Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2006 09:22:53 -0700 (PDT) From: tag michaels Subject: The Guest Speaker There isn't a shred of truth to this story. I'm sure a boy like this exists somewhere, maybe even next door, but not in my world. The story is about intergenerational sex. It that offends you or for some reason you shouldn't be reading this, well, consider yourself warned. If you proceed, you do so at your peril, and at the risk of bodily a reaction, however comfortable but messy that might be. As always, n-joi Hugs Tag_m I was a guest speaker, among other things. In my spare time, which was a lot, I did volunteer work in public health for a small non profit agency that did a lot of outreach services. My specialty, or at least forte, was speaking to adolescents on all manner of topics from safe sex and STD's to substance abuse, sexual orientation, date rape and such, and a lot of motivational speaking. While I was asked to speak at most of the public schools within fifty miles of where I lived in a small town that perched at the edge of a large city, it was the other venues that I enjoyed the most. It was the smaller populations at the alternative schools, the day treatment programs, the residential programs such as group homes or other behavioral health entities, the kids with ADD, ADHD, ODD, CD and other emotional/behavioral diagnoses where I really felt at home. The reason of course was because I was one of them; I'd had difficulty as an adolescent and so I had more than a glimmer of the problems that they had to deal with. I believe they call it empathy. A slender five foot seven and a hundred and fifty pounds, at twenty six, I passed for seventeen; my slightly long and disheveled blonde hair along with my smooth blemish and hair free face conspiring to make me look like I belonged in the audience that I was addressing, not doing the speaking. I was also a straight shooter. I didn't use scare tactics, I didn't beat around the bush and I didn't shy away from topics that boys often brought up in an attempt to put me on the spot or embarrass me, which hasn't happened yet. I joked, I kidded, I prodded, I questioned. I got kids to interact with me and it was a rare kid whose acceptance, and often his trust, that I couldn't win in a very short time. After every speaking engagement I answered questions of which there were always at least a half dozen. I also handed out or offered my business cards with the encouragement to call my cell phone any time if they had questions or needed someone to talk to for any reason at all. Needless to say confidentiality was heavily stressed. As a result of that, I had heard all kinds of stories, hugged all kinds of kids, and offered all kinds of support. And on more than one occasion I'd helped a teenage boy work through sex and sexuality issues. They trusted me not to tell others about their deepest darkest secrets and the possibility of being a gay boy was at the very top of that list of fears. So it was that I was scheduled to appear at one of the smaller programs that provided education for kids who weren't able to maintain behavior and or academics in a regular school setting. As I said, I enjoyed doing those kinds of gigs the best even though the students can be the most disruptive. They don't have all of the activities that a regular school does so guest speakers are a novelty and amazingly enough those kids seems to enjoy it the most. This program had a suite of offices located on the top floor a relatively small older seven story business plaza where it shared floor space with a mail order business, a computer software designer, and a secretarial service. I was always a little nervous before I spoke so followed the sign to the restroom as soon as I stepped off of the elevator. In a little hallway off of the main thoroughfare, I encountered a rather husky looking guy about my age waiting outside of the restrooms. "Is there a line?" I asked him. He shook his head, said no, that he was waiting for a kid and that I could go ahead and go in. I thanked him and did exactly that. I rightfully assumed that he was escorting a child from the program that I was going to be speaking at as no one in their right mind would allow a child in that type of a program to go anywhere unattended. That sort of action was begging for trouble. In fact at some programs, a staff member actually goes into the restroom with the child although they stand close to the door. A double door affair, I entered into a small foyer then pushed my way through the second door into a small room that housed two stalls and a urinal, the latter having yellow "crime scene" type of tape crisscrossed in the opening with an out of order sign handing from the handle. I went immediately toward the two stalls, whose doors were wide open, entering the first one as it was empty. I didn't hear any noise coming from the other one so figured that the guy outside must be waiting for someone in the ladies room, so I unbuttoned my jeans and tugged the front of my boxers down under my balls and let seven and a half inches of circumcised cock hang out and drain. I'd just gotten a good stream going when; "Hey, mister," a voice whispered from the other side of the wall that separated the stalls. "Want me to suck that for ya?" I looked down to see that a small hole had been dug through the wall, allowing a person from either side to peep at whoever was in the other stall. "Huh?" I said, shaking off and tugging my underwear back in place. "Come over here," the voice, somewhat high and girlish, said again. Needless to say curiosity compelled me to do just that and there I found the cutest fucking young boy I'd seen in quite a while. His olive skin tone indicated a Hispanic, southern European, American Indian or even Pacific Islander descent. His short spiked hair, pitch