Date: Thu, 03 Jan 2002 17:40:18 +0800
From: Colin Cleary
Subject: THE JASON CARTER STORY - 6

The stories included in this anthology are fiction, you might even say
fantasy, and have been written to amuse, intrigue, entertain, divert and
delight.  They contain scenes of graphic inter-generational sex; if these
are not to your taste, or if they are outlawed in your city, state,
providence, or country, read no further, but simply go elsewhere for your
entertainment.

All characters who appear in the stories are fictional, and any
similarities between them and the genuine living or dead are coincidental
and unintentional. The only exception is Aaron Carter about whose sexuality
the stories make no reference whatsoever; he does seem a nice kid and I
appreciate his bubblegum rap, but that's it.

Above all, if you have not yet reached the age of consent, read no further;
it is not the intention of the site nor the writer to fill your head with
dreams and desires which as yet may be only vague and inchoate. There's
lots of fun to be had on the Net; go and find what is appropriate for you.

To everyone else who takes some pleasure from this tale, may you and yours
live long and prosper.



6 - PAPERBACK WRITER

 
"Jason!"

"Aw shut up, Mom. It's Sunday morning. I don't have to get up."

All I wanted was to lie there, play with my prick and do what boys the
world over do on a lazy Sunday morning.

"Jason!"

The voice was right in front of me now. I looked down the bed. Recognition
came slowly. I blinked. "Adam?"

He grinned toothily and hoisted himself up and gave a little jump to plant
a light kiss on my nose, catching me by surprise.

I stared at him. "You look unbelievable," I said, with complete
sincerity. And his appearance was more than half the reason I hadn't
recognized him.  I hadn't seen Adam in about 8 months. He'd just turned 12
a few weeks before we'd last bumped into each other. He'd been pretty much
as he'd been the first time I'd met him, three years before. Adam was
rather short - four-foot-nine, but he made up for that by a seriously
athletic little body. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, butterfly pelvis,
sturdy legs, you know the kind of thing.

Seriously attractive, too. Since he was eight, Adam had done a lot of ads
on TV and in kids' fashion clothes; his photographs had become a
collector's item with some people, including me. Especially the series of
swim suits he did in Tunisia! Not that I was particularly attracted
sexually to small boys, but Adam was something else, though I'd kept my
hands strictly, more or less, to myself when he was younger. I don't think
it's fair to fuck up little kids' heads before they can fuck them up for
themselves. What do you think?

Damn, he looked good! His jeans clung to slim hips and legs that were just
a shade too long for his diminutive height. He'd had his hair cut
differently, a bit longer and fuller. His eyes sparkled and his lips and
nose were perfect for his face. The Fairy of Puberty had waved his wand and
Adam Mason had turned into a remarkably handsome youngster.

We talked and Adam told me his family had moved back into the area. He was
coming to Queen Elizabeth's - my school! - in the Autumn.

Mom started hollering up the stairs. I knew I'd to get up, or she'd be in
turfing me out of bed. Since I was naked with a semi-stiff prick, I didn't
fancy that idea too much. But there was Adam sitting on the end of my bed,
too. Aw fuck it. I slid out of bed, my prick pointing the way to the
bathroom. Adam whistled! I blushed! I stood there in my bathroom trying
hard to take a piss through a cock that was getting harder by the second. I
strained and achieved. The thick splattering sound could be heard across
the County. Outside, I heard Adam laughing: "Can I come back this evening,
Jason? Maybe you can tell me what school's like."

"Sure thing, Adam," I shouted. "Tell my mom I'll be downstairs in a couple
of minutes."

Adam laughed again. "Okay, but don't do anything I wouldn't do. Save it for
tonight." I heard the door close. I worked my cock to full hardness. I
began to jerk myself off. Then with a sigh, I gave it a slap. I didn't have
time for this. I'd to be in church in fifteen minutes. I'm an altar
boy. I've got responsibilities.

He rang my bell at 6:06 on that evening and I buzzed him in. He was wearing
jeans again and a simple white shirt tucked into his waistband. I gave him
a can of Irn Bru - his choice - and the two-bit tour of our four-room
apartment. The place was eerily quiet. Mom had taken the kids to evening
Mass, Dad had taken himself to the Club.

