Date: Mon, 17 Mar 2014 15:24:02 +0000
From: Grumpy
Subject: Bus-stop Boy part#1

Bus-Stop Boy

I had been feeling more than usually sexual as I wandered around the
various shops I had to visit that day in town. Something in the air, perhaps, or
maybe it was the fact that there seemed to be beautiful schoolboys - alone, and
in small groups - wherever I went that sunny afternoon. So, as I reached the
bus-stop I needed to get back to my flat, I was feeling a little restless, and not
looking forward to returning to my empty and solitary home.

As I rounded the street corner and caught sight of the stop, I saw that
there was a single figure already seated in the shelter I was aiming for. I could
see a dark school uniform, and a head of dark brown hair. From the distance of
about 50 metres I could tell, somehow, that this boy was special; something
about the way his sturdy frame was seated, with broad shoulders and a body
that solidly filled out the charcoal suit he was wearing. As I drew closer, I could
see that he was probably 14 or 15, and of below average height, but with a
build that was sturdy and firm. Gradually, his facial features became clear - he
was distracted by his smartphone, on which it looked like he was playing a
game of some kind; intensely watching the screen and moving his index finger
rapidly around on the device - and I saw he possessed an immense, delicate
beauty: a broad mouth with full lips, slightly pressed together in concentration;
a heart-meltingly sweet little nose, that curved up slightly towards the tip; big,
brown, expressive eyes, sheltering underneath defined eyebrows that were
drawn together, raised at the centre. His face was oval in shape, with
cheekbones that were high, and there were dimples in his cheeks, either side of
his mouth. His skin was flawless, and hinted at some Mediterranean heritage.
His hair was dark brown, curling slightly, and long enough to cover the upper
third of his ears and just to reach the collar of his shirt at the back. He had a
muscular neck, which curved outwards on its way down to where it disappeared
beneath his white shirt, outwards to his square, wide shoulders. He was sitting
upright, and it was clear he had a strong chest, filling his shirt out beautifully.
The soft, black cloth of his trousers was drawn taut over his quite short, but
curving and muscular thighs. He sat with his legs slightly apart and his knees
bent so that his ankles were crossed underneath the seat. There, between his
legs, the cloth was drawn into folds over a groin that was obviously pretty
substantial. Altogether, the vision he presented was a vision of beauty that
caused me to feel a lump in my chest and throat, and my head to spin. I was
transfixed, and - as I passed him to my left, to take up a place with him sitting
on my right - I was careful to place myself closer to him than most people
would naturally choose, but with enough space between us to give him the
option of shifting himself closer to me in a clearly visible way, should it -
unlikely as it clearly was - occur to him to do so.

I should mention that I am a man in his mid-forties, tall (6' 3") and of
mixed British and Italian heritage, which makes me olive-skinned and with
brown hair (with hardly any grey) and eyes. I suppose I am what you would call
a 'bear', with a short beard and, whilst not exactly fat, I do have a bit of a tum.
Younger men, and boys, have always been attractive to me. I don't seek empty
sexual encounters, though; to me, physical and emotional attraction are very
closely connected, and the idea of 'using' anybody - especially anybody
vulnerable - simply to meet some physical need of my own is a repellant one.
So, I sat down, put my plastic bags of shopping down on the bench to my left,
and adopted a relaxed pose, looking about me with what I hoped was a kindly
and open look on my face.

'Shit!' said the boy, as his phone produced a slightly mocking little sound that
suggested his game had suddenly come to an end.
'Are you dead?' I asked, moving my body very slightly in his direction, and
glancing from the screen of his phone briefly up and into that stunning face.  He
glanced in my direction, and we made eye-contact; he smiled broadly, and his
eyes twinkled with good humour.
'I'm a bit shit at these action games,' he said, in a clear, pure and gentle voice.
'They pass the time, though,' I replied, 'when you're by yourself, and have ages
to wait for this rotten bus.'

