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Samesex/summdrm1.mb
Summer Dreams - 1
Chapter 1. First Sightings
It was summer and in the low 90's outside. The evening just
beginning to cool down after a long hot day and it was the first
time I saw Dylan. It was at the ice cream shop. I'd walked down one
evening with my son and the boy was sitting at the table next to
mine. He was with another boy, maybe a year older, and two girls.
From their appearance, apparently neither of the girls were his
sisters, and from his lack of interest, I assumed that they were
not girl friends either. I guessed that one of the girls might have
been his friend's sister. But it was Dylan that interested me, not
that I knew his name then. He was what could only be called
beautiful, the kind of beauty that one turns or stops to watch, the
kind of beauty that is unnatural in a boy. He was blond headed, his
hair long and slightly curly, bright golden strands bleached by the
sun. He was slender, and from what smooth flesh was exposed, seemed
to have a nice even tan. He was short but with a beautifully
proportioned body, probably a few inches under five feet, and if I
had to guess, probably not much more than eighty pounds. As I sat
there eating my ice-cream I thought that he couldn't have been much
older than twelve. There was a natural and youthful grace about
him, but it was his face that struck me the deepest; his finely
sculpted features, almost too delicate to be a boy, yet
irresistibly so. I glanced over at him again and again, absorbing
the aura that he seemed to exude, there was a liveliness, a youthful
vitality, a quick grin, a playfulness that made me want to know him
better. He was dressed in long shorts, almost to his knees, a long-
sleeved checked shirt, with the arms untidily pushed upward, almost
defying the heat.
That was the first time and every day for the rest of that
week I scrutinized the ice-cream store on my way home from the
university, hoping to see him again, but each time I was
unsuccessful. The next time was about a week later. We'd just
joined the local swim club and I'd taken my son for his swimming
lesson. I sat back in a chaise-longue watching the pool, absorbed
by the lean bodies of the young swim-team boys, dressed only in
their brightly colored Speedos, as they practiced diving, swimming
and generally enjoying themselves.
That is when I saw him again, but he wasn't swimming. Again,
in the heat of the afternoon, he was playing basketball with his
friend, dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts, his golden
blond hair mussed up and sweaty. He moved agilely, shooting hoops
with ease, even though he was still quite short and the hoop was a
long way up. Compared to his friend he was outstanding, his
movements far swifter and reflecting his much greater agility. Half
hidden by the hedge, I sat back in the chaise-longue, waiting for
brief glimpses of my blond-headed boy as he jumped and ran around,
darting back and forth. Finally, the basketball game ceased and the
boys settled down to a game of ping-pong. Again, my blond-headed
boy ruled the day, returning hit after hit with seemingly little
effort. Then as my son's swimming lesson finished, I took over,
making him practice by swimming the short length of the pool. It
was traumatic and after a few minutes he had to break for a pit-
stop. I got out with him and went myself. On the way to the
bathrooms we passed the ping-pong table and for a brief moment I
watched him yet again, almost unable to take my eyes away from that
beautiful young creature. After I'd been to the bathroom I came
back to the fence that divided the play area from the pool area and
I stood there, leaning against the fence, watching the boy play
ping-pong, hoping that my son would take his time.
Finally, his swimming lesson over for the day, we left by
going the long way around the pool. I hoped to see the boy up close
one more time that day. He was still playing, still moving quickly,
almost with the same high energy level he'd demonstrated earlier
on the basketball court.
Another day or two passed, every minute at the pool I watched,
hoped, and prayed that he would arrive, but without success. Then
the third day, as I sat back on the chaise-longue, he sauntered up
to a chair on the other side of the pool, dropped his bag and
removed his long-sleeved shirt, revealing a beautiful slender torso
with an even almost-bronze-colored tan. This kid was something
else, the pool was crowded, the temperature was in the low-to-mid
90's and he was wearing a long sleeve shirt, possibly even flannel,
but from where I sat it was impossible to tell. He kicked off his
shoes, picked up his swimming costume and headed off to the
changing room. For a moment I thought about following him, perhaps
faking a trip to the bathroom, wondering whether I'd get a glimpse
of his naked body, perhaps even see .... I waited too long, he came
back, sauntered over to the chair and dropped his shorts and white
jockeys into his back and then walked casually to the diving board.
His swimming costume was blue and cut like shorts. It was very
different to the narrow Speedos of the swim-club boys, which
exposed almost as much as they covered.
In that brief walk to the diving board I absorbed him, his
legs were lean and slender, browner at the ankles and legs. Then
past his knees, the tan faded slightly, I supposed as a result of
his long-length shorts.
At the diving board he stopped for a moment, as if focusing
his attention, concentrating his energy, then, a few quick steps,
and an animal-like spring high into the air, a somersault, and he
sliced into the water with barely a splash. This boy could dive.
He emerged, his blond head now dark from the water, shook it
briefly, then with one or two powerful strokes reached the side of
the pool. With both hands on the edge, he lifted himself up, coming
easily to his feet in one graceful, seemingly effortless motion.
Then again and again he dived, some dives smooth and graceful
and obviously very familiar to him, others not as well-practised,
and just a little bit awkward. It was as if my eyes were riveted
to this startling boy, absorbing his every move, until my son's
lesson finished and he startled me by silently coming to up to the
chair and dripping on me. I got into the pool with him and again
we practiced his short-laps, back and forward across the pool.
When he needed a break to get his breath, I held him and as we
watched the boy diving, I told him that maybe one day he'd be able
to dive like that. Finally, our practice session was over and we
got out of the pool and towelled off. As we left, we went the long
way, close to the diving boards. Just feet away, I watched the boy
climb out of the pool, saw his slender lithe body, the bronzed-
brown tanned chest, nipples that were so small that they were
nearly invisible, the clear indentations of his ribs, a flat brown
belly grooved by firm strong muscles, a small indented belly
button. Then he took a few steps and leaped upwards, doing a double
somersault and then rocketing down into the water. For a moment we
stopped to watch him as he emerged, swam to the side and climbed
out, then another dive. My son said something but I didn't hear
what. It was as if the world was closed, my attention focused on
the beautiful young boy. Unable to find the courage to stay longer,
I ambled out of the pool area, taking just one longing look back
at the diving board. I didn't see him and I guessed that he was
still in the water.
Another day or two passed before I saw him again. Each time
I walked to and from work I looked for him, eager and hopeful of
seeing him in the ice cream shop though I knew that the chance of
seeing him there again at the precise time I walked by was very
unlikely. When I saw him the next time it was totally unexpected.
It was 5.30 pm and I was walking home from the university. I would
pick up my son and with luck I would see the boy again at the pool.
As I neared my house I saw a person walking down the street, coming
towards me. At first I thought it was a young woman, then a girl,
then as he came closer I realized who it was. Still dressed in
shorts and a long sleeved shirt, I tried to focus all my thoughts,
to capture a lasting image as he passed beside me. Too brief, not
much more than a glimpse, not enough to be lasting, but in the few
seconds that he was only a foot or two away, I saw that he was a
very beautiful boy. I guessed that he was on his way home from the
pool, carrying a bag casually, not smiling, but not unhappy. I
should have turned to watch him as he continued on his way, perhaps
he'd turn as well to look back at me, surely he'd sensed the same
magnetism that I felt. But then, why would a beautiful boy,
probably not much more than twelve years old, be interested in
grown man in his early forties. But at least I knew that sometimes
he came my way, perhaps he lived close to my house, perhaps within
a few blocks, perhaps I'd see him more often, perhaps.... But why
hadn't I seen him before.
The next day I saw him again at the pool, sitting on the rear
deck of the pool-house by himself. He looked lonely, as if waiting
for someone and I supposed that he was waiting for a lift home.
Perhaps that was why he'd walked the previous day, his lift hadn't
arrived for some reason and he'd been forced to walk home. He was
still dressed in a long-sleeved shirt. In the barest instant that
I saw him, I thought his eyes met mine, then quickly look away. Was
it my imagination, that a look of recognition flashed across that
beautiful young face, the merest glimmer of a smile.
The days passed slowly after that, for nearly a full week I
didn't see him, every day I looked for him where ever I went. Often
at the pool I'd see a blond-headed boy who seemed to be about his
size. I'd watch him continually from my chaise lounge unsure that
it was "my boy". As I left, or went to the bathroom, I'd come closer
only to find out that it was someone else. I was disappointed then,
but also glad because these other boys always seemed to have lots
of friends around them. Each day brought new hopes and further
agony. Each night I dreamed (fantasized) about the boy, pretending
that we'd become intimate friends, pretending conversations,
imagining playful tickles and rough-housing with him.
Then on a Tuesday afternoon I went home early to do some
painting on the garage. By about 2.00 pm I was working on the front,
closest to the street, when I looked over at the other side of the
street for no reason at all. There he was. He looked in my
direction, but he was too far away for me to tell if his eyes had
met mine, too far to tell if he'd smiled, just far enough to see
the glistening golden blond head turn away as he continued on his
way up the street. I watched him, breathing out slowly with a
longing sigh. What would I have given then for his affection, even
just to speak to him. I was dirty and covered with a film of white
paint-dust, dressed only in an old pair of grey-green shorts. Then
he turned, and for another fraction of second, he looked back at
me again as he continued walking. And then he was out of sight. The
time was just after 2.00 pm and it was obvious that he was on his
way to the swim club, carrying his bag over his shoulder, still
dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts.
Chapter 2. Introductions.
Wednesday, 2.00 pm, and every few seconds I glanced around,
searching the street for a sign of the boy. Minutes pass, long slow
minutes that seem endless. This time I was painting, rather than
sanding. I was hopeful, no desperate would be a better word for
what I'm feeling. He's late, he's not coming, he went by earlier,
he's gotten a ride to the pool, he's.... I went back to work, still
glancing back at the street, no sign of the boy. Then I saw him,
this time he was on my side of the street, which was unusual since
there is no footpath. I turned to watch him go past, praying for a
sign of recognition. Then he was opposite me, only twenty five feet
away. Still walking, he turned his head, his golden hair glistening
in the sun. There seemed to be a tiny smile form, he shook his head
abruptly as his eyes met mine (already I know they are blue, like
the afternoon sky). The boy is incredibly beautiful, I wanted to
say something, anything, but no words came out and I stared at him
dumbly. He began to turn away again as if to cross the street and
I raised my eyebrows in a pleading, desperation and breathed
outward heavily, a long noticeable sigh of longing. Almost to late
the boy stops, the smile widened and flashed across his face. In
that instant, unable to stop myself, I waved. He didn't return my
salute to his beauty but he smiled still more, then began to turn
away again. I watched him as he crossed over the street, my eyes
drawn irresistibly to the boy's small firm buttocks, imagining them
so smooth and soft under his shorts, sighing with regret, so close,
so untouchable. In the middle of the road he looked back over his
shoulder and saw me still watching him. This time he returned my
wave of recognition, went few more paces then stopped, turned
around and smiled as he looked directly at me. He came closer, until
he was only a few feet away. He was still smiling, his perfect teeth
unbelievably white.
"Hi", I mumbled incoherently, trying to swallow, trying to
breath as I looked down at him from the ladder.
"Hi," he grinned playfully, his eyes flashing as they looked
into mine. "Awfully hot for painting, isn't it?" he observed. His
voice was higher pitched than I would have expected, the nervous
tremor as present in him as it was in me.
"You're not wrong about that," I said stupidly, "I'd much
rather be at the pool."
"Yeah I'm headed that way now," the boy grinned.
"So I see. So I see." I observed, frantically trying to think
of something else to say to him. I wiped my forehead with the back
of my hand, smearing white paint across my head.
"Heh, look out, you're painting yourself," he giggled, his
blue eyes flashing with the life and vitality of uninhibited youth,
his golden-blond hair glistening in the hot afternoon sun.
I laughed with him, the few seconds bringing instant relief
into my aching heart, wondering, hoping that the boy felt the same,
but knowing that he could not. After all he was a kid, just a kid,
maybe twelve, maybe younger, why would he be interested in me I
thought. "I guess I'll see you at the pool huh. I haven't seen you
there for quite a while now," I blurted out.
The boy reddened slightly as if embarrassed, "Huh?" he said
awkwardly, "You've seen me there? At the pool?"
"Huh huh. 'bout a week ago, I watched you diving. By the way
you dive beautifully. Some of the dives where you somersaulted were
incredible."
"Yeah! Thanks, I... I guess I do okay on some... a few...like
my back somersault.... kind of need a lot of practice," he said
hesitantly.
"I thought you were great," I added with conviction.
The boy smiled, "Your little girl is swimming better."
"He's doing even better now than when you last saw him Last
week we started doing laps. He's up to three now and getting out
of the dog-paddle mode as well."
"I know, like I said, he's swimming a lot better," the boy
said. Then suddenly, he realized what he'd said and he looked down
at his feet.
"Huh. But I didn't see you 'round the pool this last week," I
said matter-of-factly, then I too realized what I'd said.
The boy smiled shyly as he looked up, "Yeah, well .... I
watched from up on the deck..... I didn't feel much like swimming.
You probably didn't see me up there."
I grinned back at him and shrugged, "I guess we'll see you at
the pool latter today?"
"Yeah I guess so. See you later," he smiled, as he turned away
and started back across the street. Just before he reached the
other side he turned and waved. I grinned happily and waved back.
That afternoon I couldn't get to the pool soon enough. As
soon as my father-in-law dropped him off I bundled him inside and
we went upstairs to get changed. I took the Corvette. Even though
I still needed to fix the cooling problem, it was only a few blocks
and I figured that I needed the ego boost. I didn't see the boy
until we were in the pool area, he was playing basketball with
another boy, shooting the occasional hoop, as he moved with an
elegant grace around the court. He noticed me and tried to wave,
missing the ball as he lunged upward and nearly loosing his balance
at the same time. He came down hard enough to break or sprain an
ankle but it didn't seem to slow him down as he twisted to one side,
then, with what seemed an effortless motion, jumped backward, spun
around and went after the other boy who now had possession of the
ball.
I took my son into the water for his warm-up practice swim,
we still had about ten minutes until the instructor arrived.
Unfortunately, once we were in the pool, it was impossible to see
the basketball court. The ten minutes passed slowly, then we
climbed out as the instructor came over to the side of the pool. I
walked over to the chaise longue we had staked out with our towels
and dried off before I sat down. The boys had left the basketball
court and I scanned the area trying to see him. There was no sign
of a boy that looked even remotely like him. Perhaps he was in the
changing room, or upstairs getting a snack, or... any one of a
thousand places. I wondered if I should go for a walk around the
building, perhaps he was on the front deck, where I'd seen him once
before. Perhaps he'd gone home. No, not that, I decided, knowing
that he was around somewhere and that sooner or later he'd be back
where I could see him.
I settled out on the chair, trying to be patient but feeling
a desperate longing build up inside me. While there were a few other
boys around the pool none of them were worth watching, not after
him, not after I'd spoken with him. I watched my son swimming, he
was by far the best of the bunch now, a very different kid from
when he'd cried and shrieked when I first let him go in the water.
About ten minutes passed before I sensed the boy's presence just a
few feet away. He was dressed in, yes you guessed it, the long-
sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up his slender brown arms and
shorts, but his feet were bare. He had approached very quietly and
I was startled. He smiled even as I smiled at him. All I could get
out was, "Oh! Hi."
