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Samesex/fathson
Ganymede
Like Father, Like Son
WARNING:
This story deals with the taboo subject of incest and
includes descriptions of a variety of sexual acts between men
and MINOR boys.
COPYRIGHT:
Copyright is held by the author at an27868@anon.penet.fi.
September, 1993. Fair use consists of copying and distributing
via electronic means in the public domain only. In printed media,
copyright protection remains for more than individual copies.
Chapter 1.
Mark Gordon stretched back into the seat, basking in the
morning sun as it streamed through the bay window into his bedroom.
He yawned sleepily, almost dozing in the sun, then he stretched out
lazily. The sun glistened in his dark brown hair, reflecting off
and intensifying the reddish highlights. He turned back to look as
his friend Adrian who lounged comfortably on the bed. He liked
Adrian. They had been best friends beginning from about two weeks
after he and his father had moved into the big old house at the end
of the street. That had been nearly six years ago, right after his
mother had left for good. Mark had long forgotten why his mother
had left and the events that led up to her departure had been pushed
into the innermost recesses of his mind.
Mark leaned forward and picked up the plastic model of a
Porsche 928-S4 that he'd finished only two days ago. He'd been
lonely for the two weeks while Adrian was away visiting his uncle
in the country. Assembling the intricate model of the car had
helped to pass the long days he spent by himself. But now Adrian
was back and they still had about three weeks of summer holidays
left before school started. Already the two boys were bored. It was
almost too hot to go outside.
"You did a really cool job, Mark," Adrian said. "This is the
best one ever."
Mark looked up at his friend and away from his current
activity of running the car along the window sill. Mark was making
a small growling noise as he pretended to change gears. He braked
his imaginary Porsche, "I'm gonna get one of these when I'm older.
These are the best cars ever built." His voice was slightly higher
pitched than Adrian's but both boys were still prepubescent. They
were still filled with the daydreams of youth, the unfilled
longings for the things of which their fantasies were made off. The
chromed wheels of the model car sparkled in the sun as Mark reversed
it back towards himself, "The S4 can do 170 you know. And zero to
sixty in a bit under five seconds! It's got like 340 horse power,"
he added accelerating the car down the window sill again.
"You wanna take it out on the driveway again?" Adrian asked.
"Nah, maybe later, when it cools down. It's too hot out there
now." Mark twisted away and placed the model car back in its
assigned spot, next to the 930 Porsche and the Corvette. "So what
did you and your uncle do while you were away?" he asked.
Adrian looked up suddenly from contemplating his shoes, "Huh?"
he said in surprise. "Oh", he shrugged, "Not a lot. Mostly he worked
around the farm during the day. He got up pretty early, so he could
work before it got too hot. I helped him a bit, he let me drive the
tractor a coupla times too. Most afternoons we went swimming in the
creek."
"Cool! It was pretty dull around here without you," Mark said.
The boy looked out the window absently as he scratched his bare
leg. The house cleaner had already left for the day. The big old
house was filled with a quiet coolness and the lemony smell of
furniture polish drifting in the air. The two boys were alone until
Mark's father came home from work in the evening. "So, you wanna
watch TV or something?" Mark asked his friend.
Adrian shrugged, "Nothing much on yet. Just the soaps and
stuff. You got any new videos."
"I tried to get my dad to buy me one on the weekend, but he
couldn't find one he liked. I wanted the new Dirty Harry one, but
there was no way," Mark said. "So what do you wanna do?" Adrian
shrugged and sighed quietly as he looked away into the distant
corner of the room. It bothered Mark. Normally Adrian had all the
ideas when they were bored. His friend was inattentive, almost
paying no attention to him. He'd never seen Adrian like this
before. He'd always been kind of quiet, but this was different. It
was like something was eating at his friend. Mark tried the direct
approach. "So what's the problem, Adrian?" he asked as he flipped
at the curtains in frustration and increasing boredom.
"Nothing!" the other boy replied curtly. There was a resentful
note in his voice as if Mark's curiosity had somehow invaded his
privacy.
Mark looked at Adrian, "Nothing? Okay, have it your way," he
said. The other boy smiled weakly, almost grateful that Mark had
backed off. "You wanna do our dicks?" Mark asked quietly,
hopefully.
At that Adrian looked back at Mark, "Huh?"
"You heard me. Well do you?" he asked.
Adrian smiled and swallowed as he looked at Mark seriously,
"Here,... now,...?"
"No dummy! Out in the back yard when my dad comes home. What
do you think?"
Adrian giggled as the image crossed his mind. "He'd be
pissed", he smiled.
"You're not wrong 'bout that. Well do you?" Mark asked again
persistently. Adrian nodded and twisted onto one side of the bed
to make space for his friend as Mark padded across the room in his
bare feet. He flopped down on the bed, sitting barely inches away
from the other boy. Already he could feel the now familiar surge
inside him as his pent-up desire surfaced. Mark was more aware of
Adrian's body than he'd ever been in the past. He could feel the
familiar warmth and growing sensation in his groin. He was becoming
hard the way he always did whenever his attention was directed to
that small though very sensitive part of his young body. "You wanna
take off all our clothes this time?" Mark asked as he started to
undo the metal clasp of his shorts.
Adrian shook his head as he concentrated on his zipper. Then
he lay back and lifted his buttocks up of the bed, tugging his
shorts downward to his knees at the same time as Mark. For a second
Mark glanced at his friend's exposed body. The small penis was hard
and sticking outward like his own. The other boy's testicles hung
loosely in the silky folds of his scrotum while his own little
testicles formed a little rounded, wrinkled lump underneath his
penis. Their penises were almost the same size when they were limp.
If anything Adrian's penis was a fraction longer and thicker,
although Mark hadn't been circumcised and he was about two inches
taller and few pounds heavier. When the boys were erect the
difference in size was more visible. After many measurements the
indisputable fact was that Adrian's penis was somewhere between a
half-inch and three-quarters-of-an-inch longer than Mark's. Mark
argued that the former was the accurate measurement, while Adrian
held out for the latter. At eleven years old, a fraction of an inch
is important. However, the difference didn't end there. Adrian's
penis was thicker. It was a flat wedge-like shape that tapered
outward from a broad base and seemed to join to his pubis as an
extension of his belly muscles. Mark's penis was thinner and the
attachment to his pubis was marked by a little furrow on the sides
and top. It seemed to come from underneath him as an attachment to
his lower belly.
The two boys looked up, their eyes meeting. Their immature
bodies almost quivered with excitement as they reached toward each
other's genitals. Their fingers were outstretched and seeking the
comforting hard warmth of the other boy as their hands were drawn
inexorably closer to the other boy's sex organs. As Adrian's hand
closed around Mark's penis and pulled down to retract the foreskin
over the little bulbous head, Mark sighed. His penis flexed
instinctively, jumping happily. "I missed you," Mark said
plaintively, "I missed doing this too," he added as an
afterthought. His hand now closed possessively around Adrian's
penis and his fingers pressed into his palm, his thumb stroking the
tip of the other boy's penis.
"We're dick buddies," Adrian grinned.
"Huh? What did you say?" Mark asked. He was now engrossed in
the wonderfully feelings that spread outward from his groin and
tingled up his spine. He felt warm and happy all over, the silky
soft skin of Adrian's throbbing penis hot in his hand.
"We're dick buddies, 'cause we like each other's dicks".
"Yeahhhh", Mark sighed again.
Adrian sighed too, settling his head back into the pillows.
His eyes were half-closed in bliss as he gently caressed his
friend's penis, stroking the short hard shaft and tickling the
little knot of his balls, then going back to rub the delicate little
head between his thumb and first finger, "Yeah!" he said quietly.
Unlike Mark who was grinning happily, secure and content in the
playful touching, his heart beating fast, Adrian was almost
detached from the gentle game. His thoughts were elsewhere.
After about a minute, Mark looked up curiously. "So what's the
problem, Adrian?" he asked his friend.
"I already told you. Nothing! Okay? Just leave me alone." Mark
swallowed, taking his hand away quickly from Adrian's penis. "No
dummy, I didn't mean that. I mean,... well,... I,... I don't want
to talk about it. Okay?" Adrian said, his voice breaking with
rising anger.
"Yeah, sure, if that's what you want," Mark said sulkily,
aware of the distance growing between them. He liked Adrian. Adrian
was his best friend, his only real friend in the whole world. They
had always trusted each other and they had always been able to talk.
Now it was if a barrier had formed between them, Mark on one side,
Adrian on the other.
His hand moved slowly back to Adrian's penis and the two boys
continued to fondle each other quietly but the passion that Mark
had felt earlier was extinguished. Long slow minutes passed. The
boys continued their touching gently and their penises slightly
softened. No longer charged with the excitement of the moment, the
tiny bluish-purple veins were now barely visible. Finally Adrian
spoke, his voice trembling nervously, "You gotta promise never to
tell anyone, ever."
"Cross my heart!" Mark promised sincerely as he wondered what
was going on.
There was another long silence as Adrian took his hand away
from Mark's penis and turned onto his back, looking up at the
ceiling thoughtfully. He breathed deeply, "Mark,... Mark while I
was away,... I had sex."
"Huh?" Mark said. It wasn't jealousy that shattered his
thoughts but a terrible sinking despair. The loneliness that he had
known while Adrian was away intensified suddenly, "You had sex?",
he asked uncertainly, his voice quavering awkwardly. "You did it
with a girl?" he asked incredulously.
Adrian let out a high pitched giggle that sounded remarkably
like a girl's. "No dummy,... Not with a girl. I did it with a
guy,... an older guy." There was no disguising the note of pride
in his voice, the knowledge that he knew something, a lot, that his
friend didn't know."
Mark sat up and leaned on his outstretched arm as he looked
down at his friend. Adrian smiled smugly but his eyes avoided
Mark's gaze. "An older guy?" he said in disbelief, then added, "How
old? A lot older than you? Who?"
Adrian smirked knowingly, suddenly enjoying his friend's
sudden spurt of jealousy. "A lot older," he confirmed. "He's
about,... let's see,... 'bout 35 I guess, maybe a little bit
older,... but I don't think so," he said in his most teasing voice.
Mark trembled in excitement. Disbelief flashed across his
face. He had never told Adrian about his deepest, darkest secret,
about the thing that interested him the most, about the thoughts
that had been with him for as long as he could remember. They were
thoughts that he'd tried again and again to submerge deeply into
the recesses of his mind. They were thoughts that always seemed to
come back with a vengeance and without warning, getting stronger
and stronger each time until they were now impossible for him to
ignore. "You did it with a man,... a grown man?" he asked, his voice
barely more than a whisper.
"Huh! Huh!" Adrian acknowledged.
"But,...but you're eleven, you're a,... kid, you're still a
kid like me," Mark breathed out, wondering, questioning, still
disbelieving, hoping.
"So? Kids can do it too. Boys CAN have SEX you know," Adrian
replied.
Mark breathed out, the next question looming in his mind. It
frightened him. "But,... but what did you do?" he asked quietly.
He hoped that Adrian would answer as he wondered if all he'd done
was touch and rub the man's penis the same way the two boys had
been doing since last Christmas.
"Everything," Adrian said simply. "It's more than just dick
games you know."
"Yeah but what?" Mark asked innocently. His curiosity was now
insatiable as the questions formed rapidly in his mind, "Tell me
what happened? What you did do? Please?"
"You're never gonna tell anybody, ever? You promised," Adrian
teased. Mark nodded. "I did it with my uncle."
"Your uncle?" Mark asked uncertainly. His heart leaped and
then crashed as he looked at Adrian in disbelief.
Adrian nodded his head and then turned to face Mark. "On the
second night I was there,... he came into my bedroom. He came to
say goodnight,... but he sat down on the side of the bed. It was
way past ten o'clock and it was dark. I could barely see him and
he was only a foot away. Paul, that's my uncle, started rubbing my
shoulders and necks. He was really gentle and he barely touched me.
It was more like a tickle, but it felt really nice. It was really
hot too, all I had on was my underpants but I had the sheet over
me." He paused and shivered slightly as the memory flooded back.
He hadn't been frightened at the time but he was now.
"What happened?" Mark asked excitedly.
"His hands were cool and they kept on moving around and
around, each time going just a little bit further down and kind of
pushing the sheet as well. I really like my Uncle Paul and I felt
so good all over. I didn't want him to stop and I was getting kind
of sleepy. Then he got to my tummy and he started playing with my
belly button. It was about then I realized my dick was stiff. I was
scared he'd go down a little bit further and find out. I was kind
of worried what he would think with me getting hard from him
touching me."
"Yeah, I guess. What,... what did you do?" Mark asked
hesitantly.
"I tried to roll onto my side, like I was going to sleep..."
The boy hesitated as he remembered and then continued, "... but
Paul held my hip and made me lie on my back. That's when he said
that I shouldn't be scared. That he knew what I liked it. I couldn't
think of anything to say. All I could do was shake my head. Anyway
Paul lifted back the sheet, all the way past my feet. He didn't
touch me for a bit, like for about a minute. He was thinking I
guess, then he put his hand over my dick...." Adrian's voice
trailed off. He swallowed and reached down between his slender pale
legs. His fingers enclosed his small hardening cock and he began
to rub gently along the full length but concentrating most of his
movement on the little reddened helmet-tip.
"Wow!" Mark said, his voice crackling with growing excitement.
"He touched your dick?" he asked still uncertain. His pulse
quickened instantly with a surge of adrenaline.
"Uh huh. He didn't stop even though I was shaking my head. He
kind of started rubbing me there, using just the tips of his fingers
really lightly on my balls. I thought about asking him to stop,
Mark. I did I really did, but I couldn't. If you'd been there you'd
know, it felt so good,...It was a really nice feeling," Adrian said
honestly as he looked at his friend and breathed out. The boy felt
the relief that comes from sharing something that had been worrying
at his mind. He hadn't felt guilt or shame at the time, that had
come afterwards, in the morning, and by then it was too late. "He
knew I liked it too, that I didn't want him to stop. Then he asked
me if he could take my underpants off, because they were in the
way. I tried to shake my head but I couldn't. I tried to see his
face. I wanted to tell him no. I could just make out that he was
smiling at me. He was happy, and I was happy and I nodded. But
Mark,... Mark he knew I was going to say it was all right,...he
already had my underpants about halfway down when I nodded."
"You're kidding", Mark said. The words flew through his head,
confused with his own hidden desires and merged with his
imagination, it was as though he was there in Adrian's body. "Go
on," he prompted eagerly, then suddenly looking away at the window
as if afraid of his own eagerness.
"He took them right off and then I felt his hands moving my
feet outward so that my legs were apart. He kind of slid his hands
back up my legs. He went really slowly, until his hands were right
next to my dick and then he started stroking my balls. I think with
his thumbs. It felt even better than before. Then, after a bit, he
started rubbing my dick. He said I was so hard because I liked it
so much. He said that I was just like him, that he liked boys like
me and I was old enough to start if I wanted to. I didn't know
exactly what he wanted, but I guessed I said okay because the next
thing that happened was that my uncle stood up and started taking
off his clothes."
