Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2013 17:46:40 -0800 From: marianasdeep4@hushmail.com Subject: I Got My First, Part VII Please add this Part VII of the story, I Got My First, to its directory, listed in both the Adult-Youth and Camping sections of gay male, and to my marianasdeep archive: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#marianasdeep Thanks! The Deep Dear Reader, if you can, please contribute to Nifty. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html They make all this possible. There will be one last chapter, though a spinoff is brewing ;) I Got My First Part VII. An Act of Love This Time I was awakened in the middle of the night by Tom stirring, my cheek still nestled on his breast. Tom started reaching for his boxers using light streaming in the doorway. I thought it was morning and began dutifully looking for my whitey tighties, when to my surprise Tom left the tent wearing just his boxers. It was only then I realized the light in the doorway was not morning light, but a set of lanterns set up near the communal privy. I heard a streaming on some bushes near our tent, and stuck my head out of the tent doorway merely to confirm not investigate what it was. I got to behold Tom in midstream, the front of his boxers held below his balls with one hand, the base of his cock and his balls held by the other, aiming the stream and playing with it the way boys do. Already by age 12, Tom was long enough for the end of his cock to swing as he shook off, then re-arranged the package back into its wrapper, letting the elastic slap his lower stomach as he began his walk back to the tent. "Tom, they told us we're supposed to go down to the privy!" I said as a mix of scolding and cautioning. "Fuck that, it's only a piss," he said, drawing supportive giggles from me as he crawled back into the tent. But the joy of being his comrade in arms, complicit in his crimes, was soon dashed, "Don't you ever do anything wrong?" When he lied down he was turned away from me, amplifying my hurt. He had left his boxers on, further diminishing any hope I had to return to our previous intimacy. We laid in silence for a long, the hurt drawing back a question in my mind, a question I had always wanted to ask him: "Tom, why did you tell the counselor you saw me sucking Danny's cock? You were lying about me, why?" The hurt was now evident in my voice. "Did he tell you that? He's the one lying. I never said that." Tom replied tersely. After another long silence, Tom continued, "Did he use that to get into your pants?" "No, but he threatened to spank me again for it." I replied. "Is it true?" He asked. "What?" I replied. "Did you suck Danny's cock?" Tom asked. "No!" I said, obligingly sounding offended. "He only threatened to spank you for it?" Tom asked. "Yes." I replied. "Did you deny it?" Tom asked. "Of course," I replied, as if that answer should have been obvious. "So he believed you and didn't spank you again?" Tom asked. "No." I said, trying to commiserate with him, trying to prove to him that I too get unfairly indicted. "So he did spank you again?" Tom asked. "No." I said, slowly realizing that I was being cross-examined. "What happened then? Did he let you go?" "No," I answered, trying to let him know that I too do not so easily get off the hook, "He asked if I had ever sucked cock before." There was silence, just as there had been silence from me when the counselor had first asked that question. Tom rolled from his facing away from me to lying on his back and looked me in the eyes. "Did you deny it?" Tom asked. Tom had me cornered again, just as he had when I first returned to my bunk that night and he was wondering why I had been in the counselor's room so long. To the counselor, I didn't deny it outright. Left his unfair question unanswered with silence. "No." turning my head from his gaze ashamed. Tom knew the implications. I begrudgingly offered explanation. "I've sucked cock with some friends at home." I said. To my surprise, Tom didn't shun me, supported me in fact, "That's o.k., I've had a couple of friends on the end of mine." "So what happened that night? What did you have to do?" Tom asked. I didn't know at first if I wanted to answer Tom's question, but figured we had already been remarkably candid. "He gave me a choice between getting spanked and sucking his cock." I finally admitted. "You sucked his cock? That asshole." To my surprise, Tom reached for me, "God, I'm sorry kid." Tom grabbed me and held me close. My face was finally on his chest again. He was on my side, despite what I admitted I had done. I began to tear, not about my rape, but that I had a friend to confide in. The testimony revealed that I had sucked cock, but along the way, I discovered that Tom had had his cock sucked by friends at home. I was now majorly turned on by the image