Date: Tue, 15 Sep 2009 14:42:44 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pierre Guillotine <guillotineboulevard@ymail.com>
Subject: Fond Memories 2

Comments, criticism, appreciation: guillotineboulevard@ymail.com

Dear reader,

This is a genuine narrative of something that happened when I was just a
kid. It hasn't been altered in any way and it contains details that make it
very special for me. It may seem a bit odd, but life sometimes makes less
sense than fiction. I hope that you give this little story a chance, as I
believe that most people can relate to such early experiences. And in case
you wish to tell me about your own, you can do it over email.

"Fond Memories 2"

Just a few months after my memorable playdate with C., I was invited to his
7th birthday party.  If I remember correctly, I was a couple of months
older than him, so I should be 7 already. Compared to his later birthdays,
that party was a little bit modest, just a reunion of friends and relatives
at home. Cake, snacks, soda, children's music, presents... To be honest,
that cozy mood was essential to enable the following events.

The adults could be found in the living room, chatting. We, the children,
were gathered in C.'s bedroom, about ten of us, playing with his extensive
toy collection that now featured several new additions.  All of a sudden,
for no apparent reason, C. did something that shocked and amused us
all. Maybe his intent was to entertain, maybe he just craved the attention,
nevermind the reason: he let his khaki bermuda shorts slide down to his
ankles, along with his grey briefs, and began to run bottomless around his
room. Laughter ensued, and he seemed pleased with the response. He paid
close attention to the living room crowd, whenever an adult approached, his
pants would come up to their rightful place.

C.'s stunt had the collateral effect of enticing my recently discovered
sexual inclinations.  For the next few days, in an attempt to quench my
desire for nudity, I tried to spend as much time as possible with my pants
around my ankles. Whenever I had a moment of privacy, my penis, my
testicles and more importantly, my ass, would enjoy some freedom. But, no
matter how naughty or exciting the feeling, it couldn't compare to the joy
of doing it with C., I imagined - nudity loves company. Our next playdate
should be interesting...

Let's see how to describe the situation. We were playing in his room and I
wanted to see him naked but I didn't know how to approach the issue. As it
often happens when we're kids (and sometimes when we're adults as well), I
was trying to avoid embarrassment, awkwardness, carefully choosing my
words, but, in spite of my best efforts, I ended up saying it in the
weirdest way possible. Something along the lines of "Remember how you got
naked in front of everyone in your party, yeah? Do it again!" Children
aren't very subtle, and as a child, C. didn't mind the clumsy approach and
obliged.

Now the show was private. He would briefly expose his lower body, giggle,
and then pull his pants up. Repeatedly. Instead of joining him in that
silly game, I did something that still amazes me to this day - I attempted
to raise him by the waist (to which he reacted positively, by standing on
his tiptoes) while bending my knees and lowering my head, to finally make
my lips meet his buns in a gentle kiss, while mumbling something like "to
kiss this little butt...", which somehow sounded a lot more sensual in our
native language.

My amazement is justified in the first place by the fact that such a move
was too bold for someone with a personality like mine. In the second place,
I was a 7 year old boy growing up in a religious household in the very
early 90's, which means pornography or erotica were 100% inaccessible. I
can only conclude that my actions and my words were instinctive.

All of this happened behind closed doors because his parents were home, it
was probably a weekend. His parents didn't normally object when C. kept his
door closed, but one can never be too careful in this situation, and that's
why he pulled his pants up right after the kiss. So, the routine that was
repeated many times that day and during our subsequent playdates could be
described as the following: first I would ask him to show me his adorable
goodies, then I would crouch or kneel, kiss his butt cheeks, rub my face
against his soft skin, or simply admire the faint speedo shaped tanline,
and then he would get dressed again and we would resume our innocent
activities.. No matter how many times I asked, he seemed enthusiastic about
it every time, but always following that little ritual. Once in a while he
would deny my request and tell me to wait a little, concerned that his
parents would come in. I don't know whether it was genuine concern or just
tease,
 that fact is that it spiced things up.

It's a shame that I didn't get to explore more of his anatomy, like his
penis for example, but I can't blame him for that, I'm sure he would give
consent if I had tried. Given the nature of my first liberating-erotic
experience, as described in the first installment of my story, the ass
became such a symbol, such an object of desire that made me somewhat
obsessed. I would only get to experience the wonders of the penis in
another opportunity, with another friend. But this is just a recent regret,
the enjoyment derived from that "worship of the derrière" was of such
magnitude that I would have been unable to imagine ways of enhancing it
back then - enjoyment that he apparently experienced to the same extent,
given the fact that often times the first step of our ritual, where I asked
him to expose himself, would be unnecessary: he would simply flaunt his
bare rear-end and wait for the appreciation. I was frequently on my knees,
so "worship" is indeed an
 appropriate word. I couldn't help feeling a little submissive in that
position, even though I was the older one (as a child, a few months do
matter), specially because it was up to C. whether or not I would get what
I wanted. On the other hand, he exerted his "domination" by offering his
ass to another boy.  In other words: he was able to get me on my knees at
will, but only by acting girlish. None of these power struggle issues ever
crossed our minds back then, and if there was a struggle, it was a very
sexy one that we thoroughly enjoyed fighting.

Unfortunately, everything that's pleasant must come to an end, and
eventually his parents and mine walked in on us (luckily he was just
standing bottomless in front of me, there wasn't any contact going on). The
details of that event aren't relevant to the purpose of this little story,
so I will abstain from describing it. Despite our playdates becoming few
and far between from that moment on, C. was responsible for making me
sexually aware, so I could never forget him. All of my naughty experiences
with other boys (which I hope to describe in the next installments) carry
his influence, of how he touched my life and how I touched his delicious
ass.