black but with deep red tinted ends, and large dark eyes supported that type of heritage. His face was completely smooth, free of blemishes and hair and crystal white teeth behind perfect lips provided a contrast to his darker skin tone. He was somewhat small, looked to be about twelve and he was sitting on the toilet with his pants and underwear down around his ankles. His legs were splayed open and his bright yellow t-shirt was pulled down to cover his boyhood charms; one hand was busy cupping his balls and the other one holding onto his obviously hard cock through the fabric. "I'll suck your dick if you want mister, it's a nice one, but ya gotta hurry." I smiled and shook my head. "No. Thank you though but I don't think that's a good idea, I'm in sort of a hurry," I said. "You wanna suck mine?" he asked, taking his hands away from his front but keeping his stuff covered with his t-shirt. I could see the skin of his smooth brown balls peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, the outline of his hard young cock very visible under the shirt, the very tip marked by the darker spot where his precum had leaked out. "Hmmm, tempting, but no, really. Thank you for offering though," I told him in my most sincere voice. I wasn't one to generally outright refuse any such offer and you'd be amazed at how often boys and girls alike made them. No, I tended to be more gentle with what were often times fragile egos. "Maybe I'll see you around," I said as I backed out of the stall. I was about 99.9% sure I'd be seeing him in a few moments and smiled to myself as I headed toward the door. It was guaranteed to be interesting. I left the restroom, got directions to the program from the guy outside and three minutes later was in a closed office chatting briefly with the director and a therapist. Needless to say, I didn't give up the boy or even the fact that I'd seen him. As I said, he was drop dead cute and appeared to be a willing player and I was hoping that I'd be able to connect with him. After a few minutes of chatting a staff member knocked on the door, popped her head in and said the kids were ready for me so I headed out the door and into a large open room that sufficed as the class room. The kids were seated at small tables, the cheap plastic things that you can get at Sam's or Costco, three kids per table. I was coming from behind them and since they were busy listening to a staff member explaining the need for them to be respectful they didn't know that I'd entered the room. I spotted my yellow shirted cutie boy sitting in the middle chair of his table which was in the center of nine tables set up in rows of three with ample walking space between them. Not all of the chairs were filled and I noticed that there were no girls in the group. "So please welcome Rory," the staff said as I headed toward the front of the room, electing to walk along the outer edge of the collection of tables and students. The boy in question was busy talking to the boy next to him, rather animatedly it seems, so wasn't paying any attention to me. Until I got to the front of the room and said good afternoon that is. When he looked forward and saw me it was a classic Kodak moment. The boy's face was a mask of total horror but considering the circumstances I found it comical. His mouth had literally dropped open and his large eyes opened so far that they were as big as hubcaps for a '59 Buick. I swear I could hear the boy's heart slamming against his little chest from where I stood. I opened by saying good morning, introduced myself, and asked to go around the room and have them tell me their names. When it got to my yellow t-shirt boy he said his name in such a low peeping sound that I had to ask him to repeat it, which he did. His name was Dillon and he said it in a voice that was still somewhat high, and girlish. I went on to explain the types of things that I talked to kids about, emphasizing the sexual orientation and teenage sexuality portion. My talk that day however was on taking the risk of trying new things, of challenging oneself to expand one's experiences. Using sports as an example I explained that boys in programs such as the one they were in generally didn't try new things unless it was drugs and alcohol or other negative and often dangerous behaviors. They tended to put sports down saying it was stupid or their favorite word, "gay". The reality was; boys that had that kind of an attitude were afraid of trying something new because they might make mistakes, they might look stupid, other people might laugh at them. I went on to explain how, when I was fourteen, I'd had an opportunity to learn about computers and programming but had the "that's stupid" attitude. The man who was willing to teach me convinced me to try it and I agreed but didn't tell any of my friends. I ended up loving it, had a knack for it and when I was eighteen I sold my first computer game. I sold my second game when I was twenty one and was a millionaire by the time I was twenty three. I ended by reminding them to look inside themselves, find out who they were and be willing and even eager to try new, healthy experiences. Throughout the talk I looked directly at the boy whose grief stricken look continued to pervade his otherwise very cute face. He had eye contact with me and I could tell that he was genuinely in fear that I was, or already had, narked him out. I ended by walking around the room and giving each kid my card and telling them it was okay to call me at any time if they needed to talk about anything. And always ask questions, it was the best way for a person to learn, not just about the world around them but about themselves as well. My policy was "never ask, never know." "So," I said to the group and as I handed Dillon my card, "call me," looking the boy right in the eyes and when he