Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 09:43:36 -0800 (PST)
From: Sleepy Snoozer <sleepytales (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: Sleeping Eddie and Me, Part 01

Sleeping Eddie and Me---Sleepers, Part 01
By:  Sleepy Snoozer

sleepytales at yahoo dot com

DISCLAIMER:

This is my story; don't steal it.  Don't read it if you're underage...or at
least try not to get caught.

I write other stories under other pen names.  The stories I write using
this pen name will mostly be about sleeping...and sleepers...hence the
name, duh!

One story posted recently is called "The Placebo Effect", also in
Adult-Youth, mid March, 2004.  Check it out and tell me what you think of
that one, too!

Please do write me with story ideas, maybe your own experiences along these
lines.  I have the feeling that there are many sleepers...and
sleepees...out there!  Let's have some fun!


Sleeping Eddie and Me, Sleepers, Part 01


I have known Eddie since he was in 6th grade and I was a sophomore in High
School, when I got hired to baby-sit him.  I know, I know...but please give
me a little credit!  I managed to resist temptation when he was 11 and I
was 15.  So he and I were buddies for almost a year before the events of
this story took place.  Our birthdays were within a few weeks of each
other.  He had turned 12 and I had just become 16, with the new Driver's
License to prove it.  I had been the same age when I had been introduced to
certain activities, and I figured, what the heck.  So I decided to try
giving him a little of the same joy.  NOT when he was awake of course!  But
when he went to sleep, and thank God he was a heavy sleeper.  It was often
said that crashing a truck into the wall of his bedroom wouldn't wake him.
I hoped not.  See, I had never had sex with anybody when we were both
awake.  At least not that anybody else ever admitted to, at any rate.  Yup.
You got it.  My entire sex life had taken place when I was pretending to be
asleep and the other guy either was really asleep or also faking it.
Weird, huh?

Let me explain.  I was an avid watcher, of course.  I watched him like a
hawk, and it wasn't just because I was being paid to look out for his
safety.  I was saving up all the images for the internal slide show I would
run while I jacked off later on.  You know what I mean...I watched for
anything I could catch a glimpse of.  I was already a past master of both
the sideways look and a well-studied passing glance, where you can see many
things but not be noticed staring. Looking out for those precious glimpses
of underwear above the waist of his tight jeans (this was before the days
of baggies and boxers). Looking for suspicious bulges in front and the
delightful bubble butt behind. Watching out for close-ups of the little
dark hairs on his legs, more like feathery down than true grown-up leg
hair.  Saving up glimpses of the nape of his neck and how he looked when he
was stretching like a cat on the sofa.  Loving the occasional nipple
flashes when he wore muscle tee shirts.  Living for those few moments I was
able to watch him run around in his tightie whities just after bath time
and before jammies ruined the view at bedtime.

He was certainly worth watching.  Carefree as a bird, cute as a button, all
boy and totally un-self- conscious.  Normal looking, not a stunner in the
reckoning of the rest of the world.  But his personality shined like a star
out of his flashing blue eyes, and I was drawn to his beauty and style like
a moth to a flame.  He was thin and rangy, already beginning to stretch
upwards in preparation for adolescence.  His voice wasn't cracking yet, but
neither was it entirely in the piping register of the young boy anymore,
either. When he spoke, it was sort of husky and dusky, if you know what I
mean.  His hair was so black it was almost blue in the intensity of direct
sunlight.  Just a bit of curl to it, so it bounced in the breeze as he
whizzed through his daily life. He had a shadow of soft downy pre-mustache
beginning to show itself on his upper lip.

Eddie seemed unaware of the impact he had on me, which of course is just as
well. I mean, what 12 year old in his right mind would have appreciated
knowing that his High School baby-sitter was lusting after him and that he
was the object of a lot of my jerk-off fantasies?  It would have been too
much to hope that he might be intrigued or turned on by that.