The boy grinned cheekily, "Did I startle you?" he asked.
"Yeah... you did. Well I made it to the pool" I said.
"So I see. You got the paint off too," he teased playfully,
"The last time I saw you there was more paint on you than on the
garage."
We laughed, "I was a bit of a mess, wasn't I. It's pretty messy
when you paint up in the air, when the paint drops off the brush
it goes all over you."
We looked at each other silently, thinking of what to say
next.
"You going to do some diving?" I asked.
The boy shrugged, "Maybe later on."
"You want to sit down here?" I asked nervously. I thought I
heard my own voice tremble, just like a teenager asking for his
first date. The boy shrugged again, momentarily sucked his bottom
lip pensively, and then shrugged his shoulders again nonchalantly.
"Yeah, I guess," he said as he dropped down onto the chair
beside mine.
There was a moment of silence, then I said, "Heh, my name is
Alex, what's yours?"
The boy grinned, "Oh," he answered in surprise, then as if he
had to remember, hesitated before he said, "Dylan".
"Happy to meet you Dylan", I smiled, reaching out with my
right hand toward the boy. What a perfect name for such a perfect
specimen of a boy. Dylan hesitated, unsure of my outstretched hand,
he swallowed nervously then he said awkwardly, "Oh, hi!", as his
right hand reached outward me. That first touch was unforgettable,
the boy's hand was warm and small with a slight moistness, his
fingers seemed strong as they gripped mine, the skin was incredibly
soft compared to my own. I glanced down at the boy's hand held in
mine, then when I looked up, I met his eyes with mine. The boy
smiled shyly, almost embarrassed by shaking my hand, then he looked
away. I wanted to linger, to keep on holding his hand, but I knew
better, and I released him.
"She's doing hisarms much better now," the boy observed.
I looked over towards my son, "Yes he is, isn't he. It'll be
a long while before he can swim as well as you though."
The boy grinned back at me, his perfect teeth were a pure
white, his lips were dark and passionately shaped. His eyes
sparkled, they were a pale blue, like the sky at the horizon, his
eyebrows were fine lines a little darker than his hair. "So why
don't you do laps while he's having a lesson?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh, I don't know. I guess it's more fun sitting here and
watching people," I mumbled, after all I could hardly tell Dylan
that I sat there waiting to see him.
Dylan smiled, "I think I'll go for a swim. So do you want to
do laps with me," he asked.
"Huh? Oh! yeah, if you want to", I said, then added, "You'll
have to go slow though."
Dylan laughed as he leaped to his feet, "Okay, I'll be right
back, I gotta change first," he called back as he half-walked,
half-ran towards the changing room.
A few minutes latter he was back, dressed in the same blue
swimming costume that he'd worn the last time, the time when I'd
watched him diving. "Come on," he grinned. For a few all-too-brief
seconds I feasted my eyes on his body. He was the epitome of
boyhood, his body was lean and lithe, but not skinny, with firm
muscles that rippled under his delicious brown skin. There was a
golden lustre, a glow of youth and vitality that emanated from him,
an absolute perfection of proportion and contour. My eyes began at
his head and rapidly traversed down in a well-remembered glance.
The boy still had the body of a young boy, without the changes of
late pubescence, his shoulders, though well muscled, still sloped
downward, there was a beautiful slenderness to his torso, a narrow
waist and ribs that were clearly defined with tiny nipples, nearly
the same color as his well-tanned chest and almost
indistinguishable. A gentle depression began at this through, led
downward to mark the center- line of his chest, then became the
taut muscles of his belly. His perfect symmetry was accented by a
small navel that was indented, and partially covered by a little
fold of soft skin. His stomach muscles finally tapered into his
swimming costume as it covered his groin. There was a small fold
in his costume, accentuated by the slenderness of his hips and
waist that hinted at the presence of his genitals beneath. For a
moment I considered if the fold in the nylon reflected how big he
was or whether it was merely incidental. Even as I lifted my eyes
upward I wondered whether the boy still lingered at the beginning
of puberty, the absence of a larger bulge in his swimming costume
and the fact that he seemed so slender and smooth-skinned suggested
that he had not begun to mature. He smiled slightly, almost shyly,
as if aware of my concentrated gaze, and I smiled back.
We walked over to the lap pool. Luckily the far lane was unused
and we took up positions, Dylan on the diving stand and me standing
beside him at the edge of the pool. "On your mark,... set... go",
he said, as his lithe brown body sprang forward like an arrow. I
had a momentary glimpse as he rocketed into the water, before I
followed him. Of course I knew that there was no way I could keep
up with him, he moved gracefully, brown slender arms sweeping
through the water with unexpected power, demonstrating (showing
off) that he as much fish as he was boy. I swam as fast as I could,
but he still pulled away, further and further until he was more
than two lengths in front and that was before we reached the other
end. Dylan turned with a somersault, then breached the surface as
I came up to him. I caught a glimpse of a big grin as his face came
out and before it went back into the water. He swam a few more
lengths then stopped, now almost four lengths in front because of
my clumsy turn-around. He swam lazily, breast-stroking, as I came
up.
"Like I said, you'll have to go slow, real slow," I laughed,
playfully splashing water at him. "You're a lot younger than me."
The boy grinned as he splashed me back, "You're a great swimmer,
maybe I should hire you to teach my son how to swim." He smiled as
I added, "So champ, how old are you anyway?" I added.
"Twelve,... just, 'coupla weeks ago," he said as he began to
breast-stroke faster, pulling away again. He slowed again almost
as soon he had demonstrated his fish-like skill again. His body was
so slender that the water seemed to offer almost no resistance, he
didn't swim, this boy slid through the water with practically no
effort. After that Dylan swam next to me, or just a few feet in
front as we did lap after lap. A few times out bodies touched and
I felt what might be described as "electricity", though it wasn't
a shock, just a wonderful tingling sensation that made my heart
rate go up a few notches. Every so often we'd break from free-style
to breast-stroke and then we'd talk. Dylan seemed to open up to me
in the water, it was as if the water washed away his inhibitions
and by the time we'd finally climbed out I knew that he was an only
child, he lived with his mother, he didn't remember his father, and
he was changing schools in the Fall.
I would have gone on swimming next to the boy until I was too
weak to move but my reverie was interrupted by seeing my son
standing next to the pool, obviously hislesson had finished. We
climbed out and I introduced Dylan, almost proudly. With the nylon
of his wet swimming costume clinging to his thighs and buttocks I
had a tantalizing view of his boy-genitals. Even though that part
of his young body was contracted from the cool water there was a
small, but prominent bulge, not an erection but from the shape of
his penis outlined beneath the wet nylon. I fancied that I could
see the tiny ridge that formed at the little helmet-head. Of course
that would mean that the boy was circumcised..., his penis seemed
to protrude, sticking outward slightly as if lifted by his balls.
It was only with the greatest effort that I finally dragged my eyes
away.
In the next few minutes I saw a new and wonderful side of the
boy as he led my son off to the other pool and I watched them
splashing and laughing together. He did cannonballs into the water
with ridiculous motions, he dove and swam between hisoutstretched
legs, floated on his back then gradually submerged, and a dozen
other antics that left both of them giggling. I joined them and for
the next thirty minutes we played and romped without a care in the
world. But best of all was when Dylan climbed up on me so that his
feet were in my hands and then leaped up and outward as I lifted
up as hard and fast as I could, doing back-flips with seemingly no
effort at all. It left me feeling very close to the startlingly
beautiful young boy who had just come into my life and it left my
son in a fit of giggles.
All too soon it was over, Dylan had to get dressed and meet
his mom at the gate at 7.00 pm. As we climbed out and towelled off
he looked at me shyly as he asked, "You guys coming here tomorrow?"
"Huh, yeah I guess so, but you'll have to promise to swim
slower," I teased playfully, knowing that our friendship had grown
to the point where he'd appreciated my company.
"Great, I see you round six, okay, in the lap pool," he
grinned, as he started towards the exit gate.
I sadly watched him leave, then turned to my son as he said,
"I like Dylan. He's nice"
"Huh, oh yes, he's a nice kid isn't he," I replied with a smile
as I added, "I met him while you were having a swimming lesson."
We left shortly afterwards, there didn't seem to be much point in
staying any longer.
The next day we were back at the pool right at 5.30 pm. There
was no sign of Dylan and I felt quite sad. I'd thought of nothing
else except him since the previous evening. That morning I'd laid
in bed dreaming of the boy as I masturbated feverishly, fondly
remembering his perfect beauty, the smoothness of his lean brown
body, the small bulge in the wet nylon of his swimming costume, his
infectious grin.... My son and I practised hisswimming,
concentrating on getting hishead into the water, then out again
after three strokes. It was only after half an hour, when hislesson
was scheduled to begin, that I became aware of someone else, and
as I swivelled around, saw Dylan standing at the edge of the pool
watching us. Unlike the previous day, he'd discarded his blue
swimming costume in favor of the brightly colored Speedos that the
swimming-team boys wore. It was low-cut or maybe a size too small
for him, the nylon barely covering his pubis, his genitals forming
a small rounded bulge.
"Hi Dylan," I grinned, "looks like you're going to beat me
again today, huh?" I said.
He grinned back at me as he shrugged, then stepped forward to
the very edge of the pool as if he was going to dive in. Instead
he dipped the toes of one foot into the water, as if to test the
temperature, then kicked quickly sending a spray of water over me.
I laughed as I splashed him back, the water droplets glistening on
his smooth brown legs as they trickled downward. I sent my son off
to the other kids already gathered at the shallow end of the pool,
then climbed out. Dylan grinned cheekily, "So, let's go for a swim,
what are we waiting for?"
We went over to the lap pool and repeated the events of the
previous day, only this time Dylan seemed less communicative. I
found out only a little more about him. Like me, his mother was an
associate professor at the university, but in 'romance languages.'
I teased Dylan about what the language of romance was, but my feeble
joke seemed lost on him.
Finally I asked the boy what the problem was. He was silent
for nearly a minute, then answered, "I told my mom about meeting
you. She said it probably wasn't a good idea. Like I shouldn't be
talking to strange men at the pool. I told her you were married,
'n had a kid, and you were nice, but she still wasn't happy with
the idea. She didn't want me to come today."
"Oh! Well I guess she's right you know," I answered, "if you
were my son, I'm not sure I'd want you to go around talking to
strange men either."
Dylan grinned then playfully splashed water at me. I stopped
swimming and stood up, brushing the water from my face, "If you
like, Dylan, I'll come out with you when she picks you up this
evening. That way she'll at least know who I am," I offered.
"Would you? I,... I think that'd help, if she knew you," the
boy said gratefully.
I wondered then whether he'd fought with his mother, perhaps
even disobeyed a direct order when he'd come to the pool. Perhaps
his mother sensed her son's unusual interest, my affection for her
very attractive son being inappropriate.
After we'd completed a few more laps it was nearly 6.30 and
when my son came to the side of the pool we climbed out. I glanced
down at Dylan's body, but was disappointed to see that while the
taut nylon was clinging to his thighs, it revealed little more than
his other swimming costume. When I looked up I realized that the
boy had noticed that my attention has been focused on his groin. I
smiled and raised my eyebrows inquisitively, then asked, "So Dylan,
does the reduction in friction offset the increase in turbulence?"
"Huh?" the boy replied.
"Are they any faster than your blue costume?" I repeated.
"Yeah, I s'pose they don't drag as much," he answered.
"Well they look good on you," I observed as I wondered whether
the boy heard the excited tremble in my voice or realized that I
could barely drag my eyes away from his narrow thighs and the small
rounded lump that bulged from between his slender legs. He didn't
say anything as he towelled himself dry with brisk hard rubbing,
then he looked down at me as I sat on the chair to put my shoes on.
"Thanks for coming to meet my mom," he said. "She's probably
waiting outside for me now. I better go see her before she get's
mad at me."
"Well come on then," I said, getting to my feet and, taking
my son by the hand, followed Dylan out to the car park. By the time
we had reached the gate Dylan was forty feet in front, and he went
over to the side of a car that was stopped in the drop-off area.
His mother was attractive and blond-headed, just like her beautiful
young son. She was driving a cream-colored convertible with the top
down, a Volkswagen Passat, a car which looks remarkably like a box
on wheels. Dylan went to the passenger side and spoke to his mother
for a moment. I could see her talking to him, then Dylan said
something back to her. She nodded and the boy twisted around, and
beckoned to us to come over.
My son and I walked up and Dylan smiled slightly, shyly,
apparently embarrassed by having to introduce me to his mother. I
took over, nervously reaching over the door to shake the woman's
hand. "Hi, my name is Alex, Alex Weston," I said as I smiled as
reassuringly as I could, "And this is my son, Kelly."
"Hello," she said, still uncertain, then paused for and
instant, "I'm Diane Brady."
"Dylan tells me you're at the university. Associate professor,
Romance Languages right? I guess we've got a lot in common, I'm an
associate professor in automotive design and engineering."
"Oh! I didn't realize, he didn't say anything about you being
at the university too. Dylan wants to be an car designer when he
grow up, don't you honey?" she said.
The boy looked surprised as he turned to me, then he nodded
awkwardly, looking away from me as he answered 'Yeah, I guess so."
I realized that he'd suddenly become very self-conscious, then
I realized it was probably because his mother had called him
'honey' in front of me. I grinned at Dylan playfully, "Well I hope
so, he certainly is bright enough. Your son can swim like a fish,
I can barely keep up with him even when he swims slowly. He's even
been helping me teach Kelly how to swim."
"I hope he hasn't been a nuisance," Diane said uncertainly.
"Dylan? Hardly, he's a great teacher, my son listens more to
what he says than he does when I say it. I hope we'll see him here
tomorrow evening?"
"I, well I suppose so. That's up to Dylan. If he's not
bothering you?" she replied.
"Great", I smiled, "See you tomorrow Dylan, say round 5.30
again?"
"Huh? Oh yes, I'll be here 'bout then. I'll see you tomorrow,"
he said as he opened the car door and slid down into the bucket
seat. We watched them drive off and I hoped that Dylan would turn
around or wave but he didn't.
Chapter 3.
The next day I was sitting in my office working on the computer
when the phone rang. I was about halfway through the design of a
rear spoiler using a simulation program I'd developed a year ago
and I didn't like the interruption to my work. The phone rang again,
persistently so I scooted my chair over and away from the computer
and picked it up. The voice was on the other end was a woman's and
for an instant it was unfamiliar. "Hello, is this Professor
Weston?"
I was surprised because I thought that I recognized the voice
and for an instant I didn't say anything other than "Yes?"
She continued, "This is Diane Brady. I'm Dylan's mom, we met
yesterday?"
In a flash all my fears came at once, she was calling to tell
me to keep away from her beautiful young son. I swallowed,
nervously, hesitated a moment and then said, "Oh, hi. It was a
pleasure to meet you."
"I just wanted to call and say that I'm glad we met yesterday.
I hope I'm haven't interrupted anything. Dylan's talked a lot about
you. I must tell you that I wasn't at all happy with him hanging
around with strange men at the pool."
"I'm glad we met too, Mrs... Ms... Brady. He's a great kid,"
I said honestly.
"Call me Diane, please. Well I just wanted to call and say...
well that I feel that Dylan's in good hands. Well good-bye..." she
tailed off.
"Diane, it's nearly lunch time, perhaps I can meet you for
lunch," I said quickly.
