This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between a man and a minor boy. The story is not true; the sexual acts described herein derive solely from imagination. It is not intended to promote illegal acts with/to/by minors, nor does it condone child abuse of any sort. If you object to the subject matter, stop reading. If your reading of this material violates laws in your place of residence or where you are currently located, stop reading. Thank you.
This story is protected by the copyright conventions of the United States. (For the most part I see my stories as fantasy. If they do nothing else, they ask, "What if..." Those who wish to comment, may email me at will1599s@yahoo.com)
Fantasy Football Please note:
Part 1 of 2
by
Will S
(2006)
The players and team in this story are completely fictional and have no known counterparts in reality.
Sometimes fantasy is just that. Sometimes it can be something more. Take Jared Daniels. At eleven years old, he had more than enough fantasies to keep his imagination in overdrive. He was, after all, pure, 100% boy. His brown hair was at best unkempt. His brown eyes were like dark chocolate, and just as addictive. You could look into those deep, sparkling eyes and be sucked right in - whirlpools of warm chocolate. He had a scattering of freckles across his pert button nose. His lips were boyishly thin, but not too thin, and his teeth were picket-fence perfect except for the fact that he's recently lost one in the top left, but that only added to his boyness.
He was maybe four-feet-ten-inches and all of 96 pounds - which made him a little above average for his age, perhaps, though he was nowhere near entering his pubertal growth spurt. In some ways, he was a typical Norman Rockwell kid (or, better, a Maxwell Parrish), but regardless, he was a sight to behold. He didn't know that of course. Few boys do at an age where playing hard is the most important thing in life. There was something else, too - something beyond his incredible, boyishly beautiful looks. There was a quality about him - a tenderness, perhaps, a sweetness - which, when he wasn't out to win at all costs, made him almost vulnerable. If someone were to see him only in those moments, they might call him sensitive. Some of his aunts said he was a sweetie, and he'd heard more than one girl at school call him cute, but that only made him blush and want to get as far from the girl as possible.
Still, sometimes when he was in his room and thinking about someone saying that, saying he was cute, he'd gaze into the mirror, and wonder if it were true. Even if it was, he decided, he had no interest in the girls who said that about him. He had a vague sense that somehow he might have liked it more if a guy had said it, but even as he thought that, a shiver passed up his spine, and he tried to force it out of his head. Jared sometimes got a feeling he was different, and thoughts like that made him worry all the more. He didn't want to be different, not that way. He heard guys whisper about fags and heard what they were supposed to do - cocksucking, for example, and another shiver passed through him as he thought about that. It was supposed to be gross, but somehow it made his heart thump, too. It was what gays were supposed to do, and he didn't want anyone to think he might be one of those (even though he wondered if maybe he was.)
Still, he wondered, did the idea of having someone put his thing in your mouth excite the other kids like it did him? The truth was, Jared didn't think he was, you know, like that - not really - because he loved sports, all kinds of sports. And he was good at them, too. But he had to be careful, too, especially those rare times at tournaments when he and his team mates changed in a locker room because he found himself trying to sneak a peek at the other boys when they were naked, and he knew that would be a big problem if they caught him. (Another big problem - well not so "big" - was when he was looking, his thing would start to get hard, so he'd scurry to get his pants on before anyone could notice.)
What was really scary to him was that his parents had started to wonder about him, too. They'd even found a counselor who had a reputation for helping kids who seemed to be struggling with "who they were." Nobody knew about this. Jared wasn't particularly happy about having to go to a therapist, but he went, and once he got there, he found it wasn't all that bad. Actually he liked the guy. He was cool, but still, the eleven-year-old didn't want even his best friends to know about his counseling sessions - and what they talked about.
Anyway it was summer. Little League season had just ended and in a six or seven weeks, the Little League World Series would be on ESPN, so Jared and his buddies were still playing hard at baseball. But in late June something happened that changed all that.
There was a junior college in Jared's hometown. Jared was listening to the radio in the kitchen when he heard it: "The San Francisco Miners have found a new home - at least for their training camp, while contractors are playing catch up with stadium renovations. For the entire pre-season, the SuperBowl winners will be practicing at Bryce Junior College."
That got Jared listening. Bryce was only a ten minute bike ride from his home. He knew exactly where the team would be practicing. In fact, he and his buddies had even managed to run a few plays on the field - before a campus cop had chased them off - more than once. Now pro players would be playing on the very same field he'd played on. And not just any pro players, his favorite team. And Garrett Miller. Garrett Miller, the most awesome quarterback in pro football! Awesome!
And so it was he and six of his buddies found themselves sitting in the stands bright and early on July 23 as the team began their drills.
All the guys Jared's age were thrilled to be within a few yards of their football heroes. They were so big, so jacked. It was incredible. The first few days, everyone was glued to their seats. There were a hundred people or more watching. And of course there was the media. That was neat, too, seeing all the TV sports reporters. Jared once even bumped into the Channel 8 reporter as he was coming out of the men's room. The reporter even spoke to him. He was too stunned to say anything more than, "hi", in response. But the real thrill was the players. It was just so awesome. It was along about the middle of the second day when Jared noticed that Garrett Miller, his QB, actually seemed to be looking up in the stands at them! He gave just the briefest smile, and it seemed to Jared that he could have actually given them a nod, too, before getting back to the practice. In fact, in his imagination, Jared thought the star had been looking right at him! Geesh, Jared thought then, get real!
By the third day, Jared and his buds had figured out that if they ran to the part of the bleachers in front of the field house, they could almost touch the players as they left the field, and it wasn't long after that, that they started bringing paper and trading cards and pens in hopes that the players would sign their autographs. Some did, some didn't. For Jared, heaven would have been getting Garrett Miller's autograph, but he never was lucky enough. Garrett Miller was his idol and for millions other kids, too. While he slept, Jared even dreamed about Garrett, being with him, doing things with him.
And that was the troubling part, because a few times in Jared's dreams, they were in a locker room and...well...they were actually naked! Usually when that happened, Jared would wake up and be in a sweat - and worse - his thing would be really hard. Jared would reach down and squeeze it and that sort of made it feel better. It bothered him; it made him feel guilty, but sometimes when Jared watched Garrett on the field, he found himself wondering just what he looked like without clothes on - and yes, his thing would get hard again. He'd blush, shift around on the bleachers, tug at his shorts, and try to think about something else and feel even more guilty. Jared would snatch a peek at the quarterback and think if Garrett Miller ever knew what he was thinking, he'd hate the boy. Why was this happening? Jared wondered if the next time he saw his counselor, if he could tell him about that. But that was just too weird - to pervy - and Jared thought he'd keep this all to himself.
By the middle of the second week, most of Jared's friends had found more exciting stuff to do - video games, for example. There were only a few boys left. But Jared's fantasy had taken over. He watched Garrett Miller's every move. Then over the weekend, the last few of Jared's friends left for vacation with their families. Monday was the first day Jared went to the field all by himself - well except for about twenty reporters and a crowd of other fans. It was also the day when, at the end of the day, Jared was in his usual place as Garrett Miller walked into the field house. The quarterback looked straight up at him, smiled, and gave a little nod. Jared was shocked. He thought he must have been imagining it. He was stunned, but then the boy's reaction must have something, because Garrett smiled an even bigger smile.
Usually the boys, along with everyone else, would leave for home once the players went into the field house, in fact, most of the fans left, too. The players' cars were in a fenced off area, and there was really no chance to get any closer to them once they got in their cars, so as soon as the players went into the field house, everybody just left. But this day, Jared must have been in shock or something - the quarterback actually smiled at him - and so he just sat there in the bleachers staring out onto the field, the same field were his hero, Garrett Miller played and worked and sweated.
The thing was, Jared had a secret, a secret he could not tell anyone. Jared found himself fantasizing more and more about Garrett Miller. He studied his every move. He felt his body reacting as he watched the quarterback work. He loved seeing his muscles bulge when he threw, a sheen of sweat making them somehow even bigger. And while at first, the players just wore t-shirts and shorts, now they often wore their practice uniforms, and Jared found himself staring at Garrett's crotch. There was quite a swelling there, and it was like a magnet to the boy. At times he actually had to force himself to look away, to focus on the man's face. But that was almost as bad, because Garrett was just about as handsome as anyone Jared had ever seen. Sure, maybe some girls said Jared was cute, but Garrett was to die for - at least he was in Jared's eyes.
Sometimes, as Jared watched his idol, something awful happened, something terrible, but something exciting at the same time. The eleven-year-old would get hard. The first time it happened, Jared turned beet red and suddenly sat up and leaned forward, with his hands locked in front of him and pressing on the bleacher seat between his legs. And then there were those troubling dreams, like when he and Garrett were showering together. And then while they were doing that, Jared would smile at Garrett and his idol would get a boner just like he did. It was weird and scary, but Jared found himself wondering more and more just what Garrett Miller would look like naked.
Back at the field, by now, Jared tried to push those thoughts from his brain. Everyone else was gone, even the equipment people. Jared looked around. Nobody. He eased down through the railing at the bottom of the bleachers and stepped onto the field. He'd watched his hero run patterns for hours now. Once in a while, the quarterback would drop back and effortlessly throw the long bomb sixty yards or more. Now Jared pretended he was Garrett, and he ran the same play with an imaginary ball. He set, tapped out the count with his foot, took the ball from the center, faded back and let the make-believe ball fly. Over the heads of the defenders it went, and when the reciever caught it, Jared threw up his arms in victory. He could hear the crowd roaring and clapping wildly. And then suddenly he froze. Now he was hearing applause - really. Someone was clapping - someone was really clapping! He turned toward the field house, and there on the sidelines was Garrett Miller, smiling a huge smile, and walking toward him - Jared Daniels.
Jared turned as red as the SF Miners' shirts. He thought about running away as fast as he could, except his legs wouldn't work. By now, the quarterback was five feet from him. "Nice pass," he said to the boy. "Won the game, didn't it?" Jared was so embarrassed, but he nodded and smiled shyly. Garrett Miller felt a flutter in his belly. He'd seen this boy for days, and now, finally, he had made contact with him.
"I..." Jared swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"What for?" Garrett said, "No harm done. I was doing the same thing when I was your age." All this time, the man was sizing up the boy. He was wiry, slim, but muscled. He had a great tan, and he was about as cute a boy as he'd ever seen. The man flushed with mild embarrassment. If he kept staring at this innocent little hotie, he'd be popping a woodie for sure.
"Um...I guess I should go," the boy said softly.
"Not on my account," Garrett said with a friendly smile. "Sometimes I just come out on the field when no one's around. Helps me get focused."
"See," Jared almost whined. "I'm in your way. I...I should leave..."
"No...it's okay...ah...you have a name?" Garrett grinned a sort of silly grin.
Jared broke into a great smile. "Jared. Jared Daniels."
"Well, Jared, I'm Garrett," the quarterback said, and stuck out his hand, waiting for that first incredible touch of the boy's small hand. When they shook, they both felt the electricity flowing back and forth between them. Jared swallowed. Garrett Miller had actually asked him his name. He'd actually said his name. And then Jared reddened, because with that first touch, he began to get hard, and he was mortified. But what he couldn't know was that Garrett was too.
"So...what grade are you in?"
"I'll be in sixth."
Garrett smiled. The boy was the perfect age. "Cool."
Jared grinned and again the man melted. The boy was simply stunning. His dimpled smile made the quarterback weak in the knees.
"Hey," Garrett said abruptly. "I'm a little thirsty. Anyplace around here to get a soda?"
"There's Granger's. It's sort of a drive-in place. They come out to your car with your order."
"Sounds perfect. Think you could show me where it is?"
"Sure...you...um...go down College Drive an..."
"No, Jared. I mean, How 'bout going with me - showing me the way."
The boy's eyes widened. "In your car?" he breathed.
Garrett smiled again at the boy's wide-eyed amazement. "Yep."
"Yeah!" Jared squeaked. The boy's heart was pounding as they walked back through the gates to the parking lot. Suddenly Jared stiffened. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. Garrett had reached over and was sort of guiding him toward a car, a bright red corvette convertible. "Wow," Jared breathed.
"Yeah," Garrett said as he gently squeezed the boy's shoulder, "That's what I said when I saw it for the first time, too."
In no time Jared was in the passenger seat and buckled up, and Garrett was sitting next to him. He looked over at Jared and smiled. "You think you ought to let your folks know what you're doing?"
"Nah," Jared said. "They don't get home until 6. I'll be able to get home before that." With that, Garrett turned the key and the engine roared to life. Jared giggled out loud, he couldn't help it. It was all too much. Here he was sitting in Garrett Miller's car, and Garrett was treating him just like he was a friend or something! Awesome. That little boy's laugh sealed the bond for Garrett. He had to be with this boy! He couldn't help himself.
When they pulled into Granger's, all eyes were on them, but Garrett seemed to be focused only on Jared. "So, what's good?"
"I like the raspberry-lime rickeys," Jared crowed.
"Sounds good to me," the quarterback said.
Even before the drinks came, people were staring, but no one was bold enough to come up to them. Garrett in the mean time ignored all the attention. Jared realized it must be this way wherever he went, and it actually made Jared a little uncomfortable because people were staring at him, too.
"So...do you play Pop Warner?"
"Yeah," Jared said.
"What position do you like?"
Jared grinned. "Well, we play lots of positions...but I...like quarterback."
"Me, too." Garrett grinned and his eyes sparkled. It was kind of funny hearing him say the obvious that way and Jared laughed softly. Yet again, that little boy laugh made Garrett's heart skip a beat. Oh yeah, he was already in love with the eleven-year-old.
Just then a man carrying a little boy, practically climbed into Garrett's car. "Ask him," the man demanded. "Can I have your...?" the four-year-old seemed stumped. "Autograph," the man squawked. He took the boy's hand and thrust it (along with the paper it held) right in front of Jared, and as he did so, Jared was lifting his drink. In an instant, some of the drink spilled over Jared's shirt and down onto his shorts. The child pulled his hand back, and the man mumbled something about being sorry and backed away.
Jared looked like he was about ready to cry. "I'm...really sorry, Mr. Miller. I..."
"Hey, Jared, it's not your fault. You don't need to be sorry at all." He glared at the man who decided he'd forget the autograph. "And Mr. Miller's my father. I'm Garrett to my friends."
Jared beamed and blushed a bright red. "It's...I think it's on your seat." In a flash Jared had pulled off his t-shirt and lifted his butt off the seat and was wiping down underneath it.
"Jared, don't worry about it. If it's a problem, I'll get it cleaned up." Garrett gazed at the boy as he let his bottom settle back down onto the seat. He was now bare from the waist up, and Garrett was almost speechless. He knew he shouldn't be staring, but he couldn't help it. The boy was a god. His taut belly was as smooth as satin, except for a few muscled ripples. His inny belly button was perfect. His rosy little nipples rose to nail points. His torso tapered just slightly to just above his narrow hips. The rest - sadly was, for the moment, hidden from his view, though the boy's wet shorts hinted at what lay underneath. Garrett swallowed hard.
Jared wondered why the quarterback was staring at him that way. He seemed uncertain, uncertain for more than one reason. "It looks like I wet my pants," the boy murmured. It was out of his mouth before he'd even thought about it. He blushed and shot a look at Garrett who was looking right at his crotch.
