Date: Mon, 01 May 2006 15:00:48 -0700
From: aberration@hush.com
Subject: First Resolutions Part Nine - Pumped

First Resolutions
By: Aberration

Disclaimer:

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between varied ages, which may include adult/youth. If you find this kind
of material offensive, if you are not of legal age to read such material or
if it is illegal in your country, please do not read any further. My
stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they are
works of fiction, figments of imagination and any apparent similarity of
characters to real people is coincidental.

Expression should never be considered intent and I do not condone nor
endorse any of the activities included in these representations.

Story Codes: (tb, voy, oral, anal, mast)

Comments are welcome at aberration@hush.com

Part Nine - Pumped


Not only was the year Nineteen Sixty-Nine, it was the occasion of my first
69. First of any kind of sex, besides flogging myself at every opportunity;
I discovered that at age seven. I would turn thirteen that wonderful, hazy
summer, but as yet puberty had not even shown a whisper it would anytime
soon be attacking me.

That hadn't stopped me from being a horny little guy, except I never had
the courage to be involved with anybody, so it was just a furious flinging
of the wrist. Nearly every morning and evening and sometimes even during
the day, including the bathrooms at school, I would titillate myself to
gain those marvelous tingles.

Guilt is mostly what kept me from attempting anything. I would still feel
that uneasiness after each dry orgasm would pass, especially at what I
would think, as those good feelings would well up in my little grape sized
testicles. I'd wring my thin, three inch boner between thumb and forefinger
imaging the changing room at the local pool and the half dozen or so men
and boys I'd seen naked there.

`Midnight Cowboy' was the big movie and the vague scenes and inferences
toward not just sex, but male sex occupied my thoughts. I use to have this
dream about being held captive and made to do all sorts of things to the
two shadowy figures who were my prisoners and be rescued by Mike Conners,
from `Mannix'. Mark Lester and Jack Wild also had starring roles in my
movies, ones that would never be filmed, not with the things we did.

I had enough education to know the functions of sex and how you were
supposed to be `attracted' toward females, but that hadn't kicked in for me
and I was much more interested in discovering what the dicks and balls of
men and boys, well you get the picture.

So it's late June, school has been over for a couple of weeks and boredom
is slowly creeping into each day. The neighborhood is pretty much emptied,
all the others going to camp, vacations, etc. and the kids that are around
are too little for me to play with. It's hotter then normal and I was just
cruising around on my `Sting-Ray' bike, just in briefs, a pair of cotton
shorts and low top `Converse' sneakers and felt the front tire was a little
low so I cruised over to the gas station to use the air pump.

Struggling with the twist off cap, sweating and getting a little
frustrated, a shadow came over half the bike and I looked up.

"Need some help?" the pleasant sounding voice said, but the glare was
blocking clear recognition of his face.

"Yeah," I grinned, not knowing why, it was just a reaction.

When he kneeled down, quite close to me actually, I saw it was Lincoln,
`Link' Mathers, the local high school hero, big man on campus. Everybody
knew Link; he had just had a marvelous junior year in football and
baseball.

"There ya go," he smiled at me, those deep blue eyes and chiseled features
not even a bit dampened by the dirt and little bit of grease and handing me
the cap said, "Come on inside after you fill that tire, we'll have a coke,
I'm gonna take a break."

Fiddling and fumbling, I hurriedly got enough air hissing to seem I
actually cared, the thrill at having such an invite coursing through my
hero worshiping little heart, parked my bike off to the side and peeked my
head through the entry.

I started off nervous as hell, barely able to hold the bottle he had ready
for me, one those 8 oz., green, thick things. He was very quick to put me
at ease, really seeming to take an interest and I hadn't ever spent a
happier hour in my life. In just fifteen minutes he made feel like I wasn't
just a kid, I was his friend and he was glad to spend time with me. I even
agreed to come back when he got off, accepted his offer of a cheeseburger
and shake dinner, then just `hang around', as he put it. I only left
because he had to get back to fixing cars and minding the station, his
summer job, until Mr. Franks got back.

Of course, at first, I was just so thrilled at having the attention, but as
I peddled home my `movie mode' kicked in and I started to think the
impossible. My rationale, conscious self argued that there was no way, no
way a guy like Link could be like me, but then I wasn't like the few images
of `those' men, as they were portrayed. I didn't swish my hips, my wrists
didn't fall limp, well, except after the few times I'd gotten multiple dry
orgasms and it started to cramp and I liked guys.

"Mom?" I hollered as soon as I ran through the screen door.