He nodded, and then decisively exited the game he had been playing,
quickly checked what I imagined were a couple of messaging apps, then flipped
the cover down on his phone and put it away into his right, inside jacket pocket.
As he opened his blazer, I caught sight of his shapely pectorals and thought I
detected the shadow of his nipple through the taut, white shirt, and then I got a
whiff of his musky deodorant as it fell back into place. Ordinarily, I would have
thought the smell overpowering and not especially pleasing, but - on him - it
smelled wonderful, and it caused the lump to return to my throat, and a
yearning to get closer and inhale even more of the aroma.

'Have you been doing something sporty?' I asked him.
'Yes! I've just had a shower. How did you know that?'
'That's quite a powerful anti-perspirant!' I replied. That smile again, broader
and warmer this time, and we locked eyes for quite a long time ... longer,
perhaps, in a deliberate way, I wondered?
'Foul, isn't it?' he laughed, 'I borrowed it from a mate.'
'Well, on anybody else it would be,' I responded, daringly, 'but you seem to
carry it off alright.'

He smiled again, and there was a pause. Then, absently, he shifted
slightly in his place, turning his body towards me, and - as he did so - he
reached between his legs, and pulled the cloth of his trousers forward from his
groin, adjusting the contents of his underwear into a more comfortable position.
I could not help but allow my gaze to linger between those stupendous thighs,
on that alluring bulge that ... was it my imagination? ... appeared to be more
substantial than before, with the line of what might have been a cock newly
visible to the left hand side.

'Is this your regular route home?' I asked him, anxious to keep the conversation
going. 'I didn't know there are any colleges [I carefully avoided saying 'schools']
around here?'
'I finished early today, so I came to use the gym at the YMCA,' he indicated the
high-rise block over the road, 'with my mate Paul. We do that most Tuesdays
and Thursdays ... we both have study periods in the afternoon, but ... well ...'

He trailed off, smiled and winked at me. I smiled back, delighted at being
complicit in his mild transgression.

'This mate of yours; Paul, ' I began, 'he's a close friend of yours?' The look on
the boy's face made it clear he knew the kind of thing I was asking.
'Ummm, nothing like that!' he laughed 'But, well, I probably wouldn't say no if
he was up for it ... but ... well ...'. He tailed off, looked at me, blushed a little,
and then looked down at the ground. I smiled at him, encouraging him to
continue. He looked up, straight into my face: 'I'm not really into guys my age.
They're so ... stupid. You can't have a proper talk with them about anything.
They're just ... immature. Older guys are cool,' (That smile again!) 'and it's not
just all about sex.'

My mind was in turmoil. This beautiful, warm-hearted boy ... young man
... was telling me that he was gay, and that he was attracted to men
considerably older than himself.  I was three times his age! I shouldn't have
been even thinking the things that were going through my mind. Perhaps I
should try to change the subject; I looked up at the arrivals indicator.

'Which one are you waiting for?' I asked. He gave me a look that was difficult to
interpret, with a wry smile.
'The 641 takes me to Hawley. What about you?'
'Well, I'm on the way there, so that or the 520 will do me.'
'I'm not really in any hurry to get home,' he said decisively.
'You come and go pretty much as you want, then?'
'Yeah, it's just mum and my sister at home, and mum works really bizarre
hours. The house is always full of my sister's friends after school ... 16 year old
girls, nightmare!' he laughed.
'Oh, God, are they always trying to do your hair for you?'
'It's when they get the make-up out I make a run for it.' We both chuckled,
companionably. I made a decision.
'Well, you're very welcome to come and hang out at my place for a bit ... I can't
promise much in the way of video games, but I've got some DVDs, or we can
have a chat ...' I tailed off, a little uncertainly, and suddenly experienced near-
panic, as I realised what I was suggesting.
'Don't you think we ought to know each others' names first?' he said, in mock
seriousness, 'I'm Ben'. He held out his right hand, which I took in mine, and our
eyes met as we gently squeezed.
'I'm David', I said, with a voice that was beginning to break up.

Neither of us seemed inclined to break the contact of our hands, and I
extended my left hand to cover his hand in my right; a move he immediately
followed. He was looking right into my eyes, with such a beautiful, searching
look on his face. Finally, we disconnected.