"Nooo!" Mark breathed out, "What,... what did you do, Adrian?
You saw his penis,... his dick then?"
Adrian giggled, as he stopped stroking his own penis, reached
out and took Mark's not-unwilling hand and placed it over the small
firm shaft. "You do me, okay, but do it mostly on the tip 'cause
that's where it's the most sensitive," he instructed. Mark's hand
moved awkwardly, suddenly aware that a man's hand had touched
Adrian's penis. A grown man's hand had touched every part of his
best friend's body, had done things to him that Mark barely
understood, or even realized were possible. Mark suddenly felt very
very young. Younger than his eleven years, far younger than his
intellectual age which was somewhere around fourteen.
"Yeah! He's got a pretty big one. It' sa lot bigger than mine
or yours. It's really long and thick. And his balls are huge, 'bout
like golf balls. He's really hairy down there too, not all over his
body, but just down there. Anyway, once Uncle Paul was naked too
he lay down next to me and I turned over to face him. He hugged me
so tight that it even hurt a bit. Then,... then he started kissing
me, Mark!"
"He,... he kissed you?"
"Everywhere. On the lips mostly, but all over my face and
neck, on my shoulders and chest too, going down to about here I
guess," Adrian said, pointing to the bottom of his rib cage. "And
all the time he kept playing with my dick. We did that for a long
while, until I got sleepy. I wasn't sure what I was s'posed to do,
so I just lay there, until,..."
"Go on," Mark prompted again.
"Well, I wanted to kiss him back. Then the next thing that
happened was that we're doing it mouth to mouth and his tongue was
inside me. In my mouth, Mark, and,... so,... so I pushed my tongue
into his mouth,... and we kissed like that until I was almost ready
to faint. Then when we stopped he started kissing my body again.
Only this time not just on my chest but all the way down, like to
my knees."
"He,... but that means,... that means he kissed you there?"
Mark said questioningly as he glanced downward at Adrian's penis.
Adrian smirked knowingly at his friend, "He did more that kiss
it, Mark. A lot more! He practically sucked it off me. He sucked
my cock into his mouth, and my balls too, then he started to move
his head back and forth and rub his tongue all over me."
"Yeah! No shit! How,... did it feel?" Mark asked urgently. His
slender body trembled with excitement and his mind was spinning in
turmoil as he tried to imagine, wondering what it was like.
"'Awesome'! It was wild. He was incredible. His mouth was
really hot and wet, and it felt so soft. He did that to me for a
long while. When he stopped he said it was because I was still too
young to 'come', but he knew I'd really liked it a lot."
"Huh, but what's 'come' mean?" Mark asked tentatively, knowing
that he was displaying his ignorance.
"You dummy! It's sperm. Remember what they told us at school
about making babies. It's the stuff that comes from your balls,...
well, when we're older it does," Adrian said expertly, then added,
"Anyway neither of us can 'come' yet because nothing comes out when
we jerk off." He smirked at Mark's confusion, "Jerk off! Dummy!
Play with our dicks, okay?"
"Ohh! Okay! Yeah, my Dad told me about sperm and how it makes
babies. We won't make sperm for a few years yet, Dad said it mostly
happens when a boy's about thirteen or so. What happened after
that?" Mark prodded, playfully squeezing the other boy's small
wedge-shaped cock in his hand.
"He rolled onto his back and I got on top of him. He made me
scoot down a bit so our cocks were rubbing together. I had to move
up and down so his cock was rubbing under my belly. At first he
held me by the hips and sort of helped me move until I got the
idea." Adrian smiled shyly as he remembered what happened next.
"Then when I was doing it right he made me stop for a bit so that
he could stick his finger in my backside."
Mark's mouth opened wordlessly as Adrian's smile widened.
"Yuk!" he said at last.
"But it's not Mark. It was wild! He licked it first so it was
slippery and he pushed it in a bit more than halfway I think," he
said looking at Mark.
"It still sounds yucky. It's,... it's dirty back there, that's
gross" he insisted.
"No it's not but it doesn't matter. It was better than
anything you can imagine. He moved his finger all around inside me,
kind of like pushing it in and then pulling it out almost the whole
way. Sometimes it got so I couldn't stand it any more. It was like
I was going to explode and I had to ask him to stop for a while.
You know it hurt but it wasn't painful because it felt so good. I
never believed anything could feel that nice. Paul said it was
because of something inside me. He called it a prostate, whatever
that is. Anyway I'd had a shower before I got into bed, and I kind
of knew that he didn't care if I pooped on his finger. We did that
for a long while, until his breathing got really fast. We were both
gasping and moaning really loudly. By then his finger was stabbing
into me really fast and going the whole way inside me because I
could feel his knuckles hitting my crack. My butt-hole was all
slicked up and making this weird sucking sound and I felt loose
inside. Mark I,... I thought I was gonna die... It felt so good.
He did that to me right up to the end and then he pulled his finger
out. That was when he started acting wild. He grabbed me by the
hips and started moving me up and down really fast until he kind
of groaned and arched way up in the air. He came all over me. It
started spurting out between our bellies until his sperm was
everywhere. It felt like it was all over me. Some went as far as
here," Adrian smirked as he put his hand near his breast.
"Yuk!", Mark breathed out, "He did that on you? That's gross."
Adrian turned at looked at the other boy lying beside him.
Mark's hand clasped his penis, now unmoving. "Mark, I,... I always
wondered why,... I was different... If I was gay? I know I am now,
I liked it. And it wasn't yucky. It was nice because I'd made him
do it." The statement came with such honesty and openness that Mark
looked at his best friend in astonishment, his mouth agape.
Momentarily, he glanced at Adrian's pale slender body, "I
don't know," he said with difficulty, trying desperately to find
the words he needed.
"Huh? Don't know what?" Adrian asked cautiously.
"Oh! Hmmm, nothing,. I guess,...", Mark lied in sudden relief,
"... I was just thinking about something else."
"You were gonna say something," Adrian challenged, "You think
I'm gross, don't you?"
"No!... No I wasn't! Then what happened?" Mark asked.
"We lay there until we got our breaths back. It was kind of
messy with his come all over me. It's real slippery at first, then
it gets kind of sticky, so Paul got a washcloth out of the bathroom
and wiped it off me. I was nearly asleep when he did it, I think I
dozed off after he finished, 'cause I remember him lying down
beside me and rubbing my back. He went back to his own room later
on, but I was asleep by then. Next morning he didn't mention it,
neither did I, it was like it never happened."
"Why didn't you say something?" Mark asked. He thought for a
moment. He remembered the warnings from school and from his father
about 'strange men', about 'not doing things that he didn't want
to do'. He remembered about 'telling a responsible adult, like a
parent or teacher'. "Shouldn't you tell someone?" he said naively.
Adrian shook his head, "Yeah, sure I should tell my mom that
her brother fucked me huh?"
Mark looked at Adrian in astonishment. Amazement fleeted
across his face. "Huh?" he murmured uncertainly.
"Don't be dumb Mark, you heard what I said," Adrian said
angrily. "He screwed me for most of the two weeks I was there. Don't
you understand? I don't want to tell on him. What he did to me, I
liked... I wanted him to... Sometimes I even asked him to. What
they don't tell you about that stuff at school is how much you like
it. It was the most fun I'd ever had."
"But,... but how?" Mark asked guiltily. He was now bewildered,
electrified by what he'd heard and the sudden discovery that his
deepest, darkest secret was looking him right in the face from
about a foot away. "I mean, well,... what happened?"
Adrian shrugged petulantly and for the first time Mark noticed
the change in his friend. The gesture was born of an instinct that
had always been there though he had never noticed it before. It
wasn't the way a boy was supposed to act. He swallowed and tried
to fight the truth of it. They were alike in many ways but this
frightened him. It wasn't that the other boy was sensual. Mark had
known that for some time, ever since they'd started 'playing with
their dicks'; or even that Adrian exuded a sensitivity and
fragility that was unnatural in a boy; it was something else. It
was as if Adrian wanted to appear weaker and gentler. It was almost
as though he was trying to act like the girls at school.
"The next night he came into say 'goodnight'. Only not really
'cause he didn't have any clothes on and his dick was really hard
and sticking way out. You know what I mean? I'd been thinking about
what happened all day and I was kind of pissed because Paul ignored
me almost the whole time. Whenever I looked at him he looked away
in another direction. It was like he was ashamed of me and of what
we'd done. Anyway I tried to tell him I didn't want to do anything
again like that,... I tried, I really did. All I could think about
was what he'd done to me the night before, about how nice it had
been. I couldn't help looking at his dick. I couldn't look away.
It was so big and it was jerking a little bit like it was alive.
He stood at the side of the bed looking down at me. Each time I
said I didn't want to, he just smiled. Mark,...after about a minute
my dick got so hard I thought it would burst... He knew I had a
hard-on too. Finally I couldn't say no, I just lay there looking
back up at him, knowing what was gonna happen."
"But you,... you wanted to?" Mark asked awkwardly.
The other boy nodded. "He pulled back the sheet and pulled my
underpants off, and then he lay down beside me. He started doing
the same things that he did the night before. I s'pose we did that
for about a half hour. He didn't come but I sure got him close to
it a few times. Every time he made me stop. He said he didn't want
to waste it yet."
"Huh?" Mark asked innocently.
"His 'come' dummy. Once a guy shoots his 'come' he sort of
looses interest for a while," Adrian answered as he began to enjoy
his position of tutor. "Well I wanted to start doing the same things
back to him. He made me feel so good. I,... I wanted him to feel
the same way too. I wasn't that keen on sucking his dick at
first,..."
"You did that?" Mark said incredulously. "You did that to
him?"
"Sure. It tastes salty and it smells funny, a bit like pee I
guess, but it's okay. First I just kind of licked and kissed around
the outside. Then when I got used to that I started putting the tip
of it in my mouth. The skin on his cock is really kind of soft
though not as soft as yours or mine, and it's really hot. Paul told
me what I had to do to do it properly. It took a while but I started
to really enjoy it. I got it about halfway in. That's about all I
could and then it was in the back of my mouth, then I had to stop.
You have to move your head up and down, like this," Adrian
demonstrated by rocking his head rhythmically, "So it goes in an'
out. I did that for a while until he made me stop for a minute and
then I started back doing it again. I did it for a bit more but my
neck was getting tired so I started to slow down. Paul kind of took
over from me and started moving his hips instead. Only he was doing
it really fast and pushing my head down on his cock. I started
getting scared because I was afraid he was going to hurt me. I think
it even went back into my throat a bit sometimes because then I
couldn't breath. I knew something was going to happen when Paul
started to groan. He was going incredibly fast by then." Adrian
grinned cheekily, "You would have thought I knew what to
expect,..." he said and then added proudly, "He did it in my mouth.
Well most of it anyway, 'cause I choked on it and he pulled it out
before I threw up."
Mark's mouth was wide open as he looked as Adrian dumbly,
"Huh? But!,.... Well,... what did he do in your mouth?"
"Jesus! Mark! His 'come' you idiot! He put his sperm in me,...
in my mouth."
"Shit,... but that's,... that's gross. I,... I don't believe
you," Mark said resolutely, refusing to believe that such things
could happen.
Adrian laughed, "Yeah! No shit Mark. I thought it was gross
too,... the first time anyway. I guess most of it went down my
throat anyway before I knew what was going down. I think that's
what started me choking. Then I tasted it and I thought I was going
to throw up on him. But you know, really it isn't as gross as you
think. The next time I swallowed most of it. It tastes funny, it's
not nasty, really it's not. Just salty and thick. I don't exactly
like the taste but, well,... it's not that bad. So I guess I'm an
okay cocksucker. Paul says I'm great at it, but he's pretty
biased."
'Cocksucker' was one of those words that Mark had heard at
school. It was one of the words eleven-year-old boys use in the
playground or with their friends. It was one of the words whose
meaning he didn't understand, hadn't understood until now. The idea
was intriguing and it captivated his imagination as he thought
about it. Not the part about 'come' in his mouth, that was still
'gross'. He looked down at Adrian's penis and conjured up images,
inventing the taste and feeling of the small, still rigid cock in
his fertile imagination. Then the picture changed and the cock was
so much bigger than his own that he could barely fit it into his
mouth. It was hairy and it pushed into his throat. He swallowed and
gulped down the fantasy as the word 'gross' rocketed back and forth
in his mind. Then there was another word that formed in his mind,
another word that boys his age used not only with some frequency,
but a great deal of caution. "Then what happened, Adrian?" he asked
weakly.
"Well,..." Adrian began. He stopped and smiled,looking at
his friend gently as he wondered whether he could trust him. For
some time now he had wondered whether Mark was the same way. He
closed his eyes and breathed out. "Well it was way past midnight
by then so we didn't do anything else. He didn't get out of my bed
until early in the morning and then he let me sleep until about ten
o'clock.... But that isn't what you want to know is it Mark?" he
asked raising his eyebrows, "You want to know about the other thing
don't you? About how my uncle fucked me?"
Mark nodded and swallowed nervously. "Mark, you've got to
promise never to tell anyone. Not your dad, not anyone, okay?"
Adrian said seriously. Mark nodded again, recklessly, urgently,
feeling a strangeness in his belly. It was a feeling exactly like
'butterflies'. "He fucked me Mark, not once but a whole lot of
times, okay. He did it because I liked it. If anyone finds out
I'll,... he'll,... we'll both be in deep shit."
"Yeah, I guess. Adrian I promise," Mark said quietly.
"I trust you Mark. Okay?" Adrian breathed out. He was breaking
his promise to his uncle but he knew that he had to share his secret
with Mark. "...The next day he was really different. He was nice,
nicer than he'd ever been before. It was Sunday so he didn't work
that day. We went out for breakfast to Shoney's and when we got
back he took me down to the barn and showed me how to drive the
tractor. He sat up in the cabin next to me and I drove it all over
the farm. I must have used a ton of gas. When we went swimming he
told me I could go in skinny-dipping if I wanted, like he did when
he was a boy my age. I said I wouldn't by myself so he stripped off
too and we both went in. We wrestled a lot and we both got hard-
ons but nothing else happened. Then for dinner we had pizza and we
went in the living room and watched "The Return of the Jedi" on TV.
We lay on the couch together. I was in front of Paul and he hugged
me and kissed me and kept playing with my butt. He was rubbing it
through my shorts and he kept trying to get his fingers into my
crack by going down the back or up the legs of my shorts. All I
could think off was what he did to me with his finger in my hole
the first time. By the time the movie was about half over I couldn't
stand it any more."
"So what did you do?" Mark asked curiously. He was no longer
able to camouflage his fascination.
Adrian smirked, "I stood up and took all my clothes off. It
was right in the middle of the scene where they're fighting it out
on the spaceship with those sword lasers but I can tell you what
Paul was watching, 'n it sure wasn't the movie. I was ready to lie
down again when Paul asked me to run into the bathroom and get a
little jar of Vaseline from the medicine cabinet."