"What dear," she said poking her head around the corner, from the kitchen.

"Is it okay if I take just a cold shower, I'm all hot and sticky from
riding?"

Using up all the hot water was the current `pinch a penny' being insisted
upon by my father, so I thought I better ask first.

"Of course, honey," and smiled a little funny, "Just don't take too much
time, that's not good for you."

"Thanks mom!" I blurted and turned before my face could reveal the blush I
felt rushing to it.

Showers were much easier too masturbate in, the water didn't splash around
and there was enough noise to hide the telltale squish and slap. I'd
graduated to them after the first time she'd questioned such goings on and
hinted that she knew of my activity. She knew why I'd switched, I could
feel it in my bones, as they say and the guilt wilted my exhilaration as I
trotted up the stairs confused, excited and embarrassed.

Excitement was the winner, as soon as I'd discarded the little I was
wearing and glanced at the full length mirror that usually held a clothed
in various sports uniforms me and stopped dead in my tracks to stare. My
long blonde hair was sticking together from the sweat, yet I don't think I
smelled and for the first time noticed I really was starting to fill out a
little. My chest was definitely bigger, I was pretty muscled, but mostly
wiry, but what I really noticed, again seemingly for the first time, was
how both my penis and testicles actually kind of hung now, my balls
mostly. My dick, however, was still all little boy and my hairless groin
and underarms agreed.

By the time I stepped under the cold spray I'd fully boned, three inches
that quivered and bounced as I got use to the temperature. Just seconds
later my fingers are slipping up and down, my eyes are closed, mind
desperately attempting to imagine him naked, maybe lying in bed and I came
hard, shuddering and continuing. Cumming again at thinking of taking him in
my hands, gasping and tweaking myself harder and harder, slipping down to
the floor, as the water cascades over my lower half. Legs spread and
fingers just a blur, the groan that escapes my lips is feverish as inside
my eyelids I see my lips slipping over his huge, hairy penis and I explode,
shaking and quivering inside my shower, fantasizing about the hero in my
mind.

Though the hour never seemed closer, it actually did arrive and I pedaled
to the station. I went slow because I started early, but also not to get
wringing wet again, now clad in a polo and much nicer pair of shorts, still
no socks though and the same old beat up sneakers. The timing worked out
perfect and Link was just putting his tool box in the trunk of his beat up
old Ford.

"Hey little buddy," he smiled brightly as he turned and saw me pulling up,
"Glad you could make it, let's get your bike in the trunk and we'll make
like a tree and leave!"

Still chuckling as we piled into the old heap, I managed to blurt, "Thanks,
Link."

"Thanks? For having you as a little buddy? I should be thanking you!" He
beamed, looked around and drove us out of station.

"We're heading to my pad," he said, turning a corner, "I need to get
cleaned up, ok?"

"Sure!" I beamed back and he smiled, but much softer and intense at the
same time.

"I'm glad you won't mind waiting," he said, quietly adding, in sort of
`secret' tone of both body and speech, "Besides, I've got lots of stuff to
keep a guy like you from getting bored!"

Only a few minutes passed in silence, his beat up old car made too much to
noise to really talk comfortably anyway and we pulled up at his house. He
already explained nobody else would be home and we headed right to his
room, where I sat on the bed. He quickly unzipped and tugged his greasy
mechanics overalls off; wearing a similar pair of shorts I'd first worn
that morning. Except in Link's you could see he wasn't a little boy, the
fabric outlined by his teenage equipment and I didn't realize I was
staring.

He walked toward the bed, breaking my gaze, "Get up for a second, little
buddy," he said as he knelt down and stuck a fist under the mattress.

"Here ya go," he smiled, handing me a stack of Playboy and Hustler
magazines, "Check those out while I take a quick shower."

He closed himself in the bathroom and I sat down, thumbing through a
Playboy. I'd seen the health film and read the pamphlet, "What Every Boy
Should Know", but this was the first time I had a chance to review actually
nudity and I sprung instantly hard, even though I wasn't `excited' by the
material. My boner got rock solid when I saw the naked men in Hustler, but
they didn't show anything and as I picked up a different month, a much
smaller, sort of pamphlet size, black and white publication dropped to the
floor.

I had just picked it up when the bathroom door opened and Link stepped back
into his room, hair all wet, body glistening, plain white towel tucked in
and around at the hips. He glanced toward the magazine I was holding and
got sort of a panicked look on his face and with the agility he so often
showed in competition, moved in and quickly, but not rudely, retrieved it
from me and half hide it behind his back.