"Yeah," Garrett said, "it does, sort of." He grinned like it was a joke, and that made Jared grin, too. "You could take them off, too...if you want to," Garrett added. He made a look and grinned a big, silly grin. Jared blushed again as Garrett stared at him. "Or not," Garrett said. "Anyway, you're right: raspberry lime rickey's are the best - even on your crotch!" The man moved his eyebrows lewdly up and down a few times, making Jared grin - and blush, of course. Then Garrett said, "I'm gonna have another. You want one?"
"Okay, sure," Jared said.
"Tell you what: let's order and get out of here. It's getting kind of close to 6. How about I take you home."
Jared almost gasped. Garrett Miller was going to drive him home, but before he did, he had one more surprise. "Here," Garrett reached behind the seat and pulled out a Miner's player's shirt-#6. "Why don't you put this on since yours is kind of sticky. Jared was frozen. "Wow..." Slowly the boy took the shirt and slipped it on. It was about twenty sizes too big for him, but...it was Garrett's team shirt...and now he was wearing it! Garrett reached down and patted Jared's thigh. "Sorry I can't do anything about your shorts....but at least the shirt'll keep people from staring...down there." Jared saw Garrett's eyes zero in on his damp crotch. Smiling, Garrett left his hand on the boy's leg and gently stroked it. Jared's insides were getting all tingly. He didn't understand what was happening, but it was about the most incredible feeling he'd ever had. "That shirt looks pretty good on you," Garrett said, and with a final squeeze, lifted his hand from the boy's leg. Jared felt the tingly feeling start to fade. He was glad Garrett's shirt was covering his crotch because if it wasn't Jared might ruin everything - or to be precise, Jared's thing might ruin everything, because without the shirt, Garrett would have seen a pronounced lump where the boy's little penis had throbbed to an achingly hard erection. Jared looked over at Garrett and smiled. His hero didn't seem to have the vaguest idea that Jared was about ready to explode. Except Garrett knew all the signs: the pounding heart, the flushed face, the goosebumped skin. The boy was about to orgasm - maybe his first ever - and he, Garrett Miller had been the cause of it! Which made him feel as excited, as aroused as he'd felt in years, ever since Billy, his last boy, had grown up and left his life.
When Garrett and Jared drove down Jared's street, his friends were out playing ball on Carl and Scott's front lawn. They saw the hot car first, then one of them recognized Garrett, and then they all saw Jared. By the time Garrett had pulled into the Daniels' driveway, a swarm of kids was heading toward Jared's house. The car was surrounded by a half a dozen kids. Jared was actually embarrassed. He kept looking over at Garrett who was much more cool about everything. It was as if they had a secret pact. Each knew what the other was thinking as the neighborhood kids threw questions at Garrett and he answered patiently. Finally, Jared got concerned about Garrett being stuck with a bunch of kids, so he interrupted: "Um, Garrett, maybe I ought to be going...so...you know..." He grinned, and Garrett did know. He was so moved by the boy's concern for him that he felt almost like crying. Jared got out of the car and stood there for a moment looking at Garrett. He stood between the side of the car and the open door. The kids had sort of backed away, making a space for him, as if he were a celebrity. Jared wished they weren't there, because he really wanted to tell Garrett how he felt, how incredibly awesome it was to have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be with him. There were all kinds of things Jared wanted to say, but with all the kids around, he just couldn't do it.
"Thanks," Jared mumbled finally, "thanks for...everything."
Garrett held up his cup from Granger's. "Thank you, Jared. I've got a new favorite watering hole!"
Jared grinned. Suddenly it was as if nobody else was around - except him and Garrett. They were linked. The boy didn't understand it, but he knew both of them felt that way. And then Jared heard a voice. "What's..." Jared turned. His dad and mom were walking up the driveway. His dad looked at him, and then at the car. "It's my mom and dad," Jared said softly, and Garrett turned and Jared's dad stopped dead, and then so did his mom. "Mom, Dad, um...this is Garrett Miller." Now Garrett was getting out of the car. He turned to face the Daniels. "Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels." In a daze, first Jared's dad, then his mom took the big firm hand in theirs - a hand that had thrown passes to win two Superbowls in as many years. "Bill Daniels," Jared's father managed to say, "and my wife, Sue." They were even more tongue-tied than their son, so Jared tried to relieve the pressure. "Garrett wanted to know a good place to get something to drink, so I took him to Granger's, and a guy spilled my drink on me, so Garrett gave me his shirt, and then I needed to get home, so he gave me a ride, and..." Now Jared turned to Garrett. "It..." The boy blushed because there was so much more to say. "...it was awesome being out there on the practice field with you today."
Garrett smiled. "You've got a great son, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. He kind'a reminds me of my sister's boy. I really miss being back home with them." Garrett knew that adults often needed some sort of explanation for his interest in a boy. As flimsy a reason as this was, it was enough. Whenever the boy's parents might ask themselves why this pro player was seemingly so interested in their son, they'd think, oh, he misses his nephew. And that would be all the reason they'd need. After all, he was Garrett Miller, there could be no other reason. Then suddenly he saw a solution to something that had been nagging at him. All the time they'd been together, Garrett had been trying to figure out how to go to the next step. In Jared's innocent remark, he finally found a way to make that happen. "Well...the practice field's pretty neat, but what's really awesome is the stadium." By the "stadium" everyone knew Garrett was talking about BigDawg Park. (Naming rights for the stadium, as in other cities, went to one of the hot dot coms a half dozen years ago. BigDawg was one that managed to survive.) There'd been a continual murmur among the kids, but suddenly there was dead silence. "You ought to step out onto that field sometime. Now that's awesome."
Jared swallowed. "The 'Dawg? Wow, it must be awesome!"
Garrett nodded and turned to Jared's parents. "Hey, would it be okay if I took Jared over to the park sometime?"
Jared thought his dad was actually trembling. "Sure," his dad was saying.
"Great," Garrett said. "It's a date, then. We'll figure out a good time. Deal?"
Jared nodded so hard he might have fractured his neck.
Now Garrett got back into his car, and revved the engine once. "Okay then, you'll be at the field tomorrow, Jared?"
"Yeah,"
"Okay, see you then," Garrett said, and began to slowly back down the driveway.
That night, Jared went to bed earlier than usual. For some reason, he felt as if he wanted to be alone. Finally, he bounded into his bedroom. He was still wide awake, though it still felt as if the last six hours were all a dream.
With his door shut, Jared found himself staring at his reflection in his mirror. Garrett's shirt stretched all the way down almost to his knees. He still couldn't believe it. Garrett Miller, star quarterback, had given him his shirt, had spent time with him - had wanted to spend time with him - and had actually touched him. That was the most awesome part. That was the part that had made him feel so strange. Carefully Jared removed the shirt and laid it over his desk. He smoothed it out the best he could. Then he caught his image in the mirror again. He was bare chested, but it was his thigh that Jared stared. Just hours ago, Garrett Miller had touched him there. Jared tried to make the feeling real again - the feeling he'd gotten when Garrett had stroked his leg. Then he suddenly realized that he was now as he'd been in Garrett's car when Garrett had stared at him that way. It was the way he was when his hero and touched him that way, had rubbed his leg. It was the way he was when Jared felt his heart start to beat like crazy, how he felt hot all of a sudden, how his body stiffened, how he felt tingly all over but especially in that strangest of all places. Why should his dick feel that way when Garrett touched him? It was confusing, but it was also exciting. Jared stripped off his shorts and kicked them next to the bureau. His boxers were loose-fitting but they showed off much of his body. As was his habit, he lay down on his bed wearing just those. He lay there for a moment with images of Garrett again cluttering his brain. And slowly, Jared let his hands trail down his body coming to rest on his thighs. He worked on them the way Garrett had done. He wondered - desperately hoped even - that his touches might awaken him even as Garrett's touches had done. He felt his thing begin to stir, but it never got as hard as it had when Garrett had carressed him. It was all so weird. He wanted desperately for Garrett to touch him again that way. His fear is that he would; his fear was that he wouldn't. For a split second, he even imagined Garrett touching his - you know - his thing. It was such a bad thought, but he couldn't help it. His own hand hand found its way underneath his boxers. He squeezed it once, then twice, but it was just too weird, and now he quickly pulled it away. As he lay there trying to settle down for the night, he wondered if Garrett would really take him to see BigDawg Park. He wondered why the quarterback had been so kind to him.
What he couldn't know was that at this very moment, Garrett Miller was also lying awake in bed. He, too was reliving those special moments in the car, gazing upon that spectacular body, even managing to touch it. The boy was exquisite, and the man tried to recapture the way touching him had made him feel. All the while the man's hand was busy giving his cock the attention it needed. It was a blur, sweeping up and down over the steel-hard tool. "Jared, oh Jared, do it faster, honey," the man murmured, then then, abruptly, the explosion that the man had been desperate for began in his balls and thundered throughout his body. There was nothing else like the feeling that that sweet little boy was creating in his body - not even winning the Superbowl.
The next day, all of Jared's friends were back at Bryce Field. Garrett was there, too, of course, as was Jared. When the players had a break, Garrett managed to break away from the reporters long enough to give the boys a wave. Then along about mid-afternoon, one of the trainer's assistants found Jared as he was headed for the men's room. "Hey," the man said.
"Hey," Jared responded cautiously.
"You're Jared?"
"Yeah."
"Ah...Garrett wants you to meet him in the field house after practice."
"How?"
The man wasn't prepared for this. "I dunno...slip under the railing, I guess. When the team's leaving the field. Um...I'll be there I guess. Oh, and...um...just you. Sorry, but your friends...well...you know...sorry."
By the end of the day, a few of Jared's friends had lost interest. (Oakland was playing the Yankees, and they didn't want to miss that!) Then as the team started off the field, Garrett Miller looked up at the boys - well, one boy in particular. It seemed his gaze was a little obvious. Mike, one of Jared's friends, noticed and giggled and whispered, "I think he likes you." It was sort of a silly thing to say because it sounded like what you might say about a girl and a guy, and...well...Mike was saying it about a star football player. That's what made it so funny. Jared laughed, but inside he was actually a little miffed at Mike. He liked the idea that Garrett might like him. What was wrong with that - even if it was like a girl?
Now the quarterback jestered to Jared, pointed to him so there was no doubt he meant just him, and the boy walked down the bleachers to the rail. In a flash, Jared scooted under the railing and was standing next to Garrett. Together they walked into the field house.
"Go on in with Eddie," Garrett told Jared. I'll be in in a minute. Eddie, the trainer took the boy into a small room with a table. There were some towels and other stuff around. The trainer was getting stuff ready for something. Jared watched quietly. Then the door opened, and there was Garrett. He was naked, except for a skimpy towel around his waist. Eddie slapped the table, and Garrett got on it and laid down. The trainer went to work on his throwing arm, massaging it and rubbing some kind of goo into his skin.
"So," Garrett said softly. "What'd you think today?"
"Cool," Jared said, unsure what Garrett was asking.
"I had a little trouble with the short pass to the right."
"Yeah," Jared said, "You kept missing short."
That made Eddie slow up on his work and he cast a quick glance down at the QB. Jared caught that, and realized maybe he shouldn't have said anything.
"It's okay, Jared," Garrett said with a wink up at the trainer. "I was."
"I...um..."
"What?" Garrett asked.
"I think you were getting a little frustrated," the boy said with a glance up at the trainer.
"You're right."
Jared wondered if he should say what he was thinking, because it was kind of stupid to be saying to a quarterback. "Um...you want to know why...maybe?"
Eddie kept working, but almost wished he could melt away. This had all the makings of a disaster. Most pro players don't take criticism gracefully, especially prima dona quarterbacks - not that Garrett was a prima dona - but Eddie was afraid what might happen next. Eddie felt Garrett's muscles tighten.
After a second, Garrett said, "Sure."
"Well..." Jared blushed. "I guess it's kind of stupid I guess...but my coach says when I'm passing to always make the same movement: ball next to my ear...and move down across my body on the follow-through to my opposite hip."
"Yeah?"
"Well...today you were kind of stopping before your hand got down over your left hip."
Garrett waved off the trainer and sat up. "Show me."
Jared blushed again, but did what Garrett asked. "Well, you're supposed to do it this way..." Jared demonstrated. "But you were doing it this way..." Garrett saw the difference right away. "But," added Jared, "that only started today."
Garrett looked at the trainer. "Maybe I was getting distracted."
Eddie shrugged. "Don't look at me."
"Go get Coach Winthrop."
When Eddie had left, Garrett smiled gently at the boy. "I was being distracted...every time I looked up in the stands." He raised his eyebrows and grinned, and Jared knew he meant every time he looked at him, which of course made him blush. Which was great, because it was just the sign Garrett needed to let him know the boy understood.
Joe Winthrop was the Miners quarterbacks' coach.
"Coach, was I short on my follow-through today?"
Coach Winthrop was silent. Jared could almost see him replaying the day in his head. "You know," he said finally. "I think maybe you were. Your arm okay?"
"Yeah...fine," Garrett answered. "I just...I guess I wasn't as focused as I should have been."
"Good catch," Coach said.
"Wasn't me," Garrett offered.
"Eddie?" the coach said, studying the trainer. "You finally picking up some of the game's subtleties?"
"Not me, Coach."
"It was Jared," Garrett said, gesturing to the boy that Coach had barely noticed when he'd entered the training room. Now Winthrop eyed the boy.
"Hm...maybe we oughta put you on the coaching staff," the man said. He didn't smile, but Jared knew he was really just kidding. The boy blushed. Garrett loved it when he did that.
"I'll watch for that tomorrow," Coach said. "Good catch, kid."
It wasn't long before Eddie was done. Garrett got up and started out the door. He stopped and turned to Jared. "You comin'?" Jared grinned and stepped to Garrett's side. Garrett took the boy into the locker room. Most of the players had left. A few were still getting dressed, but none of them were totally naked. The players were huge. Next to some of them Garrett seemed sort of small, but he was bigger than Jared's dad, and now Jared could see his muscles real good. They were everywhere, his arms and legs, his stomach, his back. His upper body tapered like a "V" down to his hips. Jared trembled as he gazed upon Garrett's body. "I'll be back in a sec. Just want to get that linement shit off me." Jared reddened at the mildly foul language, then smiled. Garrett seemed to sense he'd made the boy uncomfortable. "Sorry," he said, "but that stuff stinks. Here, you can look at this if you want." Garrett tossed him a Sports Illustrated. It happened to be an old swimsuit issue, and Garrett wondered if Jared would even look at the models.
Ten minutes later, Garrett was back, glistening with water and only a towel around his waist. His short blond hair was matted to his skull. As he approached, Jared was studying the magazine - an article on football. Whether he'd spent any time gazing at the swimsuit models, Garrett couldn't know, but he guessed - hoped - he hadn't. "What'cha looking at?" The boy jumped. Again his eyes were drawn to his hero's body, tight and taut and muscular. His eyes drifted down his torso, past his chest with just a hint of light hair around his nipples, then smooth and firm down to his belly were a narrow trail of hair led from his belly button downward, disappearing under the towel which hung low over his hips. And below, the towel stretched taut over a swollen mound. Jared's eyes were riveted to that until he glanced quickly up and saw that Garrett was watching him practically salivating over the quarterback's body. Jared actually trembled as he looked at the man. "See anything interesting?" Garrett asked. For an instant, Jared was confused, then he figured the quarterback had to have realized he meant the magazine, but then the boy still wasn't sure exactly. Garrett grinned his silly grin, and Jared wondered again if maybe he wasn't referring to his own body. And it was, to Jared's way of thinking, very exciting, even if no one could ever know. Jared shrugged and grinned. "Football."