"Why? I mean why Vaseline?" Mark asked ignorantly.
"For me, you numskull," Adrian giggled.
"But why? Were your lips sore or something?" Mark persisted.
"Jesus! Mark, don't be a moron. Don't you know anything?"
Adrian teased as he delighted in exercising his own very recent
enlightenment. "For my butt, it's sort of dry back there. You need
something to lubricate it,... to make it slippery enough," he
added.
"Oh!.... Ohhh!" Mark blushed as he suddenly comprehended.
"What did you think it was for, Mark. Stop being a dummy and
be patient. I tell you everything you want to know. Well, when I
lay back down on the couch I knew I was going to miss most of the
movie,... but heck I've seen it over here about six times, so I
didn't really care. As soon as I was back on the couch Paul took
over. He put a whole lot of the Vaseline in my crack and started
working it into my butt hole with his finger. He sort of pushed it
in and out of my hole while I pulled my butt cheeks as open as I
could. When he had enough in me he started using his finger like
he did the first time. Only this time he started right out by going
all the way in and out. You wouldn't believe how good it felt Mark.
It was better than before because I was much more slippery inside,
and I wasn't as scared either because I knew what to expect. He did
that to me for a long while. He was gentle and pretty slow at first
until I loosened up back there. It hurt a bit at first, but not
real bad. It was just kind of sore but it felt good too."
"Loosened up?" Mark asked, "Ohh! Sorry Ad' I didn't mean to
interrupt. But why does it hurt?"
"That's okay. When you first start it's really tight inside.
Well your hole is tight anyway, that's because there's a muscle
inside that closes up. Paul said my hole was pretty small and I was
really tight because I was a still a young kid and I'm not that
big. If I tried to have sex like that the pain would kill me and
I'd get torn up inside. But after he had been using his finger in
me for about ten minutes I could feel it getting looser. I mean you
can really feel it. It gets sort of spongier inside you and it
doesn't hurt at all after that." Adrian smiled smugly and then
added, "In fact, that's when you start feeling cool and you don't
want it to ever stop. I have to go pee in a minute," he said
changing the topic.
"You wanna go now?" Mark asked.
"Nah, I can wait a few minutes. So where was I? Oh yeah! Okay!
Well, then Paul put two fingers up me,...like this," he said
holding up his first two fingers placed closely together. The tip
of the first finger was tightly snuggled into the boy's second
finger to make a point. "You gotta get it stretched wide open before
you do it, Mark. We did it like that right up to the end of the
movie. I guess maybe 'bout an hour. By then it got kind of messy
in my butt. Paul had to get my tee-shirt and put it under my butt
so I didn't make stains on the couch."
"Huh? Does poop come out or something?" Mark asked. His
curiosity was unquenched and he no longer thought of it as 'gross'.
Adrian smiled patiently. "You try not to poop on him.
Sometimes you can't help it, but it usually doesn't come out. What
comes out mostly is this kind of gooey yellowish juice. It's a bit
smelly, but not like poop really. Paul said it was mucus from inside
my gut. It's what lubricates your intestines so the food you eat
goes through you. I guess some of it drains down into your butt.
So where was I... Okay so when the movie ended Paul lifted me up
and carried me into his bedroom. He took his clothes off and went
back and got the Vaseline. I watched him while he covered his cock
with it. He put a lot on because it was my first time and
everything.... Mark,..." Adrian swallowed as he remembered what
happened. His eyes were half-closed as each sound and every feeling
branded into his mind was replayed. "Mark, then,... then he fucked
me?"
"Huh? How? I,... I mean what did he do?" Mark gasped out.
"He put his cock inside my butt. He did it just a little bit
at a time. It really didn't hurt much at all after he got the first
bit inside me. His cock is so big, well compared to mine, or yours,
it is. At first it felt horrible, like he driving a spike inside
me but once the head was in, the rest of it went in kind of easy.
It sort of slides in. You have to go slow because your body has to
adjust to having it there. But it didn't take more than a few
minutes and he was all the way in me. Mark,... his cock is about
as long as my forearm,... but not quite as long,... that's about
eight inches. I measured his cock once, it's around seven inches
long when it's real stiff. And it's thick, about like my wrist,...
and it fitted in me. Well not quite all of it at the start, but
most of it. When he stopped I felt I was gonna explode. I was
shaking like jelly and I was sweating like crazy. I felt like I was
ready to burst or something. I couldn't move by myself. I felt like
I was joined to him. It felt just like I was part of my uncle, part
of his cock really. When he started actually fucking me he moved
so gently you wouldn't believe it. He started by rocking his hips
a little bit and stopping when I wanted him to. When he pushed it
in it felt like he was gonna come out my belly and when he pulled
it back I felt like he took half of me with him."
"Didn't it hurt but?" Mark asked.
"Yeah, it hurts kind of, but it's not a bad pain. It's hard
to explain. You feel something growing bigger and bigger and you
can't stop it. If he stops moving or pulls it back, even for a few
seconds, you get angry and want him to start again or push it back
up. But as soon as he starts again you want him to stop after a few
seconds. I kept on saying stupid things like I was delirious or
hysterical or something like that. It only took a few minutes and
then he was done. That was because I was so tight inside I think,
and he'd been saving it the whole way through the movie. I even
think I felt his 'come' spurting. It was like something burst open
and flooded inside me. It was really hot too."
Mark looked at his best friend jealously as he tried to
imagine the feelings that were so foreign to him, "Then what,...?"
he mumbled.
Adrian contemplated his friend and smiled slowly, "You know,
I don't remember, Mark. I think I fell asleep as soon as he
finished. Maybe I fainted, I don't know," he said honestly. He
paused and stretched out his legs. "Paul said I might have fainted
because I had an orgasm. Right at the end, just before Paul did his
'come' in me, I thought I was gonna die, Mark. I was really loose
inside by then and he was going pretty fast. It just kept on getting
better and better until I thought I was dying. Right at the end,
when I felt his 'come' spurting out, I got this truly weird feeling
all over and I started shaking. All I can remember is that I was
shaking and crying. I can't remember anything at all after that."
"But what happened after that, Adrian? Like the next day and
all," Mark asked shamelessly. "You said you did it again,... a lot
more times?"
"Yeah! We did it again the next morning, almost as soon as I
woke up. It hurt a bit more that time. That was probably because I
was sore from my first fuck, Paul said. I spent most of the morning
in bed while Paul was at work. Then in the afternoon, after he came
back for lunch, we moved my clothes and stuff into my uncle's
bedroom. I slept in there with him from then on. We did it mostly
at night. Once, or twice every night. A couple of times we did it
three times before we fell asleep. In the mornings he had to go to
work earlier and I was pretty sleepy still so we didn't usually do
it then. We did it a few times though. When we went swimming we did
it then sometimes too. He even fucked me in the barn a few times.
I guess we did it a lot. After the first few days it stopped hurting
altogether, except when I had to poop," Adrian grinned playfully.
"My butt-hole got kind of bruised from doing so much. You want to
see," he asked.
"Huh?" Mark said, "Yeah, I guess. But why does it get
bruised?"
Adrian lifted his legs upward, curling up so that his feet
were at his shoulders and his knees were apart. He spread his cheeks
wide open and supported his buttocks on his hands, "See! I guess
it's because his cock is so big."
Mark sat up and leaned forward as he peered into the other
boy's crevice. The was a darkened purplish ring around his anus.
The lips were slightly puffed up and were no longer puckered like
Mark's. The little orifice was still swollen from two weeks of
abuse. "Does it hurt still? It looks kind of sore."
"No. It really didn't hurt much at the time either. We
probably did it too much at first, Paul said. The bruises will go
away in a week or two he reckoned."
Adrian straightened back out on the bed and Mark lay back down
next to his friend. He was confused and he was jealous. Silently
he looked at Adrian's pale slender body and compared it to his own.
Try as he could, Mark couldn't help wondering why he couldn't have
been Adrian. He was excited in a strange new way. The new
information challenged him, teased him and drew him forward. It was
irresistible. "Did it really feel good?" he asked at last.
Adrian nodded, "Mark, I never felt so incredible. Every time
we did it I think it got even better."
Mark looked away sadly. Slowly he turned to Adrian, "You gonna
do it again with him, aren't you?" he asked.
Adrian shrugged, "Yeah. I guess when he comes down at
Thanksgiving. I'm going to ask mom if he can sleep in my room,...
in the other bed, of course. She'd die if she found out he'd done
that stuff with me. Paul says there are men around who like boys,...
like to have sex with boys like us that is. But it's against the
law, that's why you can't tell."
Mark nodded, suddenly wondering who and where these men were.
He pushed the thought out of his mind. "Ad',...do you wanna do....
that stuff with me?" he asked hesitantly. He was strangely afraid
of the other boy's answer.
Adrian grinned. His suspicions had been confirmed in that
single question. "Yeah,... Yeah I s'pose so, but...."
"But what?" Mark asked nervously.
"Well,..." Adrian said playfully, "I mean look at us, your
dick is smaller than Paul's little finger, and mine's about the
size of his thumb. So what good's it gonna do us?"
"Oh!", Mark said despondently. His desire deflated quickly as
Adrian started to laugh. "What's up?" Mark asked angrily.
"Nothing dummy,... only,... you don't have to have,... a big
dick," the other boy laughed.
"Huh? Bbbbut,... wwwwell you made it ssssound like,...
well,..." Mark stammered.
"You don't even have to have a dick to do it," Adrian
continued.
"Huh?"
"When we were out in the tractor one day," Adrian smirked
knowingly, "Paul showed me how to do it with something else besides
his big hairy dick." Mark looked up curiously. "Having a dick, a
big dick helps of course. It's a bunch more fun. But he made me do
it with some corn. It's called corn-holing. A lot of farm kids do
it."
Mark started to giggle, "You're bulling me. With corn?"
"No shit! It's about as big as man's dick, and stiffer too,
so you got go carefully. It goes in easier because it's pointed
more," Adrian grinned.
"You did that?" Mark asked. Adrian nodded. Mark smiled slowly,
then broadened into a grin, "I think there's corn in the fridge,"
he said.
"That'll be way too cold! It's got to be warmed up first, like
in the sun," Adrian said expertly, then added, "You gotta use a
heap of Vaseline too."
"Mark, I'm home," Mark's father shouted out from the bottom
of the stairs.
Mark jumped as though a bee had stung him, "Shit! It's my dad!"
he glanced at his watch. "Shit! Ad' he's home early," he whispered.
"I,... I'm upstairs Dad,... with Adrian,... we'll be right
down," Mark shouted as he leaped up from the bed and began tugging
up his shorts and underpants furiously. It took the boys only
seconds to rearrange their clothes and then they started
downstairs.
"Hi guys," John Gordon beamed at the two boys as they can down,
taking the steps two at a time and shrieking as only eleven-year-
old boys can.
"Hi Dad," Mark said, "You're home early?"
"Hi Doctor Gordon," Adrian said, hanging back a few feet and
looking at Mark's handsome father almost shyly.
"Hi Adrian. Yeah, I guess I am. I thought we'd go out and see
a movie, Jurassic Park, maybe, then get a pizza or something for
dinner. You too Adrian. I didn't think you were getting back until
tomorrow afternoon. Mark's been bored without you. I bet you've had
an exciting few weeks."
"Yeah, I'd love to come. I had a great time. It was 'cool'. I
was pretty busy. My uncle and I did lot's of new things. I even
drove the tractor," Adrian said. The two boys looked at each other
and shared a knowing smile.
John grinned, "Great. Well if you want to go out to dinner,
you guys'll have to put on socks and shoes, and comb your hair,
okay? I'll call your mom from the study and let her know the plan,"
he laughed as he walked through the door into the next room. The
two boys turned and raced back up the stairs. Their long discussion
and their sex play was almost forgotten, replaced by more innocent
pursuits. But inside each boy the memories lingered. For Adrian,
the memories were clear and insistent, but for Mark, the ideas, the
thoughts and the desire that had long resided within him had, at
last, been germinated. Now it was a matter of time until his long-
repressed desire blossomed.
+++++
Chapter 2. True Nature.
That night, after they had dropped Adrian off at his house,
Mark kissed his father goodnight and went up to his bedroom.
Normally he showered in the morning but this night was an
exception. All through the movie, all through dinner, Adrian's
words had gnawed at him. Despite his best efforts to concentrate
on the movie his thoughts had strayed. Secure in the privacy of his
own mind Mark had tried to imagine the feel of a man's penis, the
taste of his 'come' and the touch of their bodies together. But
mostly Mark's thoughts were one just one thing, the feelings he
would have from a man's penis when it was inserted into his rectum.
Mark knew all, or most of the words, in their biological context.
After all his father was a doctor, but he had no idea of the
feelings that accompanied the words. Adrian had experienced those
feelings and Mark decided during dinner, somewhere between his
second and third slice of pizza, that he was not going to be far
behind.
That night the boy closed the door to his bedroom and went
into the bathroom. He stripped of his clothes as he went and dropped
them on the floor carelessly. By the time he reached the bathroom
he was naked except for his white Fruit-of-the-Loom underpants.
Usually he showered with the bathroom door open. It was his
bathroom, after all. But tonight he closed it. Tonight, if his
father came up to say goodnight before he was out of the shower,
Mark would need the warning of a few precious seconds. He slid his
underpants down and tossed them onto the door handle. His little
penis was already quite stiff and it protruded rudely outwards. It
quickly hardened the last little bit so that it stood up and
parallel to his body, pointing upward to his face. Instinctively
he flexed the muscle that made it bob up and slap lightly against
his lower belly.
He turned on the water in the shower and went over to the
medicine cabinet above the vanity. Eleven-year-old boys usually
don't have a need for medicines, and Vaseline was normally stocked
in the downstairs bathroom. There was an extra tube of toothpaste
and not much more. Certainly nothing that had the very important
property of being a lubricant. "Shit!" Mark said angrily as he
looked at the slender body of the now-naked boy reflected back at
him in the mirror. He could run downstairs like this and he knew
that his father wouldn't mind. He did it lots of times, but not to
get some Vaseline. He would have to get dressed and then go down.
He would have to sneak some into his pocket, even the whole jar.
Mark thought for a second, remembering Adrian's words about the
need to use something slippery because it was "dry back
there,...you need something to lubricate it,... to make it slippery
enough.". Then his anger faded as he saw the soap. It would be both
slippery and wet and it was probably dirty back there anyway, he
thought.
Mark stepped into shower. For a few moments he stood directly
under the steaming water as it streamed down. Then he directed the
shower head away into the corner so that only the occasional stray
droplets landed on him. He began to soap his body, working up a
rich creamy lather on his arms and shoulders. His small hands slid
up and down his narrow chest and waist and then he reached for his
groin, rubbing the soap around his already excited genitals. He
could feel the smooth hardness of his penis as it pressed back
against the soap. He was warm and slippery and his smooth body was
as soft as silk. His tiny dark nipples hardened instantly into
little pointed dots as his hand moved back over his chest, then
back downward to sweep around and around his throbbing cock,
swishing his balls back and forth so that they bounced against his
legs.