took my card I gently squeezed his fingers for emphasis. He tried to smile but it was a weak one at best. I thanked them and said I'd be hanging around a little while if they had questions and in a minute I had boys crowded around and doing just that. My boy Dillon wasn't one of them however, he was busy off in a corner with pencil and paper, as were a few other boys. When one of the therapists asked if she could speak with me before I left, Dillon heard her and his head snapped up, fear still etched on his smooth face. I was really hoping the kid would call me so I could allay his worst fears, put them to rest. What she wanted was to thank me as well as discuss a couple of the kids that she thought might be able to use some extra help and hopefully they would call. As I was headed toward the door leading out of the program Dillon approached me. "Thanks for your talk Rory," he said in his somewhat high voice, the expression of grief still marring his cute face. He had extended his hand and as I took his smaller, more soft hand into mine I felt a piece of paper. The boy was slipping me what I figured was a note and in keeping with the surreptitious behavior I palmed it without looking down. "You're welcome Dillon. You make sure that you call me if I can help you in any way," I said, adding emphasis to "any" and winking at him as I withdrew my hand. He finally managed a weak smile and I turned to leave. "I will," he said quietly behind me. Once inside elevator I opened the paper and saw his note, printed beautifully with a pencil drawing of a little sad face. It definitely looked like the kid had some talent goin on. "Meet me behind the bleachers at Thomas Park after school. PLEASE!!! If U can't then I will call you 2-nite." The park he was referring to was close by so I drove over and parked my car. The weather was overcast with the threat of rain very real and I wondered if Dillon would actually show up. I played the tape in my memory system of our encounter in the restroom, bringing the boy into focus as he sat there on the throne with his legs wide open. In my brain I could see his balls, about half of the dusky colored, hairless wrinkled sac hanging there between equally smooth hairless thighs. The hard cock under the t-shirt had looked to be around five or six inches long and of a medium girth. I thought I could see the rim of his cock head but even so, his foreskin could have been retracted if indeed he still had it. I let my brain remember his face looking up at me. The kid was drop fucking dead cute by any sane person's standards. Thick lashes and brows framed his large eyes, probably the most dominant feature on his slightly round, still boyish face. I hadn't seen him smile but when he spoke, his crystal white teeth provided an almost brilliant contract to the olive skin tones around them. I ran the tape of the dialog and wondered what exactly had prompted the boy to behave as he had. He certainly seemed quite serious about his offer to suck or even be sucked and certainly his hard young cock supported that. I hadn't been with anyone, let alone a boy, for almost nine months and my cock did a little twitch that went long with the rapid beat of my heart as I thought about lying naked with the boy, our bodies touching as we kissed or even just held each other. I was brought out of my reverie by the sudden onslaught of rain, the large drops hammering loudly on the roof of my car. I really doubted that the boy was going to show but I waited none the less and in no time I saw the big yellow school buses as they pulled up in front of the elementary school on the other side of the field from where I was parked. Dillon's program was only a few blocks away so if he was gonna show it would be soon. The rain was coming down pretty hard and I glanced in my rear view mirror, checking the area behind me through the back window and then glancing out of the side mirrors. When I looked back through the partially fogged windshield there he was, standing under the narrow overhang of a building about twenty feet behind the bleachers. Even from where I was, a hundred feet away, I could see that the adorably cute young boy was drenched. I started the car and turned the heater on full blast then backed out of my parking slot and drove over toward where Dillon was standing, pulling up to the curb. I hit the button for the passenger side window and leaned down to look through it at the boy. "Dillon," I hollered, "Come on, get in." He hesitated for a moment then realized that it was me and came running toward the car. I popped the handle then pushed the door open so that when he got to me he could slide right in but he hesitated. "Yyyour car, I'm sssoaked," he said. "Don't worry about it, it's leather, it'll dry. Come on, get in before you get more soaked than you already are." As he slid into the bucket seat I could see that there wasn't much chance of the boy getting more wet than he was. I zipped the window up as he settle in and said, "Dude, you are drenched to the bone, we gotta get you somewhere to dry out. Want me to take you home?" He shook his head, beads of water flying off of his black hair which was plastered to his scalp. "No, please. I can't go there like this. My mom is sorta crazy and this will just piss her off." The boy was shaking, which wasn't a surprise. Hell it was barely April and the axiom about April showers was holding true with a low fifties temperature to help make it more miserable. I only hoped that the May part of the expression followed through with its end of the bargain. I thought quickly and the only conclusion I could come up with, wasn't one that I was really prepared for but it was, none the less, the only solution. "Well the, about the only thing I can think of is to take you to my house. At least we can put your clothes in the dryer and put some