Adam enjoyed the stereo - choosing a recording by Sinead, much to my
surprise and pleasure - and ooohed and ahhed at the little study I created;
it's the place where I write. Okay, I'm only 16, but I'm going to be a
writer and that's that. If I wasn't, you wouldn't be reading this now,
would you? I tried sticking some stuff on the Web asking for comments and
suggestions, the suggestions I got would have given a hard-on to a
corpse. Adam picked up a couple of books from my collection and asked: "Do
you read all of these?"

I am always surprised when someone is impressed by my Library Wall in my
den. I explained to him if you read for an hour a day, you read a couple of
books a week. In thirty years, that's around three thousand books. If you
save some books - well, you pretty quickly end up with the Library Wall. My
den is only fifteen feet long, so a wall of books isn't that big a
deal. Adam picked up another book and scanned through it.

"Shit," he muttered, "this is hot stuff." I'd a peek at the spine, then
snatched the book from his hand. "Yeh, and it's a bit too hot for you."
(He'd read a couple of paragraphs from one of my gay novels and his eyes
had nearly popped out of his head.) I tucked the book back in the 'secret
section' of my library. It had been pretty stupid to leave that book lying
around, but Mom was good enough never to come into my room without getting
permission, so I wasn't too worried. Still, no point taking chances.

The talk moved on to half a dozen subjects and later, after more chatting
and catching up - and Adam doing in three cans of Irn Bru - he started
examining the titles of the books again, inspired no doubt by his find. He
asked if he could look at one on a high shelf. I started to get up from the
couch.

"I'll get it. I just wanted to know if it was okay to look at it."

"Sure, help yourself." He got the little folding step-stool from the corner
and set it up. It's only a four-step job, so he had to stand on the top. I
went to steady him because the steps were a bit wobbly. As soon as I got
there, he turned half-way and started toppling.

I caught him with my hands at his waist. His cheeks flushed and the redness
spread down his neck and throat and into the vee of pale flesh exposed by
the three unfastened buttons. Funny thing about bare flesh: when you expect
to see it, there's not much erotic about it; it's when you get the
unexpected glimpses that it can turn you on faster than any nakedness
can. The sweet vulnerability of Adam's body hit me hard.

I put my arms all the way around him and pressed him up and against me. He
was arching his back deeply to catch my face between his thighs and rub his
denim-clad crotch against nose and lips. . I ran my hands up and down his
back, then reached down and covered his ass, one hand to a cheek.

But there was nothing girl-like in the heat or experience in his hungry
touch or the way he was writhing against me. And there sure as hell was
nothing childlike in the pressure of his hardening prick against my face.

Stunned, I broke away and helped him down from the steps. His face was
flushed but there was also a triumphant look in his eye as if he'd broken
his own personal dare barrier. He'd certainly put a dent in mine. We stood
there in a semi-clinch while I made up my mind what I was going to do, if
anything.

"I've wanted to do that for two years," Adam said. "And I've wanted you to
do that, too." His eyes opened. "Did you know that?"

I shook my head.
 
"And you don't remember telling me you liked me and thought I was cute, and
at the Christmas party when you sat with me under the tree for nearly an
hour and we talked about everything, and you let me lean on you and share
your trifle? Don't you remember?"

I was starting to remember something, now .... I moved Adam over to the
leather couch I'd got for the den, for my fourteenth birthday. It was a
three-seater; I'd slept on it a couple of times, it was amazingly cool and
comfortable. I sat the boy down and looked into those solemn grey-blue
eyes. "And don't you remember at the swimming pool. You always used to let
me share your cubicle, and when I was very little you helped me dress and
undress. Maybe you could help me now."

He brought one hand up and quickly unbuttoned his shirt as if he was scared
I'd stop him before he got it undone. He slid open four buttons and parted
his shirt. Creamy tanned flesh filled my gaze; I saw the hint of pectoral
muscles, the hard rosy nubs of his nipples, the slightly creased flesh at
his stomach, the little inner belly button, the same tanned flesh pouring
tautly under the waist of his jeans.

I swallowed.

"I'm going to take off my shirt," the boy said, his voice quavering just a
bit. If you don't want me to, just stop me, and it'll be as if this never
happened." He tugged his shirt back from his shoulders.

"Adam?"

He frowned. "What?"