He sighed loudly, unable to believe that his body could feel
so wonderful. He tingled all over but there was aconstant glowing,
throbbing, and aching in his penis until the boy could barely stand
it. His hand returned guiltily, again and again. He concentrated
his attention on the swollen little bulb of the head. The foreskin
was retracted back, leaving tiny folds of sensitive skin bunched
up behind it. His little-boy testicles were hanging loosely in the
relaxed delicate folds of his scrotum, swaying and bumping slightly
against the boy's slender thighs as his hips moved rhythmically.
He closed his eyes as he imagined a mouth was on his penis. Then
the mouth moved forward and over it, enclosing and pulling on it,
sucking him in. There were fingers other than his own squeezing on
his balls. He tried to simulate what Adrian had felt, still moving
his hips by rocking them back and forth and pressing his soap
covered body up against the shower wall as he massaged his rigid
penis into the tiles. He felt as slippery as an eel and very much
alive. Mark whimpered quietly as his body demanded even more of
him.
Then finally, unable to hold back, Mark placed both of his
hands on his buttocks and pulled his cheeks wide apart to open his
crack. His hands were covered in soap and the rubbery flesh was
hard to grasp.As his fingers stroked into the depth of his crack,
he felt warm and happy, very happy. For the first time in his eleven
years he was aware of the sensations that seemed to gush forth from
his anus. Until then, that part of his body had been no more than
a tiny puckered hole that he washed each morning to keep himself
clean and healthy, the part that he'd wiped with toilet paper, that
he'd never thought about as being enjoyable.
What began as a gentle soft rubbing gradually became harder
and faster. His tight anus opened slowly of its own accord with the
soap and warmth and gentle stimulation so that his forefinger
popped inside. It was hot, hotter than he'd ever expected. And it
was soft inside too. It felt spongy until his finger twisted
slightly and touched the smooth velvety walls of his rectum. Then
meeting the firm resistance of young muscle, he pushed down deeper.
It felt nice the boy decided as his finger squirmed almost without
guidance from him. It was as if it knew what to do, sinking deeper
until it was past the second joint. It felt tight inside as his
sphincter sent powerful closing contractions and squeezed on the
little intruder as it tried to resist it's entry. Mark wondered how
a man's huge penis could ever fit inside him. The passage seemed
barely large enough to accommodate his slender, small finger. Then
he remembered Adrian saying that his uncle had done this to him for
a long while, an hour or more. That was the time that Adrian's uncle
had,... the time.... Mark closed his eyes and tried to blot out his
recollection of Adrian's words. With all of his mind he tried to
pretend that it hadn't happened and that Adrian was still a virgin
and innocent like himself.
Then the boy's thoughts changed and the finger was a man's
finger demanding entry into him. It felt good but not like Adrian
had described. Still Mark's breathing became heavy and he trembled
as he investigated the new feelings, until for no reason his finger
was in very deep and it pushed back up towards his belly.
"Ohhhh Shit!" Mark swore as his legs nearly gave way under
him. He had to balance himself against the wall of the shower to
avoid falling down to the floor. For a moment he couldn't believe
that the weird surge of pressure he'd felt had actually come from
inside him.
He probed cautiously and tested the spot again as he tried to
repeat the intense sensations. A little to the other side, "Oh,....
Yeah!" he breathed out quickly. He leaned back and braced himself
against the side of the shower before he collapsed. Mark waited a
moment, took a deep breath, then probed again. This time he knew
where the spot was. "Oh! Oh God!" he gasped as his heart jumped in
ecstasy. He did it again, and then again. He began to stroke his
finger up and down all the time pushing hard into his belly. Within
a few seconds he discovered that if he strained downwards and
tightened the muscles in his belly, thighs, and deep inside his
body it quickly became even more incredible. The boy didn't know
that he was forcing his immature prostate against his finger. All
he knew was that he had never felt so good in his entire life.
And then he understood what Adrian had been saying. He knew
why Adrian had liked it and why he'd done it again and again, until
his body was bruised and sore. Mark stopped. His hand was shaking
uncontrollably. He eased his finger outward until the tip was
barely inside him and he breathed deeply. Adrian's uncle had used
two fingers. Slowly he placed his fingers side by side, took
another deep breath and squeezed them forward as he forced them
upward and into his little anus. This time the entry was stopped,
but only momentarily as he pushed harder. One finger and then the
other slid inside. His inward progress was stopped only when his
knuckles were hard against his crack.
Mark paused. He was breathing quickly now with little gasps,
panting like a dog on a hot summer's day. It felt different. It
felt a whole lot bigger than one finger by itself. It was much
harder to wriggle his finger or to press into his 'special' spot,
although he liked it just as much he decided quickly. With the added
finger it rubbed and squeezed more on the sensitive rim of his anus.
His young body glowed with a fire that once started, had quickly
spread outward from the little opening until it consumed his entire
body. Now his spine tingled as his body focused on the feelings
that arose inside his tight rectum and he twitched and writhed
uncontrollably as they flowed over him. Occasional spasms tortured
his young body. Like cramps they tightened on his fingers until he
was throbbing inside. It was as if he could feel the pulsing of
every tiny artery within his body.
When he could stand the delicious agony no longer he withdrew
one finger and used the other to knead his 'special spot'. He pumped
the finger for as long and as hard as he dared. Adrian's description
of something growing inside and getting bigger and stronger was
remarkably accurate. Like Adrian, Mark found that he wanted to
stop. But as soon as he did stop he was desperate to start again
and then he was unable to go for more than a few seconds.
It was frightening, slightly painful, and incredible
wonderful, all at the same time. He glanced down. Most of the soap
had washed away and his penis limp. The little appendage had
retracted slightly into his body and his testicles had tightened
into a little firm, and very taut lump below. He became aware that
his knees were shaking uncontrollably. There seemed to be nothing
that he could do to regain control of his body.
Mark lost all sense of time. He was unable to stop. His mind
drifted aimlessly from one vague, unfocused image to another as he
was overpowered by the intense feelings that surged up into his
body. Then finally, after what seemed an eternity but in reality
was not much more than ten minutes, Mark found the energy to break
through the barrier that had always stopped him. Each time as he
rubbed faster and harder it had left him trembling and writhing and
barely able to stand. But each time he had stopped just short of
the prize that he sensed lay ahead. He knew that something even
more wonderful awaited him if only he could continue just a little
while longer. He started doing it faster and faster, pumping his
finger desperately into the 'special' spot inside him. He used all
of the strength that remained to him to squeeze down on his plunging
finger. He groaned. He wanted only for it to end,... to go on
forever.
Mark started to tremble as he felt a cry bursting out of his
throat. Something seemed to burst inside his belly and he
convulsed. He shuddered violently and fell heavily to the floor.
His head knocked slightly against the tiled wall and he lay dazed
and frightened. Unknown to the boy, pale, almost clear urine
trickled out of the tiny puckered end of his penis as his bladder
emptied.
"Mark,... Mark,... Are you okay in there?" his father called
out as he knocked loudly at the door. The door opened and the man
moved into the bathroom swiftly. "Mark, son, are you okay?"
The boy looked up at his father dumbly, "Huh?" he mumbled as
his consciousness returned. Mark shook his head and then remembered
what he had been doing just moments earlier. "Huh? 'Fell down.
'Think I slipped on the soap, Dad. I hit my head too. 'Think I'm
okay,..."
John went to the shower and reached in over the boy's head and
turned off the water. The thundering roar in Mark's ears stopped.
The boy tilted his head back and looked up at his father as he tried
to focus his thoughts. He remembered again, his hand, his right
hand, his forefinger, his forefinger had been inside his bottom.
Something inside his body felt as though it had exploded. He lifted
his hand up and inspected it in slow motion. There was no sign, no
sign at all of what he'd done. His father reached down. His father's
strong hands grasped his and lifted him upwards. Mark's legs were
strangely weak and he tottered, almost falling to the floor again.
Again he was lifted up and out of the shower. Mark braced himself
against the vanity as his father toweled him dry gently, like a
little baby. Both father and son were oblivious to the young boy's
nakedness. His father dried his son's little-boy genitals with a
soft fluffing motion and gave a playful swipe at the boy's
buttocks, not realizing that the boy's crack concealed a now-very-
loose little hole in it's center. Then John lifted him up and
carried seventy-seven pounds of naked boy back into the bedroom.
He deposited the boy in the soft warmth of his bed and straightened
the slender smooth limbs. John lifted the sheet up and over the
naked little body and then sat down beside his son to rub his
slender back through the sheets until the boy dozed off.
Then John went over to the wall, switched off the lights and
came back to the bed. He stood for long minutes, looking down at
the tousled head of his sleeping son. He breathed slowly as he
admired the slender form under the sheet, the graceful lithe curve
of the bare brown arm, the perfect smooth skin, the small nose
slightly upturned, the steady but barely visible rise and fall of
the boy's chest. Finally he turned and tiptoed out, leaving the
door open behind him.
As soon as he was outside the door to Mark's bedroom John
stopped and leaned against the wall. His penis had become erect and
it strained into his shorts as it became caught in his underpants.
His penis throbbed with unbelievable rigidity. His body was flushed
and he could feel the sweat building on his face. His heart was
pounding inside his chest and the image of his naked son was
flashing vividly in his mind. Time and time again his son's
beautiful face came back to him and it was enough to frighten him.
But what affected him more than anything else was his memory of the
perfect child's body and the small, still-immature sex organs that
adorned it. He could remember every detail, the little
uncircumcised penis, the small taut knot of his scrotum, even the
two tiny bulges of the boy's testicles in the little wrinkled
pouch.
John closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of
something else. He forced his mind to return to his work, to the
paper he was soon to deliver in Boston, to the fun that he had that
evening with Mark and Adrian. But again the memory returned.
Increasingly he had begun to think of Mark in a way that disgusted
him. He loved Mark. His son was the only thing of real importance
in his life. He lived for Mark. His guilt grew until he was ashamed
of his thoughts of Mark as a beautiful and very sexy young boy. He
tried to avoid the inevitable conclusion that his own son aroused
him. His own son produced a powerful attraction that went far
beyond the accepted boundaries of a father-son relationship for
what John had experienced as he carried the naked boy to his bed
was purely physical. He felt an overwhelming guilt that was born
of his excitement and the knowledge that haunted him.
For years, for long painful years, John had repressed the
desires of his childhood and youth. Memories of the passion of he
had known came back to him as he leaned against the wall outside
his son's bedroom. The memories were painful flashbacks that were
interspersed with thoughts of Mark. Mark naked. Mark masturbating.
Mark sucking on his penis. Mark lying on his bed with his legs
lifted back to his shoulders.....
Breathing heavily, John walked down the hall and slowly
descended the stairs. He had to get as far away as possible from
Mark's bedroom, from his beautiful young son. By the time he
reached his study he was shaking. His breathing had become erratic
and his head was spinning with images of Mark and the boys of his
own youth. They paled in comparison with Mark. He hadn't loved
those boys.
John sat down in his chair and stared at the computer. He
sighed, then rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in
his hands. He needed relief. He needed Mark. "Oh God," he whispered
as the thought welled up in his mind. He shook his head in
disbelief. "No! Not Mark! God help me!," he said quietly as he shook
his head again and again. His agony fed on itself. The more he tried
to avoid his hunger the worse it became. It seemed to consume him.
John fought to resist but the thoughts lured him onwards making him
even more aroused. He had to relieve the pressure somehow. He
surrendered and reached forward and switched on the computer. Long
seconds passed as the machine booted up and then the login prompt
appeared. He logged on as 'jgordon' and entered his password,
'marco11'. Marco11, his son's name and age.
Almost half a minute passed as the computer initiated the
array of programs that he might use normally for research or
consulting. Finally he was able to change to his 'special'
directory and he listed the contents. He was breathing quickly as
he looked for one file in particular. Then he remembered that he
had called it simply 'dylan', after the boy that the story was
about. John began to read, scanning the first few pages quickly as
it chronicled the growing infatuation of a man for a boy who was
only one year older than Mark. His breathing slowed as he read. The
man was not unlike himself. The story had been posted to the
Internet only a month or two earlier. From the very first chapter
the story had been unusual. It was emotional and it was painful.
It captured the man's shame and self-loathing as the story
unfolded. It was also a beautiful story that made John even more
aware of the feelings, dangerous as they were, that he had for his
own son.
His penis got harder and harder and he tried to resist the
urge that he knew he could never stop. It had always been there.
He had grown up like that. Although at first the desire had been
only for older men, it had changed when he was seventeen. He tried
to remember the little boy's name but he couldn't. It was so long
ago, nearly twenty five years ago. A lifetime of pain. John shook
his head and struggled back to the present. He paged through the
story until he found what he wanted. It was a frank discussion about
Dylan's emerging sexuality. He stopped reading quickly and began
to study it carefully. It was so realistic that he could hear them
speaking. It was a conversation that he wanted to have with Mark.
He wondered again, as he many times over the last few years, whether
his beautiful eleven year-old son was gay.
Unable to resist any longer, John stood up. He breathed deeply
as he unfastened his belt and opened his zipper. He pushed his
shorts and underpants down past his knees and sat down on the chair
again. Freed of the constriction of clothes, his penis began its
increase its insistent demands. He surrendered again. Slowly his
fingers enclosed the hot hard shaft. His thumb looped over the
glans and smeared the clear juice that had oozed out. His thumb
circled around the head, then slowly, still reading, he began to
masturbate.
The thought came from nowhere and it surprised him. For the
first time he thought of his own son in Dylan's place. The idea was
not disgusting to him. In fact, the more that he thought about it,
the more it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. There
was a vicarious pleasure in the idea of his own son discovering his
sexuality with another man and exploring the feelings that came
with loving. As he read, John knew that above all, he wanted his
son to enjoy his beautiful young body without the fear and guilt
that he had known when he was a boy growing up and finding that he
was attracted to his own sex. But whether he would openly condone
a relationship such as that described in the story he didn't know.
It was complicated by the fact that the boy was still so young. If
he was older, a teenager, it would be a different matter.
He began to rub faster as he pumped his hand up and down. His
grasped his penis tightly and the glans flare out and become a deep
purple color. His breathing became ragged and he could no longer
concentrate on the story. His testicles began to tighten, squeezing
again and again as his orgasm approached. John closed his eyes and
began to fantasize about his son. He pretended that Mark was
masturbating his own little penis as he sat beside him. The boy's
head was thrown back, his long dark eyelashes fluttering, his
slender neck arched. The boy was gasping and whimpering as he
struggled for relief that was still dry and unfulfilling. He
imagined his son's hand on his own penis. He could feel the silky
softness of the small hand as it held his throbbing shaft and jerked
relentlessly. His semen boiled up and spurted outward, splattering
over his belly with drips flying onto the keyboard of his computer
and as high as his chest. The last of it oozed out of the slit and
dribbled down between his still moving hand and his now-softening
penis. He breathed out.