hot chocolate or something into you." His teeth were chattering, his small body was shaking, and he nodded his head while holding his hands under the dashboard as if reaching for the warmth that was blasting out of the heater. "Fffine, let's gggo." I dropped the gear shift into drive and hit the gas, the SLK's 355 horse power v8 causing the rear tires to spin slightly before they caught traction, and we were off like a shot. "Ccccool," the boy chattered to me. I approached the gated community where I lived five minutes later, was passed through the guard shack, and three minutes after that was pulling into the curving, shrub lined driveway to my house. The door of the middle bay of my garage was already opening as I approached and the car slipped in underneath it while it was still only half open. Dillon hadn't said a word while we were driving but his shivering had diminished considerably and his chattering was totally gone. "Come one, let's get you into something dry," I said as I climbed out of the low slung car. Going around the back I met the boy as he was closing the door and discovered just how small he really was. The top of his head, and since his hair was all flattened it was the actual top, barely came to my chin. I put my hand on his shoulder to encourage him to follow me around the front of my other car, which he readily did. Like many such homes, the first room off of the garage is the laundry room and mine is a large one with plenty of open space. Besides the requisite washer and dryer it also contained plenty of storage cupboards and drawers as well as a three quarter bathroom, that is; sink toilet and shower. I often came in wet from working outside or sometimes from the pool or hot tub so kept my outside work clothes there as well as a terry cloth robe, the latter I planned on having Dillon wear since I didn't own a single other thing that might fit him. I pulled the robe, one of those short, thigh length things in dark blue, from a closet along with a similar colored towel. "Why don't take your clothes off and we'll toss them in the dryer, along with the damp towel. I'm gonna go into the kitchen and make you a cup of hot chocolate so meet me in there when you're done, okay?" He nodded his head and had started to kick off his shoes before I turned to leave. I went in, on through the family room and into the kitchen where I began putting together the warm drink for the boy. He came through the door just as I was pulling his hot chocolate from the microwave and since the floor plan is mostly wide open he saw me immediately and headed in my direction. "Come, sit at the counter," I told him, noticing that the robe hung loosely on his small body, the length of it down past his knees. "That seems to fit okay," I said as he sat and I slid the steaming mug across the granite counter top to him. He nodded his head. "Yeah, and it's a lot better than my soaking wet clothes. I laughed and said I'd be right back and went into the laundry room to put his clothes in the dryer. Everything was in a pile on the floor including his boxers which, although not as soaked as his pants and shirt, were still wet. I put everything, including his sneakers, into the dryer, set the time, and went back to chat with my guest. I'd made a small pot of coffee while Dillon's drink was heating so poured myself a cup, added the French vanilla creamer and turned to stand against the counter opposite where my drying boy was sitting. "This is really nice of you to do Rory, thanks a lot," he started out. I nodded my head and said it was my pleasure. "So. About what happened this afternoon," he started out, looking down at the mug in his small hands. "You didn't tell did you?" I shook my head and said that I hadn't and he wanted to know why. "Because I felt that it was between you and me. If you had tried to get money from me for it that might have been different but you didn't. I figured that you have your reasons for doing what you did and it would be better for you if I could maybe understand it instead of you just getting into a trouble for it, and probably a great deal of trouble," I added. He nodded his head and exhaled in a way that said "no shit Sherlock." "Sooo, do you want to talk about it?" Instead of giving me a direct answer the boy started out on the offense. "You thanked me for offering to be sexy and said you didn't have time. Does that mean you would have done something if you did have time?" I smiled and said gently, "How about if we start with you first okay? Is propositioning men in the bathroom something you do a lot?" He shook his head. No, it wasn't, actually it was the first time he'd tried it and when I asked him the reason he said that he'd actually gone to the restroom because he'd suddenly gotten really horny in class and wanted to beat off. I smiled and said I could understand that as it had happened to me when I was a boy as well. Dillon went on to say that when he heard me come in then saw me standing there that he just did it, asked me the question. He said it wasn't really planned or anything it just sort of popped out of his mouth. He said that he'd overheard a boy one time telling another boy that he did that sometimes in bathrooms at the park or other places and that it was sort of fun, both sucking a cock and getting his own cock sucked on. I nodded my head in understanding and speaking of standing I wanted to sit down. "Let's go sit in the living room, it'll be much more comfortable," I said. I headed off and Dillon followed me to a set of leather arm chairs that sat not at an angle toward each other, a small coffee table in front of them. "Have you ever done that before, you know, oral sex?" I asked once we were settled in. He nodded his head. "Yeah, I did once about a year ago with my cousin when he was visiting from Hawaii." That might explain the boy's coloring if the cousin was a blood relative. "So, you enjoyed that and want to try it again?" His big wide grin, white teeth sparkling and eyes twinkling mischievously, was my answer. "May I ask how old you are now Dillon?" The cute young thing had just turned fourteen two months before, definitely small for his age, and most probably puberty was kicking in hard. "Do you think this, umm, sucking cock thing is just for fun or is there some other reason for it?" He gave me a perplexed look, clearly not understanding what I was getting at. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you think you might be gay? Is that part of what's going on?" I asked the question softly so as not to scare the boy. He seemed to think about that for a good minute and like a good therapist, although I'm not a therapist, I sat quietly and waited for the boy. He leaned forward to set his chocolate on the table and when he sat back his legs opened a little so the front of the robe was cracked open just enough for to see his cock as it rested on top of his balls. "Sometimes I think so and other times I'm not sure." I explained that was pretty normal for boys his age. "When you jack off, I assume you jack off." He nodded his head and grinned again. "Do you think about girls or boys?" "Sometimes boys," he answered quietly, "but most of the time I think about older guys." He was sort of looking at the floor when he added, "Like you." So there it was. I wanted to go to him, to wrap him in my arms and just hold him close to me, to rub his back and coo in his ear that everything would be okay. As it was I did go to him but I knelt on the floor between his feet, resting back on my haunches, and put my hands on his knees. He looked at me, his large dark eyes full of wonder, of curiosity and what I thought might be trust. "Remember what you asked me earlier about what I would have done if I'd had time?" he nodded his head. "Well," I went on in a soft soothing voice, "I have time right now." I wouldn't have thought it possible for his eyes to get much bigger but they did. "Would you like that Dillon?" He nodded his head slowly. I kept my eyes on his and moved my hands up to where the cloth belt was holding the robe together and untied it. "Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked before going any further. I needed to be sure. I wasn't worried about the boy talking about it to anyone afterwards. Given his behavior thus far I just needed to know for a fact that the road we were soon to go down was the one that he wanted to travel. "Yes," he said in a voice that sounded a little husky, "I really do want this Rory." I pulled the flaps of the robe open and exposed the young god and felt my heart lurch at the sight of him. He'd let his legs fall all the way open so nothing was blocking my view of all that made him boy. His cock, as dark as the rest of him, was about half way hard and rising, the circumcised head pointing off to his left side. The pitch black hair at the base of his cock was a small little sprinkling of barely curling fuzz. His balls didn't hang exactly but were a crinkled bag attached underneath the base of his cock. There wasn't a hair on them that I could see, the oval eggs resting almost side by side. It wasn't as thought they were held up tight against his body like preteen boy for it was indeed a maturing bag. It was just that they didn't hang like many boys Dillon's age although they would at some point in time. Of course, maybe it was due to his still being a little chilled, I didn't know and at the point I could not have cared less. I reached up and rubbed his chest, my fingers razing across his small nubbins of flesh and eliciting a moan from him. His chest was fairly typical of a boy of his age and build, nicely enough defined but not real muscular. His belly was flat and taut; sloping into his flat pubic bone where his full hard, five plus inches of boy cock was by then standing proudly at attention. I let my hand wander downward until his cock head poked my wrist then turned my hand over and grasped onto his cock, reveling in the firmness of him. He inhaled sharply as I stroked him a few times, his head resting back against the chair with his eyes closed. I leaned in close and inhaled, taking in the fragrance of a healthy growing teenage boy, a mixture of his natural musky boy odor and a little sweat. I let my tongue snake out and lick at his balls causing him to gasp. I pulled his cock down toward me and rose up higher on my knees then licked at the underside of his cock and up underneath his swollen head before going over the top and taking a third of his rigid penis into my mouth. "Ooohhh," he moaned, his breath coming much faster as I suckled him, licking the silky smooth head of his cock, cleaning off the sticky residue of his leaking precum. I knew that the boy wouldn't be able to last very long, no boy can when his pride and joy is being worked on for the first time by someone other than himself. I also knew that there would be no advance warning, that his young balls would just give up his warm sperm out all of a sudden. I took my mouth away and stroked him and less than thirty seconds later he groaned out, his cock thickened and a jet of white goo spurted out onto his belly. I continued to jack him off and was rewarded with three more squirts before his balls ran out and the liquid just slowly oozed from the tip of his cock head. I pushed his cock to the side and leaned forward and licked a glob of his sperm from his panting belly. It didn't taste sweet or anything but it was still nice. I leaned back and looked at his face, so smooth, relaxed, his eyes still closed. Fuck he was cute as all hell and I was hoping like crazy that he would want to become better friends. He opened his eyes and saw me looking at him and grinned; one of those slow