Date: Sat, 16 Nov 2002 03:20:50 -0500 (EST)
From: Clark Gaybull <ClarkGaybull@webtv.net>
Subject: One of Many Escapades  #4

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AUTHOR'S NOTE - I'm certainly not endorsing the philosophy expressed
here. In fact, if you disagree wholly or partially and wish to express
yourself, I'm interested in your e-mail. Or, if you wish to express the
extent of your agreement, e-mail those sentiments. I hope that the
philosophizing doesn't detract too much from any positive effect of this
escapade. I know it spurred me on.
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				  PART I

When I was almost 17, I'd done a few things sexually. But there were
SOME things that I wouldn't even consider.

Later, I'm now a senior in high school and I'm much more open-minded. A
year ago, though, I didn't think, for example, that kissing was
something that two boys did. I also didn't like the thought of somebody
sticking something up my ass. If it made YOU feel good (except kissing),
I'd do it. And if it made ME feel good, even better. (But I didn't think
that kissing and buggering me would EVER make me feel good.) (That's a
little philosophizing.)

Fade out; then fade-in and we're at the bowling lanes. Now this is
something I REALLY like to do. I've been coming here with my dad for
almost a dozen years and half of that time I was strong enough to wield
a kid's ball. So, a lot of my allowance has been spent here for six
years.

Before I was 16, I would bum a ride to this place as often as I could
with kids who were old enough to drive. But eleven months ago - when I
got my own license and my folks splurged for the clunker - I was a
"regular" at the lanes most every Saturday night during winter.

That's how I met Rico, a real good bowler. Mostly I would shoot pool.
But when I was alone, I bowled.

Sometimes Rico's wife, Rosa, was with him. And sometimes Rico even
brought his 15-year-old niece, Ann, to the lanes.

I learned all this one night when I was assigned the lane next to his:
We were both alone and, extrovert that I am, several facts became known
to me via the conversations which ensued: His main residence was in the
city, about two hours away; he worked for the city during the week; but
on weekends, he usually visited his secondary place at the opposite end
of the county from where my folks' cabin was. He always brought Rosa to
the country; sometimes others, too.

As the Saturday nights passed, I began looking for him and he began
looking for me. Not that I was physically attracted to him, 'cause I
wasn't - his nose was real big and his forty-ish face was quite
pock-marked. But I felt kinda sorry for him and Rosa 'cause they had no
kids.

By now, whichever of us gets there first gets one lane for the two of
us. Once, in early April, the conversation turned to money. I complained
that I never seemed to HAVE any.

"How do you pay for the car?" he asked. "And the insurance? And the gas?
And billiards and bowlng every Saturday night?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "All I've got is the allowance." I thought some more
and added, "I mow some lawns, too. And sometimes I get paid for cleaning
somebody's car. And when it snows, I make money when I shovel. That's
it, though. Not enough. 'Course mom and dad pay if I can't."

"Get yourself a paper route."

"Gotta get up too early. Too much work for too little money. The news
company gets too much of the money and I gotta collect it."

We finished our final game. Then he says, "I know how you can make some
money."

"How?" I was all ears.

"Let's pay for our bowling first."

We checked out and he still didn't look like he was gonna say anything.

"How?" I resumed.

"How what?" He pretended to have forgotten.

"How can I make some more money?"

"I really shouldn't have brought this up," he confessed.

But I continued my badgering. "Tell me."

He paused one more time and finally said, "Okay. But keep this under
your hat.....pictures."

"Pictures?" I questioned.

"Yeah," he said. "I know this guy who knows somebody who'll pay for
pictures I've taken of Ann's 13-year-old brother."

He paused again. And I didn't say anything, either, trying to figure
this all out.

"You mean..." And he repeated himself.

"With clothes on, right?"

"Not at the end."

After much thinking I said, "Well, that's not for me," and was willing
to drop the subject with no more notions.

"Now you think I'm a pervert, don't you."

"No. It's just that...well...it's not for me."

"You don't know all there is to know."

"And I don't think I WANNA know."

Nobody says anything. Then, "Okay. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What there is to know."