"I thought you might have looked through the swimsuit pages," Garrett said.
"Nah," the boy answered off-handedly, then froze realizing the implications. "Um...not yet." He reddened.
"Well...whatever floats your boat."
Now Garrett reached down and deliberately began to remove the towel. When he did, Jared nearly gasped aloud. He couldn't help it: his eyes snapped down at Garrett's crotch. He was actually disappointed because the towel continued to cover the most interesting part of Garrett's anatomy. Then feeling the weight of his guilt, he forced himself to turn away. At the same time, Garrett turned to face his locker. He continued to dry himself and watch Jared's reaction in the small mirror on the inside of the locker door. The boy couldn't help himself. He had to turn back to look. This time he wasn't disappointed. While he couldn't see the man's front, his glorious butt was there not three feet from his face. It was really weird for the boy. He'd never thought about butts before, but suddenly he felt himself getting more and more excited at looking at Garrett's behind. It looked like two rounded mountains of muscle, firm and hard, and a little hairy. The sides of each were pinched, actually indented just behind each hip. This seemed to accent the outcropping of each incredible cheek. Each lifted a good four inches away from the plain of Garrett's back. They were mystically round and smooth, with just a hint of light colored hair. Jared found the hair sort of exciting, too. Each mound was like a magnet pulling at the boy, demanding his attention.
Jared's face grew hot. He felt like he couldn't get enough oxygen and his face flushed red. His heart pounded and he vibrated with excitement. It was almost more than he could bare. He wanted to reach out and touch the man's bottom, he really did! And then the most troubling thing of all happened. He began to get hard. There was no way to stop it. His thing just kept getting harder and harder. If Garrett ever turned around and looked, he'd see for sure. Jared grabbed for the magazine and slapped it down in his lap. He glanced up and that's when he noticed Garrett's eyes gazing back at him in the mirror. Jared instantly felt like he was going to die. Garrett must have been watching him the whole time. Garrett twisted around now. "Everything okay?"
The boy's eyes flashed downward, but towel which Garrett held, drooped down the middle of the man's body and still kept his genitals hidden from Jared's view. Again, he was sure Garrett had seen him do that. He looked up guiltily. "Yeah," Jared squeaked. "Ah...maybe I should wait outside...cuz'...um...you know...give you some privacy."
"Hey," Garrett said with a smile as he reached in and pulled out some white briefs and quickly pulled them on. "We're both guys," he said, using the age-old logic of a boy lover. Jared kept his eyes riveted to the top of Garrett's head. Then Garrett straightened up and turned around.
Jared's eyes again betrayed him, flowing over Garrett's taut body and tight, white briefs. Even in that briefest of peeks, Jared could see the outline of the man's thing. It was huge. The boy swallowed hard. He tingled all over. It was like electricity was coursing through his body and centering on his dick. The sight of his hero almost naked was driving him wild. It was so confusing. He'd never felt anything like this before. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn't move. "Um...where's the bathroom?"
Garrett grinned, knowing all so well the effect he was having on the boy. It excited him to think that the boy was so aroused from just looking. He wanted in the worst way to know if the boy was going to jack himself in the can or if he really just suddenly needed to go. He almost decided he'd go with the boy, but he decided not to. There'd be time for that later. And he'd know if the boy was doing more than just emptying his bladder by how long he was gone. The man pointed in the direction of the toilets and Jared was off like a shot. It made him smile again. How blessed, he thought, how incredibly blessed he was to have found this boy.
It was three days later, and Garrett made good on his promise. It was Friday, and the coach had given the team the day off. And so Garrett was again parked in the Daniels' driveway as Jared piled in. In no time they were on the highway heading south toward San Francisco.
Jared had never been to BigDawg Park. He'd seen it from the highway, but he'd never been in it to see a game.
Garrett parked in the player's lot. Then he and Jared walked down a maze of hallways and into the locker room. It was a lot nicer than the Bryce one. Garrett had a bag with him, and now he stopped and opened up the bag. "Time to suit up," he said, and handed Jared a pair of special shoes - just about Jared's size, in fact, just about perfect. "The groundskeeper doesn't like anyone on the turf in street shoes," Garrett explained. He put on a pair from his locker, and then with his hand on the boy's shoulder, Garrett guided Jared out another door to a ramp leading toward the outside. The cleats clicked and echoed on the walls of the ramp, and then they were on the field! Jared looked up at Garrett and beamed. The boy's heart pounded. This was unbelieveable. Now as they walked out toward the 50 yard line, they began to hear shouts and people calling to Garrett. They turned and saw a large crowd of kids and adults in the stands - maybe a hundred or so. Garrett waved, and they cheered. "They give tours sometimes," he explained. There'd been workers pounding and banging on the other side of the field, but when they heard the shouting, they stopped and called out to Garrett themselves. Again he offered the obligatory wave. Now another guy appeared on the field who wore a Miners t-shirt and an official-looking photo ID on a cloth strap around his neck. "Sorry I'm late," he said. He carried a camera and looked like he was afraid Garrett might be mad.
"No problem," Garrett said. "We're just going to mess around for a while. Can you grab some shots?"
"Sure," the man said.
Now Garrett reached back into the bag and pulled out a football. "Wanna go out for a pass?" Jared's eyes widened and he tried to speak but only a squeak came out. He nodded furiously. "Okay then, let's run a little dogleg." They set up. Jared felt Garrett's hands between his legs. It was like the man's thumbs were pressing up against his balls. Jared shivered and tensed. Garrett must have noticed what was happening to the boy, and he whispered, "Just relax, Jared. Take a breath." Then Garrett counted off, and Jared hiked the ball. Garrett took it, and Jared ran the route he'd seen Miners' receivers run for days, Garrett dropped back and threw the ball. Jared was as nervous as he'd ever been in his life, but he made the catch perfectly. The people watching cheered, which made the boy blush...but also grin from ear to ear. Next, they ran a similar play to the other side. And then a long pass. Jared ran out about 40 yards, and Garrett threw it, putting it right onto the boy's hands. It was another spectacular catch. All the while, the photographer was taking pictures. Jared ran back. Garrett tossed him the ball. "I'll go out," Garrett said with a smile. "How far?"
"How about 20 yards down the middle, then break for the sidelines."
"You got it." Garrett did exactly that, and Jared put the ball right in his belly. Perfect. Again everyone cheered. Garrett trotted back. "Hey, you got a pretty good arm, bud."
Jared beamed. "Thanks," he said shyly as Garrett gave him back the ball. Then he got a twinkle in his eyes. "Bet you can't catch me." He turned abruptly and took off for the goal line, but before he'd gotten twenty yards downfield, Garrett Miller, star quarterback was tackling him. They tumbled to the ground, and Garrett rolled over him, lifting him effortlessly so he was on top. They were both giggling like little kids. "Think you could outrun me, huh?" Garrett chuckled.
"I wasn't running my fastest," Jared declared with a look that said he was lying through his teeth. He grinned like the cheshire cat, but then suddenly he realized he was laying on Garrett Miller, and it seemed as natural as when he and his buddies played in the local park. And then down at his thigh, he felt something pressing against him, something that seemed to get bigger as time passed. Jared's smile eased and he looked into Garrett's eyes. Garrett saw the change, and wished they were all alone instead of being the focus of a 150 pairs of eyes and one camera. Quickly he picked the boy up and effortlessly got up off the ground. He patted Jared on the butt, and said, "Anything else you want to do while we're here?"
Jared was still in heaven from being on the field, but also from being held by Garrett. The boy couldn't explain it, but he felt like he never wanted him to let him go, and now that he had, he felt stranger still, almost an empty feeling. For his part, the quarterback wondered if the boy had felt his manhood hardening from the contact with the perfect specimen of boyhood.
"I don't think so. This is so totally awesome! I'll never forget this!" Jared said. "Never! You're the greatest, Garrett! Really, I lov..." The boy caught himself. "...I mean it! Really! Thank you." Jared leaned in just the slightest bit, and then stopped. The weirdest idea had come into his head. He had almost been thinking he would kiss Garrett. Oh my God, he thought, what am I thinking? But it also seemed as if Garrett had done the same thing, leaning in just slightly, just wanting a little more contact with the eleven-year old.
And then it was over. Garrett asked the photographer when the photos would be ready. To Jared's surprise he said later on in the afternoon. "You got anything else scheduled today?" Garrett asked the boy.
"No," he muttered.
"Well, how about we stop at my place for a while, then we'll come back and see how they came out."
Jared's answer was a big shit-eating grin. Garrett's heart raced. It wouldn't be long now.
Garrett Miller's home was a cross between a mansion and a ranch house. It was off in the middle of nowhere built on the side of a mountain, utterly alone. Some 60 acres went with the house, and from all but one direction, it was hidden from prying eyes. An electric gate opened as they approached and closed as soon as they were through.
When they got into the house, Garrett checked his messages. He called his business manager and had a long boring conversation. Meanwhile, Jared was free to poke around. He ended up in a weight room, oogling all the equipment.
"Pretty neat, huh?"
"Yeah," Jared said as he turned to find Garrett standing in the doorway staring at him. "Awesome."
"You want to try some of them?"
"Sure." Jared headed straight for the Bowflex. "That's the thing on TV, right?"
"I think so."
"Ahh...before you get all sweated up...maybe you should..." Garrett stopped. "Never mind, I guess."
"What?"
"Maybe...well...I was going to say maybe you should take off your shirt and shorts...just so they won't get all sweaty...but maybe that's a little too...I dunno...strange. It's just that I usually work out in the nude." Jared stiffened and swallowed hard. Garrett continued, "I don't think much about it, cuz' nobody's ever around when I do it. Your decision."
The boy blushed as he pictured Garrett working out in those white underpants he'd seen him put on the other day. Then Jared realized what the man had said: ...in the nude, and Jared blushed even more. Meanwhile, Garrett gazed out the huge picture windows, and waited. He heard the boy moving around, and turned back to sneak a peek.
"Hey," Jared said softly as Garrett caught him in the act of lowering his shorts.
"Sorry, bud." Garrett looked at the firm, small body. He didn't look away. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of," he said softly. "You've got a great body."
Jared blushed and kind of got tangled all up in his shorts, and lost his balance. In a flash, Garrett reached out and lifted him up. "Hey, guy, watch yourself." He grinned, and now the boy did, too.
Garrett adjusted the machine and gestured for Jared to lay down. The boy was cute as a button, beautiful even as he lay there, his plaid boxers hiding his charms. The boy pulled on the bar above his head and he lifted off the bench. "Here," Garrett suggested. "Scoot up." The man bent the boy's knees and then sat down, straddling the bench. He drew the boy's legs over his legs and around his hips. He reached out and grasped the boys smooth, warm flesh at either side of his torso. Jared gasped at the touch of those massive, strong hands, but he was also surprised at how gentle they were. "You like those things?" Garrett stared down the boy's boxers.
"Yeah, I guess. Most everybody wears 'em at my school. You wear briefs?" Jared reddened.
"Yeah, I kinda like the way they sort of...you know...hold you together. Sort of like a jock, ya' know?"
Jared nodded. This was a forbidden subject, and yet - here he was, talking to Garrett Miller about his underpants. He thought he shouldn't really be talking about things that were so "private", but it was also strangely exciting.
"Actually," Garrett continued, holding the boy's gaze in his own, "they're great if you get...um...you know...like a boner. With boxers, it just sort of pops up...but briefs sort of hold it in. Jared turned bright red, and Garrett momentarily worried that maybe he'd pushed too hard, too fast.
"Maybe," Jared said softly, "I ought to get some briefs."
Garrett flashed a look down at the boy's crotch. There was the unmistakable uplifting of fabric.
"Yeah," Garrett grinned, as did the boy. "I see what you mean." Jared turned bright red. Garrett relaxed a bit then, and proceeded on.
"Anyway, ready to try again?" Garrett asked. Jared was, and with Garrett holding him down, it worked much better. Each time he'd pull down, the boy could feel the Garrett's strength holding him in place, and Garrett could feel the boy's body tightening, working. In just a short time, the boy was working up a good sweat. "Okay, Jared, maybe try some old-fashioned sit-ups. Sometimes simpler is better. Here...down on the floor." Jared scrambled to the mat on the floor. His arms were a bit sore from his workout. Now he lay down on the mat, and Garrett knelt down over his legs. He leaned down on the boy's legs just below his knees, and Jared began a series of sit-ups. Slowly, as the boy worked, Garrett's hands worked their way upward. His thumbs innocently played back and forth over the inner part of the boy's firm thighs. Each time he'd lift up, Jared would look at Garrett's eyes. The quarterback seemed happy, but totally unaware of what he was doing. Jared, on the other hand, was very aware. His body was changing the way it did every time Garrett touched him. He was getting hotter, his face was burning and he had a hard time breathing. His chest was pounding, and shivers coursed through his body, and then, as Garrett's thumbs moved higher, even drifting momentarily under the hem of the his boxers, Jared felt it happening again. His thing began to get harder. There'd be no hiding it if it didn't go down, and yet the boy couldn't think of a way to stop. He wished he had briefs, maybe Garrett was right, maybe that wouldn't be so obvious.
Garrett could see the boy growing more and more agitated. He could see the physical changes in the boy, and he knew why. He smiled at Jared, trying to let him know it was okay whatever happened. "You're doin' great, champ," Garrett whispered. "Almost there. Keep ripping them off." Jared felt the man massaging his legs and he felt like he was going to explode. At any moment, something incredible was going to happen, only Jared had no idea what. He was getting tingly all over.
Just when Garrett figured the boy was about ready to pop, he patted the boy's legs. "Hey, okay...let's take a break. That was quite a workout. I think you're ready for a break, don't you?" Jared stole a quick glance down at his crotch. His boxers tented upward. It would be obvious to anyone who might look, and now Garrett did. He grinned and then looked into Jared's eyes, which were full of shame. The eleven-year-old's cheeks reddened. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just natural. When I'm here working out, it happens all the time. In fact...well...it's sort'a happened to me now. Jared couldn't help looking down and under the man's trousers saw a definite swelling. What's more, it almost seemed as if there were a hint of dampness at one spot. Hmm, the boy thought, for some reason Garrett must have worked up a sweat, too.
"Why's that happen?" Jared asked innocently.
"What?"
"You know...why does 'it' get..." The boy blushed a deep red. He couldn't believe he was about to say this to an adult, but not just any adult, to Garrett Miller! And yet somehow, Jared knew he could say almost anything to Garrett and it would be okay. He took a breath. "...like...you know...a stiffie." There, he'd said it, he'd whispered that dirty word, the word his friends whispered when they talked about that stuff.
"Not sure. It just does. Maybe because you get excited. Maybe 'cuz it feels sort of sexy...I don't know." Garrett stared directly into the boy's eyes. "I just know it kind of feels pretty incredible though, doesn't it? Not as good as it can feel, but pretty damn good!"
Jared reddened. That's exactly how it felt, but somehow, it seemed he shouldn't be saying so. "I guess," he shrugged. But what did Garrett mean about not as good as it can feel?
"I guess is right! I saw how you were looking!" Garrett said with a grin, but not letting the boy get away with anything. Until now, Jared was laying down on the mat, his legs outstretched. Now Garrett offered his hand and effortlessly lifted the boy to his feet. "Hey...you want to cool off with a swim?"