I lifted him easily and turned him, setting his butt in a corner of the
couch, then I bent slightly and began kissing and licking his hot, hard
little nipples, trying furiously to live up to the expectations of this
sweet thirteen-year-old who had more courage and determination than all you
funked-up writers of porno could even imagine. I bent and licked his
shoulders, then down his arms. I trilled my tongue in the hollow of his
elbow and watched the goose bumps rise and felt him shiver. Then I went
back to work on his nipples that seemed even more sensitive than my own.

His aureoles were no larger than five-pence pieces, but the nubs themselves
were outstanding. They swelled up and out, stretching easily one-quarter of
an inch and as thick as pencil erasers. His hands had come up to either
side of my head and he was trying to force my mouth onto his nipples. I let
him - but my mouth draped over each one, open, and I withheld my tongue, so
no matter how much the boy pressed my face into the firm, fragrant
abundance, his nipples were untouched. I figured absence makes your nipples
grow harder, so I stayed completely away from touching his nipples.

It drove him crazy.

But while my lips and tongue were busy with his abundant upper attractions,
my hands had been steadily caressing and stroking his muscled but slim
legs. My right hand was gently moving up and down over the denim-clad curve
of his lower stomach.. I could feel the heat through the denim of his
jeans. I unsnapped the waistband of his jeans and lowered the zipper.

I could feel the humid heat rising in waves from the v-opening. I began
kissing all over his chest, working my way down over his abdomen. That's
what you call that part of the torso on a boy in his condition: "abdomen."
"Belly" is too soft a word. From the definition of the muscles
criss-crossing his tummy, it was obvious he was still burning up the
calories in the way that pubescent and adolescent boys do. I could easily
find the ridges of hard muscle beneath the smooth, minimal layer of normal,
healthy human fat by tracing and exploring with my tongue.
 
That's just what I did: explore with my tongue. I traced and delineated
every smooth ripple of firm abdominal muscle, always working lower, and as
my tongue finally found and reached the limits of his opened zipper, his
hands came down to either side of my head, pushing me lower, always lower.

One final little push and the tip of my tongue was playing in silky swirls
of brown pubic hair, so light and fine I knew it had been there only a
matter of months. Adam's hair brushed lightly against my lips, which turned
me on so much it was my turn to groan in pleasure.
 
Young boys are really sensitive about their pubic hair; it's all so new, so
significant, part of the mysteries of becoming a man, of becoming fully
male, of leaving that androgynous, sexless part of boyhood behind.

"Put your arms around my neck," I whispered - mostly because my voice
wasn't working quite right at that moment - and he complied willingly. My
plan was to stand with him hanging on me and push the jeans down off his
narrow hips. Worked, too, and I wasn't completely surprised to find that
Adam wore nothing underneath his jeans. I stood there, his legs around my
waist, his arms around my neck, his sweet Irn Bru breath mingling with
mine, and worked his jeans past his butt, down his legs until I'd to put
him down.

Then I dropped to my knees, undid his trainers, disposed of them and his
socks, slipped off his jeans and eased him back down onto the couch. He lay
there, beautiful beyond words, half sitting, half lying down, his erection
standing pink and taut, his balls lolling in the vee of his thighs. Adam
raised his arms and cupped the back of his head. To use a stolen phrase,
his armpits were like the chalice we used at High Mass. To me, they were
equally sacred and I knew I'd spend a lot of time cleaning and polishing
them with my tongue.

If Adam had let me, I'd have been content to stand there for ages making
love to his face and body with my eyes, but he grinned and reached for. I
let the boy draw me to him.

His hands were busy, unsnapping the waist of my slacks and dragging down
the zipper. He pushed the chinos down and then my briefs and my dick popped
free, standing straight out and pointing at his face like some turret gun
tracking its target.

He grabbed my cock and for the first time, after knowing him for something
like eight years, I realized how small his hands were. True, my dick is a
bit on the thick side - about an inch and three-quarters in diameter - but
that's within the standard variation. No one has ever swooned at the
sight. Adam's fingers barely reached around it. Leonardo di Caprio's got
small hands. I just throw that in because it's true. Mind you, if di Caprio
had his fingers round my cock I wouldn't much care about the size of his
hand; I'd be thinking about the size of the rest of him. Look, if you can't
visualise Adam clearly enough, substitute Leonardo di Caprio, in his
younger days, much younger days.

Adam ducked his head forward and began moving his tongue around my glans,
swirling. That's something you may have heard of, but let me tell you: I've
been with a few guys and the awkwardness of the movement usually restricts
it to something that's really pleasant, but not accurately described as
"swirling."
 