There was a brief hesitation on the other end then she said,
"Yes, yes I think that would be a good idea. I'd like to. I don't
know anyone that I can talk to about Dylan. He seems to really like
you."
I breathed out in relief, my fears dispelled. "I have a
meeting this afternoon at 1.30, we'd have to go now. The faculty
club is open, can we meet in the foyer in say ten minutes?"
Ten minutes later I was standing in the foyer as Diane
entered. "Hi," I said, "I've already got a table, non-smoking
okay?"
The woman smiled, "That's good. I'm afraid I'm a few minutes
late, it's been hectic this morning. I'm working on a book and the
publisher wanted me to fax back some galleys."
"I know the feeling," I said, leading the way into the dining
area and over to the table. We didn't talk as we scanned the menus,
then ordered salads and ice teas. Finally Diane looked up at me and
breathed out, "Whew, it's nice to slow down for a while. So much
for the easy life of the academic."
I grinned, "Books are always a pain in the neck. They're more
work than they're worth. With publish or perish, I think I'd take
the latter."
Diane smiled, "Maybe. But seeing your name of the front cover
is always nice."
I laughed, turning around as our ice teas were placed on the
table. "Thanks", I said, then turned back to Diane, "I'm sorry that
we have to rush lunch."
"That's okay. I have to get back myself, but I did want to
talk about Dylan. Perhaps you... well maybe you can help."
"Sure. I doubt if I can, but fire away."
She looked down, "Right now Dylan's going through a difficult
period. He's always been a sweet kid, now he's just difficult."
"As his age he's probably starting to go through puberty. It
does that to boys sometimes," I replied. "All those extra hormones
are something of a shock."
"Maybe but I don't think so. Not yet anyway. He's always been
a loner, maybe one friend or two at the most. About a week ago he
had a fight with his best friend. Now he just mopes around. I've
never seen him this depressed. I don't know what on earth has gotten
into him. He's a very sensitive boy. Usually we can talk, but now
he's started to clam right up."
I shrugged, "Kids go through a non-communicative stage too. I
remember I did. I was probably a few years older than Dylan."
"No. It isn't that. I really thing it's a much deeper
problem."
"Maybe," I agreed. "Why don't you tell me more."
"I don't know how to start, maybe at the beginning. Dylan's
father left just after he was born, so... well Dylan's never known
his father. I haven't married again. I guess... well I guess I don't
want to go through it all again. Anyway, Dylan's... I don't know
how to put this... I suppose he needs a father... He needs a... a
role model." The woman looked up at me expectantly.
I nodded reassuringly, "Probably does. He's at that age isn't
he."
She smiled and shrugged, "It's kind of hard for me to do the
kind of things with him that he needs."
I smiled, "I s'pose so. Don't you know someone that could take
him on. Aren't there any men in your department into camping,
fishing, and football?"
Diane looked up, "If you knew...," she began to laugh. "The
only one that isn't married is gay. I mean really gay, not just
open about it, he flaunts it. You might even say effeminate. I don't
think he'd know a football from a baseball, and as for camping, I
shudder to think."
"Not exactly the kind of role model for a twelve year old boy,
huh?" I acknowledged.
Diane nodded, "Not exactly. It isn't that I would hate Dylan
to be gay. I don't think any mother wants that for her son, but if
he is, well... I certainly don't want him to be like Adrian."
"So what you want is a rugged masculine guy?" I teased.
Diane started to laugh, finally relaxing, "Yes, something like
that."
"You know there are Big Brothers for that kind of thing," I
suggested.
"I know. I even suggested that to Dylan a week or two ago. He
got very angry at me for suggesting that one."
I smiled, "Well, I don't know what to suggest.
"Dylan really likes you a lot. He told me all about swimming
with you. He's as happy as he's ever been. You're good for him, he
needs someone like you. I mean. well if you could spend some time
with him, I think that's what he needs."
"I guess so," I said, trying to hide the joy that welled up
inside me. "He's a great kid. My son likes having him around too.
It's someone to play with, even if he is a 'boy'."
Our lunch arrived and for the next twenty minutes we ate and
talked, sharing the problems that confront the faculty of any one
of a thousand universities in the country. Finally, just we stood
up Diane looked at me seriously, "You know, I'm glad Dylan met you.
I think you're going to be good for him."
I smiled and shrugged, "I'll see him at the pool this
afternoon I s'pose?"
Diane nodded, "That was his plan at breakfast. One thing?"
"Huh?"
"I don't think that Dylan should know that we had this talk.
After the way he carried on when I suggested that he get a Big
Brother, well... he might not like me interfering with his
friendship with you."
"I think you're right. I'm sure we'll get Dylan back to his
old self", I added as we walked into the foyer. I glanced at my
watch, just five minutes to get back and print off my notes for the
meeting, "I'd better run. It was nice seeing you again. I'll see
you 'round campus," I added as I headed out the door, my heart going
about twice its normal rate.
That afternoon and the next I met Dylan at the pool and we
swam our customary laps. Each day the boy seemed to get friendlier
and more at ease. After our swim we would rough-house in the water,
tossing the eighty pound boy high into the air, diving down in the
ten-foot-deep section of the pool chasing the plastic rings that
my son tossed in, splashing each other in a fit of giggles. The
following week it rained two days and it wasn't until Thursday that
we got to the pool. The sky was broken by fits of angry grey clouds
that threatened rain but we still went to the pool.
Almost as soon as we parked the car and entered the pool area,
Dylan sauntered up and grinned. He was wearing his Speedos again
and nothing else. I ran my eyes down and then up his body in silent
admiration. God he was beautiful, and sexy too. Every day since
that first time together in the pool I'd masturbated with ever
increasing frequency, always thinking about Dylan. By now I was
past the point of no return, ready to take any risk, if the reward
was Dylan. Instantly I started to get an erection and I casually
lifted my leg up onto the chaise longue to hide it. Gradually it
faded as I forced my mind to concentrate on anything else except
the beautiful, nearly naked boy next to me.
After commiserating about the lousy weather my son went off
to hisswimming lessons and Dylan and I headed off to the lap pool.
We swam for half an hour then went over to join my son. Our water
games were interrupted after fifteen minutes when the first big
droplets of rain splattered into the pool. A minute later we were
sheltering under the deck as the rain came down in earnest.
"So much for swimming today," I laughed.
Dylan looked out at the now steadily falling rain, "It's
probably drier in the pool," he observed as he towelled himself
dry. "What a pain. My mom's not going to pick me up till seven
tonight."
"We'll give you a lift home, won't we Kelly. It'll be a squeeze
but you'll fit. You guys wait here and I'll pull the car around to
the front," I said seeing a break in the rain.
I dashed out, running quickly, and got to the car just as the
rain began to fall harder. I fumbled with my keys, finally got the
door opened and dropped down into the seat. I started the car,
backed out of my parking spot and drove as close as I could to the
front gate. I opened the passenger-side door and waved to the kids.
A moment later Dylan and Kelly came running like two wet rabbits,
towels flying behind them. Dylan came through the open door first,
pulling his bag after him and I dragged over towards me to make
room for my son in the other seat. Eighty plus pounds of wet,
wriggling, giggling boy landed on my lap. Unable to resist, I
tickled him furiously, my fingers probing under his arms and ribs
as he laughed and twisted hysterically. My erection returned with
a surge as adrenaline screamed through my heart. Almost instantly
my cock was engorged and my hard-on was pushing into Dylan's
buttocks, straining against my own swimming costume and the taut
nylon of the boy's Speedos. His skin was incredibly soft,
glistening and slippery with the rain, emanating a pleasurable
warmth. Was it my imagination that Dylan pressed down even harder
onto my cock, almost rubbing himself against it, surely he could
feel the hot hardness underneath him. My brain shrieked out in
almost futile resistance, then my impulse died as I remembered my
son sitting only inches away. Still laughing I pushed Dylan away,
"It's gonna be real hard driving the car with you here."
The boy giggled, perching himself uncomfortably on the
transmission hump, with his slender brown legs next to my son's.
"This better? This sure is a great car Alex, I've never been in a
Corvette before."
I started the engine, 350 horsepower sending a gurgling
vibration through the chassis, and engaged first gear, easing out
the clutch. The car leaped forward and I powered it on down the
driveway, just short of spinning the wheels. There are very few
twelve-year-old boys who can resist the thrill of a fast car and
Dylan was not exception. He gripped the seats beside him and let
out one loud 'Wow' as we hurtled through first and second gears,
then braked hard at the corner. I accelerated up to sixty, twice
the legal limit before backing off. I glanced sideways at Dylan.
He had the biggest grin I'd even seen.
I followed the boy's directions to his house. He lived in a
duplex, he and his mom on the ground floor and a tenant on the
second floor. It was a nice place, brick and stone, maybe sixty
years old, with a large sycamore tree in the front yard. By then
the rain had eased off and Dylan slide over my son and out the door
after we'd said good-bye, and he had gushed effusively about the
car's acceleration.
Chapter 4. Twenty Questions.
The next day the rain seemed to have departed and we headed
up to the pool as usual, but a few minutes late. The swim lessons
had already started so my son went off to join hisgroup. The wind
was blowing so I selected a seat behind the pump-room wall in the
sun. There was no sign of Dylan and for some reason I didn't feel
much like swimming by myself. I looked around again and again,
hoping to see the boy. Somehow I was certain that he would be here
today.
I didn't have long to wait, after a few minutes Dylan walked
up and sat down on the seat next to mine. "Hi," he said.
"Hi yourself. Well is the lap pool as usual so you can beat
me again," I teased.
The boy shrugged, "Yeah, if you want. I'd rather talk but."
"Sure."
"You're my friend right?" he asked uncertainly.
"Huh huh, I'd say so."
Dylan looked away and took a deep breath, letting it out
slowly with a sigh, "So,..." he asked, then paused, "Can I ask you
a kind of personal question."
I glanced at the boy, "Huh huh," I said absently.
"Well...", he began then paused, summoning his courage, "When
you were a boy... say about my age, did you... well.... play with
it? You know...?"
I swallowed, feeling a sudden thrill, "Huh?" I responded."
"You know... play with your dick... your penis? You know...
jerk off"
I grinned, "Come on Dylan, every boy masturbates, plays with
his penis, at one time or another."
"So... did you jerk off... masturbate when you were a boy?
Masturbate... is that the right word?" he asked insistently.
"It is. Yeah, of course I did." I laughed, trying to pretend
uninterested, feeling my heart surge with adrenaline, then
realizing the need for caution, added, "This probably isn't
something you should discuss with me, is it?"
"Sure, I should ask my mom huh," he retorted angrily. "If I
can't ask you then who can I talk about it with."
"Heh Dylan, don't get uptight, it's okay to talk about sex
with me... if you want to." That was a close one. Dylan looked away
pretending to pout. It didn't last long, his interest was aroused
now, he needed answers.
"So... did you do it a lot?" asked again, his confidence
returning suddenly.
"What is this? Twenty questions? Yeah, I guess I did it a lot.
I still do."
He paused a moment trying to frame the follow-up question.
There was no way to avoid it, "Yeah? You still do it. But you're
so old. I mean a grown up,... So did you... do it with any of your
friends... when you were my age?" he blurted out.
I grinned, "Huh huh. I think a lot of boys experiment with
each other around your age. It's a perfectly normal part of growing
up. I don't think that playing around with your friends is bad,
though a lot of grown-ups probably wouldn't agree with that."
"But doesn't it make you gay? If you play around too much?"
he asked awkwardly.
"Hardly. Boys need to learn about their bodies," I answered,
then added, "A boy might be gay, if he is, then he'll probably enjoy
it more than other boys and as he gets older he doesn't grow out
of it."
"Oh!" Dylan was silent for a moment. "So can I ask you another
personal question?"
"Huh huh, if you want." I answered.
"Well..., when you... masturbated... well what did you think
about?" he mumbled nervously.
"That's pretty personal, don't you think?" I teased, wondering
whether Dylan would be shocked when I told him.
"Yeah I guess so... You don't have to answer, if you don't
want," he replied as he reddened slightly.
I laughed, "Okay, don't get embarrassed," I teased. "If you
really want to know, I thought about doing it with boys."
"Yeah!" he said incredulously. "So can I ask you another
question, but this one is really personal? You don't have to answer
if you don't want to."
"I guess. Fire away Dylan." I smiled at the boy reassuringly,
wondering what his quick mind and very fertile imagination were up
to. It didn't take long to find out.
"Well... you said you still do it... masturbate right? So...
well... what do you think about now?" he asked hesitantly.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Little blond
boys... if you must know."
He reddened visibly, "Huh?" he mumbled.
"Little blond boys," I repeated.
He blushed even more, his face now turning a reddish hue in
embarrassment. He was silent, lost for words as he tried to
understand. Finally, unable to hold back, he blurted out, "Like me?
About boys like me?"
"Huh huh, you're blond aren't you?" I teased.
"But you're... you're married, aren't you?"
"Being married doesn't mean that I can't be turned on by boys
like you," I answered gently.
Dylan fell silent again, trying to deal with this new piece
of information. "Yeah, I guess," he said quietly, then slowly he
looked up at me, his eyes alight with curiosity, "Do you really
think about me?" he asked, his voice trembling with building
excitement and enthusiasm.
"What do you think?" I replied, putting the boy on the spot
as I added, "And what do you think about when you masturbate Dylan?"
I asked.
I doubted whether Dylan could have gotten any redder but he
did, his face quickly turning an almost scarlet shade as he tried
to look away. When he spoke it was barely a whisper, "You... if you
must know. Ever since the first time I saw you, I started thinking
about you, okay."
"It's nothing to feel bad about Dylan," I said reassuringly,
"In fact I kind of feel honored. Is it my turn for twenty questions
now?" I teased.
He nodded, his long golden-blond hair shaking. Unable to look
back at me he focused his attention on the wall beside us.
"Well, I already know what you think about when you
masturbate..." I teased, "So I guess the next question if how often
you do it? Of course that's pretty personal too, so you don't have
to answer unless you want to."
"Huh, how often,... most every night I s'pose. Sometimes in
the mornings too, 'fore I get up," he answered quietly, his voice
trembling.
"Good, that's nothing to be ashamed of you know, Most boys
your age get the urge a lot," I laughed, then added, "And you think
about me as you do it right?" Dylan nodded. "Okay, next question.
So when you think about me, what do you think?"
Dylan's voice was little more than a whisper, "That's too
personal... okay?"
"Okay. Well next question. Do you play around with any of your
friends?"
Dylan looked at me angrily, "Huh. Yeah a bit, at least I did
a while ago. With my best friend, Gary, at least he was my best
friend back then. We jerked off some. Then one time when I wanted
to do more stuff, he backed out and didn't want to. He got kind of
angry and then he called me a faggot and said I was gay. The shit-
head even told some of the guys at school that I was."
"That's too bad, I'm sorry he did that to you Dylan. It wasn't
right," I said gently. "What did you want to do that made him
angry?"
Dylan's face had lost some of its red hue but he blushed again,
"You got to promise never to tell anyone, okay?" I nodded
seriously, I knew this was going to be good. "Well... first I wanted
us to suck each other's dicks. He said it was gross but he did that
okay. I could tell he wasn't that interested. I should have
realized then, but I didn't." He stopped, looking away as the
memory came back to haunt him, "Promise you won't tell anyone?" he
asked again. I nodded once more. "Well... then I wanted him to...
put his dick... in my backside," the boy blurted out shamefully.