"Yeah!" Jared had seen the swimming pool on his little tour of the house. It was huge. They moved out onto the patio. Garrett grabbed his shirt and pulled it off over his head. Jared had seen him almost naked, but now in the bright sun, he gazed again at the beautiful body. He was almost embarrassed at how good Garrett looked and how puny he looked. And then he had a more pressing thought. "I don't have a swimsuit."
"Oh," Garrett responded, then more softly, "Oh...I...I guess...um...Sorry...um...this is a little embarrassing. I guess I thought maybe you didn't need one." The boy blushed and Garrett continued: "I mean...well...I...well...up here all alone, I guess I don't worry about a suit."
Jared's eyes widened. "You mean...like..." He reddened even more. "skinny-dipping?"
Garrett grinned and then raised his eyebrows a few times quickly. "When you say it like that...it's a little...I dunno...it sounds a little sexy. It would be kind of fun, wouldn't it?"
Jared swallowed and stared at his hero. This was all pretty confusing. Garrett Miller sounded like he wanted to get naked with him. But no, thought Jared, that's me thinking that. Garrett's not thinking about being naked, it's just no big deal for him. I'm the one making it a big deal. Maybe that's how sports guys are. I mean they're in locker rooms all the time, so maybe it really is no big deal for him.
"What?" Garrett asked interuppting the boy's thoughts. "You a little shy?" Garrett sat and was taking off his shoes and socks.
Jared frowned. "I guess...it's...just..."
Garrett got up and stepped to the boy. He put his hands on his bare shoulders. They felt warm and strong and gentle. "Just what, Jared?"
Jared stared into the man's eyes. "I dunno...I've never done it before."
"Then it's going to be very special for me to have this be your first time."
"But..."
"But what?"
"Well..." The boy was so confused. "You're body is so...awesome." The boy blushed deeply, then continued. "And...mine is..."
Garrett's hands slipped down along his smooth, firm biceps, then forearms. He took the boy by the hands and backed up a few steps and sat down on a bench. He opened his legs and drew the boy closer. "Jared, I think you have an incredible body." Garrett blushed at his own honesty, and the boy blushed, too. "Really."
"You're..." Jared frowned. "...you're just saying that. I'm skinny."
"Jared, I don't think you're skinny. You're strong and wiry. They'd say a dancer is lithe, and nobody's in better shape than a dancer. Honest. Your body is lithe. And I think it's...great." He ran his hands up along his arms, and felt the boy tremble under his touches.
"You do?" Jared asked, his voice cracking. "Really?"
"Really," Garrett said softly, staring into the boy's eyes. He knew how the boy was feeling, so he chose to describe his own feelings in exactly the same way. "I sneak peeks at your body, and I start getting hot, and have to breathe hard, and I feel tingly, and..." He let his voice drop to a whisper. "...my penis starts to get hard."
Jared felt like his head was swimming. He didn't know what to say or even how he was really feeling. In one way for a guy to be telling another guy he really liked his body, it seemed really strange, like pervy even, and yet, Jared was so excited at hearing what Garrett had said to him. It was exactly how he got looking at Garrett! He really likes me, the boy thought. And yet Jared knew it was even more than "like", it was something different, something special between just Garrett and him, and what's more, he knew the feeling was mutual. He loved looking at Garrett's body. He loved touching it, he loved that Garrett was holding him even now. It made his heart pound and his body tingle - just the way Garrett said his body was feeling. "Garrett?"
"Yes, Jared?" The man knew this was the moment of truth, or perhaps, the first of many small moments of truth - a small step (or a big one) when the boy would come to terms with who he was, who he was going to become. He only wanted to make the boy comfortable with that, to be supportive. It would be difficult for him, as it had been difficult for Garrett as a young boy.
In school, Garrett had been "a hunk", and more than that, he was a star athlete, and as such the expectation was that he was a stud. Girls fought over him like he was a trophy. More than one girl spent their nights in their beds with a finger playing over their clits dreaming about doing it with Garrett Miller - giving themselves more pleasure than Garrett ever would. (And more than one boy wanked himself with the same dream.) But Garrett cringed at the idea of a girl touching his body. He'd never wanted that. His dream was always of his Pop Warner coach who, when Garrett was thirteen, helped him discover who he really was. Until then, he'd always had these weird thoughts about the few men in his life and a few bigger boys, and it was an awful secret that he could just never tell anyone. But that changed when he got to know his coach, and Mr. Jacobs helped him understand that he wasn't a bad boy. The coach said he was just different, and then Coach Jacobs proceeded to introduce him to things he couldn't even imagine. Now he was about to do the same thing for young Jared Daniels. He knew the boy was ready. He recognized the hungering look in the boy's eyes. He could tell by the responses the boy had to being near him, to being touched. It almost brought tears to his eyes. The boy was so ready and yet so innocent. Garrett's old coach had made things better for him. Now he had a chance to make things better for this boy...if only he'd let him.
The boy was watching Garrett, he was waiting for him to come back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. Now the man gave him his full attention. "Um...Garrett..." The boy's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I think you really do have an incredible body. You're so awesome, I can't believe it."
"Believe what, Jared?"
"That...that...I'm here, next to you, and I'm...like...touching you, and...and...you're...touching me." He blushed.
Garrett moved his hands up and down the boy's arms, then let them drift between those sweet arms and the boy's torso. His fingertips danced along the boy's ribcage, feeling each indentation. The boy lifted his arms slightly, inviting Garrett to explore more and the man pulled him just a little closer and his hands washed over his smooth, straight back - up and down until his fingers touched the back of his boxers. The boy trembled and goosebumps broke out on his arms. His nipples grew erect. His breathing was ragged.
Garrett leaned into the trembling boy and breathed into his ear, "And it gets you all excited, doesn't it?"
The man felt the boy nod his agreement. "It makes you all tingly, and you're not sure why...you aren't even sure it's right, are you?"
"No," Jared breathed.
"Because it seems so weird for a man to be telling a boy how much he likes to touch his body?"
"Yeah," the boy's shaky voice answered.
"But the boy wants to touch the man's body, too, doesn't he? You do, don't you Jared? You want to touch my body...and it seems so...so...wrong...but that's what you really want to do, isn't it?"
"Yes," the boy sighed. "Yes, I do. Is it wrong, Garrett? Is it wrong to want to do that?"
Garrett lifted away from Jared just enough to be able to see his sweet face, and to gaze into those incredible chocolate eyes.
"No, Jared, no it isn't, not if the two people really, really like each other. Most people can't begin to understand it, but we do, don't we? We understand how right it is for us to want to touch each other, to hold each other. It's our secret, isn't it? Before we knew each other we both had secrets...My secret was that I like boys in a very special way...and yours...yours, Jared, is that you need to have a man hold you and touch you and make you feel good."
Jared couldn't stop trembling. "Yes," he breathed. "How did you know? I was afraid you'd find out, and...and if you did..."
"I wouldn't like you anymore."
"M-hm." The eleven-year-old was on the verge of tears.
Now Garrett pulled the boy to him and hugged his boyishly slim body to his. "First, I will never not like you, Jared. Never. And I know about your secret because I was just like you when I was a boy. I wanted a man to do things with me, to make me feel like you're feeling now...and even more. I wanted the man to love me...and I was lucky and found a man who would do that."
Jared seemed to melt into the man.
"Will you do that for me, Garrett? Will you?" The boy was almost whimpering. He sounded desperate. The man heard the need in his voice.
"Yes, Jared. If that's what you want, then I will. I would be honored to do that for you. I would love to do that. You're such a special boy. I saw that the very first day you came to practice camp. You were all I could think about."
The boy giggled softly. He knew Garrett was telling the truth, but it still seemed strange that a man - a pro quarterback - could feel that way about him. He wasn't anything special, and Garrett Miller thought he was. Garrett thought he was very special.
"You really think I'm special?"
"I do," Garrett replied. Now the boy felt Garrett's hands ease down either side of his body, coming to the waistband of his boxers. His fingers slipped under the gathered cloth. He looked at the boy for permission. Jared swallowed hard. He never moved, never shook his head no, never nodded yes. His eyes locked onto Garrett's. There was need in that gaze, there was acquiesence, and it was all Garrett needed. Slowly, he pressed his hands under the cloth of the boy's boxers. Garrett's fingers stretched around and down and glided over those two outcroppings of boy butt - firm and warm and deliciously smooth. Garrett sighed as did Jared. The boy had never felt anything like that. No one had ever touched him there, and he couldn't believe how it made him tingle with excitement. Now the man lifted the cloth away, and began to lower the boxers. Every centimeter of skin revealed was smoother and lighter than the last. Where, over the boy's pubis there would normally be at least a little hair, on Jared's body there was nothing except perhaps the very finest villous down.
And lower still, and the base of the boy's tiny organ was revealed. Garrett smiled - the boy saw it - and the man realized that Jared was so nervous that he'd lost his erection, but the boy lover knew it was only temporary. The boy stared into Garrett's eyes, seemingly unable to watch what the man was doing to his body, but wanting it to happen anyway. A bit more, and the now-growing boy-tool was fully exposed. Garrett let the boxers drop to the ground. "Step out of them, Jared. I want to see you completely nude." The boy kicked the boxers to the side only too happy to comply. Now Garrett moved the boy back a step or two, and let his eyes take in the essence of boyhood perfection - all four feet-ten inches of him, all 94 pounds.
His hair was soft and smooth, the texture of the softest corn silk, but much darker in color. The warm, soft summer breeze ruffled a few loose strands of his delicious hair. His eyebrows were the same shade, accenting a broad, smooth forehead, still glistening from the sweat of his workout. His brown eyes were pools of chocolate, sweet and pure. They gazed innocently straight ahead. He had a deep tan, but not enough to obscure a swath of freckles which danced from one side of his pert little button nose to the other. They seemed to be the official stamp that this creature was 100 percent "grade A" boy. Garrett smiled. The boy's lips were thin, not overly full, and red. His tongue darted out and ran over them, glossing them with his saliva. His teeth were perfectly aligned and white. When he smiled, they were like Chicklets in a row. Dimples formed with his smile. The bigger the smile, the deeper the dimples. His chin was nicely rounded with just the hint of a small scar, another sign that this was a true little boy, not some dandy. His neck was small around, but upstretched and firm, and it held his head proudly erect (as was another part of his body now that Garrett was inspecting him in this way).
His torso was a lighter bronzed color, lighter than his arms and face and lower legs. His chest was just hinting at the musculature that would accent his youth in a few years time, but already his pectorals were rising gently, capped by two rosy nodes with nail-point centers. Garrett resisted an urge to lean in and nibble on each of them. That would come later. A shallow, short valley divided his pecs from his belly which was smooth and flat, firm and inviting a caress. At the center was a delightful, in-y belly button. His torso tapered in slightly, again hinting at the body that would emerge as the boy transformed into a man. His soft pubis was mystically aninviting. This little pad of flesh was still lighter, a soft pink-tinged cream color where sunlight had never reached - until today. At the base of that gentle swelling pad was the root of Jared's maleness - boyness, to be more accurate.
By now the little penis had grown solidly erect and pointed straight up over his belly, aiming at the tip of his nose. It cast a shadow like a sundial announcing it was time. The boy's penis was uncircumcised and a bit more than three inches in length. It was perhaps the thickness of a sharpie marker, perhaps a little more. It was engorged enough with blood that it was a darker color than the skin around it, and it pulsed proudly as the boy's hero gazed at it. In it's steel-hard and uplifted state, the boy-tool revealed the smallest walnut-sized sac. The scrotum was also slightly darker in color than the surrounding skin. Just the barest hint of the two organs, so dear to a boy's journey to manhood could be seen cradled in the softly wrinkled nest that held them protectively against the boy's warm body - a sure sign that the boy was already well aroused. His long legs - dancer's legs - stretched straight and firm. His thighs showed well-developed muscles, and his knees, one with a small scab, were locked tight. His lower legs with just the slightest hint of downy-soft hair led to two small perfectly-formed feet. His toes curled slightly as if trying to anchor themselves. Garrett could not take his eyes from the boy - something Jared had noticed from the beginning, and it made him tremble under the man's gaze.
"You...are..." Garrett voice trembled, too, and Jared could hear it. "...perfection. If I were the greatest scupltor in the world, I would work and work to capture the perfect boy body, and then, when I was finished, I would have to destroy it, because it would never equal the perfection I gaze at now."
Jared blushed, the blood rushing from his neck straight up to his temples. "May I?" Garrett asked, and reached out and turned the child around. "Ohhh....ohh..." he sighed as he beheld two glorious mounds of boy flesh. The tapering of the boy's torso was even more pronounced here, and then just above the gorgeous boy ass, a gentle flattening, with no hint of the bumpy ridge of vertebrae that ran straight and true above it. This was a small plain, a space for nuzzling, for grazing, before launching into the journey downward, exploring the hidden interior between the two hillocks of muscle. They weren't round exactly. They might have been had the boy been completely relaxed, but now they were pinched in on either side, elongated and lifting the tissue that Garrett so wanted to explore with his tongue and lips, and once those regions were known, probe more deeply to reveal that secret spot which even the boy did not know existed - at least not for the purpose Garrett was hoping soon to make known.
He couldn't resist, he reached out, and with the backs of his fingertips, he lightly traced over the right cheek. Oh, sweet heaven. Such a simple act, but so sublime. He quickly lifted his hand, for just that little contact caused such a reaction in his manhood that he risked losing the fluid that he desperately wanted - needed - to share with the boy.
Now a tiny bit of the mystery had suddenly been revealed to the boy. His body's reaction to the touches of his friend - he felt now he could call him that, friend - had been a source of confusion to him, but now he began to understand: When Garrett had brushed his hand over his bottom, his thing jumped, and he shivered and his face grew warm. It was all connected. There was something mysterious about the linkage. Something would happen - and he thought he knew where - if the man kept touching him that way.
Now Garrett stood, and unbuckled his trousers. It was not enough to gaze upon the boy - perfection that he was - no, he knew he had to share himself with the boy. He had seen unmistakable glimpses in the boy's face that said he needed to see Garrett even as the man was seeing him. Garrett smiled as the boy's mouth dropped slightly. His eyes were riveted on the man's crotch. So many times in the past weeks Jared had gazed upon that forbidden spot, obsessed, driven to know what was behind the cruel cloth that denied him his goal. Now that was going to change. Garrett lowered his zip, and in one action, dropped his Dockers and pants, and, as he had commanded the boy, he stepped out of and completely discarded his own clothing. The narrow trail of hair that led from the man's navel lower now grew into a full forest of thick, dark curly hair. It was odd, the boy thought, since the hair on the man's head was a pure, flowing, straight, yellow-blond. This hair was nothing like that, it was kinked tightly - a thick nest of wiry, dark hair. But that held his attention only long enough for him to catch a breath before focusing on his true interest. His eyes dropped lower. Jared felt weak-kneed suddenly as the blood rushed from his brain. He'd never seen a man naked before - not really. He'd caught a few glimpses of his father, but it seemed to embarrass them both in a way that only made the next inadvertant glimpse even worse - despite how much the boy wanted to see "it" again. To be able to gaze upon the thing before him now made him giddy and light-headed. "It's huge," the boy whispered. Indeed, it was about average size, maybe a bit larger, but it was not - yet anyway - fully erect. That would happen soon enough, and the boy would be a part of that magic. It lay, extended perhaps six inches, over two massive eggs held in a hairy sac which hung almost as low as the man's thing itself. Garrett beamed. Any man would do so to hear such awe in the soprano voice of a sweet, loving child. Garrett had never seen such a lust-filled look in a little boy before, but there was no denying what he saw in Jared. It was all the more sweet because he was sure the boy was completely innocent, feeling the compulsion to gaze, but not understanding why and certaintly not understanding what to do next - or even that there was a "next".