This boy swirled. His tongue was agile, experienced, limber and long enough
to do the job. Not to mention, tireless. He moved it around and around my
fat dick head, all the time moving his lips closer and closer to my
glans. His slim little fingers were gripping the base of my cock, his
tongue was swirling, his lips were nearing, and from time to time he'd
glance up at me and his eyes would sparkle.

His other hand? He was playing with his nipples, caressing them briefly and
spending a lot of time pinching and twisting the nubs a lot more vigorously
than I'd have. Even lying full length on the couch, he could almost have
straightened his lithe legs. I reached down and caressed his face. He
closed his eyes dreamily and pushed his head forward a little more and
fastened his lips around the head of my dick. He let go of the base of my
cock and reached up to rest his delicate hand on my hip. He guided me
toward him a little bit, then back. As I pressed forward, he took about
half my cock into his mouth.

His tongue did amazing things to the underside of my shaft, and his cheeks
were drawn inward with the force of his sucking. I caressed his face again
and he shivered slightly. I traced my finger around the side of his mouth,
up his jaw to his ear, then back down to where my dick was outlined through
his concave cheeks.

I knelt astride his head and slid my hands under his butt. I couldn't
believe how tight his asscheeks were! It was exactly like holding two
little mounds of hard foam rubber...but considerably more pleasant. I began
kissing and licking just above his knees. When I slid my hands to the back
of his knees and pulled his legs open, his sucking hesitated. When I
pressed my lips to the taut flesh on the inside of one freckled thigh, I
felt him groaning around my turgid dong. The vibrations were excruciating
on my swollen, over-sensitized cockmeat. My balls were starting to tighten
ominously.

I licked higher on his thighs, forced by the difference in our heights to
slide back until my dick as threatening to pop out of him mouth - which was
the idea at the moment: I didn't want to cum too quickly.

I slid back a little farther and my dick popped out of his mouth. I licked
around the edges of his pubic hair and then pressed my tongue down between
his spread-eagled thighs and buried my face in his crack, heaving up so
that my tongue was in reach of his asshole His musk was almost dizzying in
its sweet and sour boy-smell.

He gasped and his hands came down to push my head away. "Hey!" he
whispered. "You're starting to lick me...down there."

"I know," I said. "I'm trying to."

This seemed to stun him. "You mean - you want to lick me down there?"

"You betcha. Don't you like it?"

"Nobody's ever done that before. A couple of boys at school have sucked me
off, and I've sucked them off, but nobody's tried to touch me... down
there."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, Adam, and if you don't like it,
just push my head way, and I'll stop. That's a promise."

"But then I can't suck you! I'm too short to - "

"I know, but if you keep doing those things, I'm going to cum in your mouth
."

"Go for it!"

His hands were back on my hips, anchoring him so he could pull himself up
and get my dick back in his mouth from underneath. "I want you to cum in my
mouth," he breathed hotly onto my glans, his tongue flickering onto the
underside of my shaft for unnecessary emphasis. He used his hands to urge
me to lie back. He rolled to his hands and knees on the bed. "I want you to
lie back and let me suck you and .... maybe touch you down there, too."

Who was I to refuse a friend?

I sprawled crossways on the couch, with my legs hanging off at the
knees. He scrambled over me, brushing me with his stiff little nipples in
the process, and arranged himself perpendicular to me. His face was at my
groin.

He took my cock into his hot mouth again and this time he moaned as he
sucked it slowly into his face. My dick hit the back of his throat and he
groaned, backed off, then shifted his angle a bit. He took it slowly back
in and kept gulping until he'd his lips into the bush of coppery hair
around the base of my cock and his nose was pressed flat against my
abdomen. I don't what else they had taught him at that school of his, but
this was one expert little cock-sucker.

This time I was the one who groaned. Adam sucked powerfully on me. He began
to back my dick out of his throat. When only the head remained between his
lips, he slowly pushed his face down again. I reached down with one hand
and caressed his hair and his shoulders, then slid my hand over his
slippery torso and squeezed his greasy little butt.

He quickened his pace slowly, inexorably. As he came down, my hand was
pressed between his chest and my abdomen. I could feel his swollen nipple
grinding hot and pebble-hard into my palm. I rubbed a little bit and he
groaned. His groan vibrated my dick, eliciting an answering groan from me -
which seemed to excite him still more. His hips were hunching slowly,
almost grinding at the empty air. He was sucking harder and bobbing a
little faster.