"He got really angry, and that's when he started to call be queer
and.... Well I,... well I just wanted to see what it felt like.
Okay! It doesn't mean I'm gay does it?" he added fearfully.
"Of course it's okay Dylan," I reassured the boy. "It doesn't
mean you're gay. You're still much too young to know. Most boys go
through a stage; they experiment with each other, most of them grow
out of it. You might,... then again you might not, it's just too
soon to tell."
"Oh", Dylan swallowed. "But what if...? Well what if...? It
doesn't matter...."
"Ready for the next question?" I asked. Dylan nodded. "When
you masturbate, does anything come out?"
"Huh? Oh! Out of my dick, you mean can I come yet? Kind of, a
little drop of clear stuff sometimes comes out at the end. But I
have to do it for a long while, but nothing else, it's not white
or anything. White stuff would come spurting out of Gary's dick,
when he jerked off, but then he was nearly a whole year older than
me. I guess I'm still too young to come properly. I haven't even
got any hair down there yet."
We sat side by side both sensing what lay before us, both
afraid to break the silence, and open the door to what confronted
us now. Dylan's youthful self-confidence won the day, "So, I have
another question for you okay, it's really personal but? So you
don't..."
"Have to answer unless I want," I finished. "Fire away, Dylan,
and I'll decide."
"Okay, well when you think about me, well what do you think
about,... exactly?"
he asked shyly.
"Exactly?" I asked teasingly. The boy nodded slightly. "You
want all the dirty details?"
"Yeah!" he smirked playfully.
"You might find it a bit embarrassing, you know," I teased.
"So? I don't mind. So what do you think about? Tell me all the
details!" he insisted.
I laughed, unable to resist the boy. It was more than
flirting, the boy's deliberate challenge clearly intended to go
much further than merely satisfying his curiosity. Like me, he was
excited, his young body so aroused that he was barely able to
control himself. He trembled with anticipation, born of a primal
urge that had dwelled within him for as long as he could remember.
I knew without looking that my cock was erect. The insistent
throbbing and tightness in my swimming shorts was matched by the
same hardness between Dylan's slender brown legs, the small bulge
now slightly larger than it had been just minutes earlier. I
wondered how far Dylan would go.
"Heh, I asked you first remember?" I laughed.
The boy shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear relaxed, but
inside his heart was pounding and his breathing quickened. "You
first, okay?" he giggled.
"Why?" I teased, wondering what Dylan would think of me when
I told I dreamed of fucking his beautiful slender body, of holding
his golden-blond head and thrusting my cock back into his throat,
of sucking his little-boy cock until it was red-raw.
"'cause you're older than me?" he giggled. Dylan moved his
legs trying to hide his erection, so hard now that it had become
uncomfortable.
"Okay, I'll go first, I guess." I paused for a moment, letting
the silence sink in. It heightened the drama as I said, "I dream
about making love to you Dylan."
Needless to say Dylan blushed still more, "Y...yeah", he
stammered in obvious embarrassment. He swallowed nervously, took a
deep breath, "You got to promise never to tell, okay?" I nodded.
"I,... I pretend that, don't laugh okay,... I pretend that you
teach me about sex." I smiled at the boy encouragingly and he
realized that I wasn't angry. "I pretend that you teach me
EVERYTHING. Even... about what I tried to get Gary to do.... Not
just suck each other's dicks, but the other thing as well. Do you
mind?" he asked awkwardly.
"Do I mind? Of course not Dylan, I'm honored. You're a very
beautiful young boy. If I had the chance, I'd love to teach you
EVERYTHING!" I said honestly.
Dylan grinned, looking up at me with his innocent blue eyes,
"Everything? But I didn't think that you were... well gay or
anything..." he said.
I shrugged. "So tell me, do you dream about putting your dick
inside my butt?" he teased.
"All the time," I answered honestly. "You know Dylan, this
conversation is getting a bit out of control," I added.
"How do you mean, 'out of control'?" he asked, his teasing
voice revealing his intense excitement.
I laughed at the boy's pretense of innocence. "You know
exactly what I mean Dylan. We're sitting here, both of us with very
hard penises, talking about having sex. It's making you excited in
a way that probably shouldn't occur until you're much older. You're
barely twelve and I'm old enough to be your father."
Dylan's grin faded instantly and his crestfallen eyes pulled
away to look down at his feet. The silence seemed endless, we were
close to a precipice, which both us knew, opened into a bottomless
chasm. We needed to back away, everything was happening too fast.
"Are you angry?" the boy muttered at last. "I'm sorry."
"Dylan, there's nothing to be sorry about, really there
isn't."
"I wish you were my father," the boy said bluntly, slowly
lifting his eyes to look at me.
I smiled, gazing into the boy's eyes, awed by the intensity
within him. The boy's sparkling sky-blue eyes and glistening
golden-blond seemed to defy my demanding urge
to defile his beautiful body, the depravity of his own desire,
that now finally awakened, would torment him until he understood
it.
Unable to deal with his intense feelings, he changed the
direction of the discussion. "So when you were my age, did you do
anything else besides jerk off,... masturbate... with your
friends?" He grinned slowing as he added, "Did you do what I tried
to do with Gary?"
I smiled as I answered him, "Huh huh. Like I said, a lot of
boys mess around together when they're about your age. I guess I'm
no exception."
"Did you... you know do IT?" he continued, his insatiable
curiosity driving him onward.
I pretended ignorance, "Huh, do what?"
"You know!", he smirked cheekily, "...there," he finally
added after a long pause.
"Oh that! Yeah, I guess so." I teased playfully aware of
Dylan's building excitement, the nervous bubbling energy of youth
almost overwhelming the boy. He was practically shivering, his
voice, though quiet, was trembling as he put the next question.
"Did you... did you... like it? Did it... hurt?" he asked at
last, as he looked downward and away from me to the ground as if
ashamed, or afraid of the answer.
"Huh? Oh yeah I s'pose so. It was a long time ago, but I really
don't remember it hurting," I said casually. How long had it been
since those first inexperienced and tentative explorations with my
friends. Thirty years. I smiled at Dylan as I admitted to him, "We
were pretty inexperienced. We tried, but we really didn't know what
to do. Without any lubricant,... well it doesn't go in that far.
But we didn't know that at the time."
"Oh!" the boy smirked in surprise at this new information,
then looked up at me cheekily, "So.... have you done it again since,
after you found out how to do it properly?"
I laughed as I shook my head, "Now you ARE getting personal,
Dylan. You didn't like your friend Gary telling other boys about
you, well this isn't any different."
"I s'pose but..." he trailed off, now intensely curious and
very aware that his throbbing cock was painfully hard and sticking
straight up into the blue nylon of his swimming shorts. "Yeah, I
guess,.... but I wouldn't tell anyway." He grinned at me cheekily,
"So what do you think out when you jerk off... masturbate, anyway."
"I already told you. I dream about making love to you."
"Sure, but what. What do we do?" he asked persistently.
"You really want to know huh? Exactly?" I teased. Dylan
nodded. "Okay, I usually begin by kissing you."
"On the lips?" the boy interrupted.
"Huh huh. Then I start down, kissing your neck and shoulders
as I start taking off your shirt. I kiss all the way to your belly
button and after I've worked over your tummy for a bit, I take off
your shorts and underpants, and start kissing junior."
I glanced at Dylan, he had reddened slightly but he was both
fascinated and eager for me to continue. I could see the pulse in
his throat, his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply, trying
to control the excitement that now raged throughout him. "Yeah? You
kiss me on my dick?" he said, his voice breaking slightly and
unusually husky, a clear sign of the boy's arousal. "Then what?"
he added in a whisper.
"Well then I start licking and sucking on junior," I answered.
"What,... what do I do to you?"
I grinned, "Mostly you just lie back and enjoy it. When he's
really hard I start to suck on your balls while I get your rear-
end ready." Dylan had turned a bright shade of pink again and he
was looking down in vivid embarrassment. "You want me to stop?" He
shook his head so I went on. "So after a while, when my finger can
go inside your rear-end pretty easily, I turn you over onto your
front and put it inside you so we can make love."
Dylan swallowed, "Do I like it?" I nodded and he swallowed
again. "You know,... well it hasn't got to be like that,... be a
dream, like that," he added quietly, his voice trembling with
barely concealed excitement.
"Hi Dylan," my son called as he came over to us, still dripping
water, his swimming lesson now finished.
Dylan jerked in surprise, swinging his head around in a sudden
reflex, "Oh hi. You were swimming great. We were watching you," he
smiled shyly, feeling his excitement , and probably his erection,
deflate in an instant.
I smiled, adding, "Hi tiger, how did it go? Dylan was
absolutely right when said he thinks you're doing great."
"Okay, my back floating's getting better, Steve said so too,"
he said.
"I guess I better go practice some myself," Dylan said. "Heh,
what we talked about, you gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay,"
he asked nervously.
I grinned at the boy, "Who am I going to tell? Of course I
promise." I added seriously, "So Dylan, do you want to come to the
farm with us tomorrow." I asked.
"Huh?" Dylan looked at me questioningly.
"Do you want to come out with us tomorrow and go horse-back
riding. That is, assuming that it isn't raining." I said
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. I've never been but I guess I'd
like it. I wouldn't know what to do, I'll probably just get in the
way," he answered uncertainly.
"Well, there's probably a lot of things you don't know how to
do, but I'm sure you're a fast learner." I grinned at the boy
playfully, wondering whether he caught my message. "We'll pick you
up at your place, probably around 9.00 or 10.00. I'll call your mom
tonight to make sure it's okay if you want me to. All you've got
to bring is an old pair of jeans."
The boy was clearly excited, his sexual arousal now replaced
by a different kind of excitement, "Yeah, that'd be great. Heh I'll
see you tomorrow morning then, okay," he said happily.
"And by the way, don't worry about it." I called after him as
he came quickly to his feet and started toward the diving board.
He turned, grinned and waved, then with an elegant leap, sliced
into the water with a perfectly executed dive that left little more
than a ripple on the surface.
Chapter 5. A Day at the Farm
The next morning we were up, showered, and breakfasted by
8.15. I had been certain that my wife would not be able to come out
to the farm when I extended the invitation to Dylan. Increasingly,
her work was taking her out of the city and this weekend was not
going to be an exception. She still had not returned from her trip
to New York and when she'd called in the evening I had told
her about inviting the boy out to the farm. She didn't mind, after
all he would probably be company for me when Kelly went off to play
with his friend who lived on the farm next to ours.
Unsure of what twelve-year-old boys liked to eat for lunch, I
threw a a six-pack of coke, a couple of light beers, bread, cheese,
a tomato, and half a dozen other goodies into a box. It was late
summer and after the rain, the weather had turned cooler. Still, the
morning was not cold enough for a jacket, and it would certainly
warm up during the day, so I had dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved
checked shirt, just like Dylan. I thought about driving the
Corvette, knowing the excitement that it would give Dylan if I
blasted it on the freeway, but I decided that he'd probably have
more fun with the four-wheel-drive on some of the rough trails
through the woods. Exactly at 8.30, I pulled up in the driveway of
the boy's house. Dylan had been waiting at the front door and he
came flying out, his lithe body jumping down the four or five steps
at the porch, then running up to the car. He was obviously very
excited. The boy was dressed exactly as I had expected, with faded
blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway
up his brown slender arms. When I'd called on Friday evening, Diane
had been glad that I'd invited her son out to the farm and she
followed him down to the car arriving just as Dylan climbed into
the front seat next to me.
"You behave yourself, honey," she said as she smiled at me.
The boy shrugged and lifted his eyes up in playful desperate
plea. Even as he smiled at me, his grin revealed what I thought was
barely controlled lust. After our long conversation the previous
day I was pretty sure what was on the boy's mind,... the same thing
that was on mine. "Yeah, mom, sure thing," he replied.
"Thanks for taking him with you," his mother said to me. "You
will be careful if you go riding won't you. Dylan hasn't been on a
horse before."
I laughed, "Don't worry, if we go riding he'll use probably
use Kelly's pony or my wife's horse. There's never been a slower
horse."
"Okay. I can expect to see him after dinner, huh?" she asked.
I nodded, almost impatient to be off, "Around nine probably.
We won't leave until sunset and we'll probably get dinner on the
way back."
Dylan was similarly eager to leave, "Bye mom, see you
tonight," he called out.
"Bye honey,.... and be careful. Okay?"
Dylan nodded as I engaged reverse and backed up the drive onto
the street. As we pulled away he sighed in feigned desperation and
I laughed, "Mothers! They're all like that, aren't they Kelly?."
My son nodded and the older boy grinned as he fastened his
seat belt and settled back in the seat, his legs stretched out
before him. His jeans were old and well worn, maybe a year old, and
the denim had softened. They were a close fit to his slender body
but not too tight. His genitals formed a small but very obvious
bulge between his legs and the way he sat there with his legs apart
made it quite clear what he wanted to display. This car was no
Corvette but it was still going to be a fun trip.
We laughed, talked, and listened to Beach Boys' classics the
whole way to the farm, the one-hour trip seeming to take much less
time than it ever had before. When we pulled into the road that led
to the farm Kelly decided that he wanted to stop of at his friend's
house. I was more than agreeable to that suggestion. Luckily, they
were home and he went off to play with his friend, promising to
call later on in the afternoon. I smiled at the boy next to me as
I reversed out of the drive and back down to the road. We were alone
now, just the two of us and the knowledge that we had shared the
previous day.
I had Dylan get out, open, and then close the gate to our
property. He jumped back in the car, grinning, "Are we really gonna
ride?" he asked, his enthusiasm barely contained.
I grinned back at him, "What ever you want. I thought we'd
take a ride around the farm, maybe go for a swim in the creek."
"Yeah! Oh! Damn, I didn't bring my costume," he said angrily.
"So? You can go skinny-dipping," I laughed, then added as I
took the biggest risk of my life, and deliberately looked down at
the small but obvious bulge in the soft denim between his slender
legs, "I'm sure you've got nothing to be ashamed of down there.
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Dylan blushed, he was easily embarrassed by my overt
assessment of his emerging sexuality despite our long conversation
the day before. He was silent, not angry or sulky but pensive, as
we drove the rest of the way to the farm. He needed time to come
to grips with the strange feelings and the confusion of his
emerging desires. His thoughts were complicated by the knowledge
that what interested him, what excited him more than he could
stand, was something that people made crude jokes about. He looked
up as I stopped the car in front of the house and smiled shyly.
"What's the problem?" I asked gently.
Dylan shrugged, "Nothing, well I was just thinking,... you
know about what we talked about yesterday afternoon. About,... what
we said,... and well,... well I,... I just want you to know that I
like you,... a lot,... really I do."
I reached out letting my fingers brush the boy's soft cheek,
wondering what it would be like to kiss that perfect mouth, to taste
his sweet breath as it mingled with mine. I felt as though I was
rushing headlong into something I could no longer control, and I
swallowed, trying to get my racing thoughts back under control.
"I,... I like you too Dylan, I like you a great deal." I wanted to
tell him that I loved him, that he was all that I thought about,
that I dreamed of him every night, but the words escaped me and I
sat there looking into his pale blue eyes as they searched mine.
he was just twelve-years-old, an innocent child and my thoughts
were disgusting in their depravity. I opened the door and got out
of the car, breathing in the fresh morning air, grateful for the
escape from the confinement of the car, of my own struggle.