So I suffered delighted agony when I was with him.  And my excitement rose
as bedtime approached.  Ever since I'd joined Boy Scouts when I was Eddie's
age, I'd known what it was like to put my wandering hands to work after
lights out when the sleeping bags were lined up next to each other in the
tents.  I'd been shown the way by somebody older than me, of course.  Timmy
was the first one, I think.  He was a randy 14-year-old Star Scout assigned
as my Patrol leader. On our first camp-out together, I was pleased that he
wanted me to sleep next to him.  I thought I must have been doing well.
Little did I know how well I was doing!  Sometime after the campfire had
burned down to nothing, I awakened to his chilly fingers groping my
barely-pubescent package inside my long johns.

I'd loved it, but then I'd blown it.  I moved, thrusting myself into his
hand and letting him know that I was awake and loved what he was doing.
That evidently was a BIG no-no.  But how was I supposed to know?  There
weren't any rules written down in the Boy Scout Handbook covering
sleep-time groping, were there?  No, there weren't.  So, Timmy had
immediately stopped what I loved having him do, and straight away yanked
his hand out of my shorts and back into his own sleeping bag.  I rolled
over and tried to return the favor.  In fact, I had never wanted to feel
anything more than Timmy's dick right then, but he shrugged me off and
turned onto his stomach.  So of course I had stopped.  You always have to
stop if they protest.  So I'd drifted off to sleep, confused and horny and
frustrated for the first time in my young life.

And then I'd been awakened again a bit later that same night with the same
hand groping around again in my stuff!  YAY!  Thank God Timmy was so
persistent...and so horny himself.  I suppose it means I was already a perv,
welcoming being interfered with like that.  But welcome it I surely did.
Molest me...PLEASE!

I was a fast learner.  Timmy was pretending to be asleep when he was the
groper.  I was supposed to be asleep as the gropee. OK.  Got it!  I tried
not to move while he got both our rocks off.  I tried not to groan too much
in pleasure as he humped me thru the thickness of both our sleeping bags.
Of course, I was too young to spurt jizz at that age, but I sure had a
toe-curling dry orgasm, which evidently it was ok to shake and shiver my
way through while I was still "asleep" according to Timmy. And Timmy must
have soaked his shorts for sure, because he also groaned a bit in my ear as
he panted his way to bliss.

I loved every minute of it, and I now knew the rules.  He never
acknowledged what we were doing, although he surely knew that I wasn't
really asleep.  So I learned to do the same, and never tried to change the
system.  I learned to sleep next to the guys I liked.  I learned to be the
SLEEPER as well as the SLEEPEE, so to speak.  Most of my fun times in Boy
Scouts happened in the dark! You could do practically whatever you wanted
as long as you weren't caught doing it; as long as you weren't caught out
being awake and never ever talked about it or tried anything when you or
the other guys were walking around in what I came to call vertical mode.  I
could only play in horizontal mode, if you see what I mean.  It was like
two completely separated worlds, and never the twain would meet.  Sleepers
all, and each "sleeping" our way to sexual satisfaction in ways that
evidently were never possible when either party was awake.  Weird, but
whatever.  It preserved their hetero view of themselves, I suppose, since
nobody ever acknowledged it.  Sort of like an early teenage version of the
famous, "God, I was sooo drunk last night I don't remember a thing..." Yeah,
sure, whatever!

Needless to say, I loved every night of Boy Scouts. I never had one sexual
experience when I admitted to being awake, and nothing ever done with me or
to me was ever done by another "awake" boy either.  I learned to apply
these rules on Youth Group retreats, school trips, and anywhere else where
I had the chance to sleep next to cute guys.  I never pushed anything if
there was even a hint of resistance.  If they said "No", or if they acted
out a NO in body language, then it was no.  I always stopped if there was a
no.  But you might be surprised at how few negatives there were.  Boy,
those guys must have been heavy sleepers; every one of them!  Yeah, sure,
whatever!  But more of those stories later, if you want to hear them.

Meanwhile, back to Eddie.  You can see why I endured all the agony of the
waking moments, and why I also prayed for his folks never to come home that
night.