'Well, then', I said, clearing my throat, 'that's great. We can catch the 503 that
is due in ... just a couple of minutes!'

I let Ben go ahead of me onto the bus, and he made straight for the very
back. As I followed, I could not but admire the young man ahead of me; his
shoulders, the back of his neck, and the glimpse I had of his backside as he
pocketed his wallet. He tucked himself over in the corner, with a window to his
right, and looked at me as I arrived, patting the seat immediately next to him,
where I happily plonked myself down. Our shoulders were touching, and he
immediately shifted his left leg so that his knee made contact with my thigh.
Without thinking, I cupped my right hand over his knee, drawing it into firmer
contact and gently caressing the base of his thigh a couple of times with my
thumb. Losing my nerve somewhat, I removed my hand, formed a fist, and
gave a couple of gentle taps on his leg before withdrawing it. But he turned,
looked at me full in the face, and pushed his leg definitively into contact with
mine, with a huge smile on his face, and we settled in as the bus moved off.

The bus pulled away with a roar, leaving us outside the little row of shops
that stand just fifty metres from my flat.

I turned to Ben, who was standing silently by my side, and asked, 'I've
not got much in the way of snacks in the flat; shall we get something here?'
'Have you got any weed?' he replied, with a coy look on his face that made me
want to scoop him up in my arms there and then.
'How do I know you're not a policeman?' I replied, wary of letting Ben know
about my medicinal stash in the Russian doll in the kitchen.
'Well, it's a risk for sure,' he smiled, 'but if you have got some, then we are
definitely going to need some chocolate.'
I nodded, gently at first, then more vigorously, as I acknowledged the - very,
very inviting - inevitability, leading Ben to the grocer, and calling 'Milk, or plain?'
over my shoulder to him as he followed.
'I want nuts!' he said, firmly.

There we were, each sitting in one of the big, leather armchairs in my
living room, with Ben's choice of music playing softly: not being much of an
expert in the types of music in my collection (which is almost entirely 'classical')
he had, with much giggling, decided to go for the composer with the 'coolest'
name he could see. As he had decided that Shostakovich was the coolest name,
I had opted for the Jazz Suites as reasonably safe background music for us, and
Ben thoroughly approved. He had looked disapprovingly at me when I had
retrieved the jumbo cigarette papers from the kitchen drawer, and so I was
busy preparing the bong that had been hiding at the back of a cupboard for
some time.

'I think we're ready to go ...' I announced, proffering the device to him.
He held up his hand; 'You first, Davey boy!', which he said in such a warm and
affectionate tone, it sent a thrill through me. I composed myself, then applied a
lighter to the weed, and inhaled the cool smoke that rose up the tube,
accompanied by the soft bubbling of the water. Holding my dose of cannabis-
laden smoke inside my chest, I passed the bong to Ben, and he followed suit.
We passed the bong back and forth two or three times, before Ben placed it on
the coffee table, and we both sat back in our chairs, smiling at each other as
the sense of peace and euphoria swept over us. Ben closed his eyes, hunkered
down in his chair and spread his legs out, emitting a long and contented,
'Mmmmmm!' I looked fixedly at Ben.

'You really do have the most beautiful face,' I began - Ben kept his eyes closed,
but smiled in acknowledgement and raised his eyebrows - 'it's just, well, so ...
perfect'.
'You're pretty good looking yourself, David,' he replied, opening his eyes and
meeting my gaze, 'except, I don't think you really know it.' That line, which
would be such a clichι from anyone else, seemed heartfelt. I basked in the
presence of this lovely boy, and the effects of the weed, in silence for a
moment.
'Let me know if you feel hungry,' I said, waving vaguely at the bars of chocolate
still wrapped on the table before us.
'To be honest, what I'd really like now is to lie down,' he looked at me, coyly,
once again, 'Could we take this into your bedroom?' he asked, indicating the
bong.
'Of course,' I replied, my anxieties long gone, 'It's through here.'