Dylan got out of the passenger-side and looked around him,
"It's beautiful here", he said quietly.
I looked over at the beautiful young boy, the sun glistening
in his golden-blond hair, his tanned skin radiating the vitality
of youth. It was a wonderful picture, a memory to keep for all time.
The farm had always been a beautiful place but it was nothing in
comparison to now, graced by Dylan's presence. I opened the rear
door and lifted out the box of food and drink and walked over to
the house. Dylan hesitated for a minute looking around and taking
in the view down the valley, then he turned and ran after me. "This
is awesome. I had no idea,... wait till I tell mom. So where are
the horses?" he asked excitedly as we went inside.
I laughed, as we went into the kitchen "Wait about a minute.
You'll see." I put a few things in the refrigerator and then went
to the back door. Dylan followed me and we went outside. From the
back porch he saw the barn and the three horses grazing in the
field.
His eyes opened wide and he turned to me with happiness
bursting from his face. "Wow, this is awesome, truly awesome."
"Don't you know any other words besides awesome? Come on
Dylan, let's go catch us some horses," I laughed, stepping off the
porch and leading the way over to the fence. The horses needed no
catching, as soon as they saw us they cantered over to greet us. I
watched as Dylan stretched out his hand tentatively to stroke my
horse's nose, "What's her name?"
I grinned, "Well first she is a he, if you care to look
underneath you can see the difference. Well almost, he's missing
some vital equipment, he's a gelding you see. His name is
Pandemonium. Over there is Dancer, and the little one is Zombie,
that's Kelly's."
"What's a gelding?" Dylan asked, "I mean I've heard the word
and all but what is it? Is it a breed or something?"
I smiled at the boy, "He's a Palomino. A gelding is a male
horse that can't make babies,... because his balls are cut off."
"His balls? Yuk! that's gross man. But why?" the boy
continued, his curiosity unabated.
I smiled at the boy's discomfort, wondering whether my answer
had made his own testicles tighten up instinctively, protectively.
"A stallion can be pretty difficult to control. When he'd gelded,
usually it's done when he's quite young, it quietens him down a
lot."
"Oh! Which one do I get to ride?" he asked now bubbling with
excitement.
"You pick, either Dancer or Zombie. Personally I'd pick Dancer
if I was you. It's harder to get on her and it's a longer distance
to fall off, but she can move a bit quicker than Zombie."
"Okay! Hi Dancer, guess I'm gonna ride you huh?" he said,
transferring his affection to the mare.
I laughed, then climbed onto the fence, hitched one leg over
the top rail and dropped to the ground on the other side. Dylan
followed in one easy movement, almost vaulting over the fence. The
horses followed up into the barn. They had already been fed that
morning and I opened the gate and brought out two saddles, blankets
and bridles. Dylan had no idea of what to do, but he watched
intently as I saddled Pandemonium first, then Dancer. I had to
shorten the stirrups by a few inches and then I helped him up into
the saddle. It was a stretch but once I'd got the boy started on
his way up he swung into the saddle. He grinned down at me proudly,
his eyes flashing, as he clasped the reins uncertainly.
"Hi down there," he giggled.
"Hi up there. How does if feel?" I asked.
"Awesome. When she moves it's wild. Sure is a long way to fall
off but."
I laughed, "Don't worry, you won't fall off. Press your knees
inward, you can hold on to the hair, or the saddle."
"How do I make her go forward?" he asked as I climbed onto the
other horse.
"That's easy, all you do is nudge her with your heels, very
gently, kind of a squeeze really, you don't have to kick at a horse.
Then pull on either side of the reins, to go either way, or all at
once to stop. But do it gently, remember there's a steel bit in her
mouth."
Dylan was a fast learner, within five minutes he was walking
the horse around, guiding it carefully and stopping when I told him
to. Cantering was a bit more fun and he yelled with joy as Dancer
broke out from a trot into a faster pace. Within a few seconds he'd
reached the far fence and he turned the horse into a graceful curve
and came cantering back. All he could say was "Wow! That was just
awesome. Truly awesome."
"Come on, Dylan, I think you're ready for the big time", I
said, leading the way to the gate. I leaned over, opened the gate
and shepherded the boy and his horse outside, before I closed it.
Together we started down towards the road, cutting off before
we reached the main road and following the track up into the woods.
Already the sun was high in the sky and it was beginning to get
hot. We rode back up into the woods, following the fence line until
it disappeared into the undergrowth, then continuing on the trail.
After about half an hour we reached the top of the hill and we
paused to let the horses rest. Dylan was already becoming more
comfortable in the saddle, no longer afraid that he would fall off,
he rested his left hand just on the saddle, holding the reins with
his right. Sitting astride the horse in the late-morning sun, the
sun glistening on his ruffled golden-blond hair, the boy was dream,
a perfect summer's dream. He breathed deeply as he looked around.
"This is fun but it sure is getting hot, isn't it? Am I doing okay?"
he asked after a long silence.
I nodded, guiding my horse over to his so that we were side
by side. "Huh huh. You're doing great. You can take your shirt off
if you want cowboy."
Dylan twisted in the saddle as he unfastened the buttons of
his shirt, then in one deft movement lifted it up and pulled his
arms through. He tied the shirt arms around the saddle horn then
looked over to me. I was sitting still and silent, engrossed in my
inspection of the boy's fabulous torso, oblivious to the world
around me. The boy was lean, there was practically no fat on him,
not even the puppy fat that boy's his age are supposed to accumulate
ready for the growth demands of puberty, the silky brown skin at
his belly making fine ripples at his belt. Suddenly I realized the
boy's awareness of my intense scrutiny, "You're beautiful Dylan,"
I said awkwardly, removing my own shirt and tying it to the saddle
the same way.
Dylan looked at me, folding his bottom lip inward
thoughtfully. "Boys are handsome or good looking, they aren't
beautiful," he corrected playfully, but visibly enjoying the
compliment.
I smiled at the boy, "Well you are," I said unable to control
the incredible feeling of desire for him, my wanton hunger for the
boy next to me overpowering any restraint that I had.
He smirked at me, almost knowingly, "Yeah?" He looked down at
the ground for a moment watching his horse eating grass. When he
looked up again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "What we
talked about yesterday,... you know,... is it terribly wrong to
want to do those things?"
I breathed out and paused, trying to find the right words, "I
don't thing it's wrong. Dylan, when people are very fond of each
other,... well it's normal to have strong feelings for each other.
Those feelings are natural, they make us want to do things,
together. The things we talked about are, well they aren't bad or
wrong for us...."
Dylan sighed and looked away out over the valley. I knew the
boy was confused, but so was I. "Does it mean I'm,... we're gay?"
he asked.
"Being gay is nothing to be ashamed off. If that's what we
both want? If we're both very fond of each other." I answered
gently, again aware that we were rushing at full speed into what
could only be both disastrous and painful for the boy. But I was
unable to resist.
"I,... I'm not sure. I,... I don't want to be gay, but," the
boy said hesitantly. "I want you to be my friend the way I pretend
when I jerk off but, being gay,... all the guys at school make jokes
about them."
I nodded at the boy, smiling reassuringly, "They don't have
to find out. If no one knows but us.... Come on let's ride down to
the creek." I said, changing the subject abruptly and I pulled on
the reins and lifted the horse's head upward.
I knew the boy appreciated the interruption. He had to sort
his confusion of feelings and desires out for himself, and it would
take time.
We rode down the hill, cantering the horses on the open
sections, then following the track back around past the farmhouse
towards the creek. We followed the creek up past the fields,
ducking low over our horses as we went though the woods. There was
no trail here, just the noise of our horses and the sounds of birds
and animals in the trees and the gurgle and splash of the creek.
Finally we reached a small clearing and we dismounted. I showed
Dylan how to remove a saddle and then stood back watching as he
tried to do the same with Dancer. We left the horses in the clearing
and scrambled down the hill towards the creek. A deep pool had been
formed by some large rocks, the water was dark and inviting. There
in the shade of the trees we stopped, looking out at the pool. "It's
really beautiful here," Dylan said at last.
"Yes it is," I agreed, looking at the half naked boy before
me, silently admiring his firmly muscled back, his lean strong
shoulders and narrow waist, the knobby spine that disappeared under
the denim of his jeans, revealing the boy's rounded small buttocks
and the deep cleft between his cheeks. He turned and grinned, "We
really gonna swim naked?" he asked.
"Nobody can see us, Dylan", I replied.
"Yeah. I know. I haven't done this before."
"So there's a first time for everything. You can wear your
underpants if you want," I teased, then added, "but I'm not."
I began to unfasten my belt, aware that Dylan watched
intently. I kicked of my shoes, pushed my jeans and briefs down my
legs, then tugged them over my feet. I knew that Dylan's attention
had been focused on my genitals the whole time, unable to drag his
eyes away, he'd started in fascination and quickly building
arousal. Naked, I straightened up again, meeting Dylan's eyes
shamelessly. He reddened slightly, licking his bottom lip as he
swallowed nervously, unable to speak.
"Well?" I said looking at the boy curiously.
"He's huge," the boy said in awe as he glanced down at my
stiffening cock.
I laughed, "It's not THAT big. Well I'm going for a swim," I
announced.
Dylan hesitated, almost trembling with excitement as his eyes
dropped downward again, an unfamiliar and frightening surge making
his heart pound and his own small penis began to respond
immediately and instinctively. "You gotta promise..." the boy
whispered at last. I raised my eyebrows as I smiled at the boy.
"You gotta promise never to tell anyone, okay."
I grinned, "Like I said before, I'm sure you've got nothing
to ashamed of down there, Dylan."
He blushed, "It's not that, I know mine's tiny compared to
yours. But it's not that...." he said, too embarrassed to finish.
I nodded, "Yours ought to be smaller, you've only just turned
twelve after all. It'll get bigger as you get older." My cock had
reached the point of full erection now, swollen and dark as it
pulsed with unabashed and unrestrained hunger for the young boy
standing before me.
Dylan nodded then brushed his hair back from his forehead
barely aware of the effect he was having on me, trying to control
his own body's response to its emerging desires, still fighting the
admission of his own sexuality. He sighed, slowly, finally coming
to the truth that now confronted him. "You gotta promise not to get
angry? I don't want you to get angry, okay... I wanly do that stuff
we talked about okay yesterday. I think you do too, but I don't
want anyone else to know, okay. You do, don't you?"
I smiled reassuringly, "More than anything else in the world,"
I answered honestly. "It's all I've thought about from the first
time I saw in the ice-cream store." The boy looked at me
uncertainly, as I added, "You're a very beautiful young boy. Most
people would think that I was a terrible person to want to love
you. It's even against the law, until you're older, much older."
"But you're not terrible!" the boy exclaimed. "I want you too,
I want to love you."
I smiled, "Nobody can ever know Dylan, not your mom, not your
best friend, no one. They might not understand."
The boy nodded, then slowly, shyly, his hands moved to his
waist, his small slender fingers deftly unfastening his belt
buckle, then his metal button, then his zipper. The V of his fly
opened, revealing the white of his jockeys underneath. Then he
kicked off his shoes, turned away from me in modesty and bent
forward. With one foot off the ground and then the other, he
balanced, removing his socks, jeans and underpants and leaving them
in an untidy heap near mine. With the boy bent over I could see
only his bare slender brown legs, the paleness of his thighs,
untouched by the sun, the perfect round globes of his small cheeks,
the ribs defined on his well-tanned chest. He straightened up and
turned around, shedding his inhibitions in that one simple motion.
His now-naked body was dappled in the sunshine as it trickled
through the trees but a single unbroken ray fell across his
genitals. Like me, the boy was fully erect though his penis
couldn't have been much more than three and half inches long. It
was thick at the base and it swelled slightly before it tapered to
a tiny reddish-pink cherry-shaped tip. Like me, Dylan was
circumcised, his tiny blue veins seemed to bulge under the very
delicate flesh. Beneath his throbbing hard cock, his testicles
seemed insignificant, small rounded swellings in the pink folded
pouch of his scrotum. Obviously the onset of puberty was still some
time away. The boy's pubis was perfectly smooth, without even the
slightest trace of hair. It was rounded and prominent, accentuated
by the narrowness of his hips and the slenderness of his body, it
seemed to make his genitals more exposed.
The boy smirked as he looked up into my staring eyes, "Well?"
he demanded.
"You're,... you're beautiful Dylan," I acknowledged. "You
have a wonderful body."
"Yeah?", he grinned, "You don't think I'm too skinny. My
dick's pretty small but isn't it? I told you it was tiny didn't I."
I laughed, "You're built just right. And no, your dick is just
perfect. Come on let's go for a swim, first. But no diving, okay."
Dylan nodded, suddenly relieved, it was as if the pressure
that had been building up inside him was released, the tension, the
frightening surge, the pounding of his heart, the incredible,
almost painful hardness in his penis began to fade. Together, side
by side we walked down into the cool refreshing water. We began to
swim, slowly relaxing, our pale naked bodies barely visible in the
dark water, around and around, splashing and giggling like two
uninhibited kids, slowly becoming playful grabs and hugs devoid of
the overpowering desires we'd experienced earlier but accustoming
our bodies to the touch of the other.
Finally we swam up to the large rocks that had blocked the
flow of water in the creek. There was a narrow crevice between the
rocks, it was little more than a foot wide, and we scrambled out
of the water, almost oblivious to our nakedness. Like me, Dylan's
erection had long since vanished, withdrawing to a small appendage
that hung downward, his balls tightening to form a tiny wrinkled
knot of flesh that was barely visible between his legs. Dylan
grinned cheekily, "Now my dick is really small," he observed.
I smiled back at him, "Huh huh, but it won't be for long, I
bet." I lead the way up into the crevice between the rocks, picking
my way cautiously because it was barely wide enough. Dylan slide
though easily, laughing as he called out, "Don't get stuck, okay.
I don't know how I'd get you out."
The crevice ran for about fifteen feet, sloping upward at
about 45 degrees before it ended. We emerged into an open area that
was bathed in sun. It was very quiet and private, ideal for what I
had in mind, above and behind us were a rock wall and pine trees,
in front and to the sides the huge boulders, the only access through
the slot and across the pool. The ground was covered with a thick
layer of pine needles. I turned to Dylan as he emerged from the
crevice behind me. For an instant he looked around, then his eyes
met mine and he breathed out slowly, "Heh, this is a nice place,"
he observed as he nodded. It was almost as if I could read his mind,
the thoughts that were initiated deep in his sub-conscious, halted
momentarily by his innocence and inhibition, then unchallenged grew
into the same hunger that I felt. "Yeah, this is really nice," he
added in a voice that was suddenly husky with excitement.
We stood not much more than a foot apart and I reached out and
for the second time that day stroked the unbelievable softness of
his cheek. This time my fingers lingered, the tips barely caressing
the lobe of his ears, then tracing downward back over his cheek.
The boy breathed deeply as my fingers touched his lips, swallowing
with nervous anticipation, his pale blue eyes shining. His body
quivered at my touch, full of life and excitement, eager and at
last unable to resist that desire that finally conquered the
frantic pleadings of his mind. His pulse rate rocketed as his heart
began to pound. His lips parted slightly as his breathing grew
stronger. "Yeah," the boy huskily whispered again as he nodded his
willingness to me. I watched his slender brown chest begin to rise
and fall with the rapid increase in his breathing, he licked his
bottom lip, the wet tip of his tongue brushing my fingers, he
trembled like a frightened faun, then suddenly aware of the growing
heat and hardness between his legs, risked a glimpse downward.