John continued to read, searching for the section of the story
where the boy lost his virginity and found love. It was, John
decided, a beautiful way for a boy to discover what it meant to be
gay. It was the way he wanted for his own son, if he had a choice.
Not that it had to happen in a sunny glade overlooking a pool but
rather it would happen with kindness and love and caring. Above
everything else, he wanted Mark to know love.
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It was too easy for
a man to take advantage of a sensitive young boy like Mark. After
his body had been plundered there had to be more than the pain and
suffering that he had known at first. His son, any boy for that
matter, had to get something back. There had to be more than mere
friendship involved. Even at thirteen, love had been what he had
wanted but love had been what Skip had been able or unwilling to
give him. John closed his eyes and remembered what had happened to
him nearly thirty years ago.
Chapter 3. Nearly Thirty Years Ago.
At thirteen, John Gordoni had yet to begin puberty. In fact,
he was not even close to starting puberty, and like any boy who
matures late, he was smaller, a lot smaller than other boys of his
age. That problem was exacerbated by the fact that he was in an
advanced placement class. Fourteen-year-old boys towered above
him. His slender body was still devoid of hair and he spoke in a
boy-soprano. He was unlike all of the other boys in his class and
he was openly resented because he was brighter. For John, school
was a collection of painful memories. Being at an all-boys Catholic
school didn't help much either, though at least he did not have to
endure the torment as the boys around him began to flirt and date
girls.
At thirteen, John Gordini had little interest in girls, or
boys for that matter. His entire life was his schoolwork. He was a
straight-A student and never less than second in his class. He had
few friends and certainly none that could be called 'close', or
'best-friends'. His sexual explorations were practically
nonexistent though in the months following his thirteenth birthday
they slowly became more frequent. His penis was a barely noticed
appendage between his legs and the few erections that he had
experienced were accompanied by both shame and guilt. Although the
stiffening of that part of his young body was accompanied by
feelings that were pleasant, they were not enjoyable. His erections
occurred only when he saw pictures of naked, or partially naked
males. There was no one that the boy could talk to about his ever-
increasing confusion. His father would certainly never understand.
But what was even worse was the fact that he had never confessed
that his body was aroused that way. He knew he should, the
alternative was Hell!
John grew up in a city neighborhood that was primarily of
Italian descent. After the end of the Second World War, Italy had
been chaotic with chronic shortages of food and just about
everything else. America was the 'promised land' and both his
mother and father had migrated to the U.S. from Venice. They met
on the long boat voyage and were married within the first few months
of arriving in their new home. John was first generation Italian-
American. He attended Mass with his mother and father every Sunday
even before he was able to walk. Every Sunday until the time he
left for college he silently prayed for forgiveness for all of his
sins.
It was Father Pietro, who suggested that John join the
recently formed boy scout troop being sponsored by the church. At
first his father had argued against it but, as his mother put it,
'it'll be good for him, perhaps he'll make some friends his own
age'. 'But will it make him grow into a man?' his father had asked
with a snide jeer at his son's masculinity. His mother had not
answered that question but she had held out for her son. Finally
his father had relented and John was inducted into the local scout
troop.
The troop met every Wednesday evening in the church basement.
Dressed smartly in his new uniform, it was a very proud, though
nervous boy that attended the next meeting. The scoutmaster, Steven
Brand (once Brandini), was affectionately called 'Skip' by the
boys. On that first meeting Skip took John aside and talked about
life in the scout troop. Right from the start John felt as though
Skip liked him, but then, the feeling was mutual. Unlike his
father, Skip seemed genuinely interested in him.
After John's first few weeks in the troop had passed, Skip
started a program that would lead to self-defense badges for the
boys. In the neighborhood where John lived, self-defense was
becoming increasingly important. Basic judo throws and falls were
covered over the next few weeks. John was paired with Paul, a twelve
year-old boy. Paul was still somewhat bigger than John was despite
the one year difference in their ages. Time and time again as they
practiced on the mats John came off second best but every time he
got up bravely and tried again. Again and again, the plucky
youngster came back at the bigger, taller boy, only to hit the mat
hard and sometimes painfully.
At nine o'clock on an early spring evening the meeting
finished. As the boys dashed off, Skip asked John to stay and help
to put away the mats. Eagerly, John agreed. More and more he had
become aware of the fact that Skip liked him. Again and again he
had looked at Skip only to discover that Skip was looking at him.
Their eyes met and each time something seemed to pass between them.
Each look was a look of recognition. As they carried the mats into
the storeroom the looks were replaced by smiles. All but three of
the mats were put away when Skip stopped for a break. He leaned
back against the pile of mats they had already carried into the
storeroom.
"Paul gave you a hard time tonight, didn't he?" Skip observed.
John nodded and shrugged. "He's a lot bigger than me. It's
hard to stop him when he tries to throw me."
"You're thirteen, aren't you John?"
"Uh huh, last Thanksgiving. Paul's only twelve and he's still
a lot bigger than me," the boy said resentfully.
Skip grinned. "Give it time. Anyway you're a lot smarter. Not
just a year smarter either." The boy smiled shyly and looked down
at his feet absently. "You have to use your brains to beat a bigger
boy."
"Yeah! Sure," John said unconvinced. "I'm the smallest kid
here."
Skip nodded. "You're also the smartest kid in the troop, John.
So use your brains."
"Sure! And just how do I do that?" the boy retorted.
The man smiled and placed his arm around John's shoulders. The
boy felt uncomfortable for a moment but he settled down quickly.
His mother was always hugging and kissing him, but never his
father. For an Italian, that was unusual in itself but John could
not remember the last time when his father had even touched him.
Mostly his father wasn't at home, and if he was then he was always
too busy to spend time with his young son. It was always the
'business'. John was lonely. Suddenly he realized that he liked
having Skip's arm around his shoulders. He felt a pleasant warmth
from the man's arm and a deep happy feeling. He wanted to be held
and hugged by the tall dark-tanned man beside him but he didn't
know what to do about it. Slowly he edged sideways, moving just an
inch at a time until his body was against Skip's. The arm around
his shoulders seemed to tighten and draw the teenager even closer.
Now John could feel the warmth of the man's body sinking into his.
"Listen, John," Skip said gently. His voice was very quiet and
controlled. "Next time when you're on the mats with Paul use your
head. Get him to expect what you will do then surprise him."
"Yeah! Sure Skip! I'll still end up flat on my back," John
smiled. "He's faster than I am. It's like he expects me to do
something and he's waiting."
Skip squeezed the boy's shoulder playfully. "Maybe you have
to fight dirty," he said quietly.
"Fight dirty? You mean,... down there," the boy whispered in
shock. "I thought that was bad. Scouts aren't s'posed to fight like
that."
Skip laughed, "That wasn't what I had in mind. Only cowards
fight like that. Come on, I'll show you." He stood up and with his
arm around the reluctant boy's shoulders, guided him back into the
hall where the last three mats were still lying on the floor. "Now
John, you come at me on this side. Okay?"
The boy rushed forward and Skip caught his wrist and spun the
boy around, grabbed him by the waist and ended up with a playful
hug. "Now that is what I mean by not using your brains. I expected
you to come in high and on the right side so I was ready. Next time
I want you to come in high again but drop down and swing to the
left. As soon as I start turning, then you turn back and come in
fast. Right?"
John nodded and tried to do as Skip asked. His first approach
was awkward and Skip still managed to stop him. This time he held
the boy around the chest with one arm and tickled him under the
arms with his other hand. John burst into giggles and tried to pull
away but Skip held him tightly. It was only when the boy was
laughing wildly that Skip finally released him. John pulled away
breathlessly. That nearly-minute of frenzied tickling had made him
feel very strange. He had never been tickled before by a man and
even his mother had not tickled him in ages. The boy recognized
immediately that it was not the tickling that made him feel 'funny'
but the fact that a man had been doing it. He looked at Skip as he
tried to regain his composure. Skip smiled back and raised his
eyebrows. It was a challenge, nothing more, nothing less.
John took a deep breath and rushed forward. This time he
feinted to the left, ducked and swung back to the right. He sensed
that the man was moving back to protect his flank and he swung back
to the left with a perfect twist. He hit hard and fast as he clawed
the man's hand, ducked down and went into a throw position. Ninety-
four pounds of aggressive boy was no match for a grown man and his
attack was easily fended off but Skip had proven his point. He
grabbed John and held him tightly, tickling under the boy's ribs
until he giggled hysterically. John struggled fruitlessly but he
had no desire to escape. Finally Skip lifted him right up into the
air and, with his arms wrapped around the slender boy, swung him
upside down. It served only to make John laugh even harder. Slowly
Skip lowered John down onto the mat and he knelt down so that he
half-straddled the young boy.
"Now," he smiled, "That's using your brains. If I was Paul you
would have thrown me."
John grinned and wiped his eyes, smearing away tears of
laughter. "Yeah! I guess. You weren't expecting me to do that were
you."
Skip smiled back. "Not wrong kiddo. I was waiting for the left
of course but you moved so fast."
John breathed heavily. He wanted to ask Skip to hold him some
more. He wanted the man to hug him like before. He wanted Skip to
stay exactly where he was, half over him. His hands clasped in
childish frustration and he looked up into Skip's blue-green eyes.
The man smiled at him gently. It was silent in the room but John
could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Skip reached forward and
his fingers brushed against the boy's cheek. John shivered with
excitement, though he didn't realize that what he felt was
excitement. He breathed deeply. He was unable to look away from the
man's eyes. It was as if Skip was looking deep inside his mind.
"You're not only the smartest boy in the troop, John,...
you're also the best looking," Skip whispered.
John blushed, suddenly aware that he had also been thinking
how handsome Skip was. He liked the man's rugged face and the
darkness on his face from the shadow of his beard. He liked the
man's smell. It was a pleasant aroma of cologne. The desire for
Skip to touch his body rose up inside the boy and overwhelmed him.
Skip's fingers strayed to the boy's lips and lightly brushed
against them. Without warning Skip stood up, leaving the boy lying
alone on the mats. The man reached down, offered John a hand up and
easily lifted the boy to his feet. At that moment there was chaos
in John's head, a plethora of confused feelings and thoughts, the
knowledge that it was wrong, that what he had been thinking was
very, very bad. He stood before the man and tried to make sense of
it. He felt terribly hot and his breathing had quickened until he
was almost gasping. He wanted to lie back down on the mats with
Skip. He didn't want to stop the strange feelings that surged
through his body. Guiltily the boy realized that his little penis
had become very, very hard. He knew that it had become hard only
because of Skip.
"Skip?" John whispered nervously.
The man smiled gently and gently ruffled the boy's dark hair.
The man didn't answer. He looked directly into the boy's eyes as
if he was searching for something, for recognition. "Are you
scared?" he asked the boy. John thought for a second and then
nodded. His penis flexed instinctively, hungrily. The man smiled
at the boy. "It's okay to be scared. Every boy is a bit scared the
first time I think." John looked at the man hesitantly and
swallowed nervously. Skip's hand dropped downward and caressed the
boy's small ear and then his fingers moved behind the boy's neck
and began twisting in the soft dark hair. "Do you want to go home
now?" he asked. "You can if you want. Or you can stay here with me
for a while?"
"You want me to stay with you so,... you can,... touch me?"
the boy asked in reply. Skip nodded. "It's bad. I know it is. Boys
will make fun of me. My mom and dad will kill me."
"Only if they find out, John. I'm not going to tell. Are you?"
John shook his head. "I'm scared. I,... I've nnnever felt
ttthhis wwway before," he stammered nervously
Skip nodded. "You won't be scared for very long. I'm not going
to hurt you. You trust me don't you?" John nodded. His resistance
crumbled. He wanted the man to hug him again. He wanted to feel the
man's powerful body pressed against him. He had no idea of where
the desire came from but it filled his mind. He nodded slowly.
Gently Skip drew John forward and pressed his lips against the
boy's forehead. He kissed the boy and then eased him away. John
quivered as he breathed heavily. Skip's hand dropped away and took
hold of the boy's hand that was nearest to him. He caressed the
slender fingers and rubbed his thumb into the boy's palm. Slowly
he walked forward, pulling the boy with him into the storeroom. It
was dark inside and he pushed the boy back until the mats were
behind him.
John stood so close to the man that he could feel the man's
chest press into his with each breath. The man released his hand
and slowly moved it upwards over the boy's belly and chest. The
fingertips stroked over the firm flesh as they traced the center-
line of the young body, pulling slightly at each shirt button. At
the boy's neck they stopped, caressing the delicate bare skin for
a moment before continuing upwards to his chin. Skip lifted the
boy's head upward and kissed the smooth forehead again. "Do you
mind if I take your pants off?" he whispered.
"Yeah! I guess it's okay," John answered shamefully.
The man's hand moved downwards again and fumbled at the boy's
waist as his fingers unfastened the belt, the little plastic button
and the zipper. Skip's hand paused, then after a few long seconds
it slowly slid down into the soft warmth of the boy's underpants.
John sighed and Skip's fingers brushed against the short, very
excited shaft of his penis. He sighed again as the fingers moved
lower, following the rigid little penis until they scooped into the
little cloth-covered mound of the boy's testicles. He sighed again
as the man's hand cupped his small sex organs and held him firmly.
Skip's fingers were soothing. The man's hand was strong and yet it
was also very gentle. John slowly relaxed, feeling his strength and
resistance sucked out of him by the man's constantly moving hand.
He closed his eyes and lost all sense of time. Except for the
wonderful delight that surged out of his groin, John Gordini was
oblivious to the world around him.
Minutes later the boy realized that Skip had taken both his
shorts and underpants down and the man's hand was now touching his
bare flesh. He didn't care. The feelings that he had were so
overpowering that the boy cared about nothing else. When Skip
pushed him back onto the pile of mats he did not resist. When Skip
finally pulled his shoes, shorts and underpants off he did not
resist. When Skip bent forward over his half-naked body and kissed
his lower belly and the inside of his thighs he did not resist.
When Skip kissed, then licked, then sucked his small hard penis
into his mouth, the boy arched his back and pushed up with his
thighs to get even more inside. The heat flooded him as he was
absorbed into the wet succulent mouth. Then Skip pushed his
testicles forward with his fingers and sucked them into his mouth
as well. It seemed to John as if his entire body was held inside
the man's mouth and he wanted it to never end.
Long wonderful minutes passed as John discovered just how he
was different he was to most other boys. They were unbelievable
minutes as Skip introduced the young boy to the pleasures contained
in his slender body. The boy writhed in shameless ecstasy as he
abandoned his body to the man's expert handling. Within minutes he
had started to buck wildly, jerking his hips upwards and pumping
his little rigid penis as hard as he could into the man's mouth.