As if compelled by some primeival force, the boy, with shaking hand, extended his reach. He glanced up at Garrett's face only long enough to sense the unspoken approval he saw there, and then slowly touched that part of the man that was darker than the rest of him. The thing jumped, as if it had a life of its own, and then it seemed to beat, thicken, and rotate slightly to the side. Then the boy ran his finger over the tip of the man's circumcised penis, eliciting a loud groan. A gossamer string of cystal clear fluid stuck to the tip of the boy's finger, and as he lifted away, it maintained a connection between the man's tool and the boy. The boy held his finger closer to his face, first examining visually, then smelling it. Finally he looked back up to the man questioningly. In that one act, the boy had proven all of Garrett's instincts about him had been correct.
"Guys call it pre-cum. It makes things slippery." Garrett smiled, seeing more confusion in the boy's face. When, he wondered, would the boy become curious enough - or trusting enough - to ask why things needed to be slippery?
Now Jared reached out and grasped the man's tool. He felt it instantly throb within his small hand. As it hardened, it lifted, though never as high as his own small tool, but it was warm, and save for a few hairs, almost as smooth as his own. The boy looked up and smiled. He couldn't explain it, but somehow he felt as he he'd been really hungry, and now he wasn't. Doing this thing which he knew was so wrong, now didn't seem wrong at all; it seemed right, so very right to be doing this with this man. And emboldened by this thought, he reached out with his other hand and felt the weight and girth of the two balls hanging low between the man's legs.
"Oh, Jared," the man sighed. "That feels so awesome. I can hardly stand it...I love feeling your hands there. But now, can I have a turn? I'd like to try something different - if that's okay."
Sensing some extraordinary was about to happen, Jared simply nodded. Garret took him by the hand and backed to a chaise lounge. He settled into it, then beckoned for the boy to sit down with him. The boy, not fully understanding, started to sit and the narrow strip of lounge between the edge and the man's leg, but immediately, Garrett picked him up as if he were a feather and nestled his butt over his crotch. Jared could feel the man's hair on his bottom, and he could of course feel something else as well. The man's huge thing somehow settled in between his two butt cheeks. He could feel its smoothness and warmth. It was so strange to feel something pressing into his crack, but it also felt...somehow exciting. The very touch made his own thing pump once, and his heart beat faster.
Garrett aligned the boy's legs with his own, and gently urged the boy to lay back on his chest. Jared's silky smooth hair settled up against the soft underpart of Garrett's chin. The boy trembled, and sighed. "Just relax," Garrett urged as his hands began to explore the boy's body. He started with his ears, and the ultra-soft space behind the boy's ears, then drifted down his neck. It was ridged with tendons and muscle, and without thought, Garrett tilted his head and ran first his nose, then his tongue over the smooth skin, finally nibbling on the crease where the neck joined the shoulder. The boy giggled like a five-year-old at that strange sensation, but then whispered breathlessly, "that's nice."
"Mm," Garrett responded, and then continued his downward explorations with his hands. He toyed with each little nipple, making tiny circles, until the boy ground his back into Garrett's chest, and expelled a soft, "Ohh..." followed by a tiny whimper when the man tweaked each one. The boy stiffened for an instant. The man felt the small, warm butt tighten. It was almost as if it were grasping his big tool. Then the boy relaxed as Garrett's hands continued their work downward. They moved up and down on his tummy like waves on a beach, each time dipping a bit lower as with the coming tide. By now Jared's breath was becoming ragged, and Garrett could feel the child-heart beating wildly.
Carefully avoiding the boy's genitals, Garrett reached lower and began a slow caress of the boy's thighs, his hands turning scoop-shaped to dive into the space between his legs. He used his fingernails, too, to lightly scrape over that smooth, soft skin and firm muscle. The boy was now tensing and relaxing with almost every movement of Garrett's hands. In fact, the boy at one point reached down with his own hands and tried to move Garrett's upward. Already the sweet innocent had sensed the truth: somehow it was his penis - his "thing" - that was desperate for attention, that "private place" was somehow the key. Jared's head ground into the man's chest, and he was continually writhing like a possessed animal. There were goosebumps on much of the boy's body, and he kept gasping as if he were oxygen starved. When he couldn't pull Garrett's hands to his crotch, he tried to twist and press his crotch against the man's firm body.
"Okay, sweetheart, okay," Garrett whispered in the boy's ear, and Jared felt the man's hands rise up along his legs and drift closer to his privates. "Oooo..." the boy squealed, and it surprised him, especially when he realized that it had come from him, and then he squealed again, when the man delicately brushed over his penis. Garrett's other hand drifted down and toyed with his tiny balls, and then the man began to do something Jared had heard the boys at school talk about by had never really tried on his own. Oh he had tried it a few times in the bath tub, but nothing really happened, and to tell the truth, it actually seemed sort of silly: rubbing on his thing. What was the big deal about that? And so, after a few up and down strokes, he had stopped. But now, it felt way different. Now it was a big deal. Garrett had taken his three-inch spear between his thumb and two fingers, and was slowly stroking him. "Ohh!" the boy gasped, and then going rigid, grunted with each stroke of the man's firm grip. Garrett was curious how much the boy's foreskin might retract, so as he stroked, he carefully tried to pull the loose skin downward. It came some, but then, when about three-quarters of the tiny head was exposed, he heard the boy grunt, and he stopped pulling back. The head was smooth and firm, a pure pink helmet that seemed to grow darker the longer his thing throbbed that way. Garrett thought it was delightful seeing it exposed, then covered, then exposed again, as Garrett began a faster pace.
The boy grunted and moaned, and "Ohh'd" with each stroke, each time, stiffening and lifting his butt, trying to force his boy-tool upward. The boy's responses, so unchecked, so free, so honest, were exciting to the man. And then a switch seemed to go off in the boy. "Oh God...Oh God...Ooaaagghhh..." he groaned. Garrett twisted his head slightly to gaze upon the child's face. It was contorted with overwhelming sensations, with even a little worry and fear at the unknown, at the thing that was about to happen to him, the thing that he knew had to happen, but which he couldn't begin to imagine or understand. When the boy experienced his first orgasm - which would be very soon - Garrett was sure it would be mind-blowing to the eleven-year-old. He stroked the three-inch penis even faster, and suddenly, with supreme effort, the boy's uncertainty overcame the sensations momentarily, and he grunted out, "What's happening! Something's happening! OH! OH! Garr...OH!" The waves of sensations were so alien to the boy, that along with the unmistakable excitement, Garrett could also now hear a kind of fear - fear of venturing into an alien universe.
As he reflected on the boy before him, Garrett recalled his own initiation into the mystery of sex. Suddenly, these parts of him that had been hidden all his life, that had been the cause of having his hands slapped - "Don't touch down there; it's not nice!" - that had been only known to him for one purpose - to rid himself of his body's waste - now suddenly was the source of the most unimaginable sensations. All the prohibitions had vanished. It was so strange, and it was frightening. His body was doing things, feeling things, that it had never done or felt before. He felt himself traveling down a path that was taking him into the unknown. He had to know what lay ahead, but it was also, at the same time unnerving.
Garrett smiled. He knew that the boy who lay on him in desperate need was feeling exactly the same things that he had. What he needed now was what his own mentor had given him in this very same moment - love, and gentleness, and understanding. Garrett felt ready to burst with emotion. He was the one introducing this boy to the secret mystery of life; he was charged with being sure the boy moved along his journey in safety and satisfaction. He was the master chef who would prepare an exquisite meal to satisfy the boy's desperate hunger.
"Good boy, my love. Shhhhh..." Garrett whispered as he slowed his pace. "Good boy. It's supposed to be like this. It's okay. You're doing great. Just let it happen." He continued to stroke the boy, but at a slower pace. "Are you okay?"
The boy nodded. "What, Garrett? What's going to happen?"
"Something unbelievable. Like nothing you've ever felt before. It's incredible when it happens. You'll see. Tell me how you feel."
"Like something's going to burst inside me. Ohh..." Jared sounded worried, as if something was wrong."
"Don't be afraid. I know it feels that way...that's how it's supposed to feel. You'll be okay. Trust your body. Just let it happen. You're such a good boy."
"I...I...think I'm gonna pee." Jared gasped.
"It maybe feels like that at first - for the first few times - but then...oh, Jared honey, you're such a good boy. So beautiful...I can't believe we're doing this." Garrett increased his pace once more, and again, the boy squealed like a child on a carnvial ride. Then when Garrett's hand went even faster, Jared sucked in a huge breath and held it. The boy's toenails dug into Garretts legs, and he seemed to stiffen impossibly, his body arching upward, his crotch lifting off the man's penis. A monstrous tremor hit, centered, predictably, in his penis. Then a series of smaller, quicker tremors pulsed out away from his crotch, and his body jerked four, five, six times, then quickly, his bottom collapsed back down onto Garrett. Jared grabbed the hand that had driven him to such wild abandon and held it firmly. Any more somehow would be painful. The boy gasped for breath, and his sideburns were darker with sweat. He cried now, cried real tears of utter release. Later, when Garrett asked him about it, he would deny he had, for the boy was on another plane of existence at this point - a place he'd never been before, a place he did not even know existed. With the greatest effort, he rolled over, and grasped the man's body tightly. "There, there," Garrett whispered into the boy's ear and patting his matted hair with one hand, caressing his smooth, sweat-glistening bottom with the other. "Good boy, you did so good, Jared. It's all over for now, sweetheart. It's okay. Just rest. You'll be okay. Just rest. You're my good boy." The last conscious thought Jared had was how nice the man's hand felt on his bottom.
They lay there for the longest while, Garrett marveling at how quickly the boy's breathing returned to normal, feeling his warm breath on his chest. He stroked the boy's hair, then his back, heaving up and down, and finally, with just his thumbs, he caressed the edges of that sweet little butt, a butt that had lost much of its tension, and was almost baby-like in its softness. In his daze, Jared wondered why he should be so tired. He didn't know why, but he knew he was. Tell the man how awesome it was, his mind told him, but he couldn't even muster the strength to do that. Instead, he simply sighed a long, slow sigh and a hint of smile stretched his lips upward at the corners.
Garrett smiled, too. Life couldn't get any better. He drew in a long, slow breath, and then thought of all the things waiting for the two of them. He smiled again. Life could get better, and very soon, he hoped, it would.
After a few minutes, ten or so, the boy stirred. It wasn't that he was asleep. He was just entranced - mesmerized - in a daze. He was the epitome of the fourth stage of sex: the resolution phase. The boy was completely relaxed, completely at ease, completely sated. He was complete. Fulfilled. Whole. He was limp - every part of him! He breathed in long, slow breaths. The hint of his smile grew into a full-fledged grin. It was clear to Garrett that the child had no idea what an orgasm was, and now, suddenly, he'd experienced his very first. The man was honored - humbled - to have given him this first life-changing sexual experience. Garrett knew that very often with young boys, despite how wonderful the sex made them feel, guilt would follow. He didn't want this sweet boy who was nestled in his lap to feel even a twinge of guilt. He wanted him to bask in the afterglow, and only want more. Jared, he knew, would have many questions. He was a bright boy, and inquisitive. He was driven to understand things, and this clearly would be something he wanted to understand completely - as completely as anyone could.
Jared stretched as a little puppy would and drew in a deep breath. He sighed, and snuggled into the firm body beneath him, as if unaware of where he was. Finally, his dreamy doe-eyes seemed to focus and he twisted his head up to gaze at the face of the man who had made him feel like he'd never felt before. He smiled. Even then, he didn't seem to feel the need to say anything. Instead, he simply ran his soft, small hand over his friend's hip. Then he seemed to sense something, and slowed, then stopped his caress. He looked almost perplexed as he wriggled his little butt slightly, almost as if he were trying to feel something. Then he spread his legs slightly and moved his hand down between them and felt for, then found Garrett's soft penis.
"He's soft," the boy said quietly.
"Mm," Garrett replied. "It gets that way, though not when I'm around you, usually." Both of them grinned. "I'm not the only one, am I?"
The boy shifted his gaze downward. His little tool was hardly more than a nubbin now, perhaps not quite an inch in length - including the little flap of skin that covered his glans. "You could make it hard again, I bet," the boy said with a coy smile. This was virgin territory for him - in the truest sense of the word - but it was clear he was pleased with his discovery of this new frontier.
"Scoot around, honey," Garrett said.
The boy looked at him oddly for an instant and blushed.
"What?" the man asked.
"You called me honey," the boy said. He grinned, deciding, apparently, that he liked it. He spun around on the man's pubis, pivoting his butt on the man's padded pubic bone. His legs stretched out under the man's arms. Garrett raised his knees, creating a place for Jared to lean against.
"I did. Is it okay?"
The eleven-year-old blushed. "Yeah," he whispered.
Garrett's eyes drifted down over the exquisite body. His gaze came to rest on the now shielded head of the boy's little tool. "I tried to pull your foreskin back. Did I hurt you?"
"My what?"
"Foreskin. That loose skin over the tip of your penis." The boy nodded. "Only it's not so loose."
"It hurt one time, a little bit, when you did something."
Garrett reached down and gently took the little bit of flesh that he now felt was his as much as its owner's.
He retracted the foreskin as much as he dared.
"Ahhhh," Jared breathed.
"Hurts?"
"Kind of," Jared said seriously.
"Sometimes boys' foreskins are kind of attached to their penises. When they get older, they can pull their foreskins all the way back."
"But I can't," Jared said matter-of-factly.
"No, but if you work at it regularly, pulling it back - gently - you'll loosen those adhesions. You just have to keep at it."
"Why?"
"So we can expose your glans...the tip part. When we're having sex, it can feel pretty awesome."
The boy blushed. "We're gonna have sex?"
"Well...Jared, we just did. One of us did, for sure!" Garrett's eyes sparkled and he flashed Jared a knowing grin.
"It...um...Garrett, it was so awesome! That was sex?" Jared blushed again.
Garrett smiled. "If it wasn't then I don't know what is. And I *know* it was awesome, Jared. I could tell."
"What happened? I mean, why did I feel like that?"
Garrett's smile stretched. "Because we had sex. I helped you have an orgasm. Have you ever heard that word before?"
"In health class," Jared said. "Orgasm...Kids can really have sex?" Then as the reality of what they'd done sunk in: "We did sex?"
"Absolutely. Jared, honey, when two people do the things we were doing, it makes their bodies react in a special way. When someone plays with your penis - and other parts of your body, too - it gets you excited in a very special, very sexy way - aroused, we say - and then it keeps building up..."
"Like an explosion," the boy interrupted.
"Exactly, and then your body is ready for release...and you have an orgasm. And then you sort of go into a resting stage where everything calms down."
Jared lay there on the man as Garrett ran his thumbs back and forth along the boy's silky-smooth hips. "That was sex!"
"One kind of sex, anyway."
"In school they said sex was when a man puts his thing in a woman and they make a baby."
"Well, that's another way to have sex, too. But it's not the only way."
"They said sperm stuff comes out of the man's thing. Did I get sperms?"
Garrett smiled at the boy's intensity. "No, Jared, didn't the teacher say a boy had to be getting bigger before he could make sperm?"
The boy blushed lightly and shrugged. "I guess. You mean I'm not old enough?"
"To make sperm? No, but to have sex? Absolutely!"
