Date: Thu, 2 Mar 2006 04:23:00 EST
From: EddyRiha@aol.com
Subject: games with stefan 5

The usual disclaimers apply.  This is a work of fiction, and those folks
who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by moral
preference, or by law should not read any further.

All of the characters presented here are fictional representations,
including the narrator.  Some of the events and characters are inspired by
actual events and people I encountered in my younger days, but the
presentation here of events and characters in no way is meant to portray
actual, historical persons and events.  It's just a story.

All stunts were performed by professionals.  Do not attempt these at home.

No talk show hosts were harmed in the writing or reading of this story.

If anyone is offended by the premise of the story, or by explicit sexual
acts, please do not read any further.


Games with Stefan

by eddyriha

Chapter #5-At Stefan's House (Three Years Later)

When I turned 18 and had graduated from high school, Stefan and I had fun
all summer, with his having turned 16 allowing him to have more freedom
from parental supervision.  But more on our summer fun later.

I went away to college, about 300 miles away from where we grew up, and I
missed Stefan every single day of that first semester.  I mastered the art
of imagining Stefan with me, so I didn't feel too lonely during that
awkward time that I gradually made friends at college.  I also learned the
art of masturbating while my roommate was in the room going to sleep.  He
never knew that I would be still awake, slowly caressing my cock and
imagining it in Stefan's mouth, his ass, even his soft, tanned fingers.

I counted every day until Thanksgiving Break, hoping we would have an
opportunity to hang out and do more games.  But one thing or another, we
were never able to have a moment alone during the four days I was home.
And all I imagined in the quiet nights in my dorm room would have been
impossible, or so I thought, for when I returned home I discovered Stefan
lying on his living room sofa, his right leg in a full-length cast.  The
story was this: in the first soccer game of the season, Stefan's first with
the high school varsity squad, and with everyone expecting him to become
the scoring star of the team (who were perennial league and sectional
champions), he had maneuvered the ball toward the opposing goal.  With one
of his quick moves, making it seem he was going right when he was actually
moving left, Stefan had caused the goalie to commit himself and fall down.
The goal was suddenly open, his for the making.  And in his excitement and
eagerness to kick the ball, he also kicked the ground so hard that he broke
his right leg in three places.  Thus, his first and only goal was his last
for the season (and the last of his career, though we didn't know it then).
It also meant he was done with regular schooling for six months, as the
full-length leg cast would prevent him from participating in normal school
activities.  It is one thing to hobble around on crutches and drag an ankle
cast around; it's quite another to drag a full-leg cast around.

So for me, it was back to college and quiet nocturnal masturbation, all the
while hoping that my three-week Christmas Break would allow us time
together.  By the time I returned home in December, I was so horny I could
have fucked a tree stump.  Or something equally unappealing-you imagine
your own desperate image.  But with Stefan's leg still in the cast and with
his parents hovering around him like bees to honey, my chances of getting
him alone and playing our games were little to none.

I still made a few visits to his house, where we tried to have somewhat of
a conversation, periodically being interrupted by his mother or father or
younger sister, who all seemed unwilling to let Stefan have any peace and
quiet.  So we ended up mostly watching MTV (this was a time when MTV still
showed videos) and occasionally saying things like, "Man, that one's hot!"
Our references were vague enough to allow anyone accidentally overhearing
us to believe we were talking about the female dancers or performers in the
videos, when in reality we only had eyes for the male dancers/performers.

On one of those visits, I felt something warm against my skin.  I looked
down and saw Stefan's hand slide under my shirt.  He felt around my
stomach, just above the belt, his eyes closing and a smile on his face.
But then we could hear his mother climbing the stairs, and his hand
disappeared back under the quilted comforter that kept him warm when he lay
on the sofa during the days.  The disappointed expression on his face was
undoubtedly reflected in my own.  Shit!  I thought.  I'm gonna have to go
back to school in a few more days, and I haven't even had the chance to
look at his ass, let alone fuck it!

Then it was my last day at home.  My ride was heading back to campus the
following afternoon, and so on my last day in town I decided I would stay
as long at Stefan's as I could, with the hope and prayer that I could at
least jerk him off or have him jerk me.  So I was prepared to endure hours
of the same dozen videos on MTV, besides the routine interruptions of his
parents and sister, and to endure it with as much of a smile and cheerful
disposition as a particularly repressed and frustrated horny teenager could
muster.

We had just finished lunch, and Stefan's mom had said for the hundredth
time how grateful she was that Stefan had such a good friend who would be
willing to hang out with him and spend time with him on such a nice day
when I would be having to go back to school the next day and how wonderful
it all was and that kind of good-intentioned motherly shit -all the while
Stefan and I are looking at each other and wishing she'd stop saying that
and go to the store or something so we could get down to business.  Then
Liz stuck her head in the living room and said, "Don't forget, Mom, I've
got gymnastics practice in an hour.  You said you'd drive me today."