Already his cock had shrugged off its cold-induced stupor,
thickening, hardening, lengthening even as he looked at it. Then
he noticed my cock, dominating his own small sex organ by its very
size and power, its stiffening provoked by him, by his beautiful
body. "Our dicks are getting stiff", he observed huskily without
looking up.
"Huh huh," I said quietly, glancing downward. I watched as the
boy's penis became engorged, swelling and lifting upwards until it
was nearly parallel to his belly, pointing up into the air towards
his navel. Instinctively testing his readiness, the boy flexed the
muscles deep inside his body, tightening his sphincter and making
his cock jerk. My own cock, now fully hard protruded at right angles
to my body. It was more than seven inches long, twice the length
of Dylan's but many times larger. The boy looked at it in silent
fascination, awed by its size compared to his. My fingers were
still caressing the boy's face and I lifted his chin, bringing his
eyes up to meet mine. "Now what?" the boy asked uncertainly.
My hand slipped around his neck, my fingers pushing into the
silky soft curls at the nape, pulling him gently but irresistibly
towards me. I remembered reading somewhere that young boys didn't
like kissing but I wanted only to taste his perfect mouth, to savor
the boy's delicate lips. I wanted him to like it, to kiss me back...
I went slowly, his uplifted face only inches away, following his
questioning, unblinking innocent eyes with mine, then cautiously,
almost not to frighten him I leaned forward, brushing my lips
against the soft cool skin of his forehead. "Whatever you want," I
whispered. Dylan nodded as I kissed his forehead again. The twelve-
year-old boy shivered with cold and uncontrollable excitement,
uncertain of what he wanted. He trembled as he tilted his head back
slightly, pursing his lips as he breathed in. My lips brushed
gently against his for an instant before I pulled back. He
swallowed, still uncertain but willing to trust me, willing to go
further, sensing the memory of that first hesitant kiss. The boy
nodded again and my fingers tightened on the back of his neck,
lifting, guiding his mouth back to mine. Again the boy hesitated,
his lips dry and unyielding but he didn't pull away. After a brief
touch I pulled back. He opened his mouth to say something but I
gently hushed him, then leaned forward again. This time was
different and the boy yielded, his lips softening against mine, his
mouth opening slightly as he returned the kiss. This time I didn't
pull back, letting the boy discover the intimacy of a kiss. When
we finally parted the boy was breathless, "Yeah," he sighed in
relief, then breathed deeply, his small hand coming to his mouth,
the tips of his fingers touching the wetness on his lips, grinning
slightly
"You like that?" I teased playfully.
"Huh huh."
I pulled Dylan back to me again, bringing our mouths into
contact one more time, this time my tongue pressing forward,
touching the boy's lips, then gently squeezing inside. I felt the
boy quiver in surprise but he didn't pull back. His tongue pulled
back, making room for mine, his teeth biting lightly on my tongue,
keeping it inside his mouth. Still not used to prolonged kissing
and the need to breath through his nose, in maybe twenty seconds
Dylan pulled back gasping suddenly. "You,... you put your tongue
in my mouth," he said in an accusatory tone.
"Huh huh. You mind?" The boy shook his head as he considered
it and smiled. "You use your tongue too but you gotta breath through
your nose," I added drawing the boy's mouth back to mine. This kiss
was wet and hot and it went on and on for a full minute. After a
few moments with my tongue inside Dylan's mouth, I felt the boy's
tongue tentative probing, the firm wriggling tongue pressing into
my lips, rubbing against my teeth as he explored, then reassured
that I wouldn't bite it off, pushed forward. I sucked the boy's
tongue inside, dropping my hands downward, clasping his naked cool
body, sliding over the bumps of his spine, then filling with the
round soft flesh of his cheeks, the tips of fingers pressing into
the warm depth of his crack, lifting the boy upward slightly.
Dylan's instincts were strong and the boy needed no encouragement
as he responded, his slender arms locking around my waist in a bear-
hug, his mouth and tongue working quickly, exploring, testing,
playing with mine. As we hugged and kissed, the thick, hard shaft
of my cock pressed into the boy's belly, his own hot throbbing cock
squeezing against my thigh. As our kiss finished, I began to kiss
his forehead, his cheeks, his eyes, then back to his mouth,
sometimes taking the lead, at other times relinquishing control to
Dylan. The boy began to move his hips, humping against my leg,
rubbing his cock to get some relief, pushing my cock hard into his
flat brown belly, against his now dry warm skin. Both of us breathed
hard and fast, the boy making little high-pitched whimpering sounds
like a puppy while I groaned in ecstasy.
After near five minutes, during which I thought I might climax
nearly any second, I eased the boy down onto the ground. I followed
him down as he reached out for me shamelessly and I lay over him,
taking my most of weight on my knees and elbows, but keeping enough
weight on Dylan so that he was barely able to move. For what I
wanted, for what would follow, the boy had to accept my authority,
to accept his passive role. It wasn't that I wanted the boy to be
inert or powerless, but I had to prevail in order to protect him.
We continued to kiss, each time longer and more passionate than the
last, then finally I pulled away, my hands stroking the smooth soft
skin of his flanks as I began to kiss his slender neck and
shoulders, licking and sucking on the delicate flesh again and
again until I left small reddish blotches. Then I moved downward,
my lips seeking his tiny dark nipples, sucking until they were
hard, my hands caressing his arms, legs, thighs, belly, anywhere
but his genitals. I reached his belly, my tongue leaving wet
glistening trails on his satin brown skin, tickling his navel until
my saliva was pooled in, smearing the wetness over him, nibbling
and suckling as I worshipped his slender brown body. All the while
Dylan writhed and twisted in shameless and unbridled pleasure,
giggling when I tickled, sighing as I moved ever closer to his
genitals, always making a quiet whining murmur that conveyed his
delight.
In my long passage downward, Dylan's cock seemed to have
become even harder, the tiny bluish veins bulging, the little tip
flushed and swollen. Unlike my cock which was oozing pre-cum,
Dylan's cock was dry but very hungry for my attention. I gave it a
friendly, playful lick, starting at the rounded wrinkled ball-sac
and going all the way to the tip. Dylan gasped, "Oh yeah," flexing
his cock in my face to show his eagerness. My hands moved to the
boy's knees, gently parting his legs, then sliding up the inside
until my fingers brushed into the furrow between his legs that led
back into his crack, or up to his scrotum and penis. For a moment
I considered which way to go, either direction was temptation.
Dylan made the choice for me, "Suck my dick!" he pleaded huskily.
"Aren't you 'sposed to say please?" I teased, now convinced
that I should turn him onto his belly and continued on the other
side of the boy.
The boy giggled, placing both of his hands on my head and
pushing me downward, guiding my head to his groin, positioning my
mouth at his aching hard cock. I opened my mouth and welcomed the
boy inside, easily taking the short hard shaft as I heard him sigh
with instant gratification. I didn't stop there and I went on down,
opening my mouth wide and sucking in both of his immature balls as
well. Dylan's back arched, trying to fuck my face as he began to
thrust, forcing his thighs into my face as his buttocks lifted
right off the ground. I slide my hand underneath his cheeks then
pushed him downward to restrict his wild thrusting. I wasn't
worried about the boy climaxing, even if he did it would be dry and
he'd be still as horny as he was now I curled my forefinger so that
I could rub into his crack, feeling for the little puckered
opening. I don't think he'd ever done that with anyone else. I knew
that he'd masturbated with Gary and I suspected that he'd sucked
Gary's cock but I also knew that his sex life had come to an abrupt
halt when he'd wanted Gary's penis inside his butt.
"Oh yeah!" he sighed in lust, squeezing down hard onto my
finger so that the tip pushed into him up to the first joint.
Gently I probed into the boy's body, feeling the heat and
tightness of his virgin anus resist me. I rubbed him gently, moving
my finger around and around. The boy trembled, moving his hips on
my finger, trying to get the finger deeper into him. "You like that,
Dylan?" I teased, finally pulling my mouth away from his cock and
balls, leaving them coated and glistening with my saliva. He
nodded. "What do you want me to do first. Front or back?"
The boy smirked. "Put it in further, okay", he begged, "as far
as you can."
"Say please."
The boy giggled, "Please".
"Okay," I laughed, retracting my finger outward and pulling
my hand out from under him. The look of disappointment on the boy's
face from the interruption to his pleasure was instant and
gratifying. "Turn over onto your tummy and spread those cheeks,
Dylan," I commanded. The boy needed no further instruction and as
I moved away he twisted over lying face down on the pine needles,
legs wide apart, each hand clasping one of cheeks and parting his
buttocks, exposing the full depth of his crack. For the first time
I saw the boy's anus, the darkened opening, puckered almost like
tiny lips. As I looked I wondered, thinking that my cock would never
fit inside him It would stretch of course, but from the look of it,
never that big, never in a million years, or least another four
years. Then I did something that I'd only ever dreamed about. I
leaned forward, pushed my tongue out and licked the full length of
boy's crack. He shuddered as he felt the warm wetness of my tongue.
"That feels awesome. But,... but isn't it dirty back there?" he
asked awkwardly.
I lifted my head up. "You've just been swimming Dylan. It's
perfectly clean. Besides, nothing we can do together is dirty. Not
if we both want to do it," I answered. I went back and tongued him
again, this time adding saliva and wetting the boy's crack
thoroughly before I began to probe his opening. He sighed, his legs
moving in trembling shakes as the tip of my tongue penetrated just
inside him. He seemed to loosen almost immediately, there was
little resistance to my tongue so I went still further, deeper and
deeper until my nose was squeezing into his crack. There was a
faintly musky odor, a smell that I liked very much indeed. I moved
my other hand between his outstretched legs, reaching upward until
my fingers brushed against his ball-sac, then I began to rub and
squeeze them, working the two tiny nuts together or individually,
not hard enough to give the boy any real pain but enough to let him
experience for the first time, the intense delight that borders on
pain. He responded shamelessly, trying to force his buttocks upward
to get more of my tongue inside him, grinding his genitals into my
hand, unable to achieve the release of climax but perfectly capable
of enjoying the feelings that preceded it. I deliberately avoided
contact with his penis. I knew it was rock hard and throbbing and
the boy was frantically trying to rub in against my hand but I
wanted to save that pleasure for last.
After nearly ten minutes the musky aroma had become stronger
and I lifted my head away to look down. The boy's anus was dilated
now, the puckered opening replaced by a wider opening that revealed
the dark crimson of his bowel. I licked my fingers, then gently
placed my forefinger at the entry into his body. He whimpered in
anticipated, then moaned as he felt my finger press down, sliding
easily inside. There was a momentary spasm, a brief tightening
pressure on my finger as his sphincter tightened, then I was
through. Exactly where a boy's prostate was located I had no idea,
but I knew that it would be small and not that far inside. As soon
as I reached just past the second joint I curled my finger and
pressed down towards the boy's cock. I was right on target. The boy
quivered and let out a little yelp, not of pain but of that
incredible boundless joy that starts deep inside. "Ohhhh, yeahhhh",
he gasped. I began to rub, gently at first, with careful strokes
around and around, teasing, testing, and probing the small lump.
Slowly the boy's own rectal mucus seeped down to provide much
needed lubrication, making my forefinger slide easier and greatly
increasing Dylan's pleasure. I quickly found that alternately
squeezing, then thrusting my finger back and forth seemed to
achieve the greatest response. I did really fast for almost a
minute and the boy started to gasp, his body shaking and writhing
uncontrollably on the ground. A minute more and he was shuddering,
grunting with each hard stroke of my finger as I rammed it into his
aching prostate. The tension in his anal band had all but
disappeared and I pushed in a second finger. With two fingers about
halfway inside the boy I began to wonder if maybe my cock might
fit. Then the boy's body began to jerk of its own volition, his
anus squeezing with brief locking spasms on my finger again and
again, his contractions coming infrequently but with frightening
intensity.
"You want me to stop?" I asked nervously.
"No. No, do it,...but faster", he hissed almost inaudibly, his
voice quavering.
My hand was getting tired but I tried to comply, tempted to
replace my fingers with my cock,but knowing that I'd cause nothing
but pain if I did it without lubrication. Then almost as soon as I
had decided to go for it the boy let out a yelp, a triumphant shriek
and he lunged back lifting his hips off the ground and driving my
fingers hard into his body. He squealed again then collapsed
shaking uncontrollably, his anus suddenly very loose on my fingers.
Dylan had orgasmed, his very first one, and I gently pulled my
fingers out, and settled down next to him and turning the boy onto
his side so that we were lying face to face. He was gasping for
air, sobbing between breaths, his face wet with tears, his lean
body coated with a sheen of perspiration.I looked down at the boy's
cock, the hardness had faded, replaced by more overwhelming
feelings, but the tip seemed to be wet. I squeezed the small half-
erect shaft between my mucus-coated fingers, extracting a tiny
crystal-clear bead. With the tip of finger I lifted if off,
bringing my hand up to my mouth and licking it off. There was no
taste to it, but the pungent musky smell from the inside of the
boy's body was 'awesome'. I sniffed at my fingers, it was a smell
not unlike sardines, without the oiliness. Dylan slowly regained
his breathing but he was exhausted. He looked at me curiously, his
expression clearly indicating the nature of his question. I
grinned, "You had an orgasm, young man. This stuff is from inside
you. I guess you could call it butt juice."
"Was,...Was I,...okay?", he asked breathlessly.
"You were wonderful?" I said gently as I caressed his
forehead, brushing his dishevelled hair back. "You were
incredible."
The boy was still shaking, frightened by the very intensity,
the unexpectedness of what had happened. "It felt as if,... as if
something kind of burst inside me."
I nodded and stroked his cheek with my thumb, "It's okay.
You'll feel better in a few minutes."
The boy swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts, "It was
wild. It feels really strange inside, sort of funny in there....
Sure is kind of messy but, isn't it. I thought I was gonna poop on
your fingers," he said as he looked at my hand.
I grinned and poked out my tongue and tentatively licked my
fingers. I didn't mind the taste at all, especially when it had
come from the beautiful naked boy lying beside me. I lifted his
golden-blond head up, slid my arm around his shoulders protectively
and repositioned his body so that he was cuddled into my side, his
head resting on my shoulder.
It took Dylan about ten minutes to fully recover. He lay still
at first, his breathing slowly becoming more relaxed. He was very
quiet, his body drained of its young energy, basking in the
afterglow of the orgasm that has overwhelmed him. For a long while
there was a shy, almost innocent smile on his face, still flushed
from his exertions.Then he lifted his right leg up over my thighs,
pressing his knee against my groin gently. He looked up, his eyes
reflecting his eagerness, his desire to go further. He licked his
lips, flicking his tongue at me teasingly, then in a swift
movement, rolled over me so that his knees were on either side and
he straddled my hips. He sat above me triumphantly, grinning
cheekily as his fingers tickled my stomach and chest, my rapidly
hardening cock pressed in the boy's hot, moist crevice. He could
feel it getting stiff, every few seconds he squeezed down on it,
moving his hips backward and forward so that my cock was rubbed,
making it even harder until finally the head of it was against the
boy's balls or sticking out under his cock as he moved forward.