I felt the tingling buzz through me and whispered, "I'm cumming now, Adam."

He moaned loudly, his hips pumped rapidly, demandingly. He sucked hard and
his hand came up between my shaking thighs. His fingertips grazed my balls
and I could hear and feel him gasp as his ass lurched and then he got my
jism spurting into his mouth.

I came like a newly-released convict. The stuff erupted out of me into his
mouth. When the first spurt splashed into the back of his throat, he
started to shaking all over. He sucked harder, almost frantically, and a
second geyser flooded his mouth. He swallowed and dived his head down and
back up halfway, working his throat and lips and tongue over my pulsing
shaft, milking my dick and balls.

When he got the last of my cum, he slowly relinquished my still
semi-tumescent dick by pulling his still-sucking mouth backward, his tongue
all the time working wildly on my shaft and finally on my glans. When my
shrivelled dick finally popped out of his mouth, he used his slender
fingers to raise it. He lapped at my cock like a kitten getting the last of
the milk from a saucer. When his tongue rasped over my glans, I almost
screamed from the sensation; my dick was much too sensitive at that point
and I'd to pull away from paradise.

He flopped on his side with his cheek on my abdomen and his face toward
me. His hips still moved, but now languorously. I rested my hand on the
side of his face and caressed him.

"C'mere."

I pulled him up to me and forced his to sprawl across me. I moved to kiss
him, but he jerked his head away.

"I've still got some of your cum in my mouth!"

I took his head in my hands and forced his face toward me. I kissed him as
sweetly and gently as I could, on the eyes and nose and finally on the
lips. He kept his mouth tightly closed for a moment.

I pulled back. "I want to kiss you, Adam."

He looked bewildered, but relented. Our tongues danced for a few
moments. He was telling the truth; he still had some of my semen in his
mouth. It didn't bother me in the least, but he seemed to get
uncomfortable.  I let him back away from the kiss. He looked at me
strangely for a moment, then: "Can I ask you really personal question?"

"Well, you just came in my mouth and wanted to kiss me and it's like you
don't mind the taste of, uh - "

"Semen. The word is semen.  Or cum."

"Well?"

I ran my hands down his back and pulled him closer. "Adam, you don't seem
to mind the taste; why should I? But to tell you the truth, I'd rather
taste your cum in my mouth, which, young man, I'm shortly about to do."

Adam cuddled into me. "I'm sorry, Jason. It's just we never kissed in
school. It wasn't you know... well, it was just sex. Kissing means a lot
more, don't you think?"

"Yeh, I do, Adam." I pulled him against me and fastened my lips to his. I
probed a little with my tongue. After a few moments, he opened his mouth
and led me slide inside. Then I felt his tongue reciprocate and we lay
there for about fifteen minutes exchanging hot wet kisses and bodily
fluids. Finally, we lay side by side, looking into each other's eyes as we
murmured.

Adam's eyes got suddenly heavy-lidded. "Oh, yeah, well, I really like
feeling that in my mouth, all that stuff spurting so hot and thick, and
feeling you moving and hearing you groan and knowing I'm doing that to you,
making you feel like that while you give me the cum right out of you, like
you're feeding me and - "

"Shhh, baby," I whispered. "Every word you're saying goes for me, too. Now
close your eyes... lie back and think of ...." I slid down his body. His
hot prick was still urgently hard. I pressed my lips to the unsheathed head
and felt the boy tremble all over. Whatever I did, he wasn't going to hold
out for very long. Still, it was around 7.30 and I knew the folks would be
home by eight. We didn't have much time, but I was determined to make Adam
realise what he was beginning to mean to me. I slid his four inches into my
mouth and sucked as gently as I could; at once his legs started tremble,
his stomach fluttered under my hand, and I could feel his balls rise in his
tightening scrotum.
 
I don't think you could have reached 100 before he was squirting
uncontrollably into my hot hungry throat, his hands pulled my head so hard
into his groin I couldn't breath at all. Fortunately I've been a serious
swimmer since I was eight, so I dived and went for it. Four, five, six
squirts actually hit the back of my throat in rapid succession. "Oh oh oh!"
I heard Adam's voice count them, or rather groan them out. Then he trembled
again, locked his thighs round my head and lay there like an unstiffening
corpse. I gave both of us a bit of time to recover then eased him away.