The boy beamed. "Garrett, I um..." He grew uncertain and spoke in whispered confidentiality. "I like sex."
The man chuckled at the boy's simple honesty. "Yeah, I thought maybe you did." Garrett raised his hand up off the boy's hip and tickled him under the arm.
The boy squealed gaily, and squirmed backward. Garrett dropped his knees, and Jared pushed back, coming to sit on the man's thighs. Then he again grew more serious. "Can we do it again!"
Garrett put on a serious, stern look. "Oh, no. Only once. That's all that's permitted: once per lifetime. Sorry."
The boy looked like he'd been shot - almost sad enough that Garrett suddenly felt horrible for kidding the boy - but then Jared understood and fought to keep back his grin. He couldn't do anything about his sparkling eyes, though. "So when did you use your one time up?" The boy blushed, not yet quite comfortable talking to a grownup about such things.
Garrett grinned back at him. "I'm a very lucky guy...b'cause I haven't used mine yet. I've been saving it for someone very special."
Jared grinned at the silliness of that idea, then, as the implications of that settled in on him, he grew again serious.
"Well, what's that look for?"
"That means..." Jared shot a look down at Garrett's crotch, then shyly back up to the man. "Do you want to...like now?"
"With you, Jared, anytime."
The eleven-year-old blushed and smiled. He reached down and deliberately - and boldly - brushed against Garrett's tool. The conversation alone had begun to bring life to the quarterback's manhood, but now with that touch, it rolled to the side, filling with blood, then swelled and began to lift. The boy watched fascinated. Garrett stroked the boy's deliciously smooth back. "What do I do?" the boy asked.
"Just what I did to you," Garrett answered quietly.
The boy suddenly switched around so he was crouching over Garrett's belly, one knee on either side of Garrett's torso. He lowered himself the way a small boy might examine a mystery found in a meadow. It was as if he were clinically examining the man's rising manhood. It was hard for the man to see exactly what Jared doing because of his position, but he had no trouble seeing the child's delightful, tight little bottom which hovered just inches in front of his eyes. Now Garrett felt a small, warm hand grasp his penis. It made him sigh. "Oh yes," he breathed. A few halting strokes by the boy finished the man's reawakening. He was as hard as he'd even been in his life. A shudder passed through him.
"You liked that, huh?" the boy said softly, still boyishly shy, but already showing signs of becoming more comfortable with man-boy love.
"I did," Garrett responded.
Jared twisted around and grinned back at his friend. Then the grin faded and the boy showed a look of alarm. "I'm...sorry..."
"Why?"
"My..." He reddened. "...you know...my butt's right in your face."
Garrett reached out and caressed the exquisite softness of the boy's bottom. "I love your bottom," he whispered, and leaned in and kissed the perfection that wavered before him. Jared reddened, and under his lips, Garrett felt the muscles in the epitome of boy butt tighten. He savored the warmth and the unblemished smoothness. It made his head reel. Oh, God how he loved this boy. From the moment he'd first seen him, he'd loved him. He'd lie awake nights worried that his advances would be rebuffed, and now that they had not been, it was as if he were in a dream. He felt Jared's hand haltingly clutch at his steel-hard cock, and another shiver passed through his body.
The boy, seeing the man's devotion to his butt - as strange as that seemed - relaxed some and turned his gaze back on the man's penis. There was now a thought in his head - a thought that had first been there a year ago. It would appear every now and then, and each time, it made the eleven-year-old shiver with uncertainty. It was a nasty thing, the object of nasty laughter by the boys at school, but each time he heard some boy whisper about it, it seemed to draw him like a moth to a flame. When he was all alone, he even found himself imagining himself doing it, but he wasn't quite sure how. Heck, he didn't even know if people really did that. Now, with Garrett's cock just inches from his face, maybe at last he'd get to find out...but what if the man thought it was just as dirty as his friends...what if he ruined everything? What to do?
Jared's attention was momentarily focused away from his imaginings. Garrett continued to play his wet, warm mouth over his bottom. It seemed to awaken the boy somehow. It made his little thing even harder. The boy realized he liked the way Garrett was making his bottom feel - even as strange as it was to have his lips and tongue back there. And then suddenly, the man ran his tongue down the outside of the crack that separated the two globes of boy-ass. "Oooo..." the boy squealed, and Garrett felt him press back against his mouth.
"And you sure liked that, didn't you, Jared?"
"Mm," the boy sighed.
Garrett leaned back and glanced down under the boy's butt. He reached between Jared's lithe, firm legs and grasped his tiny boyhood. It was as rigid as any boy-cock he'd ever felt. Admittedly there weren't that many, but this one was hard and straining to stretch beyond its physical limits.
Now the boy looked back at the man's big dick. It was so big! Compared to his, it was huge! The boy swallowed hard. In his most secret moments he'd tried to imagine what a man's thing would look like when it was...when it got the way his got when he thought about stuff like that. He shivered with excitement at what he was thinking. The big thing was hypnotising him like a swaying cobra. He couldn't look away from it, and it was pulling him to it to...to...to do something he only imagined in the dark of night in his bed as he tried to go to sleep. It was so forbidden, so nasty, he didn't even dare to think about it in daylight.
Garrett sensed something was different with the boy. At first, Jared had tugged on his penis a few delightful times - halting and softly - but now he just seemed frozen.
"Are you okay, Jared?" Garrett asked gently.
"Yeah," the boy answered, but Garrett could hear the uncertainty in his voice. The football star reached out and gently stroked the boy's bottom with his hand. "It's okay, sweetie," he whispered. "It's okay."
"Garrett?"
"Yes, Jared," Garrett responded.
In these last few moments, Jared thought he figured out a way to raise the subject with the without risking too much. He twisted his head to look at Garrett. "Um...what's...um...a cocksucker?"
A tremor - a jolt of electricity - surged through Garrett. He smiled. "Have you heard boys at school talking about cocksuckers?"
"Yes," the eleven-year-old said softly.
"I think you know what it means, Jared. It's alright, don't be afraid."
"It means...like putting a man's thing in your mouth."
"There, Jared, that wasn't so hard, was it? I like it when you just say what's on your mind. That's exactly what it means. It's very nice when someone wants to do that to someone else."
"It is?" the boy asked, his face flushed.
"It makes your lover feel awesome." Garrett stroked the boy's firm, warm butt. He could see the doubt in the boy's face. "Really, Jared, it feels incredible. Is that something you'd like to try?"
The boy blushed. It felt as if an arrow shot through his heart. Yes! Yes, he wanted to try that! How did the man know? He studied his grownup friend. He didn't look angry or disgusted at all. He looked almost excited. Slowly, Jared felt himself nodding yes. "But, I don't know how," he said simply.
"I think you'll do great," Garrett encouraged. "Just a few things: be careful with your teeth." The boy thought for a second, then realizing the potential problems, grinned and blushed. "Then," the man continued, "don't try to take too much of my penis in your mouth. If you're not used to it, and you try to take too much of it, when it pokes into your throat, you might gag a little. Okay?"
The boy nodded. "Do you...you know...want me to?" Garrett could see that Jared still wasn't sure about this, but he could also see the boy was virtually vibrating with excitement at the very idea of lowering his mouth onto the man's massive tool.
Garrett smiled reassuringly. "Only if you want to, Jared, but if you do, it would make me very, very happy."
"It would?"
"Yes, Jared. I'd love to feel your kisses on my penis, and then your tongue, and then slipping my penis inside your mouth, and feeling you suck on it the way you do with a popsicle."
He gazed into the boy's eyes. His words and his look made the child blush. (Some of that blush was no doubt caused by the boy's own visualization of what he was about to do.)
The boy turned back to face the man's penis. A shiver of anticipation passed through him. He swallowed, licked his lips, and bit his lower lip, then slowly opened his mouth and his eyes. His heart was pounding. Ever since he'd first heard about cocksucking, he'd imagined actually doing it.
One day when he was wrestling with his buddies, they'd bent his legs up over his head. He was almost doubled in two. Everybody thought it was really funny - except Jared, of course, though even he was a little surprised that his body could bend that much. It was then that he got an idea, and later that night, he tried it.
He stripped completely. Standing before the mirror in his room, he looked at his body carefully. His little penis was lifting with each pulse of his heart until it pointed up at his chin. He was very serious - and very excited. He lay down on his rug, and brought his legs up over his head, but he quickly realized he couldn't get enough leverage. He moved the rug next to the wall, and lay down again. This time he sort of stood on his head, leaning his back against the wall, then swiveling his neck and tucking his chin into his chest, he let his legs fall over his head and his back bend into a tight curl. His eyes almost crossed as he stared down at the tip of his little prick. He pulled down on the butt with his hands. The little two and a half inch penis was just a fraction of an inch from his mouth. He extended his tongue and pulled harder, trying with all his might to get his penis just a little closer. He pulled hard once more, just enough so his tongue swiped across his little tip which was barely poking through his foreskin. A massive shudder passed through him when his tongue touched his cockhead, but his body's reaction also made his muscles spasm, and suddenly the pleasure centered in his cock turned to pain in a muscle in his back. He almost cried as he unwrapped his body, but finally he managed to do it, and very carefully, he climbed into bed. Still as he lay there, he thrilled at the feeling that little bit of contact had given him.
Now, as Garrett's penis held him mesmerized, those same feelings began to rise again.
"Just as much as you want," Garrett breathed, hardly daring to hope. Slowly Jared lowered his mouth. "Kiss it," Garrett whispered. At the first touch of his warm, soft lips to the head of Garrett's penis, the man gasped. For the boy, he could not remember ever feeling anything so velvety against his lips. It was as if a jolt of electricity surged through his body at that moment, and somehow all his inhibitions faded. He knew he had to go further. He closed his eyes and breathed shakily in through his nose as he opened his mouth. Jared raised up and dropped his head down, stretching his mouth a wide open as he could. This was the moment. Would he be able to really do it! He was afraid, and yet he knew he had to do this. He'd wanted to do this with a man's big thing, but now that he was with Garrett, it was perfect!
Jared lowered his head and felt his lips touch down on the soft, warm velvety surface once more. He extended his tongue and found the man's slit. Garrett groaned outloud. Jared suddenly sensed that there was something there, right at that opening. It was almost sweet tasting - that's how he knew it was there at all. He couldn't feel it; but he could taste it. Now the boy felt two large hands settle over his head. Slowly, they guided his head lower. The knob filled his mouth. Jared was so excited, but he could only breathe through his nose, because the big, smooth, soft, hard, hot thing filled his wet, hungry mouth. His breathing was rapid and ragged. "You're doing great. You're making me feel awesome," Garrett said softly. "Your mouth feel so good." The man knew before too many days passed, what the boy would do to him would be much better, but even now, the quivering, wet, hot virgin cavern of the boy was driving him wild. The boy, even without understanding what he was doing, played his tongue over the man's head. Even if the boy did nothing else, that would be enough to send Garrett over the edge.
Garrett gently eased his penis deeper into the boy's hungry mouth. "Ooohh...good boy. Slide up and down on it."
Jared awkwardly at first began to slowly mouth fuck his hero. The man's groans and sighs let the boy know how much he was enjoying what Jared was doing to him. Indeed, the man knew he was rapidly approaching his climax. "Jared, honey," he mumbled with effort. "Jared." He actually had to pull the boy away from his task. "Jared." At last the boy looked up. The child was concerned. Why did the man want him to stop? "Jared, remember we said a man makes sperm?"
The boy nodded. "Are you going to sperm?"
The man smiled and nodded. "I am. You suck cock so good that I'm just about ready to shoot my sperm."
Now the boy seemed to understand. His eyes grew. "It would go into my mouth, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, unless you didn't want it to. I could pull out, and you could finish me off by hand like I did to you."
"Is it bad to have it come out in your mouth?"
"No, not really, but some people don't like it."
"What's it taste like?"
"Sperm." Garrett smiled. "It's sort of salty and bitter."
"If it comes in my mouth, do I spit it out?"
"If you want. It's okay to swallow it."
"It is!"
"If you want to. It won't hurt you or anything."
"Can I try?"
"Of course. It would make me very happy." Greedily, the boy lowered himself back down on the man's huge, mouth-filling penis. "Try to suck harder...like a vacuum..." Jared sucked until his cheeks caved in a little. "Feel my balls," Garrett managed to whisper. With one hand, Jared steadied the big penis; with his other hand, he reached down past the man's tool and squeezed the two egg-sized balls underneath. "Oooo, Jared, honey, you're sooo awesommmme..." And he was. The little boy was working hard. "Good boy," Garrett moaned. He could hear Jared almost snorting as he sucked in sharp breaths through his nose. The feeling was electrifying, and all too soon, Garrett was ready. "I'm...close...honey..." Garrett felt his balls ready themselves, the the thick tube in the underpart of his cock expand. He spoke in a husky voice. "It's going...to...come...it's... Augghhhh..."
The quarterback stiffened all over in a convulsion of sexual tension. The boy felt the thing in his mouth grow even stiffer and bigger. And then a massive, hot blast of something thick and gooey and hot was suddenly filling his mouth. It was salty, and it made his eyes water, yet he tried to swallow it. But another shot was already adding even more of the slimy substance. Then another. How long will it do it, the panicky boy wondered. How much of the stuff would the man deposit in him? Garrett all this time was moaning almost like he was in agony.
Jared would have stopped his sucking action on the man's thing if it hadn't been for the breathy exhortations from the man: "Oh yes...do it...fuck...yes...Oh God, Jared, yes...what a good boy." Whatever was happening to the man at some level the boy knew he was the cause of it, and so he continued to suck away...proud of what he'd done for the man he loved - yes, that's right, loved. Finally, when he didn't think he could swallow any more, the man grapsed his sweet head and held it firmly. "Okay," the man hissed, barely able to catch his breath. "Okay, sweetie. Oh God, Jared, that was awesome. Incredible." He lifted the boy off him and Jared stared down at the already-softening penis. It was slick with saliva - his saliva - and that pearly-white stuff that had to have come out of the man's penis and had filled his mouth - his sperms. Some of it still oozed out of Garrett's huge thing, and Jared could still taste it. Yet he had no thought of rinsing his mouth, nothing like that. He was just overwhelmed that he had done this to his man. He - Jared Daniels - had done something incredible.
As the man's tool continued to soften, more of the goo oozed out. It had a strong smell, and Jared marvelled that he'd actually had it in his mouth and had swallowed it - a lot of it. Now his man seemed almost weak, but somehow Jared even understood that. The boy patted the man's thigh and waited.
A half-formed thought floated through the man's brain. He should do what he had intended to do to the eleven-year-old before the boy started to work on him. Garrett thought he'd play his mouth and tongue over every square centimeter of the boy's ass. He'd work deep into his furrow, and then with his tongue open the boy to impossible-to-imagine pleasures. But once the boy started to suck him off, he was paralyzed. There was nothing to do but let the boy have his way. He was at the boy's mercy, and that was the way he wanted it. He was the boy's, and the boy was his. They both knew it, they both wanted it, they both suddenly feared that moment when they would have to part, even if for a little while.
Jared twisted around and looked back at Garrett. "Do you want to rest a little while?" the boy asked.
Garrett smiled at the boy's desire - need - to serve his man. It was only what lovers felt compelled to do for each other. "Yeah," Garrett said. "For a little while anyway."