(And here's where the heavy-duty philosophizing occurrs.) He said that
some guys LIKE to see naked young boys; that some guys might reach
"physical satisfaction", helped by looking at pictures. He said that
some of them might WISH that they resembled - or could do - what's
shown; that the photos might be enough to prevent things like
molestations, or whatever. Those who are just curious, or can't believe
what they're seeing are only "occasional customers," he called them.
Then he became less somber by concluding, "Also, there are those who are
so hard-up; they haven't had it for so long. Maybe they're bi-, and any
bare ass'll do. Or ugly. Who knows."

"And you're none of them," I half-asked/half-stated.

"Nope," he turned serious again. "Just wantin' to make a few extra
bucks."

We said our "good night"s and I didn't see him for a couple of weeks.
But my curiosity grew as I thought about what he said.

The next time we bowled, I was quieter than usual before asking, "How
much do you get for those pictures?"

"How much is your car payment?"

I told him and he joked, "Hell, You could make THREE of them."

End of discussion.

By mid-May, I had become bold enough to tell him that I might do it.

"Do what?"

"Pose...or whatever you call it."

"Well, first you gotta tell me that it's definite. Then we gotta figure
out when and where."

"Okay. Let's make it definite. For whenever you say. But I don't know
where." Then I said, "Wait a minute! I have an idea! We own this
place..."

That's right. Chalk another one up for something else that happened at
the cabin.

So that's how we get to this setting. Here's the rest of the story...

We set the time. But, when Rico was supposed to be there, the phone in
the cottage rang. Rico was lost. I had to meet him at a pay-phone
outside a nearby diner and he drove behind me from there.

We arrived at the bungalow and he followed me in. Around his neck he had
slung the case for the only object with him: a bowling-ball-sized camera
(of course, nowhere near as heavy).

"That's all you're gonna bring?" I asked.

"That's all I need. Battery is charged. I can pause the video. Then I
have a picture."

I offered him a drink and gave him the "minute tour."
We emptied our cups and I asked, "Whaddo we do now?"

"Roll the camera." he replied.

"Let's get going, then," I said, hoping for too little time for me to
back out. "Where do we do this? What's the way to start? How do I go
about this?" (I sounded as nervous as I was.)

"Just play to the camera," he coached. "Do whatever you wanna do.
Except, you gotta end up naked."

"Okay. Here goes," I said sheepishly. I danced around a little and
started to pull up my shirt.

"Not too fast," he cautioned.

Then I thought, "If I pretend to be doing something, that'll help me
with my actions." So, I made believe that I was preparing something to
eat, all the while taking my clothes off: first, my shirt; then, my
cut-offs; then (gulp), my undies. There I was - in the alltogether
(except for my sneaks) - hoping I was adequate enough.

I wasn't yet 17. Because I was blond, I had practically no body hair
besides on my head and around my pecker - and THAT wasn't very thick. My
dick was about four-and-a-half inches long and my skin was pale: I
didn't yet show my usual summertime tan.

I made sure to be seen by Rico from every angle. He was obviously
pleased when he proclamed, "Very good."

"Whew. I'm glad that's over," and I started to get dressed.

"Not yet! One more thing. The 'money shot.'"

"The 'money shot'? What's that?" I queried, while holding my undewear.

"You've gotta cum. You CAN cum, can't you?"

"That's a little personal, isn't it?" I protested, disregarding the
"personal"-ness of the just-taken video of me in the nude.

"Well, it REALLY seals the deal."

I continued to hesitate.

"It makes it more likely that he'll buy future sets of pictures," he
explained. "But, if you don't want to..."
More thinking. "Okay. Okay. I'll try. But we're gonna hafta go in
there," pointing to the bedroom, stroking my meat as we went, attempting
to get it to rise.

As I laid down on the bed, I began pumping my prick while Rico walked
around filming. Several times I thought I was gonna blow. But when my
legs repeatedly stiffened, nothing came out of my tool. "What a time to
be self-conscious," I thought.

I next started to lose my hardness and that's when I said, "I guess I'm
not gonna be able to do it now."

"Did you do it this morning?"