sort of lazy and satisfied grins. "That was fucking awesome Rory. Thanks a lot." He said. I still had his cock in my hand and of course it was still hard as stone. I squeezed it a couple of times and told him it was my pleasure. "Do you think my clothes are dry yet?" he asked. I felt my heart sink a little. A cum and run; a slam bam thank you Sam. "No they probably won't be dry for another hour," I told him. "Why, do you want to go?" His face got a funny look on it and he shook his head. "No, not at all. I was just askin. I was hoping I could maybe like, suck on your cock. That is if you don't mind." Riiiight as if I'd mind if that adorable young thing had his lips wrapped around my pole. Speaking of my pole, the thing was fully stretched out inside my pants and I was feeling more than a little bit cramped. I used the edge of the robe to wipe the boy's cooling sperm from his dusky body. "I don't mind at all Dillon," I said, "but for right now I have to stand up, my knees hurt and my dick is pretty uncomfortable." I stood up and stretched but before I was done I felt tugging at the button of my Dockers. Dillon had sat forward in the chair and was going for my cock. I saw no reason to stop him and it didn't appear that he needed any help so I stood there, hands on my hips and watched as he unbuttoned, unzipped, undid, then slipped his fingers inside the waistband of my boxer briefs and pulled them down. He was in close and nearly got poked when my cock, freed from the confines of underwear, popped out to greet the boy like a Great Dane. "Fuuuuck, it's so fucking huge Rory." Well, it wasn't, at least to me anyway, but I guess to a boy of Dillon's age and size then I must have seemed pretty big. He pulled my clothes down far enough that my balls were also fully exposed and of course the boy had to hold them and fondle them and pass comment on their size and weight. "How do I do this Rory, suck your dick?" I showed him how to fold his lips down over his teeth, which he did, then cautioned him against trying to take in too much at one time. From above him I watched as he leaned forward, mouth open, and then felt the warmth as he closed his perfectly shaped lips over the shaft, my fat cock head captured in his small mouth. I closed my eyes and felt my body almost melt as Dillon moved, making the sucking motions with his mouth while his tongue, with nothing else to do in the cramped quarters, explored the head of my cock. "Your precum tastes kinda salty but okay," he said, taking his mouth from me long enough to make the observation then returning to fill the void as soon as the words were out. I was able see down around his head and arms while he sucked me, all the way to where his cock was, the slightly lighter colored head pointing straight up in the air. I wanted him in my mouth again. I wanted to feel the warm hardness of him in my hand and the satiny head in my mouth. "I want you to cum too Rory," he said, taking my cock from his mouth again. "But my mouth is getting a little sore cuz you're so big." I asked him if he wanted to make me cum or he wanted me to do it. He wanted to do it, he wanted to be the one stroking my cock when I squirted. "Okay, how about this. You hold onto my cock and I'll put my hand over yours and I'll do the moving until I'm ready then you can take over." He nodded his head then wrapped his hand around my thick shaft, just about in the middle, and I wrapped my hand over his and started jacking off. I was going to suggest that he play with my balls while I stroked but the cute young thing used some initiative and did it on his own, cupping my fat sperm makers and gently squeezing and tugging on them. Then he did a strange thing, at least I thought it was strange, for such a sexual novice. He put his lips against the tip of my cock and alternated between allowing the very tip to penetrate his mouth and just compressing his lips against the smooth flesh as though nuzzling it. I was getting hot. The whole scene, coupled with a week without physical release and almost twenty times that amount of time without someone else's help, and the fact that the boy attached to my manhood was so goddamned cute, was working to get me close to sperming but when the boy did that, put his lips to the end of my cock and did what he did well, it sort of just pushed me over the edge. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," I panted and took my hand away from his. Dillon took up the pace, stroking me rapidly and automatically gripping me tighter in the process. He had taken his face away in the process and I suppose in retrospect that had been a good move. Eventually I would cum in his face, unloading a copious amount of sperm onto the smooth dark skin of his cheeks, chin and eyes, and I would do it at his insistence. For this however, his first witnessing of my explosion, it was better that he didn't wear it, at least on his face. The first of eight jets of cum erupted with such a force that when it first hit his smooth chest it splattered a little bit, like a drop of water. The rest of the spurts hit on top of or all around the first one, most of them leaving a two to three inch trail of goo that seemed all that much whiter against his olive skin. As soon as my cock was reduced to oozing he put his lips back to the tip of it and licked off some of my sperm then took his mouth away again. "Fuuuck Rory, you make a ton of cum," he commented as he let go of me and stood up. Indeed his chest and solar plexus area were awash in my sperm, the streaks beginning to run a little bit. "How about a shower Dillon, I'm thinking that it would be easier to clean off that way than trying to wipe it off." The boy nodded his head, said it was a good idea then asked if I would take a shower with him. That was an event that I wouldn't have missed for the world and was going