Date: Sun, 26 Jun 2005 19:25:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: thunder boy <thunder151@yahoo.com>
Subject: Jockboy Mike: Chapter 02
Disclaimer: If you are under 18 or it is illegal to read this material in your
area, please leave now. This story contains material describing sexual activity
between teenage boys. Material may not be reproduced without author's
permission. Responses/suggestions/feedback to: thunder151@yahoo.com.
JOCKBOY MIKE: CHAPTER 02
My old pal Cooper was on the receiving end of some of my new-found
sexual energy. One afternoon, we were hanging out with his older brother,
David. I was noticing Sean's hairy legs for the umpteenth time he was
wearing sneakers and no socks, and his bare ankles and the haze of dark hair
there was hard to ignore. So I untied his shoelace. He looked at me
disapprovingly and then slowly retied it. So I reached over and untied his
other shoelace. Again, a look of disfavor and a slow, deliberate re-tying. This
was a game we had played before. I waited a few minutes and pulled on his
shoelace again. This time he looked at me long and hard, then as he tied his
laces he said, "Next time there will be consequences."
The challenge had been laid down. "Consequences, schmonsequences,"
I said. He smiled.
After a respectful wait, I reached over slowly toward his shoe. He
watched my hand moving, watched me grab the lace and slowly pull it. Done.
Now let's see the consequences.
Suddenly, Cooper shouted "Indian torture," and jumped on me. Indian
torture was another tradition in our circle, usually practiced on his little
brother. I could have taken Cooper on his own, or at least held him off, but
David joined in the fray, and I was soon on my back. David, kneeling at my
head, pinned my hands to the ground above my head. Cooper sat on my
stomach and lifted my t-shirt up to my shoulders. "Consequences,
schmonsequences, eh?" he inquired. I squirmed for escape but I was double-
teamed. And anyway, I got a thrill out of showing off my hard little chest.
Cooper started tapping on my breastbone with his middle finger, over
and over again. This was a slow process, kind of like Chinese water torture,
but the constant tapping adds up, and the breastbone starts getting pretty
tender after a few minutes. As I continued to squirm under his weight, Coop
started chastising me for my transgression, saying "I'll teach you to mess
with my shoes," and "You're gonna learn your place today, boy," and "Know
your role." In the meantime I was squirming side-to-side and up and down to
get free, so Cooper had moved backwards, over my hips. Pretty soon I was
gettin' a hard-on. Again.
As I squirmed under him, I started noticing Cooper's daemon qualities
partly to distract myself from the achy spot on my chest, but partly out of
genuine interest. His arms were pumped up from the struggle, and his whole
body was braced for balance. He had a look of concentration on his face, a
tough-boy look, his mouth half-open in a sort of determined, cocky grin. The
more I bucked, the more he started laying out over top of me. Finally, to still
my thrashing legs, he kicked them wide with his own. For his part, David
kept my arms stretched up and gripped my head firmly between his knees.
It was beginning to look like I wasn't gonna throw these guys off, so I
started shouting, "Stop, stop, stop."
Tap tap tap tap tap, came the answer.
"PLEASE stop."
"Have you learned your lesson?" Tap tap tap.
"Yes, yes, yes, I learned my lesson, now STOP." I was getting very
sore.
Cooper stopped tapping and settled his weight back on my pelvis,
wearing a cocky grin.
"Okay, then apologize," he said, his middle finger poised over my
chest, ready to tap.
"I'm sorry for untying your shoes," I said. Damn, he looked hot sitting
there grinning. My cock flexed under his weight. I am sure he felt it. And
there was nothing I could do about it. It was a mindless, free-ranging hard-
on.
"And you promise to never do it again," he added. He ground his butt
on my pelvis for emphasis.
"I promise I'll never do it again, " I said.
"Now apologize to my shoes," he said. Still sitting on me, he brought
both feet up and put them on my bare chest.