Luckily, Eddie's folks were quite the party animals, and they had an active
social life that kept them out late several nights per week, so I got all
my spending money needs met with my cash flow from them.  No boy ever loved
his job more than I did sitting Eddie!  And Eddie never minded being left
by them, as long as I was there to keep him entertained.  And believe me, I
was a TERRIFIC baby-sitter.  I spoiled him rotten, and he loved me.  I, of
course, was in love (or was that lust?) with him as well.  I could deny him
nothing.

After supper (which he had to eat all of, including the vegetables,
otherwise I would have had to use the infamous tickle punishment), it was
time for TV or a video.  Tonight it was TV, although I was mandated to
bring videos regularly.  Eddie loved movies, and he loved to cuddle as we
watched the scary ones that were his favorites.  He knew I protested
violently and pretended to be terribly "grossed out" if he tried to cuddle
while he was still in his clothes, so of course, he had already showered
and put his jammies on.

This is not one of those stories where the baby sitter and the boy get it
on.  I wish it were! I wouldn't run the risk of grossing him out by perving
on him openly, so for the same reason I resisted the urge to feel him up
under the blanket during the movie. Well, except for accidental brushes
with heavenly places from time to time.  But who can be blamed for those?
So I sure was suffering a major case of blue balls from the hours-long
hardon I had while he was nestled next to me.

He was groggy as the movie ended.  He always was: his little body clock
always seemed to wind down at the same time every night.  So we played the
carry me to bed and tuck me in game, which I of course cherished as one of
the highlights of my day.

Plus he almost always demanded a back rub until he fell completely asleep.
I swear that was not my idea in the beginning.  It was all him, I swear.  I
wouldn't have thought of it on my own, since it had never been part of my
own previous experience.  But I sure loved giving them to him.  He seemed
to toss and turn heaps unless he got his back-rub, prostrate on his tummy,
arms and legs flung akimbo on his bed.  I kept my rubs light as a feather
under his pajama top at the end when he was asleep, and never let my hand
stray anywhere below the waist.

Not until he was snoring, that is.  He had the cutest little snore, I
swear.

But this time, the massage would be different, I hoped.  His thin body was
so warm, his flesh so tender as I pressed my hands and fingers over his
shoulders and back.

He softly hummed, "Ohoo, that feels so good," as I kneaded his back.  I
skipped over his butt for now. But I promised myself I'd concentrate on
that pretty soon!  I pressed my hands into his thighs and legs, then down
to his feet. Eddie was purring and I didn't want to disturb his reverie.  I
gave his legs and feet long rubs with both hands as I moved my face closer
to his ass, loving his boy smell and wanting to touch and kiss everything I
was looking at.  On my way up to his back I gently rubbed each cheek over
his pajamas.

No reaction. Good.

Back again now to his legs, more boldly pressing my hands into his ass
cheeks on the way. The purring seemed a bit louder, and I was encouraged.

On the trip back I concentrated on his butt, rubbing every part of it more
and more sensually.  He responded at least twice that I noticed by gently
pushing his ass up into my hands.  Good!  I returned to his back and
shoulders with renewed hope and horniness as I ministered to his muscles.

I was now straddling him on the bed as I returned my hands more vigorously
to his butt and then back down his legs.  On my path upward, my fingers
reached under him slightly.  Another of my little tests to see if he
protested this teeny invasion.  He didn't. I couldn't believe how soft, yet
firm, his ass cheeks were.  I fondled and rubbed and caressed them, having
stopped paying any attention to the rest of his body at all.  He seemed to
be drifting off to sleep just like he normally did, so no danger signs
still.  So I began to occasionally permit a thumb to enter his crack.  It
was slightly sweaty and damp there and felt so good. No complaints.  I had
never been so forward with my wandering fingers before.  My heart was
beating about a thousand times per second, I swear, and pounding in my
temples.

I had become very good over the years at telling the difference between
sleep breathing and almost asleep breathing, and there is a difference.
Eddie slipped into sleep in less than ten minutes.  His breath was deep,
rhythmic, and slow.  I slowed my back-rub (well, now it was really only an
ass rub, but never mind...) to almost no movement at all, and there was no
protest.  The muscles on his face pressed into the pillow were slack, and
his lips were parted slightly.  I had never kissed anybody before, but I
wanted to right then.