That he enjoyed it so much seemed to make Skip happy as well. But
the boy was still several years from being able to climax and
achieve release so he eventually tired, unable to fulfill the
desire that now dominated him. Then Skip took over and his head
began to bob up and down rapidly. His teeth seemed to bite into the
shaft of the boy's penis while his fingers massaged the little
knotted pouch below. He went as fast as the boy wanted and then
some, sucking the penis as hard as he could, so hard that it seemed
to suck the life and energy out of the boy.
With only the tip of John's penis in his mouth, Skip began to
nibble on the sensitive glans, working on the tiny cherry-red tip
until the boy cried out for mercy. As soon as Skip pulled away John
shook his head and reached down and pushed the man's head back
again. The boy was breathing in irregular gasps as he thrust his
thighs up and jammed his penis back where it now belonged. Skip
needed no encouragement and expertly his hand slid underneath the
boy's buttocks and followed the little scrotum back into the boy's
crack. His finger found the small tight anus and he began to rub
gently. Seconds later, John's body convulsed and the thirteen-year-
old boy had his very first orgasm, albeit dry and more than a little
bit painful.
The Wednesday evenings that followed that night became John's
favorite times. Each time Skip went a bit further and John was
always an eager pupil. Within a few weeks he was readily removing
all of his clothes and lying on the pile of mats in the storeroom
while Skip applied his expert skills to the delight of the young
body. Sometimes he stayed at the hall after nine o'clock on the
pretext of practicing an activity like tying knots. At other times
he was given the duty of cleaning up, the punishment for a
fabricated charge that he had misbehaved during the evening. More
often than not he left with the other boys but after a half block
or more turned back and unnoticed, returned to the basement.
After slightly more than a month had passed the urge to see
Skip's body was more than he could stand and John invited the man
to join him. That night Skip drove him to the building in which he
lived. John walked in the door at a few minutes past ten o'clock.
He was a very different boy to the still-somewhat-innocent boy that
had departed only a few hours earlier that evening. He lied
expertly as he told his mother that he had been practicing knots
again. It was something that he had to do to get his next badge.
After a goodnight kiss the thirteen-year-old boy went up to his
bedroom, undressed and pulled on his pajamas. He dropped down into
the security of his bed and remembered everything that had happened
during the last hour of his life. He slid his hand under his pajama
top and tried to see if he could still feel the stickiness of the
man's semen. On the mats he had been covered with it, from his
thighs to his shoulders.
When John had suggested that it wasn't fair that only he was
naked, Skip had readily agreed. John had looked at the man with
fascination as he undressed, then in utter disbelief as he realized
that the man's penis was huge. It was so much bigger than his own
small erection that the boy was frightened. He was also excited,
more excited than he had ever been. He touched it tentatively at
first. It didn't bite but it certainly felt hot and hard. It had a
power and strength that his own little penis lacked. It was a man's
penis and at first John was jealous. When Skip lay down on the mats
next to him and their genitals were pressed together, John's
jealousy faded. They rubbed their naked bodies together, writhing
in delight as they tumbled and twisted against each other.
Then Skip had placed John above him so that the man's huge
erect penis pushed into the soft smooth skin of the boy's belly.
With his thumbs on the John's hips and his fingers pressing into
the warmth of the small deep crack, he began to move the boy's body.
The rhythm came naturally and within minutes John was humping hard
and fast against the man, his motions guided only by the man's
finger that was now halfway inside his little anus. Several times
Skip stopped him and made him wait until his imminent orgasm
passed. Finally, Skip didn't stop him and John kept on, enjoying
the delicious warmth of the man until his body arched up and he
lifted the naked boy up into the air. The semen seemed to spurt out
endlessly. At first the boy was shocked and his instinct made him
try to pull away but Skip held him tightly by the hips and continued
to jerk the small body up and down against his throbbing cock. The
white-hot fluid seemed slippery as it covered the boy's bare chest
and belly. John closed his eyes and began to enjoy the lubricity
of their two bodies, sliding back and forth in it and no longer
caring that the man's semen was all over him.
That night marked the change in John's relationship with Skip
and for the first time the boy began to understand what it meant
to be homosexual. Every night from then on as he masturbated alone
in his bed he dreamed of Skip. He wanted to be with Skip, he wanted
only to be loved in the way that he needed. Every Wednesday evening
the boy became even more aroused and he willingly participated with
Skip in discovering the pleasures of their bodies.
Chapter 4. The Pleasures of Their Bodies
The next morning Mark awoke and found to his surprise that he
had slept in the nude. He stretched out in his bed as the first
light of the day came through his window and enjoyed the sybaritic
pleasure of coolness of the sheets against his bare smooth skin.
He winced suddenly as he felt a raw ache inside his body. As he
became more aware, the ache changed to a strange soreness in his
bottom and the feeling that something was still inside him. His
little sphincter tightened instinctively and the discomfort seemed
to fade. Then he remembered what he'd done the night before, the
overwhelming feelings that had surged through him until he had
finally collapsed onto the floor. He remembered his father lifting
him out of the shower and standing him up and gently drying him
off, the towel soft and fluffy as it passed over him. He smiled as
he remembered the playful dabs at his genitals before his father
carried him into the bedroom. Outside it seemed darker than usual
and then Mark realized that it was raining.
As the memory returned Mark became aware that his penis was
hard again. It was hard like it was almost every morning, demanding
his attention again and again. It was funny that something so small
could feel so nice. Even though he was used to how it felt, he still
wanted to do it. His fingers moved slowly downwards and brushed
over his smooth hairless groin, tickling his warm soft penis as it
stuck outward next to his belly. Gently he pulled the foreskin back
by pushing down on the silky skin tightly. The tiny bulb of his
penis finally squeezed through the little opening and the skin
bunched underneath making the little flared bell-shaped head even
firmer. His foreskin was still tight but his father had told him
that it would gradually get looser over the next few years. He liked
the fact that it was tight, even though it was hard to pull back
sometimes, it made his little penis seem even harder and the
feelings that came from it were especially nice. He casually
stroked his penis and rubbed his fingertips lightly up and down the
little stiff shaft. He caressed his testicles gently and then went
back to massaging the glans of his penis until he felt like he was
in heaven and he quivered with delight.
The boy did it for a long while though never building up to a
peak, just enjoying the pleasant sensations that began in his short
rigid penis and flowed through him. He did it until it was lighter
in his room. He listened to the comforting sound of rain splashing
on the window and the rhythmic slap of his little testicles as they
bounced up and down when he masturbated. He did it until his father
knocked on the door, "I'm leaving for work now," he called out.
"Bye dad," the boy yelled back. Mark pulled the sheet up
quickly to cover his naked body and smiled as his father opened the
door.
"You feel okay now?" the man asked with concern.
"Yeah I'm fine, Daddy. I just slipped and fell. That's all."
He grinned at his father. "I got a bump on my head I think."
"Well you have to be more careful. It's easy to break a leg
falling like that. What are you going to do today? It's supposed
to rain all day."
"I guess I'll go over to Adrian's," Mark answered.
The man nodded and reached down and lovingly tousled his son's
silky dark hair. The boy grinned cheekily. "See you tonight. If
it's still raining I'll swing by and pick you up at Adrian's house,
okay?" he said as he walked back towards the door.
"Thanks Dad. Bye!" the boy said. In those few minutes his
enjoyment and interest in the feelings that came from his little
penis had faded and the boy got out of bed. He showered quickly,
dressed and went down stairs to find something to eat before he
went over to see Adrian. He didn't feel much like eating cereal so
he settled for a glass of milk and then left for his friend's house.
All that day it rained and the two boys played at Adrian's
house for the entire day. Mark didn't tell Adrian what he'd done
the night before. It wasn't that he was ashamed about it, it was
just that the opportunity to talk about it never presented itself.
That day, to anyone else, the two boys carried on like perfectly
normal eleven-year-old boys as they played with Adrian's train set
for most of the day. After lunch they watched videos and played
Nintendo until Mark's father came by to pick him up. There was no
mention of sex, of what Adrian had done with his uncle, of the sex-
games the boys often played together when they were alone. It was
later that night, just after eight o'clock when the phone rang at
Mark's house.
Mark's father answered. "Oh hi Adrian. Yes Mark's upstairs.
Just a minute and I'll call him." "MARK! It's for you, it's Adrian."
"Thanks Daddy," Mark called back, "I'll take it up here,
okay?"
The man put the receiver down as he heard the 'click' from the
phone in Mark's bedroom.
"Hi Adrian," Mark said cheerily as he lounged back in the
couch next to the bay window in his bedroom, "How's it going kid?"
"Hi Mark...." the other boy said quietly.
Immediately Mark detected the stress in his friend's voice,
"What's up Adrian?"
"Mark,... can we talk? I,... don't know what,... well what to
do," Adrian said nervously.
"What's wrong? You sound kind of sick. Are you okay?" Mark
asked.
"Mark,... I feel really sick,... I keep getting these bad
pains in my stomach. It's really hurting."
"Have you told your mom? Maybe it's diarrhea?" Mark suggested.
There was a long pause, "I don't think that's it. I,... well
I haven't been to the bathroom. I haven't pooped for days. I think
it's because of what I did with my uncle.... Mark, I'm getting
really worried. Maybe I got hurt inside,... from it," the boy said.
The note of urgency in the other boy's voice convinced Mark that
something was wrong. "Mark, are you there? I think,... I'm going
to be sick. It feels really terrible inside. I feel really hot all
over."
"Gee Adrian. I'm sorry. I don't know. Maybe you should tell
your mom?"
"Don't be dumb, Mark. I can't do that, you know why. But I'm
getting really worried."
Mark thought for a moment, "Maybe you should take something.
You know like ExLax or something like that to make you poop,
Adrian."
The other boy coughed, "I already did that. For the last few
days, since I got back. I still haven't been to the toilet."
"Well I don't know Adrian. I still think you should tell your
mom you don't feel well," Mark suggested.
"I can't Mark. She's going to ask all sorts of questions. I
don't want to see a doctor. If he looks at me, back there, well
he's going to know isn't he, 'cause I'm still bruised pretty
badly?" Adrian said angrily.
"I don't know. Do you feel real bad Adrian?" Mark asked.
"I,... feel like I'm on fire inside, I keep wanting to throw
up,... and it hurts something awful." Adrian groaned and Mark
shivered, now very aware of his best friend's pain.
"I guess we could ask my dad. He'd know what to do."
"Mark, could we,... I mean wouldn't he ask what happened?"
Adrian said nervously.
"Gee Adrian I don't know. My dad's always been good like that.
He might ask, but he has this thing about not telling secrets. I
don't think he'd tell your mom. Why don't you ask your mom if you
can sleep over at my place tonight. We can kind of figure out what
to do then."
"Okay, I'll go ask her," Adrian said. Mark waited on the line
for a few minutes, running his favorite model car, the 928 S4
Porsche, up and down the window sill. "Mark,... are you there?"
"Yeah!"
"She said it was okay. She's going to drop me off in a few
minutes because it's still raining. Are you sure it's okay with
your dad if I stay over?"
"Yeah, he's okay. He always says it's fine by him if you sleep
over. He likes you a lot," Mark said honestly. "See you in a bit,
huh?"
The other boy hung up and Mark looked around. Suddenly the
memory of what he'd done the night before came back. If Adrian had
been hurt doing that 'stuff' he wondered whether he'd been hurt
inside as well. The thought scared him badly. He hadn't been to the
toilet either since the night before. Cautiously the boy probed his
belly with his fingers. There was no pain, just the firmness of his
lean body, but despite that Mark was still worried.
After a few minutes Mark went downstairs. His father was
sitting in the study working on a paper for an upcoming conference.
He looked up as Mark looked into the room. "Hi Marco? How's Adrian?"
he asked.
"Hi Daddy," Mark said as he came into the room. He stopped by
the doorway and leaned casually against the door jamb. His father
smiled as he looked at his handsome young son. The boy was good-
looking, too good-looking, he realized. The boy had a natural grace
about him. There was something sexual in the way his lithe young
body reclined, in the dark silky hair falling over his forehead,
in the dark sensuous eyes. His full lips were almost too passionate
for a boy. He was pure Venetian. His father and mother were both
from the Veneto and Mark had inherited the characteristic long dark
lashes, the thin eyebrows, the small, slightly upturned nose, the
delicate features. He was dressed in a striped tee-shirt. The boy
could have been on a gondola or strolling in the Piazza San Marco.
"What's up, Marco?" he teased, using the Italian form of the
boy's name, his 'pet' name for his son. His eyes were drawn
irresistibly back to the beautiful slender boy before him. In one
way at least, the boy took after his mother; he radiated a barely
concealed sexuality. That he also had his mother's beauty
compounded the problem. His memory of the beautiful naked body
lying on the bed was still very strong in his mind. He forced
himself to look away and back to his paper.
"Daddy, can Adrian stay over tonight?" Mark asked.
"Huh? Yes of course he can, if you two guys behave. I have a
lot of work to get through tonight."
"Yeah! We'll be good, I promise," Mark grinned.
"Won't Adrian get wet? It's still raining outside isn't it?"
he asked.
"Yeah, but his mom's dropping him off in a few minutes," Mark
replied.
The boy's father nodded absently and went back to work. He was
barely aware that a few minutes later both boys came back through
the hall and climbed the stairs to Mark's bedroom.
"How do you feel, Adrian? Is it any better?" Mark asked with
concern as soon as the two boys were safely inside his bedroom.
"It hurts inside Mark something awful. I've never felt this
bad before. I keep getting terrible cramps in my belly," Adrian
replied.
"Do you really think it's because of what you did with your
uncle?" Mark asked nervously, "Maybe it damages you inside if you
do that stuff... You know if a guy puts his penis in your poop hole
like that,... well maybe it does something to you so you can't go
properly afterwards."
Adrian looked up from his seat on the couch, "Mark,... Mark
I'm worried. I don't know what to do."
The other boy sat in his favorite position, cross-legged on
the other chair, like a little slender Buddha. He sighed, "Ad' I
think we've got to tell my dad. He knows about this stuff,... and
if you are hurt somehow, well he can fix you up you know."
Adrian nodded, "Yeah, I guess. But, how can I ask him? If he
sees, he'll probably know what I did with my uncle."
Mark looked thoughtful. "I guess we could ask him like it was
a friend of ours that was sick. Another boy who can't poop and all
that,... and kind of see what he suggests."
Adrian nodded, "I suppose so, but I'm scared Mark."
Mark smiled bravely at his best friend, "I guess we'd better
go down and ask him. We can say it's a friend of yours so you can
tell him the symptoms and stuff."
"I guess, but what if he asks why 'my friend' hasn't been to
see a doctor?"
Mark shrugged, "I suppose we could say his parents didn't have
any money, so he couldn't afford to go. Maybe we could say... No
that wouldn't work,... I guess you could tell my dad the truth,
only make it your friend that was doing it instead of you."