"I am sorry, shoes," I said, "I'll never do it again." This was starting to
get humiliating. I was starting to blush. And my groin surged. I was enjoying
this, except for the tender spot on my chest. I had a half-formed thought in
my head that I wanted to be told to kiss his sneakers, and then his feet. But
that didn't happen. Sean had his satisfaction, and he let me go. I had an urge
to untie his other shoe again, but my sternum was aching. I lay there for a few
minutes, recovering, with my boner ridging in my pants. He looked at me as
he tied his shoe. I watched the muscles in his forearm, the fine movement of
his fingers, and his sexy legs. I half-hoped, half-feared that he could see my
stiff pecker. David had been the quiet assistant through all of this, a simple
minister of justice. It might have gone farther if he hadn't been there.
**************************************
It was about this time that my mind flashed back on something that
happened several months earlier. It was me and Coop on one of our hikes in
the woods. We had just eaten a trail lunch and were sitting around when
Cooper suggested we jerk off. I was all for it, but didn't want to seem
overanxious. Coop was already shucking his shorts when I said, "okay."
Cooper dropped his underwear and sat on a log, starting to play with himself.
I sat on a log across from him and imitated him. After all, he had an older
brother who knew about these things.
Cooper already had a bush of pubic hair and a healthy slab of teen-
meat. My own wiener had grown to a presentable size by then, but was still
completely hairless. I was fascinated by his escutcheon of manhood and at
the same time I was a little embarrassed by my own bald horniness.
I particularly remembered Cooper stroking himself to hardness, totally
unashamed, a look of lost concentration on his face, and the stark radiance of
his boner in the forest shadows. I imitated his one-handed stroke, already
hard from the sight of him naked, and from the thrill of exposing myself. The
fact that I had no pubes made me feel even more naked, my knees spread
wide and my hips pushed out to the sky.
I watched in fascination as Cooper became a man possessed, tensing
and moaning, breathing hard, then shooting wads of white Cooper-cream
onto the ground. As he sat there recovering, I kept stroking my boy-boner.
And I kept looking at him, turned-on, awe-struck. My hairless balls
contracted and my teen-boy muscles tensed again and again, but no cum. I
was turned-on big time, on the edge of a dry orgasm, like a Fourth-of-July
sparkler blazing at the tip of my cock. I was totally rigid for hard-boy
Cooper. I sat there all hard and frustrated as he slowly pulled on his pants,
glancing at me impatiently. Finally, I pulled my own jeans over my still-hard
boy-cock while he watched. I was frustrated for 3 reasons: 1) I hadn't been
able to cum like a real stud could, 2) Cooper now knew I was still a boy,
hormonally, and 3) I wanted to touch his hard-on and check it out up-close
and personal, but just couldn't bring myself to do it.
About 5 minutes down the trail, I was negotiating a prickly branch
with both hands. While I was in this vulnerable state, Cooper yanked my
pants down to my ankles. My cock sprang up hard. "Still got a boner, eh
Mikey-boy?" he teased. I gave him a mad-dog look, which just made him
laugh. He flicked my hard-on with his middle finger. It stayed hard for about
an hour.
***************************************************
September and the start of school was not far off, but there was still
time for a few surprises before the end of summer. The first surprise was a
dream I had the same night that Coop and David wrestled me down and gave
me the Indian torture. That night I fell asleep fantasizing about Sean, as
usual. My breast-bone was still sore from the pounding it got that day.
Anyway, in the dream I was leaving my house at twilight, the sky a deep
indigo, and the dying light reflecting pink and gold and purple in the clouds.
As I was walking, I noticed a group of guys hanging around on the street.
They were in purple shadow, looking dark and brooding, a gang of street-
boys. Wild boys. Hard-boys. I was hoping to walk past them, looking
indifferent, but as I got nearer I had that dream-feeling that I was being
stalked.
In seconds they were all around me -- silent, strong and tough. They
grabbed my arms and legs and held me down. I struggled to get free but they
held me firmly. I had no leverage. They held my legs apart. It was all quiet
except for the sound of our breathing. Then I felt one of the guys start
tapping on my cock, through my pants. He just tapped on it over and over
again. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Just like Cooper had tapped on my chest
that afternoon. It went on and on. I got hard. I squirmed and writhed in their
grip. No matter how I moved, that tapping followed my crotch, stayed
constant on my hard dick.