"That's right," Stefan's mom said.  "I almost forgot."

Stefan and I exchanged glances.  In a matter of minutes, two of the three
obstacles would be heading out the door.  And since Stefan's father was
working in his downstairs office, chances are we might, just might, be able
to do something, anything, to cure the raging hardons I knew each of us had
been experiencing most of the day.

As soon as the front door closed and we heard Liz and her mom get in the
car, Stefan whispered, "I want you so bad!"

"Shit, yeah!" I whispered back.  "I've wanted to suck you and fuck you for
so long!"

I thought for a moment we'd start ripping each other's clothes off and
banging away, regardless of the cast on his right leg.  Except that we
heard his father's voice on the phone downstairs.  Even though his office
door was closed, Stefan's father might hear us if we were making too much
noise.

I knelt down in front of Stefan, who was wearing a long flannel bathrobe
over his clothes, as he did almost every day since he broke his leg.  "What
would you like me to do?" I asked, still whispering.

"Anything you want," he replied.  "Anything at all."

He pulled back the comforter to reveal the bathrobe, an extra large one
that had once been his father's, which hung down below his knees.  He
unloosened the tie which held the robe in place around his waist-and my
wildest dream came true.  Stefan was wearing absolutely nothing underneath
the bathrobe!  The whole time we'd been sitting there watching Aerosmith
and Pearl Jam, and Stefan had been biding his time, waiting to reveal his
little secret to me.

He was just as hairless on his chest as he had been at thirteen, as he had
been the past summer when he and I had found extra excuses to play our
games together.  There was maybe a little more pubic hair, and his exposed
leg (the one not in a cast) was maybe a little hairier than I remembered.
But his dick was the same straight-as-a-missile cut rod I had dreamed about
every day for the past four months.  I instinctively reached for his cock
and wrapped my fingers around it.  It seemed fuller and thicker than my
memory.  It throbbed and throbbed under my grip.  Stefan closed his eyes
and whispered, "Do it, do whatever you want."

I didn't need another invitation.  I leaned forward, touched my lips to his
cockhead.  I kissed it lightly.  Then I moved closer to him, kissing and
licking my way up his body along the center, pausing only to lick and suck
each nipple and that hollow spot between the throat and the collarbone.
The whole time I kept my fingers wrapped securely around his cock, which
kept throbbing and begging for release.  I reached his chin, kissing it,
licking along his jawline, nuzzling my cheek against his.  Oh, how much I
wanted this boy to be with me always!  Our lips met and continued kissing
until we realized his father's voice wasn't on the phone anymore.  We
paused, suddenly afraid that maybe we'd gone too far.  The same chill was
running up our spines, but I had frozen in place.  My hand didn't leave its
tight grip on Stefan's cock.

His father came out of the office and stood at the foot of the stairs.  I
don't think either of us were breathing.  "Hey, Stefan, you guys still up
there?"

As if the sound of Green Day on the TV wasn't clue enough.  "Yeah, Dad,"
Stefan said.  "We're just hanging out watching videos."

"Your mom take Liz to gymnastics?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, I have to go meet a client," he said.  "You guys gonna be OK for
awhile by yourselves?"

Were we gonna be OK?  Is a politician corrupt?  "Yeah, Dad, we'll just hang
and watch TV."

"Well, if you need anything, you can call my cellphone.  You got the
number?"

When Stefan replied again in the affirmative, Stefan's father said goodbye
and left through the door between the house and the garage.

For a moment, we just crouched there in our frozen positions.  Then when we
heard Stefan's father's car start up, both of us exhaled audibly.  I
realized my hand had started to go to sleep, it had been gripping Stefan's
cock so tightly.  I kissed my lover on the lips, then kissed my way down
his body until I reached his cock.  We didn't need to talk about what he
needed.  I knew that with his leg in a cast he'd never be able to fuck me,
so what was left but for me to suck him?  I applied myself to the
delightful task, wrapping my lips around his cockhead and slowly sucking
his cock into my waiting mouth.  He sighed softly as he felt my warm, moist
mouth close over his shaft, and my tongue began massaging the sensitive
underside.  He pressed his pelvis toward me and I had all I could do to
keep him from forcing his cock through the back of my head, he was so eager
to be sucked.  It took a moment, but I regained control of the situation by
grasping him with both hands, one on each hip.  That way I could keep him
from thrusting too hard at me, while I proceeded to suck harder and harder
on his cock.  I was about to shift my attention from his cock to his balls,
when he suddenly exploded and came in my mouth.  His eyes were closed as a
smile spread over his face-he, like me, had been dying for a good release.