I stood up, a little unsteadily, then watched Ben rise from his low seat. He
seemed to have some trouble standing fully upright, so I stepped over and
placed a supportive arm around his back, with my hand in his right armpit.
'Nice, strong arm,' he said, slightly dreamily, and we moved in unison towards
the door, and I picked up the bong in my free hand as we went. In the narrow
hallway to the bedroom, I had to let go of him, but he followed behind me with
a hand on each of my shoulders. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck,
and hear him making little, soft sounds as we moved along, which caused me to
feel that rushing in my chest, and a lump in my throat again.

I was relieved that I had actually made my bed before going out that
afternoon, as I placed the bong on the small table by the side of the bed, and
watched, standing, as Ben sat himself down on the edge, then heaved his legs
up and around until he was lying on his back, with his head on the pillows. I sat
myself beside his legs, and –  announcing, 'Shoes off!' – I undid the laces on
each of his shoes, took them off, and place them on the floor. He wiggled his
toes, and giggled, then looked at me expectantly.

'You, too! Shoes off!' he said, and I obeyed, then told him to budge up a bit as I
lay down on the bed, to his right, lying on my side, supporting my head in one
hand. He still had on his tie, which I loosened for him, and undid the top button
on his shirt. He opened one eye as I did this, then reached up to undo the
second button, before closing it again, and smiling. I reached around for the
bong, and took another toke on it. He opened his mouth, indicating that he
would like some more but, since he made no effort to take it from my hands, I
held the tube to his mouth, and applied the lighter for him, as he inhaled
deeply. Back and forth went the bong a couple of times, before I returned it to
the bedside table. There we were, side by side, in a fug of relaxation and
closeness. I reached out my hand, and laid it flat on his sturdy chest,
luxuriating in the warmth I felt rising from him. I began to move my hand
around gently over his chest, caressing with my fingers as I went.

'Oh, that feels soooo nice,' he cooed, opening his eyes briefly to meet mine. My
caresses became more definite, and my hand ranged all over his chest, finding
his left nipple, which I gently rolled through his shirt between finger and thumb.
He was letting out gentle sighs and moans as I did this, my eyes drinking in the
whole length of this wonderful new friend lying here on my bed. His legs, so
beautifully filling his dark trousers. There, at his groin, I could see the
development of his arousal, as the shape I thought I could make out earlier was
now clearly his inflating cock, lying over to the left of his fly. My hand made its
way down to his abdomen - his beautifully firm and defined abdomen - and
roved over it, continuing its caresses. Suddenly, he let out a moan, and his hips
rose up from the bed, pushing him firmly against my hand, which, by now, had
found his belly-button, which my finger and thumb were delicately circling. A
surge of desire went through me as his hips rose, and I saw his cock stretching
out the line of his trousers, looking amazingly thick and long as it continued to
become turgid. I dragged my eyes from this beautiful sight, up to his face, and
saw that he had raised his head from the pillow, and was watching me intently.
He lifted his right hand from his side, and placed it over mine, which was still
resting on his stomach. He turned his head towards me, and I saw his broad,
pink lips part, moist in the centre, and his tongue dart forwards and quickly run
from left to right, moistening their entirety. I moved my head slightly closer, a
movement he mirrored, until our lips were barely a few centimetres apart, and I
could feel his hot breath all around my mouth. Closer and closer we came, until
first our upper lips gently met, and then we adjusted so that our mouths were
joined, with barely any pressure. I could only manage a few seconds of this
before I started to push little kisses onto those divinely soft and warm cushions,
which he began to return. Deeper and deeper went our coming together, until
the writhing of our lips was being lubricated with our saliva. Slowly, gently, I
began to push my tongue forward to touch between his lips with each kiss, and
he suddenly opened his mouth, and sucked it in enthusiastically. Then, a new
level of intimacy was awakened, as our tongues rolled over each other, along
with our lips; tasting, probing; giving, receiving. His right hand had moved from
mine on his stomach, and was now caressing my neck; his left was holding the
side of my head. My left hand was reciprocating, on the back of his neck, and I
suddenly moved my right downwards, and firmly rubbed, and then gripped, his
throbbing cock through his trousers. He moaned, long and hard, directly into
my mouth as my hand kneaded and explored what was already a rock hard,
erect cock. The desire I felt was so intense, I was giving myself over to it
without thinking. I found the button of his trousers, and unfastened it in a
moment. In response, his hips rose up again off the bed, pushing his throbbing
member into my hand. I tugged at the material covering him, and his fly zip
unfastened itself under my wrist. Burying my hand beneath, I felt a pair of
boxers, and immediately slid my hand under the waistband, then down inside
until ... I was in direct contact with his hot, pulsating and wonderfully thick cock.
I gripped it firmly in my fist, and it began to throb and kick as I held it. It was
huge. All this time our deep kissing had continued, and he was moaning
repeatedly into my mouth as I explored his cock, then down to his fuzzy sack
and his big, solid balls.