My heart was continued racing at fever pitch even though I kept everything
else to a hushed slow motion pace.  My mind was full of nervous questions.
Should I turn off the bedside table lamp?  No!  I wanted to see what I was
doing, so I took the added risk of remaining in the light.  Although I
loved being astride his torso, and my rock-hard dick was getting a good
rubbing on his bubble cheeks. But nonetheless, I shifted to the side, so I
could see and reach and not have to twist my own body too far.  Something
else that might wake him up.

I was ready for the next step.  I was as scared as I was excited!  My hand
moved south, and once again cupped the butt cheek nearest to me on the bed.
Not a quiver from Eddie.  So I felt free to feel him up some more.  Have
you ever felt a boy's softness in that spot?  Even beneath two layers of
light cotton (his briefs and his pajama bottoms), I knew I was near to
Heaven.  Then I slipped my hand under the elastic waistband of his PJ's.
It was warmer there, and I was closer to the Holy Grail than before.  Eddie
took a deep gulping breath, and I could feel his butt cheek clench and
grind down into the mattress just a little bit under my touch.  I froze as
I considered running from the room, but he didn't awaken any further.

It was time for the next step.  Slowly, I adjusted my position beside him
so I was lying on the bed next to him, our bodies almost touching.  My head
was swimming, because I had never actually been beside him like this
before, other than once in a while on the sofa.  Gradually I insinuated my
hand under the second elastic barrier between me and skin.  I wriggled my
fingers ever so slightly and I was in!  His underwear wasn't too tight, and
allowed my hand without any protest.  I was feeling his actual bottom.  It
was warm; a bit damp in fact.  And silky soft.  I loved it.  I stopped
moving, and just enjoyed what I had already achieved.  My other hand had to
adjust my own throbbing dick inside my jeans.  My shorts had somehow caught
it so that it was pointing southeast and hurt like a son of a bitch.  What
a relief it was to straighten it out (so to speak)!  Blood flowed even more
fiercely into my cock as it was freed up, and it was harder than it had
ever been, this side of orgasm at any rate.

Eddie started in his sleep, like he'd had a little electric shock.  Of
course, that sometimes signaled a wake- up, so I froze again.  But I didn't
risk removing my hand from where it was pressed into his ass.  The
retreating movement might have awakened him more than just leaving it where
it was, and besides, I REALLY didn't want to move it anyhow!  And other
than mumbling a couple of incoherent words, he didn't wake any further.

But he did do something that I wouldn't have tried to do to him.  He
shifted onto his side, his butt to my crotch.  And of course, I simply
followed his motion, and also turned more onto my side as well.  All of a
sudden, he was nestled like a spoon against me.  And now my hand on his ass
was in the way.  So I removed it, and Eddie pushed his butt backwards into
my crotch.  He seemed to grind it a few times, making himself comfy,
possibly.  But I was certainly more aroused than ever...Oh my God, what this
boy could do to me!

I was breathing as softly as I could, because I didn't want to tickle his
ear or his neck.  But I nestled my face into the nape of his neck and hoped
for the best.  And he still didn't wake up!  Cool!

And as gradually as I could, I moved my hand to his chest...I wanted to go
for the gold right away, naturally.  But I played a little game of delayed
gratification with myself, and decided to save his crotch for last.  Of
course, feeling Eddie's chest under his pajama top was no big sacrifice,
let me tell you!

I only had that one free hand, the other being scrunched up underneath us
both.  Hey, you can't plan for every contingency, can you?  But one was
enough.  Hell, most of my best work had been done one- handed.

And if you didn't just laugh a little at that, then you're a really cranky
so-and-so, aren't you?

Anywaaay...I couldn't resist Eddie's chest.  Not chiseled, not muscle bound,
but firm and solid enough to prove that he was an all-round athlete.  He
just liked swimming and running more than he liked football or wrestling.
I loved to feel him breathing in and out.  His abdomen fluttered a little
when I passed my hand over it the first time.  Probably a little ticklish,
so I hardened my touch just a bit.  You have to learn to adjust to these
little things, right?