"Come on, boy. Up!" I insisted. "Mom and the kids will be here in a few
minutes. "We'd better have quick wash. We smell like... like we just shot
our loads or something." Adam grinned and leapt up displaying the absurd
recovery powers of the thirteen-year-old and grabbed his clothes. "Okay,
race you to get dressed."

As we made for the kitchen and a show of innocence, Adam paused: "May I
borrow that novel. Betcha he can teach me a few things - for next time..."
I sighed, my cock stirring immediately at the thought of that 'next time'.

We spent the rest of next week together, which surprised nobody in either
of our families since they'd always been good friends. They were delighted
to be living near each other again, and Adam's parents were particularly
pleased I was taking the time and trouble to ease him back into our
neighbourhood before school started again. There was sex, lots of it, but
there was lots more than that.

Adam had a sharp mind, a lively intelligence, a restless curiosity, and a
willingness to learn that reminded me how much I'd appreciated him before
his age reached double figures. Now we had sex in common, our friendship
deepened even more quickly despite the two years difference in ages and two
inches in cock size!

He'd been playing with my dick while I pondered and my cock, which has no
conscience, was stiffening and my balls were tightening. His fingers were
tantalizing my prick now, barely touching it as they moved up and down and
then sliding lower, between my legs, where he trailed his fingernails
lightly over my balls. I almost had a seizure from the intense lightness of
the touch. He squirmed against me, his chest massaging my belly as his
asshole drooled wetly on my leg.

He started kissing him way down toward my cock, but I stopped him with a
hand under his chin.

"I want to give you pleasure in my way," I whispered.

"I like this," he murmured, pressing his lips against my abdomen. "It makes
me, you know, get over when you shoot your - your cum in my mouth."

"I know, but I want to taste you, too," I whispered. Adam looked at me
quizzically. "But you have. You've swallowed lots of my cum."

I held his little chin my hand. "I'm not talking about your cum. I'm not
even talking about your prick and balls. There are other bits of you I want
to taste. You know our agreement. I never do anything you don't want me to
do, and when you tell me to stop, that's what I do. But, Adam sweetheart,
I'm hungry for all of you, and I mean all of you."

He bit his lower lip and then nodded. With my hands under his arms, I
pulled him up to me and kissed his lovely mouth. After a few moments of
hesitation, his lips parted and our tongues danced. I was running my hands
over his naked loveliness, savouring the taut, tiny waist and hard little
mounds of his flawless ass. Occasionally I let one hand wander down between
his legs to barely touch his love hole. His buttocks would flex at the
contact.

I rolled him onto his back and started kissing my way down his torso. It
wasn't a long journey down his small frame from his hardened nipples to his
naval, but I took a leisurely, meandering route, making the most of
it. Then I headed for paradise. All the time, I was running my hands up and
down his firm torso and legs and by the time I'd kissed the hollows just
inside each hipbone, he was sighing and occasionally gasping with pleasure.

I slid lower, forcing his legs apart, and then began kissing and licking
the insides of his thighs. His knees, wide to either side of my broad
shoulders, were bent and I could even lick the backs of his lean thighs. I
slid my hands beneath him and took one cheek in each palm. He tensed more
and more, the closer I got to my target. Again I'd to suppress the mental
association with a prepubescent boy - it was really disturbing - and I
began savouring the musky sweetness of his love hole.

I grazed the outer lips with my mouth. He stiffened and his thighs
trembled, as if he were fighting a battle with himself to keep them
apart. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" I whispered.

"No, no, it's great but ... I'm just not used to it."

"Get used to it," I ordered. "I like it!"

I went back to licking. I tried to catch his anal lips, one at a time, in
my lips and play with them, but they were too thin and tight. They were
beautifully engorged and I was almost drooling. I tried parting them with
my tongue. The tongue is, ounce-for-ounce, the most powerful muscle in the
body.

I could not part his anal ring with my tongue.

Bringing my hands forward, I used my thumbs to pry those tight lips open
and expose the brown tenderness within. I licked and laved and trilled and
teased and let my breath fall on his little rosebud. I didn't need to hear
his gasps to know he was enjoying it; his lips seemed to swell with blood
until they were noticeably puffy.

