Date: Sun, 17 Jul 2005 03:19:16 -0400 From: Imola Subject: Feeling Better Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. This story is fictional based on fictional characters. Any similarity to any person living or dead is coincidence. This is my first story. I have never written anything like this before. This story details the relationship of a teenage boy and a preteen boy. If this is legal for you to read and is the sort of stuff you enjoy reading then read and enjoy. If this is not legal for you to read or is not the sort of stuff that you enjoy then do not read. -Feeling Better- The rush of sounds and lights came back all too quick.. The TV was still on. The LED digits of the clock proclaimed "12:14." "James, I can't sleep" The voice of the boy had startled me. Standing behind be, the 11 year old must have crept up while I dozed off. "What's wrong buddy?" "My tummy hurts a little." I scooped the child into my arms. Small for his age, his stature was perfect. Not a skinny twig but by no means obese, the layer of baby fat enveloping his bubble butt, chest and hips brought a smile to my face every time I laid eyes on him. We both giggled for a moment as I carried him back to his bed. "do you want me to get you some medicine...tums, Rolaids? What does your mom usually do?" "Well, usually she will just lay with me, until it passes or I fall asleep" Didn't sound like trouble to me. "I can do that" I replied with a smile. The two of us laid back as one, me burying him into his pillow as I continued to hold him in my arms. I gently rubbed his back, and gradually his breathing slowed. I leaned foreword, hovering over the child's face as the last of his stomach pains left him. The scent of his breath was heavenly, its warmth tingling the pores of my face. I dug my nose into his side, half wrestling half playing, fully enjoying the aroma of an active boy's pajama clad body. "Feeling any better?" I questioned "A bit..." My hands never stopped caressing his back. I longed to explore what lay under his red striped boxers. My hands elliptical path was growing larger by the moment, tapering to an end where the waistband of his boxers began. He rolled towards me a bit, as if giving me silent permission to move on. I was scared. I wanted this boy so badly, however I didn't dare risk making a bad move. I treasured our friendship, didn't want to ruin anything, make anything odd, or heaven forbid (I was 18 now) get into any trouble. Was his silence acceptance? I stopped momentarily, but was instantly urged to continue with a silent moan. "That feels good" By this time my head is raging. It's taking everything I have to keep my cock down in my pants, as his legs press firmly against it. I continue to massage his back, gently creeping my hand into his boxers with each rotation. Without so much as a warning, the boy rolls over, leaving my hand on the soft skin, just below his navel. Paradise. God I wish this was easier. Why can't he be hard so I have some sort of clue as to proceed or not? As if guided by instinct, my hand ebbs ever lower. halting just above the waistline. I pause for any disapproval. My fingers slowly stretch out the elastic and slide underneath, absorbing the softness of every square inch of boy skin. Seconds later my fingers brush past his tiny cock. With him lying on his back it could have been no more than two inches soft, with his tiny sack tucked neatly underneath. A smile crept over his face, and instantly he became hard, his member now standing a proud 3 inches above his stomach. My hand slowly wrapped around its base, teasing him with gentle touches as I kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes in ecstasy. His tiny hips thrusting his cock deeper into my hand, and I tightened my grip with approval. I began a rhythmic up and down stroke with my right hand. My own cock now extending to its full 7 inches, pressing hard against the front of his closed legs. He parted them slightly, sliding my cock in between. My left hand now rising to fondle his tiny nipples, supported by a base of chubby baby fat. He let out a silent whimper, Mozart couldn't compare. The shuffle of footsteps overhead signaled the arrival of his mother and father, as well as the end of our brief escapade. I slowly removed my hand from his boxer shorts, giving his still hard cock one last tweak. As I rose from his bed, I kissed him softly on the lips, and received a warm smile in return. "Goodnight buddy, I hope you feel better" There was no reply I made my way upstairs to greet his parents. They paid me, and we talked about mindless things for a few minutes, college, summer plans. "He was great by the way, had a minor stomach ache in the middle of the night, but I think he's feeling ok now." I grinned, said goodbye, and walked out the door. Any questions, comments or suggestion, please email me. imola.turbo@gmail.com