Breaking the kiss, with some difficulty, but not releasing my hold on the
contents of his boxers, I used my left hand to undo the buttons on his shirt,
from the top downwards, until his hairless, solid chest was uncovered. I looked
back up at him, our eyes met, and I could not help myself; I had to connect
with those lips again, and taste his desire. Reluctantly releasing his cock, I
moved my hand behind his left shoulder, and drew him over towards me, as our
searching mouths reconnected passionately. I lay back on the bed, and he rolled
over, coming to lie on top of me, gripping my left leg between his thighs. His
hot, hard cock pressed into my groin, next to my own stiff member. The way
our tongues jousted with each other, and our lips roved around hungrily,
seemed entirely mutual; we were physically in tune with each other, as we
explored. The taste of him was sweet, and I could not get enough of it. As he
came to lie squarely on top of me, my hands were now free to explore his back,
beneath his shirt, which was now hanging loosely. I gripped the back of his
neck, and ran my fingers downwards along his spine, massaging gently as I
went, and so eliciting more gentle moans and sighs from him. As my hands
reached his lower back, he pulled his chest from mine, and loosened the
buttons on my shirt, pulling it away from me, and now I could feel his warm
skin directly against mine; this was such an amazing feeling, and I began to
make my own moans, directly into his mouth, in response to his.

His body shifted again, so that his legs were now both between mine.
With both hands, I delved down beneath his shorts, running each over his
beautifully firm and rounded buttocks. Impatiently, I swept his shorts and
trousers downwards, so that he was free of them down to his mid-thighs. How I
revelled in the feel of his smoothness, his taut youth, for just a moment; he
was then undoing my own trouser buttons, tugging at my zip fly, in a brief
moment of awkwardness, which I was anxious to overcome.

'Shall we lose the clothes now, baby?' I asked him gently, and we both hurriedly
divested ourselves of everything, chucking everything into a heap by the bed,
before I could once more welcome this stunning young man back into my arms.
Now, our nakedness was complete, and the feel of the whole length of him
against me moved me up to a new level of sensuality and fervour. After a few
moments, he began to move his cock rhythmically against me, catching my own
between us. I could feel fluid gently leaking from his tip, which lubricated our
grinding against each other. Our kiss gradually came to an end – for now – and
Ben pushed himself up, with an arm either side of my head, so that his
awesome face came into view barely inches away from me. His smile was heart-
melting, and I looked into his eyes: at first, I had thought that he had mid-
brown eyes, but – now that I could see them so close up – I could see that the
main colour was the deepest brown, but that there was regular flecks of
turquoise in his irises, which was extraordinarily beautiful.

'Do we,' he began, 'do we ... I mean, should we talk about ... you know ... what
else we're going to do? That sort of stuff?' He was blushing, and his uncertainty
made him only more perfect, to me.
'Oh, sweetest boy, why don't we have another little smokey?' I replied, 'We can
talk about that, of course. What we're going to do is only what you feel
comfortable doing, that you want to do, so don't worry.'