of that in my mind. And I was still sexually un-satiated after the main event of that evening. Now I wanted to suck Tom's cock so badly, I was pushed to audacity. "Tom, who sucks your cock at home? Do you suck them?" "Hell no," he let his obligated offense trail off, realizing I might get hurt, and replaced it with bravado by answering the first question, "There's this kid I sometimes hang with that's really into me. I only let him suck my cock when I can't get my girlfriend to let me fuck her. I get so horny sometimes when she won't put out." I was now spinning with desire. I didn't know that he had a girlfriend, but there was no reason to disbelieve him. He was twelve already, had his pubic hair, and not just a thin wisp either, like mine before the counselor shaved even that off, but a mustache-like line across the top of his pubic area. He was confident. Told authority where to stick it. If he had the urge to fuck, he would find some girl and just fuck. No questions asked. No doubt in his mind. Confident enough in himself and in his body to just fuck. No answering to anyone about it. No second guessing his decision, no worry about someone else's moral impositions, no parents at home whom he respected enough to listen to. I was actually surprised to find out that he was consistent about it, had a girlfriend he saved it for, that he didn't just fuck any girl he wanted to. He had been to that place that most 11 and 12 year old boys only dream about. I wanted to know more. "Aren't you afraid you might get her pregnant?" I asked, all the while lusting for that very-spoken virility. "No, she's older than me. It's her responsibility to prevent that stuff." Tom replied "How much older than you?" I asked with surprise. "She just finished 8th and I'm going into 7th, so two years I guess." "Does she make you wear a condom or something?" I asked, having only recently learned what one was by having secretly watched "Summer of 42" at home. "No, she let's me just cum up inside." He replied. "What does she do to prevent it then?" I asked, hoping to get a glimpse of this brave new world. "I don't know, takes that pill or something." he replied. "Where do you fuck?" I asked for more titillation, turned on by every answer. "Lot's of places, her bedroom mostly, mine if my Mom's waitressing and my asshole stepdad is out." He replied. "How often do you fuck?" I asked, barely able to contain myself, my hard-on against his hip starting to leak onto his boxers. "A couple of times a week," he replied getting impatient, "Ricky, come on. I'm having to go without it now, and you're making me horny." It hadn't been my intent, but I was glad for the outcome. It offered me a chance. I was probably more horny than he was, drunk with it in fact, enough to brave the suggestion. "If you have a friend at home to suck your cock, can I be that friend here?" At first there was an uncomfortable silence, but he surprised me with his answer, "please." I was so stunned, I didn't know where to start. Tom reached for the elastic of his boxers and pulled them off his hips. As if he had a head start, I only then started getting organized. Got onto my knees to get in between his, as he slid his boxers off of his legs. I was already nude, giving me the time to catch up as he maneuvered his legs. I lay between them, staring into his eyes. "Ricky, I can't return the favor." Tom said. "That's o.k." I said as I lied down face to face. I gave him a kiss on his cheek, knowing that kissing his lips would make him uncomfortable, and moved quickly to his neck to assure him that I wouldn't be asking for more. Continuing to move down his chest, I found my first target, his nipple, the one I had been viewing in profile. I took it into my mouth and gently sucked. To my delight, he moaned, so I stayed there as I had been wanting to, increasing his pleasure and mine. When it was time, I moved off his nipple, moved to his armpit to breathe in his scents. His skin was smooth, soft, warm, hair fine, a boy. There were nicks and scrapes, scars even, that heralded boyhood adventures, but the skin also covered developed muscles, proving his burgeoning manhood was on to new experiences. And it was then that I noticed his skin had other wounds, wounds that heralded experiences less adventuresome, his abuse. I began to realize he had to endure more than just lashings on his butt. I let my head land gently on the first soft flesh below his rib cage, and began to cry. "It's o.k., Ricky. I'm alright." He answered, caressing my head, consolingly, knowing full well what my tears were about. I moved on, over a six-pack stomach, to the furrow of his midline, then down to his navel. As a swimmer I was fit, but my God, how could he be so strong at our young age. I found his navel, kissed it, licked it, then just stared at it, that first scar signifying his