Jared sighed, and then suddenly seemed unsure what to do. "Hey," Garrett said gently, and he grasped the boy's torso, turned him around and helped him to stretch out on top of his body. His little penis nestled into his navel, and Garrett's cock found the space between the boy's legs. His silky hair pressed up against Garrett's neck and chin. Garrett let his hands lazily drift up and down the boy's back and bottom. Jared sighed at the man's gentle touch, and the man sighed at such contentment as he hadn't felt in years. As they lay there, the sun warmed their bodies, creating a sheen of sweat, but the soft breeze flowing across the pool deck cooled them. Eventually, Garrett's fingers stopped straying from the compact, gloriously smooth bottom that seemed to contain all the warmth of the sun. He let his hand glide lightly over the muscled outcroppings of boy-butt, drawing another sigh of utter contentment from Jared. He, like Garrett, was totally relaxed. Gradually, Garrett's hand cupped more to allow his fingers first to trace along the boy's furrow, and then ever so gently dip deeper and deeper between the boy's two sweet cheeks. He was careful not to go too deep. He wanted the contact to be sensuous, not sexual. He would reserve that for later. For now, he simply wanted to flood his senses with the boy, and Jared seemed to understand, for rather than tensing at what must have been a new sensation, he instead grew even more relaxed under the man's gentle stroking.
"D'you want to go for that swim?"
Garrett felt the boy shrug. "Okay...if you do."
They swam for fifteen minutes or so, touching each other playfully, continuing their explorations of each other.
"I've never done this before," Jared said at one point when they were close to each other.
"Done what?"
"Gone swimming...like...naked."
Garrett smiled. "Do you like it?" He reached down and tweaked the boy's shriveled member.
Jared blushed and giggled. "I like that."
When the boy's teeth began to chatter, Garrett suggested they climb out and dry off. He toweled Jared off, then wrapped the towel around both of them, and laid back down. The eleven-year-old snuggled down against the man's firm body, and sighed a great sigh. For a long time, he just lay there, listening to Garrett breathe, feeling his body lifting with each breath.
"Jared, does it seem okay to be this way together?"
"You mean like naked...an'...doing stuff?"
Garrett smiled. "Yes, exactly."
"Maybe at first...I felt...you know...a little..."
"Tell me, sweetie."
"I was afraid you wouldn't want to...do stuff." The boy paused, looking suddenly unsure.
"Jared, you can tell me anything."
"I know." Garrett felt the boy press his head against his chest. "I was afraid you would think I'm bad."
"Never, Jared. You know what's kind of funny?"
"What?" the boy whispered.
"I was kind of afraid that you'd think I was bad."
"You! No way! I like it when you did that thing to me."
"Me too."
They settled into another long silence, and then finally, the boy spoke.
"Garrett, why do I feel this way?"
"What way?"
"I dunno...just...nice...touching like this...not just with hands - with...you know...everything...like now."
"I guess because when two people feel about each other the way we do...we want to be close...to touch. It's sort of like our bodies just want to become one...and it is nice...isn't it."
"Mm," the boy sighed. "But...we're two...guys."
"That's right. Does that make any difference?"
Now Garrett felt the boy stiffen slightly. "Does that mean I'm gay?"
The man knew this could be dangerous territory. "Hmm...I don't really know, Jared...but what I do know it that I don't care whether you are or whether you aren't. Like you said, it's just nice doing what we're doing, isn't it?"
The boy listened to the man's words, but he could also feel his soft, low tones coming from the man's chest into his own. "Kids say mean things about gays."
"I know, sweetie, but, right now...you're with me. Right now...does it make any difference?"
Jared thought about that. "No," he said flatly.
"It feels just about perfect, right now, with you and me...together in this special way...don't you think?"
The boy thought for a moment longer, then smiled. He'd never felt like this before. "Yeah," he whispered. "It feels awesome."
Garrett moved a bit and whispered in the boy's ear, "I think so, too."
Again they lay there for a long time, and again, Jared broke the silence. "We can't tell anyone, can we."
"No, we can't."
"We'd get in trouble."
"Well I would, that's for sure. I'd go to prison for a long time."
"Why?"
"Because the law says what we're doing is wrong."
The boy felt into a thought-filled silence before speaking again. "How can it be wrong when two people love each other?"
Garrett's eyes filled, and a tear spilled down his cheek. He leaned down and kissed the boy on the head. "I don't know, Jared. I just know we have to be very careful now...my love." He kissed the boy's soft hair again. Jared lifted his head, and gazed at the man's mouth. He ran his sweet tongue over his delicious lips. Garrett knew what he wanted. The man lifted the boy's chin with two fingers, bent down and lightly kissed the boy on his lips. His lips were soft and warm and wet and at first they were unmoving except for the slightest trembling. Garrett lifted away and gazed at the boy. His eyes were closed, but then they opened. "You can kiss me back, you know." He smiled gently, then leaned back in. He could feel the boy's soft, warm breath on his upper lip. Garrett kissed him again, pressing in more this time.
Eventually, Jared responded. Garrett moved his lips over the boy's face, kissing him ever more firmly. The boy twisted his head, and captured his man's lips with his own. He moaned softly, and then felt Garrett's tongue stroking side-to-side, pressing between his lips even as the man's fingers were pressing into his butt-crack. For an instant, he wondered again what it was about his butt that made Garrett want to do that. It seemed dirty, but at the same time, it felt nice in a way he couldn't explain. It was only a fleeting thought, because then the man's tongue pressing into his mouth made him forget about the feelings at his bottom.
As their kissing grew more passionate - as Garrett nibbled on the boy's lips and let his tongue explore past the boy's lips, inside the boy's teeth, touching tentatively his soft tongue, then teasing it until the boy dared to imitate the man's actions and entwine his tongue with the man's and let it follow the man into his warm, wet cavern - Garrett felt the boy begin to harden again. There were the other signs of arousal as well: the faster, shallower breathing, the pocked skin, the tremors that periodically moved in waves across the child's body, the slightest sweaty gloss over parts of his nude form.
Garrett had already decided what he wanted to do next. Their time together was rapidly coming to a close; before long he'd have to get the boy home, but Garrett wanted to introduce his boy to two more experiences before they had to leave, but then it was as if the boy read his thoughts.
"Can we do it again? You know...the sex?" the boy said boldly - as boldly as he could while blushing.
Garrett ran his hand down over the boy's bottom. It flexed beneath his caress.
"Why do you like to touch my butt?" Jared's voice was as soft and warm as the skin under Garrett's hand. It had a dreamlike, dazed quality that suggested he enjoyed the stroking as much as the man.
"Because it's so...firm...and silky smooth...and warm...and...so you!" Garrett let his finger suddenly dip deeper into the boy's divide as his hand moved over that incredible terrain, and the boy sucked in a slow breath and held it. He stiffened. "Do you like the way I'm touching you?" Garrett asked.
"Yes..." the boy whispered. "...A lot...but it's so weird." He laid his head down on the Garrett's chest and he felt the boy's eye lashesd flutter against his skin. Instantly, his manhood pulsed harder.
Garrett smiled. "I thought you did. That makes me want to try something else. Would you like to?"
"What?" the little boy asked, genuinely curious.
"Let's let it be a surprise." Now Garrett scooped him up in one motion and carried him, legs wrapped round his waist, arms clasped around his neck. In just a few moments, they were in Garrett's bedroom, and Jared twisted around to gaze down at the massive oversized bed. Carefully, as if laying a baby in a crib, Garrett lay the lithe, naked form - that sweet, perfect torso heaving with each breath - onto the white sheets of the bed.
He stepped to his bedside table and got a tube of KY.
"What's that?" Jared asked. Garrett smiled. The boy didn't miss a trick.
"It's to make you slippery." Garrett could see a look of confusion flood over the child. "Back there," the man said, reaching down and lovingly stroking the side of the sweetest boy-butt he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Why?" the sweet innocent voice asked.
"Can I show you? I think it will make you feel nice an' sexy."
The boy was silent for a moment, but just a moment, and then he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said softly, the word catching in his throat.
Garrett opened the tube of lubricant and placed it on the bed. Then he laid down so he could prop his head and shoulders up against a couple of pillows. "Now, Jared," he said gently, "you did such a great job sucking my penis. How'd you like to have your penis sucked?"
The boy nodded, eyes widening. "Yes!"
"Okay, then..." Garrett grasped the boy by the hips and guided him to a crouching position, one leg on either side of Garrett's torso. He aimed his little boy-tool toward his hot, waiting mouth. The quarterback's heart was pounding. He shook with nervous excitement. Slowly the boy leaned into the man's face. Instinctively, he seemed to position himself to align with the waiting lips. The rigid, little tool glistened with silky hardness, the tiny head poking through the protective collar of tight skin. Garrett wet his lips. He held the boy, stopping his forward movement. Garrett breathed in the essense of the boy, savoring the warm, sweet aroma. He moved the boy closer, nuzzling his pubis, and that special place - the boundary between tummy and leg. It was like the man was almost grazing over those places, and it was driving the boy wild. The eleven-year-old didn't understand it - how such a simple touch of the man's lips on those parts of him could make his tremble all over - he just knew he wanted him to keep doing it.
Now Garrett extended his tongue and drew it over the boy's scrotum and the treasure it contained. He sucked as if two grapes rested at his lips, and the two orbs which held the boy's future manhood, plopped into his mouth. Jared gasped, and suddenly held himself very still. It was almost as if he knew with one bite, he'd never be able to fulfill his God-given role assigned specifically to him, the man-cub. And yet the sucking, the warmth, the stretching, the pressure, the nibbles - it all made him want to squeal. And he did, softly, almost shyly, but he left no doubt that he was experiencing sensations that were new and exotic - and exquisite!
The boy pressed himself against the man, desparately trying to get the man to take his aching cocklet inside his mouth. Garrett felt the boy's hands take hold of his face, and the man lifted his eyes upward. Jared wore a look of concentration, and pure, lustful need. He panted, sounding maybe even a bit frustrated. Garrett's eyes sparkled. Had his mouth been less occupied, he would have smiled. He was only too aware of how a little frustration could add to a sexual experience, but he didn't want his partner's frustration to grow to a point where it got in the way.
Garrett eased the two grape-sized eggs from his hungry mouth, stretching the small, tight sac that held them within its limits. Finally, they popped free, and immediately, Garrett licked the underside of the boyish spike on its underside, causing its owner to shiver and groan softly. It was too much for Jared, and quite impulsively, he reached out for his boyhood and forced it downward, bringing its hidden head to his man's lips. "Please," came a whispered groan from the boy's mouth. Garrett poked the tip of his tongue out through his lips to find the tiny slit at the tip of the baby-finger-sized tool. A louder groan came from the boy, and he pressed his penis into the man's yielding lips. The tightness of Garrett's lips had the effect of retracting the boy's foreskin - as much as was possible anyway - and also of dragging yet another low moan from the child. Garrett felt the little boy-tool flex as it slid deeper into his hot and hungry maw. The man sucked down hard, drawing the boy all the way in, and felt his lips press against the softest of skin above the boy's penis, and the softly wrinkled skin of the tiny sac below. Now the eleven-year-old gasped, and Garrett felt two small hands squeeze his head to prevent any escape. Garrett's tongue worked - curled - over every bit of the tasty, warm morsel that his sucking mouth held captive. With each stroke of his velvety organ of taste, he felt his boy's penis flex and try to harden even more. Now Garrett eased the boy's hips back, and for the first time in his young life, the child began to experience the movement of true sex. Just before the tiny head escaped its warm sanctuary, Garrett gripped it with his lips, tweaked the head with his tongue, then eased the boy back in, swirling the length of the three-inch rod with his needy tongue. Again, the boy shivered violently, and a groan tore from deep inside him.
Now Garrett's hands drifted down over the silky-smooth bottom of the boy, and his eyes flickered shut. As if impelled by nature, the boy kept the rhythm of sex going, if inexpertly, but from his unending groans, it was clear, despite his novitiate status, it was wildly stimulating. Garrett reached down, opened the tube of KY and spread a copious amount on his fingers. His other hand returned to the boy's bobbing butt, and he stroked it lovingly. For just an instant, Garrett released the boy's tool, and whispered. "Just try to relax, Jared. Back there, you know. It'll feel a little better if you can." With the hand that had been caressing the boy's bottom, Garrett used his fingers to spread the boy's cheeks.
Jared seemed to understand that he was about to experience something new, and he approached it with a mix of anticipation and concern. What was there back there that interested Garrett so? Wasn't it dirty? He knew his front had to do with sex stuff, but what did his bottom have to do with sex? Why did it need to be slippery? He wasn't even sure what needed to be slippery? What was going to happen? Would it be like Garrett said - would it make him excited - would he get the feeling - that incredible feeling that made him feel like he was going to explode!
Now Garrett sucked the boy back into him. He lowered his lube-laden hand to the boy's crack. When the cool gel hit, the boy sucked in a sharp breath. "Iss cold," he breathed.
"Mm," hummed the man without releasing the small boy-tool from his mouth. Garrett's aim had been off a bit, and now he drew his fingers down slightly, pressing in. He struck his goal - a tiny, muscled pucker, remarkably smooth and inviting. The man wondered what his lover would be feeling now - how he would react to what he was about to experience. Garrett let his finger settle onto the swirl that marked the boy's secret entrance and felt the boy stiffen. He smiled.
Every boy lover in history - every one lucky enough to be in this situation - had no doubt urged the boy with the same exhortation: "relax." And every boy in this situation reflexively did just the opposite; it couldn't be helped - a boy simply had no choice. It wouldn't be until later, when finally the child trained his body to open itself, that he would be able to follow the man's advice. Jared was no different. But Garrett knew he only had to wait. A boy lover was not a true boy lover unless he was patient - at least with novices, and Jared was certainly that. And Garret was a true boy lover, had been from his own youth, perhaps even from his birth.
Garrett made the slightest movements - it could hardly be called a circular motion - rather it was the lightest of pressures with an ever increasing inward intent. The boy's whole body had stiffened, and he seemed to be holding his breath. Now the man just rested his probing digit and waited for what he knew would eventually come to pass. Nor was he disappointed, for within perhaps forty seconds, after spasms of tightening, Garrett felt the boy's anus not open so much as relent. Garrett seized the moment and plunged his finger in through the boy's relaxed defenses. The boy gasped and stiffened again, the outer anal ring clamping down on the tip of the man's finger. A little "Oh!" slipped from the boy's mouth. Garrett's decisive action had only lodged his finger up to the nail. But that was enough for the moment. For Jared's part, this was a completely new sensation, and he grunted at the momentary discomfort born more out of emotional uncertainty than anything physical. Garrrett (and the boy, too, if he thought about it) knew the feeling was more than discomfort; there was also something else, something that made the boy's rigid penis flex. The boy felt Garrett twist his finger, which caused him to whimper again and suck in a sharp breath.
The man released the boy's tool and asked a question he already knew the answer to. "Is it okay, Jared?"
The boy grunted a breathy "Yeah". Jared wanted to ask why, but more than understand, he simply, desperately wanted to feel.
Even with the slightest movement at the boy's hole, there was a reaction. It created a great need for immediate attention. "Suck me, Garrett. Please," the boy whined, and the man obliged. Garrett wondered how long it would take for the boy's tight chute to grow accustomed to the presence of his finger. Minutes? Certainly. Longer? He hoped not. But a thrill surged through him as he realized the process of preparation had begun, a process that would eventually, he hoped, lead to what he dreamed about with the sweet boy. He was in every respect the sweetest, most innocent of children, but he was now a child who was discovering the secret pleasures usually denied to children. This boy, however, needed to know those pleasures; he had needed to know about them even before the man had come into his life. Jared knew - sensed - they existed, but until this day, they'd been shrouded, unseen, forbidden; they were taboo - and that societal disapproval could destroy the child and even condemn the adult which would emerge to a life of torment.