He smiled again, and – as I reached out to the bedside table – began to
shift himself off me, coming to lie on his right side, but still pressed right
against me. He wrapped both his legs around my left, and watched as I tamped
down the ash, then we both shifted in unison slightly up the bed, as I held the
bong to his lips and applied the lighter. Again, it went back and forth between
us a few times, before we lay back. His cock was still rock hard, I could feel it
against my side, and I gripped it in my hand, caressing him gently as we spoke
softly to each other; I answered the many questions he had, as best I could,
and he told me about what he knew for sure, and the things he wondered, but
was less certain about. All of this happened naturally, with no sense of
heaviness or concern, but with much laughter, and a good deal of kissing in
between. His questions were all natural, and understandable. The main priority
for me was to make Ben understand that there were no specific acts or routines
that I expected him to go through, that what is most important for me in
physical intimacy is that everything that happens is something both of us want,
and feel comfortable with. Yes, the fact that I usually have no interest in being
penetrated anally myself was an important thing to say, but also that I don't
really write anything off as being something that might 'work' with a particular
person. Yes, again, the fact that penetrating others in this way is something
that comes naturally to me was an important piece of information to put across.
It emerged that Ben himself had fantasised about being penetrated, and had
explored his body in that direction. All of his uncertainties were uncertainties
that seemed easy to comprehend, and I wanted to make him understand that –
to me – lovemaking is more about the unique joy of being physically as close to
another person as possible, and enjoying the ability to give them pleasure, than
'getting my end away'. In any case, we were barely becoming acquainted with
each other, and I would rather have 'done' nothing with him and retain our
growing friendship than have this one experience and never see him again.

'Lie back, Ben,' I said, as gently as possible, and he lay himself down on his
back. I was on my side, ran my hand over his chest, down to his stomach, and
then down to his groin, gripping his superb cock in my clenched hand, thumb
wrapped around the base, leaning over to re-engage him in a kiss. He wrapped
both his arms around my upper body, drawing me in, and then his hands each
took their own course over my back, up and down my spine. Our kissing
intensified, then became more gentle; went as deep as possible, then eased off.
I felt fully caught up in every nuance of it, and that I could happily remain
locked to him in this way for hours. There seemed to be no pressure, no clear
desire in either of us, to bring it to an end; repeatedly, the question seemed to
hang in the air, whether this waning might be the final one, but it never seemed
to be. Time was suspended. Now my left hand was locked in its own embrace
with his right, and the mutual exploration of our mouths was reflected in our
interlaced fingers and thumbs. Disengaging once more, I gripped his hand, bent
his arm up into his body and lifted; I remained wordless, but made a sign with
my right hand to indicate my desire for him to roll over. He did so, and came to
lie on his stomach, with his head turned on the pillow towards me, with a
contented expression on his handsome face. His hips undulated gently on the
bed. Now, I moved over, coming to lie on top of him, sparing him some of my
weight by supporting myself on my elbows. His buttocks were warmly pressed
into my stomach, and his legs parted as mine slid into position between them. I
buried my face into the back of his neck, nuzzling with my nose and mouth. I
lay a gentle kiss between his shoulder-blades, kept my lips in contact with his
warm, soft skin, and then my tongue extended between my lips. I began a
slowly progressing journey of kissing and licking up one side of his neck, and
then back down; out along the line of one shoulder to the very tip, and then
back along the upper ridge of his scapula to the centre, repeating the journey
on the left. Then I began to descend his spine, kiss-licking a short distance
downwards, and running my tongue back up, almost to where I started; the
process was repeated down, down and down. The inward curve to the small of
his back bottomed out, and my mouth began the ascent towards his tail-bone,
there above those taut, smooth, rounded and flawless buns. They rose and,
after a pause, tightened and descended; Ben was rubbing himself into the
mattress and making quietly-voiced sighs as I journeyed downwards. I kissed,
gave little licks and the gentlest of nibbles around his right buttock. Oh, the
texture of his flesh was thrilling beyond belief! When he slightly raised his hips,
pushing his arse into firmer contact, a rush of desire exploded in me. I fought to
gain composure and control, breathing deeply and willing my racing heart to
slow.