I tried to push my cock to his hand, tried to get some sustained contact,
something to hump against. But it was useless. The more he tapped the more
I bucked. This went on for ages. My cock turned to steel, became the center
of my universe, aching for sustained contact. Suddenly the face of the street-
boy became clear. It was Cooper, grinning and tapping constant on my hard-
on. Then an explosion of light went off in my head a slow-motion
explosion of a million colors. I woke up, humping the air, spurting into my
sheets. My first wet dream.
Back then I kept a dream journal. It had been going on for over a year.
It was just an old spiral notebook with a blue cover, marked with doodles.
When I had this dream, my landmark wet-dream, I had to come to a decision
about putting it in the journal. The journal was private. Noone knew about it
except Cooper he only knew of it because I had let him look at it a couple
of times once when I had a weird dream, I let him read it, and then once
when I was explaining the idea of 'lucid dreaming.' In the end, I decided it
had to be in there. It was just too major to leave out. Suddenly, my dream
journal got a lot more interesting.
****************************************************
School started soon after that. Tenth grade. It put a bit of a damper on
my libido. I was a horny, cute little guy but I was also something of a brain.
Advanced classes and a heavy workload cut into my daydreaming. In some
ways it was a welcome relief I didn't have to think so much about the
possibility of being gay, or have the time to torture myself with impossible
fantasies. The nerds in my classes were not all that hot, which made it easier
to concentrate. Still, now and then I would bump into Sean between classes.
He was usually with someone. I would maneuver in the crowded hallways so
I could hang back and watch him, or even brush against him. And still, at
bedtime, I would fantasize hanging out with him, remembering him from the
summer pool-party, and feasting on his awesome body.
As it turned out, the daemon Sean was in my gym class, his locker next
to mine. Yikes! Cartwheels and back-flips! Showers were mandatory. But the
first few gym classes were a disappointment. Alas, Sean would cut out and
go to the team locker room to shower. At least I got to check him out during
gym class. He was a total jock. He was too small for football, but he was a
cross-country runner and an awesome wrestler varsity in 9th grade, and a
wrestling conference champion.
It was late September, after a gym class of dodge ball, shirts vs. skins. I
had to stow the gear after class, getting back to the nearly-empty locker room
and hurrying to make it to my next class. It also happened to be the day that
Sean made a surprise visit ... and showered with the masses. I wasn't
expecting it.
I was shirtless, untying my shoes, trying to loosen a knot, crouched
between my locker and the bench. Suddenly, I saw bare feet and water
dripping. I saw killer hairy legs. I looked up. It was Sean drying off, his black
hair all wet and disheveled. A thick patch of black hair in his armpit. Beads
of water glistening on his skin. I looked sideways at his muscled, hairy legs
and perfect feet as I fumbled with my shoe. He put one foot up on the bench.
I looked up .... and saw ..... his cock. Awesome. It was big 4 « inches
semi-soft kinda thick, about the diameter of a plump hot dog. Even his
balls looked muscled. They hung down, heavy in their sack He had a broad,
thick bush of tight-curled pubes. I was transfixed, crouching on one knee
before him. His glorious cock was about 1 « feet in front of my face. With
dry, parted lips, I stared. The seconds stretched on forever. I glanced up at
his face. Busted. He was looking right at me. Again.
He continued drying off. I had a problem. I had to take off my gym
shorts. In front of him. My mindless pecker was on the rise. And I was on a
schedule class change in about 3 minutes. I pulled off my gym shorts and
jock-strap, turning away towards my locker. This was when Sean decided to
get sociable. "Hey Mike, are you going to the football game this weekend?"
My pecker was up, past semi. "Yeah, I guess so, I don't know."
He moved next to me, watching as I fumbled in my locker for a towel.