to suggest it myself before he beat me to the punch. "Come on then," I said, encouraging to stand then taking his hand and leading him down the hall to the master bedroom at the end. "Jeez what a huge room," he said as we walked through the open doorway. Indeed it was large, a sitting area comprised of a small sofa along with a couple of chairs and end table as well as a California king sized bed taking up about half of the overall space and leaving plenty of space to walk about in. It had its own fireplace, a small fridge built into an entertainment unit beneath a sixty inch plasma TV mounted on a wall about fifteen feet from the end of the bed. French doors opened out onto the back yard, pool and sauna and an arched doorway led to the dressing room and bathroom, which was where I led Dillon. In the dressing room I took my clothes off, hanging the pants in their proper place and depositing the rest of my clothes in a hamper along with the robe that I took off of Dillon. I took his hand again and led him through the sink and toilet area, past the oversized Jacuzzi tub to wide the open shower area. I got the water where I wanted and we stepped in under the spray. "How about if I wash you Dillon?" I asked once we were soaked. The boy nodded his head in agreement so I squirted some AXE body soap into my hands and began the process. I did shoulders first, massaging him and causing little moans of pleasure. I worked down to his tiny little butt then stood and re-soaped and started on his chest, working down to his belly button then dropped to my knees and started on his feet. All the while I admired his compact little body, feeling the muscle of a growing boy, loving the softness of his brown skin. "Gosh your hands feel so good doin that Rory," he cooed. "Nobody's ever done this for me, least not since I was a little boy." It was all I could do to not latch onto his rampant cock with my mouth and suck until his hairless balls gave up another load of his sperm, this time into my mouth. I worked each foot and leg up to his groin then stood and re-soaped again. When I knelt back down I placed him sideways to me and used one hand to wash his butt, reveling in the feel of the fleshy orbs. I allowed my fingers to slip inside the crack and graze against his puckered muscle, continuing forward and cupping his balls from behind for just a second before sliding back out. After the third such trip I allowed my fingers to concentrate on his tight little hole. "Ooohh fuck that feels so good," he moaned. I moved the hand that was on the other side so that I could cup and fondle his balls, wash his pubic bone, and cleanse his cock, all the while massaging his butt hole. As much as I didn't want to stop, I also didn't want him to cum quite yet, wanting to reserve his second sperming for my bed. I finally let go of the boy, stood up and pulled down the detachable shower head and got him all rinsed off. That finished, it wouldn't do but what Dillon wanted to reciprocate so I stood patiently while he washed me with the same tenderness and thoroughness that I had shown him. And he didn't shy away from my asshole, slipping his small hand between my cheeks and allowing his fingers to massage and explore that hidden area. I rinsed, we got out and dried off, both of us shivering slightly. I generally keep the heat down during the day, my little bit to conserve energy, and I'd neglected to turn it up when I got home, although it would kick up a couple of degrees automatically by four thirty which was just around the corner. "Brrr, a little chilly," Dillon said, hugging himself. The cold didn't seem to have affected his cock which was still stone hard and standing proudly at attention. "Come on," I encouraged him and went to the bedroom, tugged the covers down and climbed in. Once the boy was in with me I pulled everything up to our shoulders. Dillon didn't need any encouragement from there but moved right in and snuggled up to me so I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in close. "Mmmm, much better," he said, his head on my shoulder. I ran my free hand up and down his smooth back, down onto the bubbly orbs of his butt and back up again. As my hand ran across his butt the second time Dillon pushed against me, his hard cock pressing into my belly alongside my own still raging cock. "I like laying here with you holding me Rory. It feels so safe and warm," he mumbled. I told him I loved holding him and being with him. I kept rubbing up and down his back, both of us quiet for a moment then he spoke again. "Have you ever like, kissed a boy Rory?" When I told him that, indeed I had, he asked what it was like. I didn't say anything but moved back out of our embrace and rolled onto my elbow, gently pushing him onto his back at the same time. He looked up at me, knowing what was coming and as I lowered my face to his, he kept his eyes open until the last minute. My lips touched his and gently applied pressure along with some lip action. I was only there for five seconds or so before pulling back. "How was that?" I asked him. "I'm not sure," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I think I need to do it more to see if I like it." I was beginning to really like this kid. I lowered my head again and this time we both opened our mouths wide to allow for serious kissing and not some mother to child peck. I extended my tongue rather tentatively, not wanting to scare him, but he immediately pushed his own tongue into mine and allowed them to do the usual introductory dance. I loved how Dillon's lips felt, so incredibly soft and tender, the taste of him still somewhat sweet after the hot chocolate. We broke the kiss then went right back at it, Dillon's arms around my neck encouraging me to continue. My free hand rubbed on his chest, brushing back and forth across his nipples, then