Dylan's cock responded of its own accord, growing erect almost
instantly to match the boy's excitement. Then we were both hard
again and Dylan looked down proudly, realizing what he'd done to
me, his eyes locked onto mine as he giggled teasingly, "You got
another hard-on," he observed, "So what do I do now?" he asked.
I grinned back at the boy. "What do you want to do?" I replied.
He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest, "I don't
know. Whatever? You can put it in my back side it you want? I
thought you were gonna do that earlier. I wanted you to."
"I thought about it. But not here. You're gonna need a lot of
lubrication back there before we try that. I don't think it would
fit anyway, and I don't want to hurt you by trying," I said
honestly.
Dylan pouted, "How do you know if you don't try? It might. I
don't care if it hurts a bit. Anyway, your fingers felt awesome, I
thought I was gonna die, or explode, or something. I want you to
do with your dick inside me next time."
I laughed at the boy's expression of his lust. "Well you're
going to need some lubricant or it's going to hurt like hell."
"Okay! So what do I do now? is it my turn to do you?" he asked,
playfully reaching between his legs and squeezing the bulbous tip
of my cock with his fingers. "He's wet on top. There's slippery
stuff leaking out of the slit. It's clear but, and it's not milky
or spurting out like cum does."
"It's called pre-cum, it kind of leaks out when a guy get's
really excited," I answered, thinking of Dylan's first explorations
with his friend, his natural inclinations provoking his curiosity.
I could feel the threatening approach of orgasm, so close before,
now encouraged by the boy's rhythmic motion. I reached out,
stroking the boy's slender thighs with my finger tips, pushing
upward to his hips, then moving him further down my legs so that
he was no longer over my cock. "You keep doing that and it will be
spurting real fast."
Dylan giggled, "I don't mind if it gets on me. It's just sperm,
it's what you make babies with," he said expertly. "This stuff sure
is slippery but," he added, squeezing the head of my cock through
his fist and watching another bead of clear juice ooze out of the
slit.
"You said you and your friend Gary sucked each other once." I
said suggestively, wondering how far the boy's inhibitions
extended.
"Huh huh. Gary did it in my mouth one time. It doesn't taste
that bad, kinda thick and yucky, a bit salty I guess, but it was
okay. You want me to do that to you?" he asked, his voice suddenly
turning husky again, his body quivering with anticipation, the
memory of what he'd done to Gary re-playing insistently in his
mind.
"I want you to do what you want," I replied, gently rubbing
the boy's nipples with my finger tips as he leaned forward over me.
They stiffened to two tiny dark points as he sighed in enjoyment,
eyes half closed in bliss.
"Okay," he whispered, sliding further down my legs, his
buttocks resting on my knees. "But you gotta tell me when, okay,
so I'll be ready," he added looking up at me as he smirked. I nodded
and the boy took hold of my cock in his right hand, leaned forward,
licking his lips and opening his mouth as he came closer. I felt
his soft luscious tongue swirl over the head, felt the hot spongy
wetness, then his lips pushing past the tip, his tongue still
slurping on my cock as he took the head of it into his wide-open
mouth. He looked up expectantly, his eyes meeting mine shamelessly,
almost trying to smile around my cock-head. I nodded reassuringly,
flexing my cock hungrily, wanting him to take more of it. he looked
down and began to concentrate and I felt the boy's teeth nibbling
in the groove around the head of my cock, his tongue inspecting,
then trying to squeeze into the slit, his small soft hand squeezing
my balls gently. It was almost impossible to believe that he'd
learned to do this just after one time with a boy only one year
older than himself. He pulled back after about a minute to get his
breath. Dylan looked at me as my cock popped from his mouth,
grinning cheekily, "That feel okay?" he teased.
"Awesome!" I said. "You're not gonna to stop now?"
Dylan smirked as he wiped his wet lips with the back of his
hand, "No way man. I'm gonna suck you off. I want you to do it in
my mouth, okay."
He went back down, this time past going where he'd stopped
before, pushing down relentlessly as my cock surged into his mouth.
At twelve-years-old he was far to young to deep-throat me, but he
didn't stop until my cock reached the back of his mouth. He gagged,
pulling away as he coughed, smiling as he saw me. "He's too big to
go in all the way," he said as his coughing fit passed.
I laughed, "And you wanted me to put it in your butt huh? What
you've gotta do is not go down as far, breath through your nose and
use your hand to rub it."
"Oh!" he smirked, swallowing and taking another deep breath.
He went down again, this time not as far. I could feel the boy's
hot tongue, the soft squishiness of his mouth, the sharpness of his
teeth as they grazed the sensitive skin of my cock. He breathed
easier this time, sucking noisily on my cock, his saliva dribbling
from between his stretched lips and running down my cock. His right
hand grasped my cock near the base, his fingers wrapping around the
shaft and pressing into the underside. He began to masturbate me,
jerking his hand rapidly, expertly, lubricated by his saliva. After
a minute or so he glanced up and I nodded, sighing as waves of boy-
generated delight washed over me. Like any young and inexperienced
boy, Dylan didn't know that he either could or should prolong the
pleasure. He worked intently, his entire body focused on his
activity, mouth and hand totally synchronized, his blond head
bobbing up and own as his small hand stroked my cock relentlessly.
I felt the pleasure intensify, the warning sign of an imminent
orgasm, wanting the boy to stop and let it pass, my back arching,
leg muscles tightening, my cock flexing, straining, my balls
tightening. "Ohhh", I moaned, "Ohhhh God, do it Dylan, do it
faster." The boy responded with his boundless energy, his blond
head jerking, his rhythm interrupted, "Yeahhhh, Ohhhhh Dylan," I
gasped. I grabbed his head, my fingers locking into the golden-
blond hair behind his ears, forcing him down, thrusting my cock as
deep as I dared, to the back of his mouth and into this throat. I
felt my come rising up my shaft, the boy's hot juicy mouth sucking
frantically, then I exploded hot and thick spurts into him, down
into his throat. I felt Dylan beginning to choke, struggling to
pull away, then I pulled back, still spurting into his mouth, over
his tongue, my body quaking, my cock jerking and throbbing with
each additional spurt. I emptied my balls into the boy, it was the
longest orgasm I'd ever had, then finally with the dying spasms I
lifted the boy's head up, the last of it oozing out. Dylan's mouth
was half open, a look of shock and surprise on his face, then my
sperm began to trickle out from the side of his mouth. He breathed
heavily, gasping for air, his tongue covered with my come. He
smeared his hand over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, then I
pulled him forward, down so that he lay on top of me, and I kissed
him, long and hard on the lips, my tongue surging into his mouth,
tasting my come, embracing the boy's tongue, sharing the sweet
saltiness inside him until we subsided.
As soon as he got his breath back Dylan began to play kissing
games, sticking out his tongue and licking mine, or trying to put
it inside my mouth as far as he could. I held the boy tightly, one
hand caressing his slender back, the other fondly the baby-soft
flesh of his butt-cheeks, gently prising them apart and letting my
finger tips walk down into his crack, then lovingly stroke the
boy's small anus. Already he had tightened up, though not puckered
like before, the boy's opening was a lot smaller. After a few
minutes Dylan lifted up and smirked cheekily, "Well, did you like
that?" he asked cheekily. I nodded. "Boy you sure had a bunch but.
I thought it was never gonna stop coming out. I had to keep
swallowing."
I nodded. "You were incredible Dylan. I still don't believe
what we just did. Did you like it as much as I did?"
The twelve-year-old boy grinned, "Yeah! Of course I liked it.
Your stuff tastes a lot saltier than Gary's did but."
The boy settled down again and we hugged and kissed and
fondled each other for what seemed an hour or more. We teased and
tickled each other, our sex urges barely restrained. We were all
but satisfied by just being so close together, occasionally we'd
play with each other's cocks, sometimes even simulating frontal
intercourse by rubbing our cocks together, but never to the point
of orgasm. Even though Dylan was nearly fifteen inches shorter than
me, it was remarkable how well our bodies fitted together. It was
well past lunch time before we stopped. We weren't hungry, we could
have gone on forever but the sun had moved around so that we were
no longer shaded by the trees. The sun made us hot and sleepy, our
bodies covered with a glistening sheen of perspiration. Dylan sat
up and smiled, "I think I like the hugging and kissing stuff best."
"Why?" I asked, reaching out and caressing his bare brown
shoulder, letting my fingers slip down his arm.
"I don't know. I s'pose 'cause I feel really close to you. I
like everything else too, but when you hold me really tight and we
kiss, I just kind of feel really warm all over. I like that feeling
more than anything else." He shrugged, "You think I'm weird?"
"No, you're not weird. I like it too. It makes me feel very
close to you."
"I feel like that to, like I never want us to be apart, like
I want to be here with you forever.... What does it feel like? You
know in your backside? When a guy does it,..." he asked. "Does it
hurt a lot?" he asked quietly.
I shrugged. "I guess so, I don't really know Dylan. You're the
first boy I've done this with. I don't remember much when I was
younger. When I was a kid, I messed around a few times, I don't
remember it hurting that much."
"You know what you said about needing something to lubricate
me so's your cock could go in?" Dylan said. I looked up at the boy
and nodded. "Would lip-gel do? I got some in my jeans 'cause my
lips have getting a bit sore. Do you think we could use that?"
I laughed, tickling the boy until he giggled uncontrollably
and we wrestled playfully in the soft bed of pine needles, "Yes, I
guess we could use that. Are you really sure you want to do this?
It'll probably still hurt a lot, it might not even fit in there."
Dylan shrugged, "There's no way we're gonna know that without
trying is there. I'm game." I grinned, "You want me to swim across
and get it? It'll only take a few minutes."
I shook my head as I stood up, "We'll both go, it's getting
kind of hot here anyway. It's cooler back near our clothes." I
reached down and took Dylan's hand pulling him to his feet. He stood
before me, his lean naked brown body now shamelessly revealed,
little bits of pine needles sticking to him where he had been lying.
Gently I brushed him off, running my hands along the slender legs,
over the rounded buttocks, up his narrow back. "You sure you really
want to do this?" I asked.
Dylan nodded and stepped away, "Yeah I wanna do it, don't
you?" I nodded and followed the boy down into the crevice between
the rocks. We waded into the water together, the coolness
refreshing and restoring us. Slowly we swam to the other side of
the pool, then when the water was too shallow, we waded ashore and
walked over to where we'd left our clothes in two untidy piles.
Dylan nodded and stepped away, "Yeah I wanna do it, don't
you?" I nodded and followed the boy down into the crevice between
the rocks. We waded into the water together, the coolness
refreshing and restoring us. Slowly we swam to the other side of
the pool, then when the water was too shallow, we waded ashore and
walked over to where we'd left our clothes in two untidy piles.
Dylan nodded and stepped away, "Yeah I wanna do it, don't
you?" I nodded and followed the boy down into the crevice between
the rocks. We waded into the water together, the coolness
refreshing and restoring us. Slowly we swam to the other side of
the pool, then when the water was too shallow, we waded ashore and
walked over to where we'd left our clothes in two untidy piles.
Dylan reached down and picked up his jeans, sliding his hand
first into one pocket and then into the other before he pulled out
a small tube. It was one of the little lip-stick-type cylinders
with the pull-off-top and he handed it to me with a big smirk.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked huskily.
"Huh?" I teased, knowing that Dylan was every bit as excited
as I was.
"Will it work?" he asked impatiently.
"I don't know, it probably isn't very slippery. I think you're
probably going to need something like vaseline. There's not very
much inside these things and you'd want a lot back there for your
first time."
"Oh!" the boy said unable to conceal his disappointment. He
paused, then still pouting added, "But can't we try it anyway."
I grinned at the boy, "You're really sure you want to do this
Dylan?" I asked. He swallowed as though afraid, thought for a
second or two, then nodded eagerly. "Okay, young man let's do it!"
I laughed pulling Dylan to me. His naked body was cool from the
brief swim and, like me, his erection had subsided but as he hugged
me, grinding his cock against my leg and pressing his belly into
my cock, his excitement returned. He lifted up his face, his eyes
looking into mine, his expression reflecting both lust and desire.
Even as our mouths came tohether, his lips parted and his tongue
pushed forward, seeking my mouth and tongue with an almost obscene
hunger. We kissed long and hard, increasingly wet and passionate,
tongues working together, sucking and sharing our saliva. The boy's
slender brown arms locked around my waist, my own hands grasping
the silky-soft skin of his butt-cheeks, pressing my finger tips
into his crack, caressing the hot moist crevice from the underside
of his little shrivelled ball-sac up to the start of his backbone.
After a few moments we were both fully erect, Dylan sliding his
belly up and down, pumping himself against my cock, making the same
little whimpering sounds that he'd made earlier as my forefinger
pressed into his anus for the first time.
Both the boy and I were breathing rapidly, our cocks throbbing
with excitement as I carefully eased Dylan down onto the grass,
turning him over onto his belly. Instinctively his small hands came
back, replacing my hands on his cheeks as I removed the top from
the lip-gel. He looked back over his shoulder, fascinated as he
watched my finger scooping up the cream-colored paste and he
grinned cheekily, the sudden surge of adrenaline sending his heart
racing, his anticipation swelling though his young naked body and
easily overwhelming the fear and guilt that gnawed at him. He felt
strange inside his belly, not sick but as if there was a pain that
wouldn't go away until, until,... He watched as my hand moved
downward, my forefinger coated with the lip-gel. He felt the
coolness of the greasy paste as my finger touched the sensitive rim
of his anus, then probed inside, smearing the lubricant over his
opening. Then he knew from deep inside his belly what he needed for
that strange feeling and as my finger pushed back into him, up into
the boy's tight bowel Dylan moaned, pushing his buttocks up to meet
me and driving my well lubricated finger inwards. My finger curled
pressing back into his belly right before his bladder, into the now
familiar special place inside him. I rubbed him gently, absorbed
by his body's natural reaction, his legs stretching out, his toes
curling into the grass, his fists clenching and unclenching. I
pulled my finger free and added more of the lubricant, pushing a
big yellow blob down into his anus.
He gasped, his rigid cock straining as it flexed, his scrotum
tightened even further, protectively pulling his little balls up
close. He moaned again, the feelings that surged outward from my
gently stabbing finger even more intense that they had been
earlier. I pumped my finger hard for a few moments, then gently
rubbed that sensitive spot inside him, then pumped again, feeling
the boy's sphincter tighten and then loosen on my finger. More than
the first time, I was aware of the heat that began just inside his
body, the pressure of his squeezing anus slowly fading as he began
to relax. After a few more minutes I pulled my forefinger back and
then, with my first finger tightly beside it, squeezed both back
into the now loosened anus. His anal band was still tight, as tight
as it had been earlier, but this time the lubricant helped and my
fingers pushed in, past the first joint and up to the second. Dylan
was panting, shuddering with each thrust of my fingers into his
bowel. Every few moments the boy tried feebly to push his buttocks
back towards me, desperate for me to continue the massage of his
immature prostate, but unable to find the strength. Over and over
he began to cry, "Ohhh, oh that's soooo good."