His legs straightened and stretched.  I froze once again.  But nothing else
indicated that Eddie was anything other than fast asleep.  And that's an
interesting term, isn't it?  I mean, where did the cliché "fast asleep"
come from in the first place?  There wasn't anything fast about it.  Not
unless the term was coined by somebody like me, that is.  Well, it's a
theory.  Think about it and get back to me!

I must have spent about half an hour enjoying the pleasures of Eddie's
medium-sized torso under the caressing touch of my hand.  I was almost in
dreamland myself.  And he slumbered on.  The only change was that his
little nips got pointy and hard as I caressed them.  But that could just
have been a physiological response, and not have anything to do with him
liking it.  But in my fantasy, he was loving every minute of it.  In my
mind, he was shivering in pleasure, and urging me on to bigger and better
things.  So I accommodated him.  Well, I accomodated me, that is.  OK,
then...both of us!

As my fingers softly strummed his baby six-pack, I couldn't help rocking my
dick into his butt.  I hoped it felt more like a rocking chair to him than
humping.  And I tried to time my caresses and the humping to go along with
the rate of his breathing.  Somehow, I thought that would feel more natural
to him should anything strange seep into his unconscious musings.  I have
no idea whether any of that is accurate or not.  Just telling you how it
seemed to me at the time, is all.

And so I couldn't make myself wait any more.  My wandering hand wandered
further down his body.  I played with his innie navel for a bit, but didn't
want to risk tickling him so much that he woke up.  And then, almost
reverently, my fingers touched the Holy of Holies.  The fly of his pajamas
wasn't gaping open, but neither was it shut firmly against me.  One finger
traced the opening with a touch as soft as a feather.  There wasn't a huge
hard-on.  I was sure it wouldn't be huge anyhow, as that wouldn't really
fit the proportions of the rest of his body.  But I did feel the slightly
coarser cotton of his briefs.  And the ridge of the fly opening on those.
Haines, I think they were.

There!  There it was.  Soft as a silken worm, I traced its outline inside
his undies.  It gave under my touch, and wasn't hard at all.  It also
wasn't confined too tightly, and so fell naturally downward over one thigh,
pointing at the bed he was laying on.  Tucked over what I thought at first
to be a tidy ball sack.

But no!  As I explored a bit further, I had to poke a bit between his damp
thighs to feel his balls at all.  They were nestled up there, and not
hanging down at all.  Oh my God, I breathed softly to myself!  Just as I
had suspected from peeks in the bath...that ball sack had an incredible set
of danglers.  Danglers are what I call a very low-hanging set, which in an
older man would become pendulous.  But for now, his nuts would hang lower
than his pre-teen prick would if he were standing up.  And I have to say,
that turns me on like an electric jolt.  I have no idea why.  I've read
extensively since those earlier years in psychology and the science of
sexuality, trying to figure myself out, but I never have.  I don't know
why, but I love low hangers more than any other kind of balls on the male
form.  In more recent years, I have come to love how they move inside the
scrotum all on their own when the rest of the body is aroused, and I lust
after the sight of balls raising upwards almost into the base of the prick
when the guy they're attached to is just coming.  The balls go up...the toes
curl...and Vesuvius erupts.  I love it.

OK, where was I?  Right!  Eddie's balls.  As I thought about them, I had to
feel them better.  In my most daring foray yet, I pulled his whole body
backward into mine, and prodded one of his feet so that it was laying over
one of mine.  And lifted it up just a bit.  And voila!  His thighs
separated a bit.  He sighed and settled again, but that was it from our
young Master Eddie.  And I was free to pinch his ball sack gently between
two fingers and ever so gently pulled it away from his crotch.  Sure
enough, those delightful nuggets followed right behind, and sank inside
their folds of skin downwards.  His ball bag was now, just as I suspected,
hanging lower than his dick.  And the whole package fit perfectly into the
palm of my hand.