"Yeah. But a few hours have never mattered before."

"Well, that's okay, kid. At least I've got you poundin' your pud."

So, our first "session" ended with me feeling a failure. But at least I
got three car payments out of it. And, because it wasn't very late and
the lanes were on both our ways home, we bowled a couple of games and I
did real good.

Afterwards, I explained about replacing the bowling ball with the
baseball for the summer.

He said, "I hope we can get together next time I'm here. (June 11th)
That's the first weekend after school's out. I wantcha to meet
somebody."

"A Saturday? In June? After school's out? I'm not gonna be HERE. Come up
to the lake if you want. That's where I'll be. But not here. I'm done
with this place 'til fall."  Tirade over.


				  PART II

At this point, there's always some work that the cabin needs. So I tell
my folks that that's where I'll be and I'll be back before eleven.

June 11th is hotter than Hell, but it looks like an afternoon
thunderstorm is coming. So, I start to hang some ceiling tiles inside. I
didn't bring anybody else 'cause Rico said he was gonna introduce me to
Ann today. That's also why I kept my cut-offs on in spite of the heat;
otherwise, I'd probably be working in the nude.

I'm putting tile after tile on the ceiling, when I hear a car drive up.
It's Rico. And Ann. Or somebody who LOOKS LIKE Ann. But it's not her.

As they approach, I can see that Rico's companion doesn't WALK like a
girl. But he sure LOOKS LIKE a girl.

Pree-mo!!! They appear to have stopped at Mickie D's, 'cause each
carries two bags. A little early for supper. But I could eat that
fast-food anytime. Besides, I AM hungry 'cause I had only a couple of
pops all day.

"This is Manny," Rico says. "Ann's little brother. Did I ever introduce
you to Ann?"

"No. But I've seen her from a distance."

"Well, now you know Manny better than Annie."

I chuckled at his poor attempt at rap.

"We brought some eats," he boasted. "Want anything while this stuff's
still hot?"

"Sure," I said. "But this weather'll keep it from cooling off very
fast." And while I wolfed down some burgers, fries and a shake, I
learned all about Manny.

He was gorgeous - and that's a term which I usually reserve for the
female gender. Long, coal-black hair. Black eyes. Dark, latino skin,
accentuated by a tight, white tank-top that was too small 'cause it made
his slender mid-riff show. Around his waist he wore short blue gym
trunks and no socks so that his dark-brown running shoes frequently
squeaked     when he walked. I couldn't get over how the whispy growth
on his shins matched the silkiness above his upper lip - like an Italian
lady's moustache.

I found out that he lkes video games, not sports; boy-bands, not
country; talk-shows, not scary stuff; introverted and polite: Completely
opposite from me. But I already liked the short time in his presence.

Wait a minute! He was the one who Rico sold the pictures of! All at once
I saw Manny in a different light. But what WAS that light? Suddenly I
felt a stirring in my loins. Now I regretted being so grungy.
"Lemme take a two-minute shower," I said hastily.

And Rico just shrugged his shoulders.

I grabbed a clean pair of utility shorts. (That's what I call 'em 'cause
they can be used for so many things - shorts, underpants, swimwear.) And
I disappeared into he bathroom.

I hurriedly ran the COLD water over my body, but still would have passed
my mother's cleaning test, even though I washed so quickly. I was in the
bottoms in a flash, flung open the bathroom door, and had rejoined them
pronto, with droplets clinging to my bare chest and back. Drying myself
only perked up my nipples so that you couldn't tell if I was cold or
excited. ("Yes" would have answered both questions.)

I breathlessly stated, "There. That's better. What do you guys wanna do
now?"

Rico paused before he asked, "Do you want to earn some more car
payments?"

"You mean he wants more?" I meant the video-buyer.

"Yeah. And this time I brought help," smiling at Manny.

Now it was MY turn to pause. But - looking at Manny - it wasn't a long
pause.

"What about your camera?"

And he held it up, having brought it in when I thought it was one of the
bags of food.

"Did Rico tell you what happened?"

Manny had already removed his T-top, smiled mischievously, and said,
"Yes. But that won't happen again," as he licked his lips.