His legs had clamped on my head and his hands rested in my hair. They
trembled as if in isometric exercise. He was fighting the impulse to push
me away because everything he'd been taught told him what we were doing was
dirty, and at the same time he was enjoying it immensely.

Then I started flattening my tongue in his thumb-parted anus and slowly
wriggling it up his rectum. By the time I reached the root of my tongue -
and it took a good ten seconds, even for that short a trip -his cock was
hot, hard and throbbing against my skin.

I slowed my circlings and took his ring in a lip-grip. He seemed to go
catatonic. He stiffened, taut as a catgut string, and shook. He made barely
any noise at all. I moved one thumb over, finally found the vestibule again
and carefully worked my thumb into the spasming constriction of his rectum.

When I pulled my lips off his lips, he forced his hips down - and in the
process forced half my thumb into his rectum. He groaned, long and low. I
wriggled the digit until he writhed again, this time with his hips
rocking. His juices were coating my fingers, my lips, my tongue. My cock,
hard to begin with, was aching - no matter that he'd drained me less than
twenty minutes before.

I slowly licked him again and he arched and came again - and then again. I
could feel hot little jets splatter against my body. I felt Adam go rigid,
limp and then rigid again before he shuddered uncontrollably against me.

When I pulled my face away, he collapsed back onto the bed, sobbing and
gasping. I crawled up and rolled him into my arms. He began weeping
uncontrollably. I was getting scared, now. I held him, gently caressing him
till he calmed. Then I asked and he said, "I just feel so - so silly,
cumming so much that way! I know you weren't ready, but I couldn't control
myself. I'm just a baby, a cry baby." He started to sob again.

I kissed his eyes and his tear-stained cheeks as he caught his breath and
relaxed.

He squeezed my aching erection. "I want this inside me."

"Don't be silly, Adam, that would really hurt. And honestly, I get so much
pleasure sticking my tongue up you, or cumming all over you, that it's not
really necessary." I sounded convincing, even to myself.

"I don't care what you want," Adam said, almost angrily. "It's what I
want. I want to feel you inside me. I know it'll hurt. If it hurts too
much, I'll tell you to stop. I trust you. You want it, I want it, so we're
going to try it."

"Wanna get on top, shorty?"

He giggled, then calmed down. "Mmmmm, I don't think that would work. I'm
kind of...small down there." He pecked me on the lips. "Besides, I'd rather
be under you, 'kay?"

I rolled him onto his back and his legs came up around my hips. I leaned on
my hands, propping myself up, and smiled down at this brave lad. Then,
grasping my erection, which ached so much it hurt, I ran the head of it up
and down his anal ring. Even without seeing it, it felt huge against that
tiny opening.

Adam's hand insinuated itself between us and he took over the guidance. I
felt no difference, but he was satisfied, evidently, because he locked his
legs around me and began pressing up at me.

I can take a hint. I began pushing slowly down at him and felt a tiny
opening at the tip of my glans. A grimace flickered across his face and I
hesitated. His eyes, squeezed shut, opened wide. "No! Don't stop!"  Okay, I
didn't. I swivelled my hips and he swivelled his and only the fact he'd
vacuum-dried my balls less than a half-hour before kept me from blasting my
cum into him the moment my glans was inside the incredibly small hole and
his sphincter was vise-gripping just behind the raised flange of my knob.

I stopped there. His expression said he was in pain and his anal ring was
spasming slightly looser occasionally - but then clenching right back
down. I moved to withdraw but he tightened his legs around my back.  "Don't
stop!" he grunted. "I've to have it in more!"

I slid my hands down to his ass, so tiny and tight. I pulled him towards me
as I pushed down.

Bit...by...grudging...bit...my cock burrowed into him, as he humped
hungrily up at me. He was wet all the way down and tight all the way down
and spasming all the way down. And when I finally felt his pubis grind into
mine and knew I was all the way inside, I could feel the wall of his rectum
against the tip of my cock. It was unbelievable. I imaged how distended his
anal ring must be round the base of my cock. I'm sure Adam had had some
very big shits in his life, but I can't imagine he'd ever had anything this
big, or hard and throbbing, up his shit chute.

Putting my hands under his butt had caused my upper body to fall forward
onto him. I raised myself up on my hands again and looked down into his
face. It was slack and darkened with a deep flush - and he'd bit his lip
hard enough to draw blood. His eyes fluttered open and the concern must
have shown on my face.

"I'm okay. I want to you to cum in me."