But Jared would not be denied what he now so desperately needed, and, like Garrett himself, would grow into a loving, caring, respected man, who in his time would perpetuate the ritual. Jared's first boy, some twelve years from now, would be a boy who was not yet even born. He would be Jared's age, an eleven-year-old member of the soccer team he would coach. He would, as Garrett had just done for him, give the boy his first orgasm. It would happen in a hotel room at a tournament, and the boy - denied for his entire life the identity at his very core - would, like a poppy, blossom in that one climatic moment. Jared would fondle the boy's soft public hair and watch his four-inch tool throb with need. Later, in Jared's expert mouth, it would throb and expand, and a cry would tear from the boy, and - wonder of wonders - a thin spurt of juice would splash onto Jared's swirling tongue. But neither Garrett nor Jared could know that now. What the boy did know was simple, primitive, driven: he needed the man to do something do him to make these feelings explode into something more.
"Please," Jared urged again, pressing his boytool deeper into the man's mouth. For a while the man focused on the sweet morsel he held between his lips, but then eventually he did feel the tight ring of muscle ease around his finger, and he pressed into the boy's hot, juicy insides, gaining another half-inch before again, an audible grunt and a quivering asshole slowed his progress. His fingertip was now past the tight ring of resistance. Though the anal muscles clamped tightly around his finger, he was through its defenses, and he pressed deeper into the soft, tight, hot, tissues of the boy's hole.
Eventually, Garrett would probe, but he would intentionally avoid that place, which the boy knew nothing about, the place that when touched would cause the boy first to tremble, then stiffen, and finally leave his body and soar. He would exhaust every form of communication, all would be inadequate to express the feelings, save one: With every muscle and tendon straining in the boy's neck, he would lift his head and, thrusting it backward, would squeeze his eyes shut and open his mouth with only a single, pure soprano note escaping. It would be this note that would give testimony that he had glimpsed existence on another plane. And it would all happen within minutes. Garrett's heart pounded with the knowledge that he would cause this transcendence within the psyche of the boy, and it would set the boy on a quest for the consummation of their relationship, which in this moment - like so much about his sexual awakening - he could not know was awaiting him.
So the man plunged slowly into the virgin ass of the boy-god. He pressed gently, he pushed up and down and sideways, letting the boy know he could stretch. These were not violent movements, but rather the gentlest, designed simply to tease the boy, hinting at what more might be awaiting. Each time the boy would whimper, each time he'd stiffen, his body arcing as if an electric pulse were charging every fibre of muscle the boy possessed.
Then, when at last Garrett's finger was hilted deep within the hot, smooth chute, he began the slow withdrawal. The boy's anus clamped down hard, not wanting the thing that had been inititially unwelcome now to leave. Garrett felt a sublime satisfaction, knowing that the anus could never interrupt his movement into and out of the boy's rectum, but instead, any attempt to inhibit his finger's movement would only add to the sensations -- pins and needles at times, exquisite fullness at other times, a quivering aliveness still at other times. Now, with his finger almost completely withdrawn, Garrett paused, diddled the boy's anal ring mercilessly, and then plunged swiftly back into the boy's heat.
Jared groaned, and again stiffened. By the end of the day, he would be a tired little boy, tired, and sore, having used muscles he did not know even existed in his lithe body. And he would, while sitting with his parents and eating pizza, drift back to these moments and try desperately to reclaim the exquisite feelings that were flooding over him now. The feelings rippled out from his bottom, from that secret place, from inside him! Oh my God, he would think chewing on his mushroom pizza, I need that feeling again!
Now Garrett began a slow rhythm - the rhythm - as ancient as the nights on Olympus, even before. Garrett was Zeus to Jared's Ganymede. The two - the four, two living god's and the two ancient spirits - partaking of a ritual that would lead the youth's deflowering - a deflowering that the boy would willing seek, even demand, for once tasting of the forbidden fruit only hinted at now, there was only one way to sate the hunger. The man wondered when - if - the boy would realize something more than just a finger could give him pleasure in this way.
Another anal spasm refocused the man, and so Garrett again moved the single finger in and out, imperceptibly increasing his speed, but timing it with his relentless sucking of the boy's penis. Jared thrust his hips in an out, and Garrett matched his every move. The boy was ratcheting up his response. His second orgasm would soon hit, shattering him even beyond what the first had done. The eleven-year-old seemed to sense that, and with each thrust, he'd grunt. As Garrett continued to work him, their thrusting reached that point were both were on autopilot. The boy especially was simply allowing his body to do what nature seemed to impel it to do without thought from him. "Ohhhh...." he squealed, signalling his rapidly approaching climax. "Ohhh....ohhhh." And now with his finger rapidly plunging in and out, Garrett bent it upward ever-so-slightly. Because of the boy's wildly gyrating movements, it took him two or three tries, but then, he pressed, and slowed, hitting that immature orb, and immediately the boy felt the pressure. He gasped and moaned. "Oh, God," he cried. "Oh fuck!" Garrett knew the boy would never have said that under normal circumstances, but this was not a normal circumstance, and the boy was beyond rational thought. And then with each thrust, Garrett assaulted the boy's tiny prostate, and he knew the child would never again be the same. The boy was emitting strange gurgling noises now, his head almost spastically snapping in every direction. And then, "Ahhh....ahhh...ahhh...ahhh...iieeeeeeeeee!" That single, pure note signalling his orgasmic arrival. He stiffened impossibly, every inch of him as rigid as his little spear. His whole body became his penis - vibrating like the ground in the midst of an earthquake. He slammed his front hard against the man's face, crushing his nose in his soft, steamy pubis. Garrett's finger pressed firmly against that secret place deep inside the boy, keeping the boy in the throes of his wild response. Tremor after tremor surged across his body. And finally when his body was exhausted and could respond no more, when all he could offer was a soft whimper, Garrett cupped the boy's bottom with his finger still inserted deeply inside him. The boy first eased, then melted down collapsing onto the man. Garrett's strong hands held the boy, easing his fall. The boy's eyes were open but unfocused. Drool spilled from the corner of his mouth. His skin was slippery with sweat. His little tool, as it slipped from Garrett's mouth was shrivelled and a mere nubbin of flesh. A single sigh flowed from the boy seemingly forever, and then, collapsing onto the man who loved him, he lay unmoving.
Garrett smiled, completely satisfied. Never had a boy responded with such abandon. Never had the effect been so complete, so unrestrained. He slowly withdrew his finger. "Noooo," the boy moaned in his preconscious state. A soft fluttering of air escaped along with his finger. Garrett ran his hand over the boy's body and felt goosebumps rising. He pulled a sheet up over them, and there they lay for an eternity.
When the child finally stirred, he whimpered, and then cried. Garrett sat upright, leaning back against the headboard of the bed; he pulled the boy up, cradling his soft bottom in his hand. The boy wrapped his hands tightly around the man's neck and buried his face in his neck. Garrett felt the hot tears trickle down onto his shoulder. "There, there," he whispered into the boy's dark, silky hair. "What a good boy. It's alright, Jared. Let it all out." He patted the boy gently on his butt, and let his hand drift up over the boy's back. "What's wrong, honey?" the man asked finally.
"I don't know," the boy managed in breathy words.
Garrett smiled. He remembered doing much the same thing, and Billy, too, his first time. The experience Jared just had was truly sexual, and a boy experiences it as sexual, every bit as sexual as an adult would, but children are children, and they typically don't have the emotional maturity to process it as an adult would. Instead, the emotions, the feelings, the highs, the resolution - all of it simply overwhelms, and when a child is overwhelmed, even with good things, he responds often with tears.
"It felt really good, didn't it, Jared?"
Garrett felt the boy's head moving. "Yeah," he whispered.
"And that's a good thing, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"And you enjoyed it."
"Yeah."
"I'm so glad. You made me very, very happy."
"Why?"
"Because it means so much to me to be able to make you feel so good--to show you things--to introduce you to new special feelings. It's so special just to be holding you like this."
"It's so weird. I mean..." Jared paused, worried that maybe he'd say the wrong thing. "...you're this big football star..but...underneath...you're...you...you know."
"I'm like you."
"Yeah. It's like everybody sees you and they see this big...hero, but I see..." Jared voice got even softer, more tender, and Garrett felt a small warm hand on his face. "...I see YOU, like a man who wants to do stuff with me...and shows me things...and makes me feel awesome."
"And likes to hold you..." Garrett said and tightened his grip on the boy. "...and touch you..." The man ran his hand over the boy's flank.
"...And make my thing get hard." Jared blushed at his directness.
"I do that?"
"Yes!" Jared smirked.
"Wow...such power!" Garrett leaned down and kissed his sweet boy on the head. "You okay now?"
"Yeah." Jared lay still for a while longer, and then he spoke again. "Garrett?"
"What is it, honey?"
"Can I stay here like this for a little while more?"
"For a while. I wish you could stay forever, but before long, we'll need to get you home. Your folks will be wondering where you are."
"I wish I could stay with you forever." The child's voice was dreamy and distant, almost as if he were speaking to the air."
"Me, too, Jared."
"Garrett, what are we going to do when...you know...I have to leave?" There was just a note of anxiety to the boy's question, and Garrett smiled. Never had a boy so quickly fallen so head-over-heels in love. Though perhaps it wasn't all that quickly, maybe it had been happening for weeks, since their eyes had first locked onto each other.
"Oh, Jared, honey, that's the hard part...well...except for this." Garrett reached under the boy and tweaked his little penis, which made the boy giggle. "But we'll need to be so careful."
"Because no one can know."
"That's right."
The boy was silent for a while.
"When can we do stuff again?"
"I don't know, Jared. I need to think about that. We'll have to figure something out."
Jared sighed a long, slow sigh. Garrett thought he could detect a note of frustration with the boy. The man smiled, and the boy snuggled back down on his man. His hand found its way down to the man's public hair and he absentmindedly played with the thick kinks. "Do you think my thing will be as big as yours when I grow up?"
"I don't know, Jared. It has more to do with your parents, I suppose. You know genetics, an' everything."
"I guess. I'm so...small."
"I think you're perfect. And you won't be small forever, you know."
Now the boy deliberately reached under Garrett's hand and fingered his own anus. "It's still slippery down there."
"I know. Did it feel good?"
"Awesome. I thought I was gonna die. It kept getting...you know...more an' more...and then it just like exploded...an' then I was so tired."
"Because your body was working so hard."
The eleven-year-old giggled like a little boy.
"How come it feels like that...like...back there..." Jared wriggled his bottom in the man's hand.
"Slippery?"
"No...when you had your finger inside me." The boy's eyes sparkled at the memory and his cheeks grew red.
"I'm not sure of all the reasons. All the nerves are sort of connected down there - you're front and your back - but some people just really like it." Garrett waited a beat. "I'd say probably you're one of those people."
The boy snorted one, short, soft laugh. "Yeah," he whispered. "Garrett?"
"Yes?"
"Will you want do that...you know, um...put your finger in me again?"
"If you'd like me to."
"I would."
"Then I'd love to." Garrett was tempted to lead the boy further into the world of anal sex - introduce the idea of penile pentration, but he counseled patience.
"Now?" the boy's words interrupted the man's dreamings. There was longing in the boy's pleading voice.
"Jared, I'd love to, but we can't. I think we really do need to get you home."
"Ohh," the boy sighed. Garrett smiled. Puppy love was a wonderful thing. To see it in a young gay boy made it no less so. "Come on," Garrett said. "I think we need to get cleaned up."
"How come?"
"I don't think we want your mom finding the slippery stuff on your underpants, do we?"
Garrett felt the boy stiffen. "No!" came the horrified reply. "Ready?" Garrett asked, and without waiting for an answer picked him up and with Jared's legs wrapped around his waist, Garrett carried the boy into the bathroom.
In the shower, Garrett knelt - literally - at the feet of the boy-god. With the warm water falling over them, he carefully cleansed the boy. From his head to his feet, Garrett soaped every centimeter with loving caresses. The boy trembled, but stood still, eyes closed, warm hands and water flowing over him, conforming to each rise, each curve, each feature of the boy's topography. His little penis pointed straight up at the man's face. And Garrett trembled at the sight of it - trembled as he fought the urge to once again bend over and take the child into his mouth. When he got to the boy's genitals, he became even gentler in his motion. The boy opened his eyes now and looked lovingly down at the man and smiled.
Garrett turned the boy around and bent him over slightly. Jared understood and spread his legs and leaned against the wall of the shower. Garrett stroked the boy's ass with a soft soapy cloth, then, he carefully spread the boy's cheeks, and he gazed down upon the the sweetest little pucker he could imagine. It was a few shades pinker now, still showing a bit of the reaction his finger had caused, but that would disappear within another 60 minutes or so - unlike...a time Garrett knew was coming in the future. The man soaped up a finger, and gently cleansed the sacred spot, and Jared sighed a soft "Ohhhh."
"Maybe my insides need to be cleaned a little," he said hopefully, with almost a smirky look around at Garrett.
"Maybe," Garrett said, and poked immediately into the boy's anus.
The eleven-year-old grunted then, and stiffened. "Hey!" he said with mock indignation.
"You didn't like that?"
"No. Yes! I mean yes, I did!"
"I thought so," Garrett said slipping his finger even deeper. "And this?" Garrett poked against the boy's tiny prostate.
"What is that?"
"It's an organ boys and men have. It's called a prostate. It makes some of the semen - sperm - when a mature male ejaculates - shoot his stuff when he orgasms."
"Well, it feels...like...I dunno...like awesome!"
Garrett laughed. "Exactly." Slowly he withdrew his finger.
"Don't take it out."
"Jared, we really do need to get going."
After a moment the boy responded. "I know." He sounded like his pet had just died.
Toweling the boy off, Garrett playfully tweaked the boy's still-rock-hard spike. "You going to be like that all the time now?"
The boy grinned. "Definitely - if I keep thinking about what you did to me."
"What I did! You had something to do with it, too, you know!" He ran the soft, think towel over the boy's genitals again.
Jared looked up at the man. Suddenly he leapt onto Garrett's naked body. "I love you so much," the boy said, burying his face in Garrett's neck. And again the man felt hot tears flow from the boy.
"I know you do, honey. I love you, too. I love you so much."
For the whole trip back to the stadium, Jared was quiet. He kept stealing looks at Garrett, and Garrett could tell the wheels were turning inside that beautiful little head, but he wasn't sharing. Finally, at a traffic light, Jared grinned coyly.
"What?" Garrett asked.
"You can't tell, can you?"
"Tell what?"
That made Jared grin all the more. He stretched up toward Garrett's ear - as far as his seatbelt would allow - and said, "I'm still hard...and you're making me that way!" He blushed sweetly.
"Well, you better be careful. You know what happens to icicles sometimes."
"What?"
"Someone comes along and plays with 'em and they just sort of snap off!"
Jared giggled, and Garrett laughed right along with him.
In just a few more minutes, they were at the stadium. The photographer had made up several shots. They were all incredible. One was poster sized of Garrett passing to Jared. Jared is just catching it, with the crowd in the background. It's clearly BigDawg Stadium. One, with Jared passing, was made up to look like a trading card. There were several others, too, and they were all for him! Except one, which Garrett said he wanted, which made the boy blush again.