chest, Elliot's
chest had the thin, faint, but taught and unmistakable curved outline
of pecs.  Whereas Timmy's stomach was flat and slender, Elliot's abs
showed faint ripples whose furrows grew shallower and then deeper with
each increasingly more excited breath.  Elliot's arm had the beginning
of a bicep bulge, and round muscles padded his shoulders.  Timmy drank
it all in.

But he was most fascinated by Elliot's cock.  His eyes always returned
there.  It was so big!  Not just long, but thick, too.  Timmy knew he
was younger and smaller, but what Elliot had seemed to be... a
different kind of organ altogether.  The head was shaped differently,
the collar of skin was something Timmy didn't even have, and the veins
that traced along its surface spoke of it's power and strength.  And
of course, the SIZE was different.  Chinese cocks were beautiful, he
decided.  He closed his eyes briefly to try to imagine what it must
feel like to be born with something like that between his own legs.

When he realized that could never happen, Timmy opened his eyes again
and decided to do the next best thing: he reached out to touch
Elliot's cock, to grab it.  Elliot could see Timmy's fascination, and
withdrew his own hand, thrusting his hips forward to offer his Chinese
manhood into Timmy's slender hands.  Timmy closed his fingers around
it and was floored by the feel.  It was absolutely solid, unbendable.
As he tugged it back and forth clumsily, he could feel the weight of
it.  And above all, it felt so much bigger than what he felt when he
touched his own hard cock.  His slender fingers barely closed around
the girth of the shaft.  He raised his other hand and found that both
of them together could rest side by side on it.

Elliot let Timmy explore and squeeze and tug for a time, but the young
American boy's motions were uncoordinated and sluggish, and not done
the right way to bring about the stimulation he needed.  Eventually
Elliot pushed Timmy's hand away and went back to work on himself, his
hands flying like lightning compared to Timmy's fumbling efforts.  In
no time at all, he'd brought himself to the edge.

Now it was Elliot's turn to have the wave of an orgasm crash over him.
Unlike the American boy who'd been taken by surprise, Elliot was no
stranger to the rewards of masturbation, and knew what was coming.  What
he wasn't ready for was the energy that was added by the addition
of another willing partner.

Elliot's eyes jammed shut and his body shredded up into taught muscle
as he let out a loud "Haahggggh!" that frightened Timmy.  To Timmy,
Elliot seemed to have hurt himself.  In the moans that followed,
Elliot started yelling something in Chinese with each breath.  And
then something happened that shocked Timmy.  As his eyes were fixated
on Elliot's thick tube of Chinese cock, he saw something erupt from
the tip.  Something thick and white.  The wad of ejecta flew through
the air and hit Timmy's forehead and hair.  The part that hit his skin
felt wet and warm -- almost hot.  Timmy was as shocked and revolted to
feel this goo from Elliot splatter on his skin.  Whatever it was
looked like the consistency of snot, and it came from the same part of
the body as pee does -- it felt worse than being spit on.  Timmy
cringed under the onslaught and instinctively raised his arm to
protect his eyes and face.  His revulsion deepend when he felt the
slick, sticky substance wiping off on his forearm.

With his eyes shielded, Timmy couldn't see what was happening, but he
could still hear Elliot's pleasure laden voice calling out in Chinese.
Now Timmy felt and heard the impacts of more wet gobs against his
body.  The next one hit his neck, the third his chest, the fourth
landed on his abs, and the fifth on his lower belly.  Each impact was
audible, like something raining down and 'thwapping' to a stop against
his skin.  Timmy could feel each spurt pool where it had landed, then
start to dribble down to one side or the other of his body, taking its
warmth with it and leaving behind a wet cold spot.  Timmy realized the
fluid would eventually dribble off his body onto the floor and leave a
stain, but he was too stunned to try to dam it up or wipe it away.
There was too much of it anyway.