Have I just spent half page writing about a sleeping boy's beautiful balls?
Yup, I have.  Didn't think I had that much to say about the subject, did
you?  Well, I surely do!

My soft humping resumed right about then, I have to admit.  Cupping my
perfect boy's perfect jewels in my hand was as close to Heaven as I had
ever been until then.  I lay there, barely twitching my fingertips,
exploring the surrounding territory with minute gestures.

Eddie heaved another sigh, and started snoring softly.  A beautiful sound
to me, indicating that everything was right in the world.  And then I
noticed something else.  My fingers weren't the only things down there
twitching.  Oh no, there was something else.  Eddie's dick was waking up,
even if the rest of him wasn't.  Very slowly, in miniscule shivers and
twitches, his dick began to swell under my fingers.  I couldn't believe my
luck!  I had the opportunity to measure it in every stage from flaccid to
fully erect.  It took about a minute, I guess.  And I only had to help it
along a little bit, so that it didn't catch in anything.  Soon it was
pointing toward his belly button inside his briefs, and had left his
low-hanging danglers behind.  It wouldn't all fit in my palm anymore.  But
I wasn't sad about that!

See, there was much to learn about Eddie's dick.  I hadn't been completely
sure if he was cut or uncut, for example.  And now I knew!  He wasn't.  I
could tell that much from manipulation beneath his undies.  But his pajamas
were becoming annoying: the opening now tight against my hand, almost
cutting off my circulation.  So I took another risk.  I unsnapped the fly
of his pajama bottoms.  Open sesame!  And they were no longer in the way.
Just one layer between my fingers and Eddie's Finger of Joy.  I spent many
minutes simply pinching the head of it softly between my thumb and
forefinger, so that it would pop into and out of his foreskin.
Pop...in...pop...out.  Pulse of blood in his veins and more intense feeling
for me as it became more aroused beneath my fingertips.  Better not play
with it too hard, or disaster will strike.  Back to the balls then.  Hardly
second best.  And his dick still twitched and pulsed even though I was only
touching his balls now.  Ah, he likes his balls then?  Cool!  Something
else we have in common.

I have to say that my humping was becoming less and less like a gentle
rocking chair.  I couldn't help it.  Could you, if you had a gorgeous boy
with a hard-on draped across the front of you, dead to the world and putty
in your hands?  I think not!  I was getting closer and closer to spurting
my approval of the evening's events.  My fingers became more insistent and
more urgent on Eddie's goodies.

And then he stopped snoring.  I froze, nothing moving except my twitching
dick and my ragged breathing.  Eddie was breathing normally, as far as I
could tell, but something seemed different.  Beneath my frozen fingers
which remained splayed on Eddie's hard-on and cupping his dangling balls, I
could feel the tiniest of pelvic movements.  It wasn't a pelvic thrust by
any means.  More like a pelvic twitch.  Very subtle.

But all of a sudden, I wasn't the only one rocking on the bed.  Eddie was
moving, too.  Just a tiny thrust upward against my hand, and then an ever
so slight grinding back into my dick as it tried to crawl into the crack of
his perfect ass. Teeny little movements, which I'm sure weren't even
visible to the naked eye.

And the basic problem with this form of intimacy came up and bit me right
on the ass.  Was he awake or not?  Were these movements involuntary, or
were they calculated?  I couldn't break the rules and ask, could I?  I
wasn't going to whisper in his ear and see if he answered, was I?  No, I
was not!  After all, if he was asleep, that was that.  And if he was now
awake, he was likely playing by the sleep rule.  God knows what would
happen if I asked him to decide if he was going to continue playing along
while awake.  No, I couldn't test for it.  All I could do was decide
whether to keep on or to stop.

What would you do?  I have to say that I wasn't good at stopping this close
to the precipice.  So I decided to keep on.  My fingers continued to play
on Eddie's stuff under the soft cotton of his white undies, and I resumed
rubbing myself against his ass.  But I worked at timing it according to the
thrusts coming from Eddie's loins as well.  And they were now a bit more
pronounced.  His breathing became deeper.  His leg muscles stretched as he
tried to find some more solid purchase to thrust himself into.  His hard-on
throbbed under my fingertips, and his balls weren't hanging so low in their
sack as before.