Now my lips traced the line downwards towards his ring, and to stop just
before I reached that most intimate place and run my tongue back upwards
again was a true effort of will. Down I went again, kissing, licking, and – this
time – I could not stop, and plunged my tongue right into the most sensitive
centre.

'Aaaaah!': Ben's soft, incredulous moan tailed away into an ascending falsetto.
Now that I had arrived, I began to caress him with my tongue, all around the
soft skin surrounding his hole, then back there into the middle, each time a
little harder, each time a little deeper. Up he bucked, as I felt my way inwards,
opening that flower even more, and I felt my tongue slide into a gently gripped
tunnel; he was holding himself up off the bed, sobbing soft moans and sighs;
my slight penetration and withdrawal developed its own small rhythm, and I
reached inwards as far as I could with each thrust, using my hands to support
and pull him up into me. The taste of him was like nothing I knew; clean,
sweet, but with a pheromonal muskiness. Like our kiss, we were fully engaged
with every nuance of each other's body. Like our kiss, I felt I was exactly where
I should be, where I should have been; where I should remain.

Then I left that central place, and began to run my tongue up the line
from the back of his scrotum, across the erect perineum and back to his ring.
My right hand moved from his hip, and I reached up and around, between his
thighs, to find his aching, hard cock, pulling it down so that – with some
difficulty – it pointed into the bed, almost in line with his upper legs. I gripped
and gently moved the skin up and down his shaft, retracting his mobile foreskin
over the glistening head, which slowly oozed its clear fluid. My hand gave
pleasure to his cock as my tongue worked on his ring. Ben's body was almost
motionless for long periods of time, then his hips would work, simultaneously
reciprocating each action of mine. I continued to feast on his wonderful
backside, my face buried deep between his firm, rounded buns. Moistening my
index finger with the fluid leaking from his cock, I moved – kissing and licking
my way across his perineum – down and, gripping his shaft near the base with
my other hand, took his engorged head into my mouth, as his hardness
strained against my continuing to hold him with his tip pointing downwards. I
quickly took the whole length of him into my mouth, and felt his thick, long
shaft fill the back of my throat. His hip movements began in earnest, and his
member moved back and forth on my tongue, which I used to grip him, along
with my lips. My wet index finger found the place between his cheeks and, after
circling his wet hole a few times, began to inch inwards until I found that
smooth, inner place, which I caressed, gently at first, then more firmly. Ben let
out an uncontrolled wail of pleasure, and humped his hips even more
vigorously. I relished the wonderful intimacy of his rock-hard cock filling my
mouth and throat with its steady thrusting. I continued to massage his prostate,
and used my thumb to stimulate the erect hardness of his perineum. His
moaning was becoming more regular, and his intakes of breath were voiced and
rasping. His rhythm was reaching a climax, and I intensified my stimulation of
every possible source of pleasure for him. Then his moans shortened, I felt his
cock grow even thicker, and I shifted to bring his head up out of my throat, into
my mouth, gripping and tugging the base of him with thumb and two fingers,
until, with shouts of relief, one, two, three, four forceful jets of his seed shot up
to the roof of my mouth. I swallowed hungrily, but his young body produced
such a volume of this sweet, hot liquid that much of it escaped my mouth; I
barely noticed this at the time. He thrusted a few more times as his hardness
gave way, then I slowly drew back to release him – aware that his sensitivity
would now be extreme, and further stimulation uncomfortable – as I gently
withdrew my finger from his deliciously tight hole.

'Ben, Ben, beautiful Ben,' I murmured into his ear, when I had moved up the
bed and positioned myself half-lying across his heaving shoulders and tapering
back.

'Oh! Oh!' he quietly murmered, incredulously, 'That was ... I mean, I had no
idea ... oh, my goodness!'

I kissed his shoulder, the back of his neck, his ear and, as he – with some
effort – turned to face me, his lips. His head returned to the pillow, I covered
him with my body, and within moments we were both asleep.


The End of Chapter One

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This is my first foray into erotic fiction. Any contructive comments or
words of encouragement can be directed to me at grumpygutz1@gmail.com
... more chapters are sitting in my head, waiting to be written if this one
goes down well (as it were).
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