Timmy realized it was safe to unshield his face, and just as his eyes
opened, he saw Elliot's long thick Chinese cock make one more
convulsion that pushed out a thick, almost chunky looking white mass
that dripped down onto Timmy's boycock, which was lying deflated
against his belly.  The sight of it was at once both revolting and
fascinating.

"What was that?" Timmy asked incredulously.

Elliot didn't answer right away.  Although his cock had now stopped
oozing white stuff, his body was clearly still caught up in something.
Although Elliot was still uttering the same phrase in Chinese, his
tone had gone from triumpant yells to almost plaintive pleas.  His
pecs and abs and arms and neck were tensed, but every muscle and sinew
was slowly relaxing with each passing moan.  Timmy could guess that
Elliot was gripped by the same kind of feeling that had taken hold of
him.

At last Elliot escaped from the jaws of the orgasm and could answer.
"That was my Chinese seed."

Timmy couldn't imagine what 'seed' meant, but Elliot's words confirmed
what he was already starting to suspect: it must be something special
that only Chinese people could produce.  The broadside of fluid Elliot
had unleashed was of such a greater magnitude than the small string of
clear fluid that Timmy's cock had oozed, that it never occurred to him
they might be the same kind of thing.  Chinese men, with their larger
cocks, had some kind of special power he would never have.  Timmy felt
bitterly jealous and deeply embarassed that he was different and
apparently inferior, just from the mere fact of being white.

But why be embarassed?  If it was such a failing that he couldn't do
what his Chinese friend could do, it was quite clear that Elliot
enjoyed being here.  He certainly didn't seem to be disappointed in
Timmy, so why should he be disappointed in himself?  No, he decided,
he felt LUCKY that he had a friend to show him this amazing thing that
probably most white boys never got to experience.  He wanted to thank
Elliot, but his thoughts were too uncoordinated to do so.

Timmy looked down at his own cock and was surprised to find that in
the short time he hadn't been paying attention to it, it had softened
and shrivelled up and was lying sideways against his lower belly.  He
still felt the kind of urgent longing that always seemed to come about
when his penis got hard.  Before when his cock got hard in his pants
for no reason, it would stay that way for a long time.  But now it lay
there useless.  Was something broken?  Was he somehow not strong
enough?  Again, the realization arrived that he was merely discovering
things about himself that had to be accepted.

The same was not happening to Elliot.  His cock was still fully rigid,
and in fact it semed to Timmy that now it was bigger than ever before.
Indeed, the thrill and excitement had made Elliot get so hard, his
Chinese cock was fully 6" long.  Elliot gripped the base of the shaft
and bent it to push it downwards.  When it slipped from his grasp, the
engorged shaft rapidly swung back up, slapping against Elliot's belly
with a loud thud.  Again and again he did it, and each time his cock
reacted like spring-loaded steel.  Elliot played with himself like
that for several minutes, letting Timmy watch in awe.

Finally Elliot pushed his cock down until he pressed it against
Timmy's soft boycock, which was just below him as he knelt astride the
American boy's body.  If the difference in their sizes had been large
before, now it was a gulf.  Elliot's Chinese cock hadn't flagged at
all, but Timmy's was totally soft, and the cool air had made it shrink
down to only 1" long.  Elliot held his cock there and let Timmy look
at them and compare them.

"Chinese are huge!" Timmy wailed in a voice that was equal parts
humiliation and satisfaction.  Elliot rubbed his rock hard shaft
against Timmy's soft penis, smearing around the still-warm cum that
Elliot's most recent erruption had dribbled there.

"Americans are little," Elliot responded, surprised to hear himself
say it because, before today, he'd never considered that there might
be a difference worth noticing.  When he heard Timmy moan in response,
Elliot was encouraged to add, "Americans are tiny."  Timmy's
American-sized cock utterly disappeared from view behind the rubbing
from his Chinese shaft.  It thrilled him to say something so cruel,
but to do so without guilt because he could sense that it was what
Timmy wanted to hear.  Timmy wanted to hear the truth, he thought.
This was the truth.  They were learning this together.