Adrian nodded, unconvinced. He stood up, wincing as another
vicious cramp came without warning. He followed Mark back down the
stairs, walking gingerly. He stopped outside the study and looked
in the door as Mark went up to his father and leaned back against
the burled-walnut desk.
John smiled and looked at his son as he silently admired the
beautiful slender body displayed almost arrogantly before him. "Yes
Marco?" he said. He wasn't really bothered by the interruption to
his work when it was Mark. His eyes lingered momentarily on the
boy's groin, at the small, slightly rounded bulge in his shorts.
Again, the man remembered the boy from the night before. All of the
day he had carried an image of the small immature genitals,
perfectly formed and absolutely hairless. Earlier that day, right
after lunch, he'd been called into an emergency procedure on a six-
year-old black boy for a burst appendix. The appendectomy had gone
well but he still remembered the inescapable fact that the little
boy's penis was probably as large as his own son's. In that instant
John wondered one more time whether he was sexually attracted to
his own son. It was a thought that came to him with increasing
frequency over the last few years. He had begun to realize the boy's
overt sexuality just after Mark had turned nine years old. Even
then it was possible to recognize the characteristics that
identified the boy as likely to be both attracted to, and
attractive to others of his sex. Was the boy gay? It was impossible
to know with any certainty, but it was more than likely he thought.
He looked away and closed his eyes and in the effort to banish the
persistent thoughts into the recesses of his mind.
"Daddy," Mark began, "Adrian and I want to ask you something?"
The man nodded, wondering what the boys were up to. It didn't
have the sound of one of their typical pranks because there was a
serious note in Mark's voice that usually wasn't there. Mark was
innocent and carefree. He was uninhibited and open about almost
everything, even his emerging interest in sex. He often talked
candidly with the boy and as far as he knew there weren't any
secrets between them, except for one and he suspected that even
that one would come out eventually.
John nodded patiently and looked up at the beautiful boy. This
time he made certain that he didn't look at the boy's groin, but
again the memory of what he'd seen the night before came back. "Well
Daddy," Mark began, "Adrian has this friend you see, and he has
this problem. It's well, it's kind of hard to explain. You see his
friend can't go to the toilet,... you know he can't poop. He hasn't
for a while now,... and well, now he's feeling kind of sick and
he's been getting stomach cramps and all."
John raised his eyebrows and looked past his son to Adrian.
The boy was reluctant to come into the room and he approached
cautiously as the man beckoned him in. "Okay Adrian, if he's your
friend perhaps you can describe to me what the problem is?" Adrian
nodded. "Okay, well first thing is, how long has it been since your
friend went last?"
Adrian glanced at Mark nervously, he shrugged, then thought,
"I guess a few days... No more like a week, maybe more... I'm not
sure."
John nodded. "Does you friend have a fever? Does he feel hot?"
he asked as he noticed the faint wetness on Adrian's upper lip and
forehead. Then he noticed the boy's nervousness and the slight
trembling of the small slender body.
Adrian nodded, "He gets really hot at night,... and he's been
getting these terrible pains inside, kind of in his belly, only
more inside than that."
John smiled reassuringly, curious as to what was going on,
"Has you friend been eating something,... well unusual, maybe some
kind of fruit he's not used to, something like that?"
Adrian shook his head then another cramp came and he gasped
as he shuddered in pain. John's eyes went to the boy's face, noting
the grimace of pain and the barely constrained cry. The boy
swallowed and more moisture gathered on his pale forehead. John
looked back at his son, hoping for an answer, but Mark stared back
at him. Finally unable to meet his father's eyes he looked down at
his feet self-consciously.
John placed his elbow on the table and rubbed his eyes with
his fingers. Something was very wrong with Adrian. "Mark, if you
don't mind. I'd like you to go up to your bedroom for a while, okay?
I need to talk to Adrian."
Mark looked at his best friend nervously, then hesitantly
backed out of the room. He was very aware of Adrian's accusing
stare. "Close the door too please Mark, if you would," John added.
He turned back to the other boy, "Sit down please Adrian. Now,
I need to know more to be able to help your friend. I expect he's
about your age right and he's normally quite healthy. Most of the
time this kind of problem is caused by a change in the boy's diet.
Sometimes it's caused by bacteria or a virus, but it can be very
serious. Not having proper bowel movements can make a person very
sick. If it's constipation, well it usually clears up by itself in
a few days. If it's bacterial or viral, then your friend is going
to need proper treatment."
Adrian looked down at the floor, "Doctor Gordon,...are there
any other things that could cause it? Well, like what if it isn't
something he ate, and it isn't a virus or anything like that?"
John shrugged, "There are other things that might cause it,
but they aren't very likely in a boy your age. There could be
something wrong with your friend's digestive system,... an
inflammation of the lower intestine or something like that."
Adrian nodded, clenching his lips as he thought, considering
and weighing the issues that were foremost in his mind. "Well,...
is there some way he could hurt himself inside?"
John looked up, his eyes questioning, "Perhaps. Adrian, that
would depend on what the boy had done. There are some things that
could cause him to have that kind of problem."
Adrian began to feel a terrible panic and despair settled over
him like a crushing weight. His stomach seemed to be turning over
and he swallowed and tried to fight the fear and shame that rushed
into his mind. John smiled at the boy gently. "Adrian, you're
Mark's best friend and I think you know we're friends too. You have
to trust me, not only because I'm a friend, but because I'm a doctor
too. I think you need to be honest with me. I promise that anything
you say will be only between the two of us. Not even Mark will know.
Adrian, can you trust me that much?"
Adrian sighed as he wiped his moist forehead with the palm of
his hand. "You promise? You promise you won't tell my mom?" he
begged.
John nodded, "I promise I won't tell anyone else, Adrian. Not
your mother, not Mark, no one. I promise," he said solemnly.
The boy looked down, wiping his eyes again and again as more
tears formed in his eyes. "Mark already knows Dr. Gordon.... While
I was away at my uncle's farm,... I had sex,... with him." The boy
finally broke and the memories of the fun and joy he'd shared with
his uncle suddenly becoming shameful. His guilt poured out and he
sobbed.
John reached out and placed his hand over the boy's hand.
"It's okay Adrian. It's okay to cry. It's okay."
The boy looked back at the man. His eyes had reddened and his
cheeks were wet with tears. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose
with the back of his hand, then seeing the wet streak he reached
for the handkerchief in his pocket. He wiped his tears away and
blew his nose. "It was wrong. I knew it was at the time but I
couldn't help it. I wanted to do it Doctor Gordon... I wanted to
more than anything in the whole world. He was kind and nice and we
had fun together." The man nodded, still stroking the boy's small
hand reassuringly. "He put his cock in my bottom. He put it all the
way up inside me. We did it lots of times.... He put his 'cum' in
me too. Is that what,... is that what hurt me? Does it do something
bad to me inside?"
John breathed out and looked away, his eyes going to the
window and out into the darkness beyond. "His semen won't hurt you
like that, Adrian," he said gently. "There are other ways that a
man's semen could hurt you, but not like that. His penis could cause
you to have problems though."
Adrian looked at the man curiously. His fear began to
disappear. The man's voice was gentle and understanding and gave
him the comfort that he so desperately needed. "How?" he asked.
John breathed out again. "I don't know your uncle, Adrian, but
a man's penis is usually very big. You aren't that big so when his
penis goes inside you it's very likely that you'll be injured in
some way."
Adrian nodded, "It hurt a lot at first. I guess for the first
few times it was pretty bad and I felt sore afterwards. Then it
stopped hurting and I started to like it."
John nodded, knowing exactly what Adrian had experienced. "The
first few times your anus, where your hole is, has to stretch a
long way and it isn't used to it. Sometimes it tears and bleeds and
makes what are called anal fissures. Those can be very painful but
they'll usually disappear quickly, usually in a week or two. The
tissue is also very delicate inside and it's easily damaged too.
There can be a lot of bruising and that will hurt as well."
The boy smiled slowly as he began to understand, grateful that
the man was explaining what had occurred, "I bled a fair bit the
first time. A little bit sometimes after that, usually when it hurt
going in,... and then it just stopped."
John nodded, "The bleeding is not unusual, Adrian. It stopped
as soon as your uncle took his penis out didn't it?" Adrian nodded.
"The real problem is that his penis pushes your feces up into your
colon and lower intestine. It's called fecal impaction. It forms a
large hard lump and it lodges in your rectum. If it's big enough
then it blocks your bowel movements."
Adrian breathed out, it didn't sound too serious. For the last
two days he'd lived in fear that his uncle's 'cum' had done
something inside him, after all, it was 'cum' that made babies. "I
took ExLax," he said awkwardly, "but it didn't help at all."
The man grinned and shook his head, "It wouldn't, the ExLax
works from the top down and your problem is right at the bottom....
so to speak."
Adrian smiled weakly. "What happens now? I mean,... well how
do I get it out then?"
John smiled, "That's why you see a doctor, Adrian. So are you
my new patient?" The boy grinned and nodded happily. "Okay then,
I'm going to have to examine you. It's very personal and I don't
want you to worry. I have to insert my finger into your bottom and
find out how big the lump inside is and where it's located. Is that
something you can let me do?"
Adrian nodded after a moment's pause, "Yeah I guess."
John smiled reassuringly, "Okay then. Now I have to get
something from the bathroom. I need some Vaseline to help my finger
go inside easier. I want you to take your pants and underpants down
and I'll be right back." Adrian nodded as John came to his feet and
left the room. The boy hesitated for a minute, thinking about what
he'd done with his uncle. He had liked the way his uncle had touched
him and made him feel good. Even when his uncle had finally gotten
into his bed he had been willing and he had liked what happened.
It had hurt a lot at first when his uncle put his penis inside him,
but after a while the pain stopped and then he liked it. He had
been eager to do whatever his uncle wanted and on more that a few
occasions he'd been the instigator. The only bad thing about the
two weeks he'd spent with his uncle was the problem he had now.
By the time John came back into the room Adrian had removed
his pants and underpants and, except for his socks, was naked from
the waist down. He remained standing as John closed the door and
placed the little jar of Vaseline on the desk. Mark's father had
seen the boy naked before many times as the two boys spent a lot
of time together. John had often taken them to the swimming pool
and he'd been in the changing room with the boys many times. That,
plus the fact that Adrian frequently stayed overnight provided
ample opportunity to see the boy naked.
John appraised the young body expertly and made the obvious
comparison with his own son. Adrian was a little thinner than Mark,
though not what could be called skinny. His skin was pale, a lot
lighter than Mark's olive complexion, and smooth with an almost
translucent delicacy. His penis and testicles were noticeably
larger than Mark's, though the differences in their heights and
weights were not that much. John's experienced 'eye' observed that
Adrian's penis was thicker than his son's and tapered from a wide
base to a rounded, circumcised head. He was glad that Mark hadn't
been circumcised, it looked more natural. Neither boy was
physically mature, the onset of puberty still probably several
years away for Mark, but Adrian's larger testicles suggested that
the first phase of puberty had just started or was in the near
offing. This time John's eyes lingered on the boy's small genitals
and it was only with the greatest effort that he finally looked
away. The fact that another man, the boy's uncle, had petted them,
caressed them, sucked them, was strangely exciting to him.
He looked up to find Adrian watching him curiously and the boy
smiled shyly as their eyes met and raised his eyebrows
questioningly. John looked away quickly as he wondered whether
Adrian could see into his mind and read the sudden lust that he
felt for the half-naked boy before him.
"Lean forward over the table please, Adrian," he said. The boy
complied. "That's right put your hips on the edge like that." He
moved closer so that he stood behind the boy. Gently he placed his
hand on the boy's narrow back, feeling the little bumps of his
spine. "Now Adrian, I'm going to insert my finger. It's going to
feel strange at first,... well I guess you know how it feels don't
you? I don't think it will hurt but if it does then say so, okay?"
The boy nodded and John opened the jar and scooped some
Vaseline onto his finger. Clinically, he knew that he should use a
surgical glove, but they were in his car and it was still raining.
He'd thought about it on the way to get the Vaseline. The thought
of his finger inside Adrian's body was very exciting, growing
stronger with each step that he took, finally becoming so strong
that he'd trembled with the intensity of his sexual arousal while
he was in the bathroom.
With his right forefinger thoroughly lubricated, John knelt
down behind Adrian and gently parted the boy's cheeks. He could see
a ring of bruised flesh and he turned the desk lamp so that it
pointed towards Adrian's buttocks. The origin of the boy's problem
was clearly visible. There was a circle, about an inch or more wide,
of dark flesh, brown tinged with purple. It represented the
residual bruising from the entry of the man's much larger penis.
One tiny pinkish line was all that remained from an anal fissure.
"You're healing very well. There's just a little bit of
bruising," John observed. In a few more days there would be no sign
at all of what Adrian had done with considerable frequency over a
two week period. The boy's anus was quite small, probably about the
same size as Mark's, he thought. For a second he wondered whether
Mark was sexually active too. The idea that Mark's body was like
this as well was captivating. Mark was only a few months younger
and far better looking that Adrian. John wondered when his own son
would start having sex. Again he wondered, no hoped, that his own
son was gay. His own life would be considerably more enjoyable if
he was.
He pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind as he
carefully pressed the tip of his finger into the boy's anus. There
was a positive 'anal-wink', an automatic closing reflex that showed
strong muscle control. He pressed forward gently, rotating his
finger slightly so that it was eased in. It wriggled past the anal
muscle and into the compressive tube of the boy's sphincter. Adrian
trembled slightly and John smiled. It wasn't hurting the boy, on
the contrary, Adrian's shiver was one of pleasure. He pushed a
little deeper and felt the hard lump suddenly push back against his
finger. He probed cautiously. The fecal mass was large and very
hard, probably too large to pass through the boy's sphincter. He
considered using his finger to massage the boy's tiny prostate and
dilate the sphincter but he doubted whether the boy's opening could
be stretched wide enough. He smiled to himself, it was surprising
what the body of an eleven-year-old boy could do. A grown man's
penis, and a large one at that, had been inside the boy's tiny hole.
He thought of his own penis, and imagined it sinking into the tight
hot hole that held his finger captive. Adrian wasn't even close to
sexual maturity and he'd enjoyed it. He hoped that Mark would enjoy
it too when the time came. He shook his head and carefully pulled
his finger out.
"Did that hurt?" John asked.
The boy turned around slightly looking over his shoulder,
"No,... it was okay.... Well?"
John came to his feet and moved around so that he stood in
front of the boy. "It's quite a large mass. It's too big to come
out by itself I think. Your uncle must have a big penis," he teased.
Adrian grinned, "Yeah! I guess he's pretty big down there."
He straightened up and added, "So what happens now?"
John could feel his own penis hardening and growing tight in
his underpants. He risked another glance downward. Adrian's penis
was half-erect, the short wedge-shaped shaft pointing downward at
something less than a 45 degree angle.
When he looked up again Adrian was smiling. John swallowed.