And just when I was about to burst, Eddie astonished me again.  Scared me
to death at the same time.  But suddenly, he took a shuddering deep breath
and put his hand over mine on his crotch.  He pushed it more firmly and
urgently into his crotch than I had been doing.

And a soft whine came from low in his throat.  It sounded needy.  He
sounded like he wanted something more.  And just then, he pulled the
elastic of his undies out and away from himself, and my hand was all of a
sudden cupped against actual skin.  I was touching him directly!  And the
elastic waistband snapped back into place, trapping my whole hand inside.
He continued to hold it against himself, and his thrusts were now more
pronounced than ever.  His breaths became gasping groans, and I was now
just along for Eddie's ride.  I was no longer the one pulling the strings
for myself!  And then his whole body erupted into orgasm.  You know how it
is when pre-teens can't produce cum, it's almost as though their entire
bodies make up for it somehow.  It seemed like every muscle in his body
tightened and let go all at once, and a moan escaped from deep inside of
him.  His little dick was hard as a rock and thrumming with electricity one
moment, and then throbbing the next.  Three times, four times, more.  He
ground his pelvis into my hand, every bit of himself tight as a wire, and
then he was limp.  All of a sudden, he was just a damp and sweaty boy
mannequin, no independent movement in him anymore at all.  His breathing
went from ragged to serene once again, and his hand dropped back to the bed
from where it had forced mine to remain in his undies.

I discovered that I had missed my own cumming, but could feel the clammy
dampness seeping into my own underwear.  I wasn't quite as hard as I had
been.  And the thoughts racing through my mind weren't at all
post-orgasmic, let me tell you!  They were full of panic and fear as well
as excitement.  What would happen now?  Would he "wake up" and call his
parents?  Would they call the police?  Would he not do anything now but
wait until the next day to drop the bombshell, after I went home?  That
would be the safest route for him, after all.  He wouldn't have to deal
directly with me about it.

I had never in all my night-time adventures had evidence of such obvious
orgasmic pleasure from any of my "partners."  Nobody had ever had an orgasm
except for Timmy that first time, and of course me all the times since.
But nobody that I ever played with responded like Eddie had just done.  Oh
shit...talk about your greatest fantasy being your greatest nightmare all at
the same time, or what?

As all these thoughts raced through my mind, my cum continued to seep into
my balls, and my hand continued to unconsciously rub and pet Eddie's dick
and danglers inside his undies.  His nuts were distended as they had been
earlier, and the dick was only semi-hard.  Sort of like mine now was, I
thought.  And he seemed to be sleeping like a baby just like before.

I lay there, getting my own breath back, and considered my options.  What
should I do?

There were no options really.  Playing by the sleeper's rules, I just had
to let him keep on sleeping, if that's what he was doing.  Or pretend to
sleep, if that's what it really was.  Those were the rules, and they bound
us both if he was awake.  The rules bound only me if he was truly asleep,
of course.  So, that was it, then.  I slowly and carefully extricated
myself from Eddie's undies and his bed.  I softly re- arranged everything
as if I had never been there, and remembered to fasten the snaps on the
front of his pajamas.  I snuck from the room after turning the lamp off,
and left the door open just like always.

And Eddie never moved the rest of the time I was there that night.  His
parents came home about 3 am, and I was dozing on the sofa when they
arrived, just like normal.  There was the usual chitchat as they paid me
and I went home.  I showered the crusty cum off my crotch, and continued to
worry about what would happen.

That was Friday.  On Saturday, I drove past Eddie as he was shooting hoops
in his driveway, and he waved and grinned at me just like he always did.
On Tuesday when I got home from school, my heart lurched as I saw a message
to phone Eddie's Mom.  But she was just confirming the next time I was
scheduled to stay there, which was Thursday night.  No warning of disaster,
nothing outwardly different.

But everything was different inside my head, that's for damn sure.

So.

Does anybody want to hear what happened on Thursday night?  Let me know.