"It's hurting you - "

"I want you to ... fuck me! Fuck me!"

Each time he said it, he shivered.
 
"Fuck me and cum inside me! Do it to me! I want it!"

I pulled back a little - maybe an inch - and pushed slowly into him. Sucked
off or not, I wasn't going to last long, not the way this felt.  "Fuck me -
fuck me hard! I want to feel it! Fucking do me!"

I pulled back half-way and then pressed slowly and steadily into him. He
groaned and his legs rose up and onto my shoulders, his slim hips angled up
at me. I did it again and he gasped again and he started with "Unnnnnh!"
each time my dick pounded into him. I touched something deep inside the
boy, and he practically lifted me off the bed. "Fuck!" he yelled so loudly
that I clamped my hand over his mouth for a seconds. When I took my hand
away, he grinned up at me: "Whatever you do there, do it again. It's
un-fuck-ing-be-liev-able!"

"See!" he demanded. "See! Now fuck the living shit out of me - hard so I
can feel it like that!"

I saw and understood. I pulled my legs up and knelt, my hands under the
small of his small back supporting him so he was arched back. I held him
with one hand and moved the other around to his front and started stroking
his hard-on lightly and persistently.

His abdomen twitched wildly and then - and then he came! The spasms of his
asshole felt like they were going to hold my dick in him forever. He
squeezed his ring viciously, as if trying to snap me off at the root. I
couldn't believe how quickly Adam learned everything.

I leaned forward and starting driving into him faster, harder, using longer
strokes. He was cumming again, now, and giving himself over to the
pleasures. At one point, he wrapped his legs around my neck and glued
himself to me. "Yes!" he gasped. "YES! DEEP!" His legs went back farther
and farther and then he shifted his arms so that his knees were hooked
behind his shoulders. I looked down and saw his belly bulge each time I
pushed down and deep into him.

When my time came, I told him so, with my usual eloquence: "Cumming!
Cumming now!" I must have sounded like a fucking demented train spotter!

"YES!"

I squirted my jism into him, interrupted only by the clenchings of his anal
ring - which tightened so much it repeatedly stemmed the flow, which only
prolonged and intensified my orgasm. My dick lengthened and thickened
inside of him when that happened and Adam made little squeaky noises and
bit the back of his own leg in his wildness.

When my dick deflated - this happens, you know - his sphincter was so tight
it wouldn't let the erection-producing blood escape right away. Only slowly
did my cock soften enough for me to try pulling out of him.  His legs
straightened as my dick came free with an audible POP! and I rolled onto my
back, pulling him into my arms. His chest and belly were pressed against me
like fists and he shook against me. I felt dampness on my chest, from his
face.

"Are you okay?"

"Why do they have to make something so good sound dirty? It just makes me
want to do it more - just so I'll feel good."

"I don't know, Adam. I just don't know." He stretched himself out on me and
sighed. Does this mean we're HO-MO-SEX-SHU-ALS?" He grinned as he said.

"I don't know, Adam. I just don't know. I never thought I'd like having sex
with a boy, but when I'm around you that's what I want to do. You're my
first boy; I want you to be my last."

"Okay," Adam laughed. "When I'm 21, we'll give this up and get
girlfriends. Then we'll get married and have kids - boys. And our boys can
fuck each other!"

"It's a deal," I sighed. Adam rolled off and cuddled into me. We both
yawned simultaneously, grinned, closed our eyes and grabbed some shut-eye.
When I awoke, Adam was sitting up reading from the ring-binder in which I
keep my stories.

"Write about us," he said enthusiastically, ignoring the fact I was still
half-asleep. "What?" I yawned.

"About us, write about us, about you and me. I know you'll have to change
the names, but we'll know it's us. Use a different name. Sell the story. Or
stick it on the Net! I want everybody to know about us - everybody!"

Adam grinned, rolling on top of me. I felt his hot little (comparatively
speaking) cock pressing into my stomach. For a few moments, my mind was
miles away: Why not? Why not make what our story into my first real bit of
writing?

Maybe a paperback - on sale in all the book shops and airports of the
English-speaking world. I liked that idea: thousands of guys turned on by
our story, thousands of guys on thousands of rooms, paperback in one fist,
hard-on in the other, jerking to a climax just as Adam and I reached ours.

"Ouch!"

What the fuck?

Adam wasn't that small after all!