Both of them were suddenly silent, both blushing slightly with
embarrassment. He wondered if the boy felt the same thrill that he
did. He moved away, suddenly very conscious of his proximity to the
half-naked boy as he realized the powerful effect the slender young
body was having on him.
"Hmmmm,... The best thing to do right now is to give you an
enema and try to loosen it up. Once it breaks down into smaller
pieces then it should come out easily," he said.
"What's an enema?" Adrian asked.
"I'll put a special fluid inside your bottom to dissolve it
and kind of flush you out. If that doesn't work it's very likely
that you'll have to have surgery. It's only a minor operation
though. It's not usually done on boys your age for one good reason."
Adrian smirked cheekily, "Okay!"
"I'll have to drive down to the drug store and pick up an enema
bag. Why don't you go upstairs and tell Mark that everything's
okay? I'll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes," John said as
he picked up his wallet and car keys from the desk. It was time for
an enema.
Chapter 7. Love.
After twenty minutes John stood up and looked down at his
sleeping son. For a moment he thought about carrying the boy into
his own bedroom but he didn't. He looked at the boy lovingly. Mark
was all that he cared about. He felt very sad. The boy was growing
up so fast. Even though his physical development was lagging it was
increasingly obvious that the fact that Mark's sex organs were
nowhere near maturity was irrelevant. That Mark would soon explore
his body's capacity for pleasure was very much in his mind. John
knew with absolute certainty that Mark's next experience would very
likely occur with a man. His own experiences at thirteen had been
pleasurable.
John remembered Skip vividly. He had loved Skip and his only
regret was that he wished that Skip had loved him as much. Realizing
that he was neither more nor less that one boy among many had been
exceedingly painful. That terrible realization had occurred
shortly after his fifteenth birthday, not long after he had his
first release of seminal fluid. He had been so proud then. Each
orgasm was now a matter of demonstrating his newly discovered
capacity to Skip by ejaculating his milky fluid as Skip pumped
rapidly into his eager young body. He was almost perpetually
aroused. He had gone to Skip's apartment as he usually did on a
Thursday but by Friday he wanted a 'repeat performance'. By then
Skip had provided him with his own key and he let himself in. Skip
had another boy on the couch. The boy was in exactly the same
position that he used with Skip, bending over the couch with his
buttocks presented to the man behind him. Skip was thrusting his
thick cock vigorously into the young boy's body, grunting with each
forward motion and groaning as he pulled back. The 'new' boy was
one of the youngest members of the troop. He was an attractive
blond-headed boy who already well on his way through puberty. The
boy gasped loudly with each lunge into his pale smooth body. Like
John, he was an eager participant and from the way he was 'taking'
the man's penis, it was obvious that he was a 'regular' in the
apartment. John remembered how he had backed out of the living room
and, as Skip looked up, he bolted through the door and into the
corridor. He ran home, confused and full of hatred for the man that
had given succor to his body for more than eighteen months. Two
weeks and one day later he had gone back to Skip.
That memory was one of John's saddest. Skip had taken him
into his bedroom and he had fucked the boy mercilessly for most of
the afternoon. John had been unable to resist and he had submitted
again and again until he was to weak to stand. Exhausted, John had
fallen asleep. When he awoke Skip told him that "he wasn't the only
boy with a horny ass". The man was cynical and without remorse. The
boy had broken down and told Skip that he loved him and the man
shrugged. Skip shrugged off the boy's affection and then told him
in no uncertain terms what he was interested in.
As he looked down at his son John wanted only for Mark to be
happy and healthy, and when he was horny, for him to be loved. The
more he thought about the other boy lying in the bedroom next door
the more he worried about Mark. John was saddened and depressed.
His son, and Adrian too for that matter, deserved to be loved. John
shook his head in sad resignation. There had to be a better way for
the boy to grow up gay than by engaging in explorations with men
that did not love him. There had to be a way that the boy could
find love first. He wanted to confirm the existence of that love
before his son was hurt. He wanted to know that the boy's heart was
never broken, that his dreams were never shattered. He had been
devastated as he realized that Skip had never loved him, and never
would. By then it was too late. He was addicted.
He turned and quietly walked out of the bedroom and through
the quiet house. He checked Mark's bedroom to make sure that Adrian
was sleeping and then went downstairs and into his study. He had
secretly hoped for the last several years that Mark's initiation
would fall on his shoulders. He would have been able to give the
boy all the love and affection that he needed. That dream seemed
further away than ever now. He closed the door to the study and
went over to the computer. He remained standing while he switched
it on and watched the machine 'boot-up'. The memory of his slender
dark-haired son lying on the bed upstairs stayed with him. He could
picture the slender brown legs, the lean torso covered by the
brightly colored pajama shirt, the small firm bottom. He had
harbored the desire of penetrating that beautiful young body for a
long time only to find out that it was only a dream. Nothing more,
nothing less.
He unfastened the belt and clasp of his shorts and opened his
zipper. His penis was limp but it wouldn't be for long. He pushed
his shorts and underpants down to his knees and sat down before the
computer. He logged on, switched to his medical-center account, and
changed to his 'special' hidden directory. He began to masturbate
as he read the names of the files and then decided to read his
favorite story one more time. He breathed out in a long sigh as he
started to read, wishing that the boy-hero, Dylan was Mark. His
son, like the boy in the story would find love and happiness.
There was no frantic desire to ejaculate and John rubbed his
penis rhythmically. He had been circumcised as was the fashion in
1954 but other than that Mark's genitals were a carbon copy of his
father's, only smaller. Fully erect, John's penis was less than six
inches long and it had a narrow girth just like the eleven-year-
old boy upstairs. He read the story closely, savoring each detail
as he fantasized about Mark as the boy in the story.
The idea formed very slowly in his mind. A large part of the
opening chapters were strangely familiar, and then he recognized
detail after detail. The similarities between where he lived and
the descriptions of the swimming pool and environs where the story
occurred were too strong to be the result of random chance. The
more he thought about it, the stronger the connections became. John
looked at the screen in a daze. He didn't believe it. It could not
be true. He wondered whether the story was true. He re-read the
introduction. The author claimed that only part of the story was
fiction. Where did it change? Had the author really experienced the
feelings he talk about?
With trembling hands he began to compose a message to the
author. The words evaded him. He wanted to express his feelings,
his interest, his fears, everything that he had been thinking out.
John typed one word: "Hamilton?" as the subject of the mail and
then dispatched it to the anonymous address.
A few minutes later his mail icon beeped and he clicked on it.
For a moment he was surprised. He had not expected a reply so
quickly. The email was not what he wanted. It was a confirmation
from the anonymous server, simply a help file and the name of the
anonymous account that had been assigned to him.
"Damn," he swore aloud. He went back to reading the story. He
read quickly, skimming the story for the parts that interested him
most. Minutes passed. He masturbated slowly, backing away when he
neared the precipice, then resuming as the feelings of imminent
orgasm had faded. Minutes turned into an hour then just as he was
about to finish the story he stopped backing away from the
inevitable and began to rub his aching hard penis faster and
faster. The man and the two boys had played 'strip poker', and the
boy-hero was in bed and resting after a particularly 'nice' fuck
as the mail icon beeped again.
He clicked on the icon again. The two-line message was to the
point:
NOT WRONG!
Alex.
John felt his heart rate surge and he breathed deeply. He
thought for a few minutes and then began to type a reply. There was
so much that he wanted to say.
Hi Alex,
I really enjoyed reading your story, Summer Dreams. I
do not know how much of the story is true but it is all
believable. I identify very strongly with Alex Weston
and I have a lot sympathy. For some time now I have had
similar feelings for my own son. He is 11 and I think
of him as somewhere between the two boys in your story.
Mark knows a lot about sex but he is not as 'aggressive' as
Dylan or Kelly. Like the man in your story, my son and I
share an intimacy that is particularly strong, but I too
am unable to take the final step that will bring us
together. Although I do not know with certainty that
my son is gay, we have talked about what it means. For
several years now I have strongly suspected that he is
inclined that way and tonight he admitted that he was
very attracted to his own sex. While nothing untoward
happened I thought of my son in a sexual way constantly.
It is very confusing.
When I was 13 I had a long relationship with a man and
I think I am the better for it. At the time I was often
disappointed and ashamed but over the years I came to
realize that he helped me through a very difficult time
in my life. I guess I would like to help my own son come
to understand himself. I just don't know how to go about it.
I hope we can continue to talk.
John.
John pressed the send mail button and sat back. His penis had
subsided and casually he began to run his fingers along it. It
started to stiffen and he massaged his testicles as it thickened
and hardened quickly. Confused, was an understatement. While he was
talking with Mark he had all but convinced himself that he could
never have an incestuous relationship with the slender perfect boy
that reclined on the bed. Now, he was not so sure. His penis was
fully erect and he began to masturbate, rubbing the full five-and-
a-half inches as he thought back to the conversation he'd had with
Mark only a little more than an hour earlier. Mark had wanted to
do the things Adrian had done with his uncle, he had wanted to
experience the feelings for himself. John sighed. He could remember
his son's smooth lithe legs as they disappeared under his pajama
shirt. A picture of himself flashed into his mind and merged with
Mark. He remembered lying on top of the exercise mats, night after
night as Skip pushed into him. Every time he had wanted to resist
but as soon as Skip had given him the knowing look, the raised
eyebrows, the faint, teasing smile, he had surrendered. It would
have been different, very different if Skip had wanted more than
that alone. Almost every night from the time he started with Skip
until he was fifteen and finally realized that it was pointless,
he had dreamed about running away to live with Skip. Skip would be
his father and they would live together 'happily ever after'.
"Dad?" a small sleepy voice whispered.
John twisted around and saw Mark standing in the doorway. He
shuddered, instinctively trying to pull up his zipper and cover his
now aroused penis. The boy was still dressed only in his pajama
shirt and his small hand was at his groin, squeezing on his thin
rigid penis.
"Were you jerking off?" the boy asked curiously. His voice was
high-pitched and it seemed to tremble with excitement. John nodded
awkwardly, blushing quickly and deeply as he looked away. He tried
to find the words he wanted to say to Mark but he was dumbfounded.
He slowly looked back at the boy framed in the doorway. Mark's hand
was still stroking the short thin shaft of his penis. His hand moved
relentlessly, shamelessly pulling the foreskin back and forth over
the little swollen glans. His legs were apart and the boy smiled
mystically as he looked at his father with fascination.
"Dad?" he whispered. The man nodded and swallowed. "You said
it was okay?" he asked uncertainly. Mark stepped forward and came
into the study. His eyes were focused on his father's penis. He had
seen his father's penis often enough but never erect before. His
heart jumped and began to pound wildly the closer he came to his
father. John breathed deeply. He entire mind was filled with a
long-past memory of himself and Skip. "Dad?" Mark repeated
nervously as he came up to his father's chair. The head of his
father's penis glistened. The glans was fat and swollen, bloated
as it flared out before it joined to the blood-engorged shaft. It
was a deep almost-purple color. Like the boy, his father's rigid
penis wasn't very large but it was the largest that Mark had ever
seen. It overwhelmed his own small erection. The urge to touch it
rose up in the boy and he shivered involuntarily. He tried to look
away from it, to meet his father's eyes, but he could not. After
even a brief glance away, his eyes were drawn back.
The boy's penis flexed, stiffening even further with the
intense flow of adrenaline that now coursed through his veins. He
trembled. The boy's excitement knew no bounds. He swallowed
nervously. His teeth chattered despite his clenched jaws. He was
frightened, awed, overcome, entranced. He reached forward.
John flinched as his son's fingers brushed lightly against his
penis. "Don't Mark," he breathed out.
Mark pulled his hand away as if he had been bitten. John's
lips were suddenly very dry and he licked then. His breathing was
erratic and he gasped, trying to find the air he needed. He shook
his head trying to deny the need inside him. He had conquered his
desire every time since he had been seventeen years old and he had
first touched the small hard penis of a twelve-year-old boy.
Travis! The boy's name had been Travis. He was a new scout and Skip
had placed the young boy, his own nephew, in John's care. That
Wednesday night he had kept Travis and John back and taken them
into the storeroom. The twelve-year-old boy was aggressive in a way
that John had never been, undressing completely after only a nod
from his uncle. Travis openly masturbated in front of the man then
began to tease John. That night John and Travis copulated on the
exercise mats as Skip watched. It was John's last night in the scout
troop, the following week he left to attend college in New England.
John's hand moved slowly towards his son's small penis. As it
neared Mark took his hand away and the rigid shaft seemed to quiver
with anticipation. "Dad,... you're okay, aren't you?" the boy
whispered. John nodded, breathing heavily as his hand touched, then
enclosed the little penis that was being offered to him. Mark
flinched and for an instant tried to pull away. His father's
fingers held his penis lightly, the tips stroking the sensitive
skin where the tiny fat scrotum joined to the boy's legs.
John looked up into his son's eyes hoping that he would find
the same desire that burned inside him. Mark smiled shyly and
nodded his assent and John's hand gently pulled him forward and
around so that Mark stood before him. "You sure, Mark?" he asked
cautiously. Mark nodded again and straddled his father's legs. He
sat down, his firm buttocks against his father's knees and the man
began to caress his genitals slowly. The boy sighed and his eyes
closed as feelings, long suppressed and previously frightening,
surged into his mind and demanded control. he surrendered
willingly, relaxing as the sensations in his penis took over. After
less than a minute Mark was twitching and flexing his penis
hungrily, demanding more, faster, harder. Uncertainly he reached
out and awkwardly enclosed his father's penis. No words passed
between father and son as they masturbated each other.
John erupted. His semen spurted out over his son's hand,
splashed onto the boy's slender thighs and over his genitals and
then dribbled slowly down the throbbing hot length of the man's
penis. Mark sat up quickly, smearing the thick white cream on his
hand away as he wiped it against his bare thigh. Father and son
gazed at each other, each remembering a little boy standing in a
public toilet, his pale body stained with a man's semen. John
sighed in relief and reached down to his pants for a handkerchief
to wipe up the slippery mess that covered both of them.
As he straightened up, Mark came to his feet. He smiled nervously
at his father. "Dad," he whispered, "Are we going to do what Adrian
did with his uncle?" he asked.
John looked at the computer screen before him. His mail had
been answered. Silently he clicked on the new message and read:
Hi John,
If you both want to? Enjoy it while he's still young!
Alex.
Slowly John stood up and pulled his son to him. "Yes Marco. If
that's what you want?" The boy nodded.
********************************************************************
THE END.
This story has been stopped at this point though it is a long way
from being finished. This course of action has been undertaken
following advice from a net-friend and fellow author that I respect.
He observes that it is repetitive of my previous stories, predictable,
and of little interest. In his critique, the story represents
'acceptable pederastic writing'. I hope that this is the case because
it has been my goal all along to present pederasty in a more favorable
light that it usually is given.
This will be the my last story for some time to come. I look forward
to reading the contributions of others who take my place.
to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories
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