birth. I kissed across his mid region over to his hip, a pelvis bone suspending a tight drum of skin to his groin, back up to the hip on the other side, defining a V narrowing to his manhood. And it was a manhood, not a boyhood like mine. He was still a boy, but his enlarged cock, a solid line of pubic hair, and swollen balls, rising and falling in a now tightened sack, announced that he was ready to fuck, wanted to fuck, had fucked. I held his cock for the first time, moved down the shaft, wrapped my fingers around swollen balls, moving my palm underneath to cradle them as my fingers continued on to meet my thumb, completing the circuit around his genitals that only a privileged few were ever trusted to arouse. I kissed his cock, my lips making first contact with his most private erogenous zone, then moved up the shaft and to its end, already wet, and put it in my mouth, sucking in the gooeyness that I had only recently become familiar with from someone much older. Was I violating some sacred honor, a boy sucking where only a girl should be, or even a woman? He moaned his approval, so I alternated between sucking and licking, inserting and removing, as I had been taught, his cockhead sliding across my tongue to the back of my throat, his slit delivering precum to my tastebuds, giving me the first sense of his essence that I knew he would be delivering. I continued to rub his balls, trying to coax that essence from him, to take his fluids normally reserved for reproduction. And he had fucked. He had already sent sperm on its way into a woman, to attempt their mission to continue his lineage. What was I doing here? Why was I allowed here? To this point, I had been in control of my sucking, delivering pleasures to this male, cooing like a boy, moaning like a man. The man in him took over, grabbed my head, took control. This was only going to be a cock sucking, but it was now clear sucking cock was going to be its own kind of fucking as well. A submissive can start the act, deliver initial pleasures, raise the arousal, but eventually the dominant can no longer resist taking control, must make sure the sperm is delivered to the right place. The right place reproductively is the womb, but between two boys, the DNA has to be otherwise assimilated, down the throat, or up the butt. Tom made it clear it was to go down my throat. His firm grip on my head was making it bob up and down on his cock, each time meeting an upward thrust from him as he lay on his back, his control forcing my head in place so that the cockhead could enter my throat. He was the first boy long enough to enter my throat, and I knew he would be the first boy potent enough to deliver his cum. When the pulsing started, I swallowed the cum in my mouth as fast as I could, then swallowed his cock as it delivered its sperm right into my stomach. Unlike my orgasms with a single shot of cum followed by squirts of clear liquid, he delivered his load in ropes, pulsing in my throat when he pushed in, then filling my mouth when he pulled out. I couldn't manage all of it. Some escaped onto my lips and chin, and as he pulled out completely after being fully satisfied, the cum and saliva-covered cock was wiped on my face, nose, and neck. I had been making myself drunk with desire the whole time by masturbating my own cock, and as I finally shot my load over the thoughts of the evening, the drunkenness was expressed with half-closed eyes and the flush cheeks on my cum covered face. Tom released his grip on my head, fell back into his contentment. Spent, I fell alongside him. I grabbed the nearest cloth I could find, my underwear, and wiped my face. I then proceeded to wipe Tom's cock, then area around his groin that had been slimed by my face. I massaged his stomach and chest until I came back to face level. To my complete surprise, he grabbed my head, pulled my face into his, and held his lips to mine, exploring with his tongue, kissing with his lips. I let him lead, into the realm I had reserved for love; I did not push him away as I had done when my counselor had tried to violate this place. We were more than two boys getting off. We had exchanged sensuousness, affection, consoling, kindness ... love. "I've never had anyone care so much for me, not even my girl." Tom said, pulling me into an embrace, running his fingers through my hair. Once again, I put my head onto his chest to hear his heartbeat, this time the tension gone from both our bodies. Once again I fell asleep listening to its music, this time in his embrace. Comments and suggestions are welcomed and appreciated: marianasdeep4@hushmail.com I usually respond, but when I go for long periods without writing, I find my hushmail expired. We're up to version 4 of the e-mail :) My other stories are available at: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#marianasdeep