This kid really knew how to tease! While the T-top came off, I could see
the small, dark patches in his pits. But his chest and belly were
completely smooth. Next he took off his shorts and stood there only in
his running shoes, not wearing any underpants. (I hoped he didn't use
his running shoes now!) His pubes were just like his lower-legs, pits
and lip hair - jet-black but slightly more plentiful. His cock hung
there just perfectly - four inches of uncut splendor.

"Your turn," he rasped.

Even though I had just come out of a cold shower, watching him made my
dick hard. So it sprung up when I uncovered it. "I'm ready," I joked.

Very good at choosing his words, he said, "I see."

Now, in spite of my prior opinion about kissing, I thought I'd explode
because of what he did next. He came toward me, put his hands on my bare
shoulders, leaned up at me and seductively put his open mouth on mine.
And the action didn't stop there. He pushed his tongue between my lips
and moved it around until he found my own tongue. Without thinking, my
tongue pushed forward and a passionate session of French-kissing had
begun.

Rico's camera was whirring just in time; only today, it was like he
wasn't even there.

Motioning toward the bedroom, I whispered, "We better go in there before
I lose my legs."

His penis had stiffened. It's head was beyond it's fleshy sheath. We
fell on the bed, face-to-face, with him under me, resuming our kissing,
dicks dueling; rubbing; grinding. It feels so good!!!

What the...!?!?! His belly's all wet!!! Fuck!!! I shot!!! Three weeks
ago I couldn't cum. Today, I can't hold my cum!!! Totally out of
control!!!

"Did you get that?" I asked Rico.

"I couldn't see what was happening down there," he said.

"Oh, there's more where that came from," cooed Manny. (He's always uses
the right words.) He stood up, with gravity doing its thing to my spunk
on his tummy. To the bathroom he scurried and wiped himself off with my
wet towel. He brought the towel to the bedroom, wiped me off and said,
"Now where were we? Oh yeah." And he began tonguing my limp peter. How
did he know all this stuff? Must be the city environment.

Anyway, when he restored my boner, he flipped his legs around so that
his own stiff prick peeked at me.
I had never sucked a dick before. But, until this afternoon, I had never
kissed a dude before, either. And kissing him made me cum. So I thought
I'd continue with my firsts. And I plunged his rod into my mouth. I
recalled some of the more pleasurable blow-jobs I'd received and tried
to duplicate them: lots of spit; watch the teeth; plenty of movement,
both with the hand and into the back of the throat. I must have been
doing it right because, finally, I got a less-than-voluntary reaction
from him, even if it was just some moans. (With him slurping my own
stiffening member, I'm sure plenty of moans came from me, too.)

Since I had just cum, I, at first, didn't think that THAT was gonna
happen again soon. But as this wild-child kept going, I became less
certain. I continued to sense the propriety of my motions: His breathing
became panting; his panting became gasping. I felt the tension of a dong
that was about to erupt. So I removed my mouth, leaving abundant saliva,
and continued to jerk, getting ready to watch. I retreated just in time
to see several squirts fly past my shoulder, accompanied by a very loud
shudder.

The sucking on my own penis surprisingly intensified, and, less than
sixty seconds later, I was orgasming for the second time in twenty
minutes. Orgasming, I say, because Manny left his mouth quite
voraciously in place. If I produced any liquid the second time, he
swallowed every drop of it.

I had entirely forgotten about Rico until he exclaimed, "WOW! THAT WAS
HOT!!!"

"He oughtta like that!" I panted.

Manny and I had another "session" that Labor Day weekend - before school
resumed. And two more liasons THIS year. But, to describe those three
couplings might be redundant. Suffice to say, they were all equally
intense.

I don't wanna bring you down, so, I'll say only that Manny and Rico
probably won't be in my future.

But I think I've come up with a couple of more reasons why guys look at
guy photos: They wanna see how they compare to others of the same
gender; and they wanna find themselves. Those are among MY excuses.

Although, thanks to Rico (and Manny), I got fifteen car payments,
sixteen months have gone by and I still haven't seen those pictures.

They're probably so hot that they've melted.