"Hey," I complained in typical little boy petulance, "I was gonna look at
that!"

"I'm not sure you'd like this one," he sort of smirked, half serious, half
amused, "It's a muscle magazine, just guys showing off."

"Lemme see!" I lunged for him and it.

Laughing he whirled away from me and my fingers caught the edge of the
towel and it tore away, my eyes filling with the sight of his much whiter
buttocks, some black hair growing up from his thighs and appearing as
though it was crawling into his butt hole.

"Hey!" he laughed and snatched for the towel and I reached for the
magazine, but not before getting a good eyeful of his fury trail, running
down into the forest of pubes that grew around what looked like a huge, but
soft, dick and enormous balls that also had all kinds of black hairs
growing around them.

We both surrendered and as he covered himself up, I plopped back on the bed
and started looking at the magazine. I was instantly agitated, even beyond
seeing Link's penis, for it wasn't just a muscle magazine, these men were
naked and in many poses shown with complete, large erections. I could sense
he was watching for my reaction, but I was too enthralled by the pictures
toward the end, it wasn't a man like Link, or a boy, like me, it was a
younger teen, with just a small triangle surrounding and an in between
cock, that was none the less erect then the men had been.

Finally he reached over and slide the magazine from me and smiling, his
other hand unknotting his towel and tossing both aside, stood directly in
front of me and in what now I would call a lust filled voice, said, "Since
you like the pictures so much, judging by that cute little bulge in your
shorts, maybe you'd like to see one in person."

Awestruck, I couldn't do anything but just sit there, wide eyed and
paralyzed, watching as his beautiful cock slowly bounced into a full six
inches of strong, proud erection. He had lots of hair, under his arms too,
even some in the middle of his chest, but the ones that led from his innie
belly button directly into his full, lush forest were the ones that my mind
said reach out and stroke. It was as though time stood still as my eyes
watched my fingers run the length, then slide around his fat sausage,
amazed at how alive, warm and stiff it felt.

"Yesss," my manly man hissed, "I knew you'd be into it. Jack it for me
little buddy, it's a lot more to handle then yours, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," was all I could manage, giving the lovely creature long
slow pulls and tugs.

"Do you know what little buddies do for their friends, if they really,
really want to be friends?"

"Anything," I whispered, totally awash in the reality of touching my first
cock.

"They suck their friend's cock, wrap your lips against your teeth and put
the head of my dick in your sweet mouth, little buddy, show me how much you
want to be my friend."

There was no hesitation, I may have never done it, but I'd guilty dreamt it
and I lowered myself to him, allowing the fat head of his cock to slip
quickly between my lips. The sensations and tastes were both beyond and
different then imagined, but not in the least disappointing and I worked my
lips on and down about another inch before I felt the urge to gag, then
without instruction and on instinct, pulled back a little and swirled my
tongue around the purple, engorged head and tasted his essence in the
precum there. While I swooned and moaned with him still in my mouth, he
gently took my head in his hands and held it, slowly beginning the motions
I'd become extremely familiar with in the coming days and weeks.

"Yeah," he groaned, slipping himself a little faster in and out of my
mouth, "Use your hand on the rest little buddy, it won't take long!"

I knew what he meant, but again, as though natural; I also used my other
fingers to play with his churning balls and pubes. Stroking the bottom
half, I concentrated on suctioning the rest, knowing that `suck' meant just
that, thinking of all the times I ate a Popsicle or a banana, dreaming it
was a nice fat cock like this.

"Here it comes," he grunted, stopping his thrusts and letting just the
crown stay in my mouth.

He took over from my little fingers, gripped himself tightly and easing
back pointed his angry looking, even fatter looking head at my chest and
fired the first gob there. The second splat up under my chin and I made the
decision that changed the course, or just set it on the proper path if you
will, of my life, ducking my mouth back onto that crown and receiving the
third and final deposits directly on my tongue.

"Arggh," he growled as he realized my action and with a great buildup, abs
tight and quivering, legs locked tight, he fired off the last so it slid
directly down my throat.

Swallowing and savoring, I just leaned back on my ankles and trembled, not
a full orgasm, but nice dry clicks that made me feel tremendous.

When some of my senses returned, I saw he'd lain back on the bed, his chest
rising and falling as he caught his breath, cock splayed against his pubes,
still half hard. I crawled up and over and he received me into his arms and
hugged me tight.

"I love you little buddy, we're going to be GREAT friends!"

"I love you too, Link," I whispered into his chest and snuggled down into
him, just letting myself drift off, with full knowledge now of what a real
friend was really like.