"Americans are tiny," Timmy echoed pitifully, but now with a tone of
certainty in his voice that gave Elliot a shiver.  His rubbing became
more forceful until he was actually slapping Timmy's cock with his
own.  Each time his Chinese member impacted the soft American boycock,
the loud thwap echoed off the rafters, and Timmy's penis flapped from
one side to the other under the onslaught.

"Please stop," Timmy whimpered, but there wasn't a trace of pain in
his voice.  Elliot's lips curled into a smile.  He switched his
side-to-side slapping to a vertical pounding, a Chinese hammer against
a little American nail.

"You can't stop me!" Elliot crowed said obstinately, slamming his tool
down harder each time.

"No," Timmy whimpered, almost sobbing now.  "I'm too weak.
Americans... are too weak."

"Americans can never stop Chinese," Elliot said, responding to Timmy's
line of reasoning, and accepting it himself.

"America can never stop China!"  Timmy wailed.  It was something he
had to say, because it was something he'd come to feel.  Everything
was proving it true.

Hearing Timmy say that about their two countries made Elliot's body
tingle for a reason he was too excited to stop and figure out.  "Say
it again!" Elliot ordered, who had now gone back to stroking his cock
with long, almost violent thrusts.

"America can never stop CHINA!" Timmy cried.

"AGAIN!"

"America can never stop China!  We'll be under you.  You can BEAT US!"
Timmy shrieked.  The powerlessness, defeat, and humiliation he'd been
brought to feel were so intense that the only thing he could do was
pull his country into it.  And he accepted it as true.

The words Timmy spoke, the power it granted to Elliot, the pride it
made him feel, and the resumed stimulation of his cock pushed Elliot
right back over the edge into another totally unexpected orgasm.  The
first had been a long, drawn-out wave of pleasure.  This one hit like
a sucker punch to the solar plexus, just one brief intense beam of
ecstacy.  As it hit, the power was great enough to haul up one more
eruption from Elliot's balls, which arced through the air and landed
squarely in Timmy's gaping mouth!

By instinct, Timmy convulsed and spat as he felt the warm glob land
right on his tongue.  He ejected some of Elliot's wad back out onto
his chin.  Then Timmy noticed that what remained didn't taste bad,
didn't even taste dirty.  Elliot had told him this was his Chinese
seed; it was something he had been GIVEN.  Timmy closed his mouth and
played with the sticky, slippery mass, rubbing it between his tongue
and the roof of his mouth, and at last tried to swallow it.

"Do you like it?" Elliot asked, his voice still pinched from his
latest orgasm.

"Mmm-hmm," Timmy answered without opening his mouth.

Elliot reached up to Timmy's forehead and scraped the wad that had
landed there onto his thumb, which he then brought to Timmy's lips.

"There's more."

Timmy resisted parting his lips at first, so Elliot smeared the goo
against them.  Finally Timmy opened up and Elliot's thumb pushed
inside, taking the scraped away cum in with it.  Timmy sucked the
thumb noisily, cleaning off all the cum, and reverting to a childhood
state.

At last Elliot started to withdraw his thum.  Timmy raised his head
off the floor, following and trying to keep Elliot's thumb in his
mouth, but eventually it pulled free, wet and glistening with Timmy's
saliva.  Timmy sat up on his elbows with his legs still pinned under
Elliot's thighs.  As he did, the cum he'd been spattered with started
to roll down hill and threated to spill out onto the carpet.

"Woah!" Elliot said protectively, and pushed Timmy flat to the floor
again before the leak became catastrophic.  He hastily grabbed Timmy's
Captain America t-shirt, and started mopping up.

"I need a shower," Timmy said, lifting his head to survey the damage
as Elliot wiped him clean with the red white and blue t-shirt.  The
two boys eyes locked, and with no words spoken, they knew they would
be doing it together.

(More to come!  Please send comments to east.meets.west.te@gmail.com.
And please do consider donating to Nifty!)