I took Dylan right up to the edge of another orgasm before I
slowed down and let the boy recover his senses. That helped to
dilate him even further so I did it again, and then again after
that, each time draining the boy's strength until he was barely
able to move. Then, after a few more minutes I knew that his anal
band was about as loose as it was going to get. I'd used more than
half of the lip-gel so far but it seemed to do the job. The heat
of his body softened it, turning it greasy, and as it joined with
the mucous within him, it made his flesh sensitive to touch and
very slippery. I stopped, withdrew my fingers with a 'loud sucking
sound' and began to lubricate my cock. Dylan looked up weakly, even
turning his head was an effort now. Despite his heavy breathing,
he smiled between gasps as he saw me smearing the lip-gel over my
cock. "You,... you,... gonna put it inside me now?" he asked.
I nodded, wondering how best to do it, I really didn't want
to hurt him, I wanted his first time to be something he'd never
forget, and not because of the pain he'd undergone. Lying on top
of him would put all my weight onto him. I thought about placing
him on his side, foetal position, and lying behind him, or lifting
him into a crouching position and kneeling behind him. Finally I
settled on my second choice and I knelt over him, placing my hands
on the boy's narrow hips. I twisted him over, lifting his legs up
so that his knees were nearly at his shoulders, then I lay down
behind him. From where I lay it was impossible to see the boy's
anus but I positioned the head of my cock between his fingers,
pressing between the soft warmth of his butt cheeks. Dylan sighed
and murmured something, using my right hand I reached around his
hip and gently stroked his penis, massaging his little balls. He
sighed again, pushing back slightly so that my cock probed into his
small loosened opening. Lovingly my lips brushed his neck, my
tongue tickling the soft skin of his shoulder, biting the tender
flesh gently, making sure that any marks that I left were beneath
where the neck of his shirt would normally cover.
My cock seemed to get harder and larger than it had ever been,
the head was swollen up and the veins bulged and I was certain that
it would never fit inside the slender young boy lying before me.
The head of my cock was like a wedge between his butt cheeks, the
dimple of his anus felt like a little soft spot into which the very
tip of my cock had burrowed. That precious opening into Dylan's
young body seemed to glow with the heat from inside him, growing
and drawing me inside like a spell. I pressed forward, testing the
boy's resistance. He gasped, then grunted as he felt the head of
my cock ram into his sensitive most-private place. I pushed forward
again, and then again, trying to get past the boy's tightness.
Dylan squealed then he lifted one hand up to his mouth, biting on
his knuckle as he began to sob. Each time I increased the pressure,
wondering how I had ever managed to get two fingers inside him only
a few minutes earlier. After about a minute or so I stopped, feeling
the head of my cock implanted barely inside the boy. I wasn't in
very far but it was far enough. He was shaking, and I knew that he
was in pain. He needed to stop, to let his body adjust, to accept
the strange new presence.
"You okay, Dylan?" I asked gently, "You want me to stop?"
The boy choked back a sob, shaking his head wildly. "God it
hurts.... Don't stop! But try to go slow,...okay? It's in a little
bit isn't it?"
"Yeah," I acknowledged, reaching up an lifting the boy's hand
away from his mouth, "It's okay to cry Dylan. I know it hurts."
Gently I drew his hand downward, then over his hip and between our
bodies, placing his fingers against the shaft of my cock. "You can
feel how far it's in." I whispered in his ear. The boy's hand was
moist and hot and his fingers slowly moved along the shaft of my
cock. He felt the ridge around the head of my cock mushrooming out
from inside him, forming a ring that seemed to prevent any passage
into him. "Just relax Dylan. When I push, you push down too, like
you're trying to poop."
The boy nodded and after a while, when he'd stopped gasping,
I tried again. The boy strained, increasing the pressure on his
bowel as if he was constipated as my cock was forced forward until
the boy winced, then yelped as a sharp pain racked his young body.
I stopped pushing forward, holding Dylan's trembling body until the
pain faded. Again we tried. This time my cock pierced his body, the
flared head penetrating into him so that it disappeared inside. The
heat and pressure within the boy was overwhelming, his anal band
clamping down hard on my cock as he convulsed, then began to
struggle, his weakened body following its natural impulse and
trying to escape. I held him tightly to me, grasping his hips so
that he couldn't pull away. "It's okay Dylan," I whispered
soothingly in the boy's ear, "It's okay honey. It's inside now.
It's okay"
After less than a minute Dylan's struggles ceased and he lay
quietly, his breathing rapid, enduring sobs and shivering as the
pain faded. He reached between our bodies again, his fingers
feeling for my cock, then tracing along the rigid shaft to where
it disappeared inside him. This time he didn't feel the head of my
cock, just the thick hot shaft as it penetrated him, his anus
stretched wide open, the sensitive flesh almost tearing.
"You're,...you're inside me. It's,... it's in a long way," he
whispered in awe.
I leaned over him and kissed the boy's tear stained cheek,
tasting the sweet saltiness of his tears. "Yes it is. I'm sorry I
hurt you, Dylan."
For a long time the boy was quiet, then he whispered, "That's
okay, it,... kind of feels better now. Jesus you feel big but, it
feels like it's gonna burst back there."
I nodded and kissed the boy again, "I think the worst of it
is over now, in a little bit, when you're ready, I'm going to go
deeper. Just push down on it like before, okay?"
Dylan nodded, "Do it now. It feels okay," he instructed.
With the head of my cock inside the boy, the worst was over.
As I pushed forward again with a long careful thrust I felt the
boy's anal band squeezing on my cock, gradually pushing further
upward, the heat increasing until I had about three inches inside
him. Dylan groaned as he felt my cock driving hard into him then
expanding to fill his bowel, then he convulsed as his sphincter
clamped down on my cock, "Ohhhh! SHIT that hurts", he yelped. I
stopped again to let the boy recover. "No don't stop, just do IT!"
he gasped. Having my fingers inside him had been nothing like this.
The pain was indescribable, but so was the pleasure. My cock was
forced hard against his little prostate, he trembled uncontrollably
as shivers went up his spine, his legs writhing against mine as he
was impaled. The pressure so intense inside the boy that his
bladder weakened, his yellowish urine dribbling involuntarily from
his now limp penis, down the furrow between his thigh and hip and
onto the grass.
I pushed again, slowly and very carefully, with a long
deliberate thrust, feeling the boy's body bearing down to meet me.
Another two inches slowly, inexorably pushed into him. I stopped
when it seemed as if no more could ever fit inside that slender
young body. His rectum was squeezing ever few seconds, his
tightening spasms and cramps progressively becoming weaker and less
frequent. I could every motion of the boy's body transmitted
directly into mine. It was as if we were joined together as one,
our bodies united, every shudder, every cramp, even the frantic
pounding of his heart, a part of my body. As soon as the boy's
sobbing ceased I began to thrust into him, pulling back gently then
squeezing forward as slow as I could, moving my cock about an inch
or two inside that incredibly tight, hot passage. I was never more
aware of the feelings in my cock. His sphincter tried valiantly to
tighten up but finally it surrendered, as Dylan surrendered his
virginity. I began to fuck the boy, listening to my cock sucking
loudly in the mucous and lubricant that had somehow seeped out of
him. The boy's rectum was coated with slippery juice, though taut,
the walls of his bowel were soft and smooth not unlike the inside
of his mouth when he'd sucked my cock earlier in the day. I reached
around his hip, taking his very limp penis between my thumb and
first two fingers. I began to masturbate him, squeezing gently on
his little balls and rubbing him slowly at first, then faster as
his cock became hard again.
It didn't take very long before Dylan reached the point of no
return. It happened so quickly that I couldn't slow down. One
second he was trembling and gasping for air taking quick shallow
breaths each time my cock pulled back, the next, his back arched,
his legs jerking outwards, his head thrown back as he squealed from
the sudden orgasm. I wondered if I should stop, he seemed to be in
pain but the boy was two steps in front of me, "Don't stop! Keep
on doing it," he hissed. I began to use my cock a little harder, a
little faster, going just a little bit deeper. Dylan lay very quiet
now, his energy drained, his young body exhausted. He whimpered,
moaning quietly with each gentle thrust. Like before, the orgasm
seemed to loosen the boy even further so that my cock moved easier
inside him, slicked by the juices that had formed there. I knew it
wouldn't be long before my own climax. I concentrated all my
thoughts on trying to postpone the inevitable, but I was overcome
by the wonderful body that engulfed me, by the delight that
surrounded my dick.
I realized that Dylan had reached the peak again, his legs
flailing wildly as he strained down on my cock, his muscles finding
hidden strength as he began to gasp, then he convulsed in a sudden
intense spasm. I had only seconds to go, I began to pump into the
boy faster, finally pushing into him the whole way so that my balls
slapped hard against his cheeks, reaching the boy's final
resistance. I gave Dylan one final hard thrust, then groaned as I
felt my balls tighten, come rising up my cock shaft, erupting from
the head of my cock, spurting hot and thick into the boy as he
shuddered with the passing of yet another orgasm. My cock jerked
again and again, trying to empty itself, trying to fill the cavity
inside his body with sperm. As my orgasm died away I collapsed over
the inert boy.
I don't remember how long I lay there behind Dylan but it
seemed like long while. I hugged Dylan to me, caressing his golden-
blond hair, stroking his lean, body. Both of us were covered with
a sheen of perspiration, beads of sweat had trickled between us so
that our bodies had stuck together. Unable to break the bonds
between us I stayed joined to Dylan, my now-softened cock embedded
deep inside his belly. Finally I sensed that the boy had fallen
asleep and I carefully extricated my cock. His anus was fully
dilated and loose on my limp cock, as I pulled back gently it
slipped out easily, sucking like a shoe pulled out of mud as it
came free. Dylan stirred slightly, then settled back down, still
asleep, unaware of the void within him.
I moved back slightly and glanced down, feeling the bile rise
in my throat as I saw the dark red blood that streaked my cock. At
first I couldn't understand it and I stared dumbly at the redness,
wondering stupidly whether it had come from me or Dylan. The boy
had orgasmed twice, once the pain of my entry had passed and his
body had become accustomed to my penis he had appeared to enjoy. I
hadn't wanted to hurt him but I knew that at the very end, unable
to hold back, I had gone too deeply and far too hard for his
delicate body. But there wasn't much blood, just a few streaks that
signified the loss of his innocence. He'd been so tight inside,
that I realized then that we'd been lucky that I hadn't injured
him. I slid down lower careful not to disturb the boy and gently
parted his cheeks. His anus had completely opened up, the hole a
little less that one inch in diameter, the crimson of his bowel
clearly visible. My semen and the boy's blood and mucous had
mingled to a reddish foam that oozed out of him, a little trickle
running over his pale cheek, the rest making a thick and gooey mess
over the underside of his ball-sac.
The bleeding had apparently stopped, there was no sign of
where it had come from and I guessed that it had come from deep
inside the boy. I twisted over, reaching for my jeans to get a
handkerchief. I touched something and pulled it toward me. It was
Dylan's jeans, mine were still some feet away. I checked the
pockets, but like most twelve-year-old boys he didn't carry a
handkerchief. Guiltily, I pulled the white jockeys from within the
boy's pants, they were clean and fresh looking, perhaps even brand-
new, and awfully small, size 22-24. I hadn't intended to hurt the
boy, I wanted desperately to remove all traces of what I had done.
Carefully I wiped the mess off his little scrotum, swallowing back
the bile that kept rising in my throat, threatening to vomit each
time I saw the results of my love for the boy. I nearly gagged when
I saw the red stains soiling the perfect white cotton of the boy's
underpants. Then I dabbed the cloth into his crack, gently so as
not to wake him, looking to see whether more blood came out. By the
time I had finished I was trembling. Carefully I moved up next to
Dylan again, craddling his injured body with mine, fitting my knees
up behind his legs, bending to meet the curve of his back, brushing
his neck with my lips.
I don't know how long I lay there before I fell asleep too.
It seemed as if hours passed, long lonely hours as I felt my guilt
and shame growing ever stronger. Finally I too fell asleep in the
hot afternoon sun and dreamed fitfully, waking again and again,
then dozing off again, before my mind stopped replaying the
terrible memory of the blood oozing out of Dylan's beautiful young
body. It was Dylan that finally woke me up. I opened my eyes,
suddenly startled, then looked up into Dylan's eyes as he leaned
over me. He smiled shyly, "Hi sleepy head. I didn't think you'd
ever wake up."
"Hi yourself," I murmurred. Then the memory came rushing back.
"Dylan,...Dylan, I'm sorry, I,... I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm
sorry that I hurt you." The words tumbled out as the boy grinned.
"You didn't hurt so much. At first it did when you were putting
it in me, but then it stopped. It was wild, much better than when
you did it with just your fingers."
"Does it hurt now?" I asked nervously.
Dylan shrugged, "Kind off. Now exactly hurt, it feels sort of
sore inside, kind of in my belly, only deeper. Like it's bruised
inside. My hole feels a lot bigger too. I guess it is huh?" he
grinned.
"It really doesn't hurt?" I asked again, still uncertain,
still seeing the blood oozing out.
"Nah, I'm okay, really I am," the boy replied.
"But you bled inside, there was blood coming out of you", I
persisted.
"Yeah I know. I saw it on my underpants. There isn't very much.
I got kind of worried too, but it's stopped now. I think next time
you gotta do it slower or something."
I breathed out in relief. "We'd better get back, it must be
after four," I said, glancing at the sun and then at my watch."It
is, it's twenty past. Do you think you can ride okay?"
Dylan nodded, "Yeah but I think you'll have to help me up."
His head tilted down and his lips pursed. We kissed, mouth to
mouth, sharing our tongues. When we parted Dylan gave me a cheeky
grin. "That was nice, almost as nice as what you did back there."
He paused a moment or two then started to giggle, breaking into a
laugh, "You were awesome," he added.
"So were you, Dylan. You were 'awesome' too." I laughed with
the boy then we kissed again. "I guess we better get back before
Kelly starts getting worried and comes out to look for us."
Dylan nodded and leaned over me to pick up his jeans. I watched
as the boy slid his feet in, then pulled them halfway up his slender
legs before he came to his knees, playfully pushed his small limp
cock down into his pants, closed the zipper and fastened his belt.
I picked up his underpants, "What about these?" I teased. Dylan
smirked, "You keep 'em. I can hardly wear them home. If mom finds
them in the wash she'll die."
I picked up my trophy, the unmistakable evidence of our union.
"I'll keep them forever to remind me of today, Dylan," I said as I
rolled over to reach my own clothes.
Dylan smiled, "The first time we did it huh?"
I came to my feet and started to get dressed. "More than that.
It's the first time I realized how much I loved you."
Dylan looked down at his bare feet in sudden embarrasment.
"Yeah,... I know."
We finished dressing, then with Dylan's underpants rolled up
and secure in my pocket, we walked up the embankment to where we
had left the horses. Dylan walked uneasily, and I had to help him
scramble up the last few feet, he was obviously on very tired boy.
The horses were grazing peacefully, still where we left them, oblivious
to what the boy and I had done down at the creek. I saddled both of the
horses then I locked my hands together, bent down so that he could put
his foot and gave Dylan a boost onto his horse, lifting his eighty
plus pounds easily. He winced as he lifted his leg up over the saddle,
sitting down awkwardly, obviously still sore inside. I mounted my
horse and we guided our horses in a slow walked back up the barn.
We didn't say much, both of us engrossed in our own thoughts,
remembering what had transpired in the woods that afternoon, trying
to sort out our confused feelings about what we had shared
together.
to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories
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