But I still hadn't had my own orgasm-and who knew how long Stefan's mom and
dad would be gone?  So I started unbuckling my belt and unzipping my jeans.

"I guess you'll have to suck me," I said.  I really wanted to fuck his ass,
but between the limited amount of time and the logistical difficulty of
getting Stefan in a position I could plow into his ass, I realized my
desire wouldn't be fulfilled this time.  Shit!

"Nah," Stefan replied.  "I want you to fuck me."

"How's that gonna work?" I asked.

"Just climb in behind me," he said.  "There's room enough on the sofa."  He
was lying on his side, resting his weight on his right hip and on the
immobile right leg in its cast.  There was just enough room for me to slip
between the boy and the back of the sofa.  But not so much room I could
move around the way I normally would when fucking.  But beggars can't be
choosers, as the saying goes.  And I was feeling like a beggar desperate
for something to eat, in the worst way.

So I stripped off my jeans and underwear, but Stefan stopped me as I was
about to remove my shirt and socks.  "You can leave those on, just in
case."  I knew what he meant.  So I left those on and began to crawl behind
him.

Suddenly, I remembered I'd forgotten to grab some lube.  Shit!  What was I
thinking?  I was desperate and horny, I wanted to fuck him real bad.  But I
didn't want to hurt him. . . .

"Hold on," I said.  "You got any lube in your room?"

"Nah," Stefan replied.  "It's already taken care of."

"What do you mean?"

"Take a look."  So I lifted up the back of his bathrobe and saw, to my
delight, that now-familiar cigar tube sticking out his asshole.  I touched
the tube, and he squirmed with pleasure.  The tube slid out easily, and it
was almost immediately replaced by one, then two of my fingers, as I worked
the lube around inside his hole, making sure that the outer lip and the
inner chute were evenly coated.  Then I pulled out my fingers, rubbed some
residual lube on my cockhead, and then rammed my five-incher into Stefan's
waiting ass.  The return of the familiar sensation of being surrounded by
the boy's warm, tight hole was in itself an ecstasy beyond words.  I lay
there for a moment, just enjoying the sensation.  I do believe I could have
stayed there for all eternity, and I might have done so, had Stefan not
interrupted the mood.

"What are you waiting for?" he demanded.  "Fuck me already!"

"Shut up," I snapped back.  Having my cock in its favorite place made me
more confident, even impudent, than usual.

"Please, please, hurry and fuck me!" Stefan was almost whining by now.

"I said, shut the fuck up!" I practically shouted, as I slapped his face.
As he started to protest, I slipped off my socks and stuffed them in his
mouth.  When he reached toward his face to remove the gag, I took the tie
off the bathrobe and looped it around his wrists, tying it off.  Then I
strung the other end of the tie through the armrest at the end of the sofa
above Stefan's head.  That meant that his hands were safely out of my way,
and with his mouth also gagged, I could proceed as I wanted.  Which, of
course, was also what Stefan wanted.  Long ago he'd realized that he liked
the fucking better when I did it-and when he was in some way immobilized.

I leaned in close to him, placed my hands on his shoulders, and began
flexing my hips, pushing my cock into his ass and, relaxing, allowing it to
slip back a little.  It took a few minutes to build into a rhythm, as I
didn't have much room to move.  But I didn't need to move much, just enough
so I could feel the lips of his hole rub along the lower part of my cock.
Stefan was also flexing his ass, which helped me feel the pleasure I'd been
craving.  I began nibbling and kissing his shoulders, the hollow at the
back of his neck, kissing and nuzzling and nibbling until I was working up
a hickey on the back of his left shoulder.  He was purring and moaning with
pleasure, knowing that his ass was fulfilling its best function with my
cock working it good.  All too soon, I came and spurted loads of cum into
his hole.

As my dick slowly slipped out of his ass, I was running my hands all over
his upper body, burying my face in his neck and hair and wishing I never
had to leave this position, this place of delight and comfort.  Shit!  I
heard a door slam outside.  Quickly, I slid off the sofa, stood up, and
hauled on my jeans, pocketing my underwear.  I also undid Stefan's wrists
and slipped the tie back around his bathrobe, which he then closed up,
hiding his beautiful body once more.  I tucked the comforter around him,
just as the front door opened and his mother and sister entered the house.
But, as they removed their coats in the foyer, I slid my hand beneath the
comforter and found Stefan's dick, giving it a playful, firm, parting
squeeze.  "Until next time," I whispered.

He knew exactly what the fuck I meant. . . .