moved south, feeling the growing muscle of belly and abs. I bypassed his cock and went to his thighs and made the return trip upward, my fingertips trailing lightly on the soft sensitive inner part of his leg until the back of my hand hit his balls. I reversed my hand and cupped his smooth sperm makers and at the same time, breathed and licked into his ear. The boy moaned loudly, his body went rigid and he thrust his hips up, pushing against my hand the relaxed back onto the bed. My hand moved higher and took hold of his raging hard cock, gently squeezing the warm hard flesh from the base to the swollen head. I decided that I wanted the boy's cock in my mouth and not my hand so started inching my way down the bed while my hand stayed in place. I stopped at nipple oasis, licked and sucked a few moments to the accompanying sounds of moans and "oh god's", then licked and kissed my way down to his outtie belly button then further south until his cock head poked me in the cheek. I turned my head and looked it in the eye, saw the silvery evidence of Dillon's arousal and took a moment to fully admire the boy. I love cock, any cock, period end of story. A boy's cock however is something special to me. I could look at young teenage boy's genitalia for hours, admiring the symmetry, the softness, the beauty. A Boy's balls drive me wild, the smooth nuggets hanging gently like so much fruit to be picked, or licked. I so loved Dillon's firm flat belly as it sloped into the pubic bone, that classic V shape with a smattering of newly grown fuzz at the base of all that makes a boy, a boy. All boys were works of art but the boy in my bed at that moment was at the top of the list in all categories. If I had stayed and looked long enough I'm sure that I could have cum without doing another thing. But I didn't. I pulled gently on the bag `o nuts in my hand which caused Dillon's raging cock to rise up which in turn made it easier for me to suck him, which I did. I opened wide and moved, taking the head and a good two inches of the shaft inside of my mouth and closed. God I loved the feeling of a cock in my mouth, on my lips. I allowed my tongue to explore the silky smooth texture of his cock head, cleaning the precum from the slit, then moving all around until I'd felt every millimeter of his head. I bobbed back and forth there, about every third time taking all of his pulsing cock into my mouth, the head of it bouncing off of the back of my throat. Dillon was moaning like a wounded warrior but of course it was a good kinda moan. Then all of a sudden, "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," he groaned. I felt his cock thicken against my lips then the warmth of his liquid as it splashed into the back of my throat and slid, unceremoniously, down my throat. He had thrust his hips in the air, that standard young boy - and sometimes oldsters - reaction to an orgasm. I wrapped my arm around his waist and slipped my hand in underneath him and gripped onto his slim little putt and held him in place while I applied as much suction and throat action as I could to his spurting appendage. As usual it was all over almost as soon as it began and the boy relaxed back onto the bed, my hand still trapped beneath him, not that I was going to complain. I'd kept his cock in my mouth and of course it became "after sperming" sensitive so I had to relinquish my oral hold on him, much as I didn't want to. I retrieved my hand as well then slid back up along side of him and let my hand rest on his chest and just lay there propped up on an elbow and watched him come down off his sperming high. Dillon's eyes finally opened; well sort of as they were mostly just half open. "That was pretty fucking incredibly dope Rory," he said with a half smile that matched his half open eyes. I leaned down and kissed him, the motion of my lips matched by the boy without any hesitation. "What time is it? I probably should get going sometime. My mom will go ballistic if I'm not home by four thirty." I glanced at the clock beside my bed and saw that it was about twenty minutes shy of the stated time. "Well I suppose we should get going then. Your clothes should be dry by now." I started to roll away from him and he pulled me back to him. "I don't want this to end Rory. Can I see you again? Please?" The look on his face, one that I can't exactly describe, made my heart go out to the boy. He was sort of saying that he needed me, and that was a good feeling, even if it was coming from a fourteen year old boy. "Sure Dillon. I'd like that too but we're gonna have to be real careful. Ya know?" "I know Rory. I'll be careful honest. I won't tell anybody either, not that I have anyone I could tell." I stood next to the bed and extended my hand to him, which he took, and helped pull him up to his feet. His cock was finally started to return to its default state, a fact that didn't pass unnoticed by Dillon either. "Sometimes it just seems to stay hard for ever it seems like," he said. "Well I love it and thinks it's a great cock, hard or soft," I told him. "In fact I love your entire body." He blushed at the compliment and said thanks then grasped onto my half hard cock. "You didn't cum a second time Rory." I explained to him that it wasn't necessary for me to cum every time my dick got hard and he laughed, his voice a melodic sound that was pleasing to my ears. "Yeah, well, it's gonna be my goal to make sure that you cum every time I do," he said. "Well you're on, I accept that challenge," said. "Come one, lets get you home before your mother has a chance to ruin any future we might have together." I put my arm around his shoulder and hugged him to me. Dillon's arm went immediately around my waist and he snuggled in close. "Damn," I thought to myself as we headed out of my room and down the hall, "I could get real used to this."