My dick went totally hard in 3 heartbeats. He looked at it, raising his
eyebrows. My ears were glowing. "Looks like you got a problem," he said,
pulling on his underwear, looking serious. I held the little white gym towel in
front of my embarrassing boner. My heart was pounding in my ears.
"Yeah," I whispered through dry lips.
"You only have about 2 minutes to shower and get to class," he said,
breaking into a smile. Pause. Then he slowly reached out and grabbed my
hand .... and slowly pulled it away from my crotch .... uncovering my bone-
hardness. I didn't resist. I stood there naked, at full-mast, looking down at his
feet, feeling his eyes on me. My cock was totally hard, pointing straight up,
and I just stood there. For about ten long seconds. I dropped my hands to my
sides. My hard cock pulsed with my heartbeat. My whole mouth was dry. He
reached for my boner, just one finger on the very tip, pulled it forward, and
released it. It bounced in the air. "You better hurry, Mikey" he said.
"Yeah," I croaked. I turned and bolted for the shower, my stiff wiener
bouncing in the air. The showers were thankfully empty. I stayed just long
enough to get wet. When I got back to the locker he was gone. I dressed like
a maniac, commando-style. I ran off to class, half-wet and totally red-faced,
my turgid cock chafing in my jeans.
**************************************
The rest of that day was a blur, the locker-room scene playing over and
over in my head. I couldn't think. When I got home that afternoon I sat at my
desk with my homework out in front of me, but all I could think of was
Sean's amazing body, and the feeling of utter humiliation at being so totally
exposed to him, for him, and by him. Boner city.
I locked the door to my bedroom and took off my pants. I sat at the
desk and stroked and teased my already stone-hard cock. All-in-all, a very
pretty cock, a fitting cock for a pretty boy. About 5-3/4 inches hard, cut and
up-curving, with a tapered head. Now, it arched up hard over my belly,
pointing straight at my belly-button. Low-hanging balls. Smooth, hairless
balls. And, of course, my fledgling bush of lively dark pubic hairs. I looked at
it, thinking "this is how Sean saw me today." I stood before the full-length
mirror on my door, looking at myself, boy-pecker pointing to the ceiling,
feeling his gaze again. I was aching-hard I pushed my rigid rod downward
til it hurt, and held it there, right on the edge of pain.
I sat down at the desk again, and started writing. A letter to Sean. A
private letter, never to be delivered. A letter confessing how "straight-boy"
Mikey has the hots for hard-boy Sean:
Dear Sean,
You are my personal sex-god.
You are so hot I can't believe it.
I am so grateful that you are in this world.
I am so grateful that you saw me with a total hard-on for you.
I am so grateful that you touched me.
I need to be your sex-slave.
I will do anything for you. Whatever you ask .... Anytime .... Anyplace.
You are so perfect, so tough, so cute, so powerful, so cool, so fucking
hot.
Just ... being near you .... drives me crazy-horny.
I worship your body.
I crave your killer hairy legs.
I need to be your naked slave, kneeling at your feet.
Make me massage you.
Make me kiss your hard muscles.
Make me give you tongue-baths.
Make me lick your sweat.
Make me lick your armpits.... and your feet.... and your killer hairy
legs.... and your awesome hard chest ....
Make me lick your delicious balls.
Make me kneel naked at your feet.
Make me suck your wonder-dick, whenever you say.
Make me show you how I get a hard-on just thinking about you.
Make me cum for you.
Your slave boy, Mike
I knelt on the floor in front of the mirror, the letter beside me, imagining
myself kneeling at Sean's feet while he looked down at me. I imagined him
ordering me to beat off for him, to show him how queer I am for his hardness.
Telling me to wank my boy-boner for him like a good slave.
I sat back on my heels and stroked away. My meager manhood at his
command. I shot my wad high into the air, bucking and gasping. Cum ropes
shot onto my face, onto my chest, onto the floor, and onto the letter. I was
wiped out. Finally, I pulled myself together. I cleaned off the letter and tucked
it in my notebook the dream journal. I threw it in my desk. Now I could
finally get down to work.