From: Mark Subject: ST: Jeromy loves soccer (M/t/t/t) (oral) (WS) Date: 08 Jan 1999 00:00:00 GMT ------------------------------------------------------------ AN: Usual disclaimers. This is a work of fiction which depicts willing and consensual sexual relations between a man and teenage boys. Do not read if you may be offended or if this material may be illegal in your jurisdiction. All names are fictional and any resemblance to any other person is purely coincidental. Apart from downloading and printing for personal use, this work remains the property of the author. ------------------------------------------------------------ Jeromy loves Soccer (Part 1) He's one of those boys you couldn't keep your eyes off. He started school here as most boys, a cute little twelve year old in Year 7. Over the past couple of years I've watched him grow, just slowly, into early adolescence and I get a hard-on when he's within sight. Jeromy Lehmann was born in Freiburg, Germany and emigrated with his parents when he was two years old. Bilingual, of course, and with those classic features: high cheek bones, blond hair you just want to run your fingers through, and clear, unblemished skin. The boy just turns me on so much. I want to spend some time with him, at my place. We can talk about my travels to Germany - I've got heaps of souvenirs and memorabilia from my trips there. We could talk about books - I know he likes teen fiction and at lunch break he's usually in the library reading. Jeromy loves soccer! He's always talking about Bayern- Munchen, and about the up-coming world cup. But I don't know much about soccer. I did know, however, that Germany was going to play England in the world cup qualifiers, and the only way it was going to be broadcast was on cable TV. Just before he left the library on Friday I asked him about the match. "Hey Jeromy, are you going to watch the qualifier tomorrow night?" "We haven't got cable," he answered, "and I don't know anyone else who's has. Are you going to watch it sir?" "Sure am," I replied. Yes, I did have cable, but I would have watched an old movie rather than a qualifying soccer match. He lingered a moment and wanted to say something, but I wasn't going to prompt him. "I suppose you want England to win," he said. "No way!" I replied, "Deutschland fur mich!" Jeromy knew I spoke a little German and every time I used it with him he smiled broadly, impressed at my effort to learn the language, which along with French was abandoned by our school ages ago and replaced with Japanese and Indonesian. "Er...," he began tentatively, "I suppose you'll tape it?" "I can't," I answered, "my video machine's getting fixed at the moment." I felt a tinge of guilt at this deliberate fib. But I was hoping like anything this conversation was leading him to my front door. "Er..., any chance of... letting me watch it too?" said Jeromy, struggling to find the words, the expression on his face anticipating a let-down. "Oh, I can't see why not," I replied indifferently. "But it won't be very interesting, just you and me. If you think you can put up with my company I don't mind. Do you know where I live, Cockatoo Street?" I gave him my address and he told me his sister would give him a lift. "Oh," I said, "and don't forget it doesn't start until midnight. But if you come around at six I'll order some pizza and we can watch some videos until it starts. And... if you want... bring an overnight bag. I've got a spare room if you want to stay over." I thought my invitation about staying overnight might have gone a little too far, but Jeromy gave me a cheeky wink instead. "Oh sir," he grinned, "Videos? I thought your video machine was getting fixed!" Gotcha! "I'll borrow one from school," I said, winking back at him while I applied that part of my DNA that gave me the ability to quickly think on my feet. I gave Jeromy a quick pat on his lower back, as close to his bottom as I could get away with. He looked me straight in the eye, winked back at me again and headed out the door. I couldn't wait until tomorrow. The next day I changed the sheets on my bed and flushed out the spa. I also went down to Safeway and stocked up on the things that boys like to snack on, as well as plenty of Coke, a beverage I can only consume if it's been assaulted by a liberal shot of Jim Beam. As I was dusting my French impressionist prints in the hallway the phone rang. "Is that you sir, Mister Ball? It's Jeromy." "Yes Jeromy, are you still coming over tonight?" "For sure, but..." "What's the problem Jeromy?" "Can I bring Damian and Aaron as well?" I felt a twinge in my groin as my rabid hormones began to swing into action. I knew exactly who these two boys were. Practically inseparable, Damian Rush and Aaron Sanders would often sit with Jeromy in the library. These were two absolutely stunning youngsters who preferred literary and artistic rather than sporting pursuits, so it didn't take long before some of their ignorant, insensitive and bigoted `classmates' started referring to them as `fags'. But our school, which prides itself on its policy of tolerance, equal opportunity and fairness, quickly took action and expelled a group of influential boys who had been taunting them. The rest of the school quickly got the message. Damian and Aaron were also in the school drama group and despite strong competition from their peers had been elected to the Junior School Congress, a representative body which formed part of the Students' Parliament. Articulate, intelligent and forthright, at fourteen years of age these boys were going to go a long way. "Damian and Aaron?" I repeated. "From 9A? Oh yes, I know them. That'll be fine. But make sure they tell their parents and to bring an overnight bag - or enough money for at taxi home." "Thanks sir," said Jeromy, "we'll be there at six." I hung up and started drooling. Damian was fair haired, blue eyed and had a cute little upturned nose. Aaron was another stunner - deep set green eyes, dark prominent eyebrows, lightly tousled reddish-brown hair and a dimple in his chin. What was the time? Only ten past two. Nearly four more hours! Just before six I was peeking through the curtains looking out to the street when I heard a car break squeakily outside the front of my tall fence. Three doors opened and slammed shut in quick succession and the three boys, all with their overnight bags, made their way through my front gate as the car with its noisy muffler drove off. I pushed back the curtain and waited near the front door, my heart palpitating. Why was I so nervous? I felt like I was on my first date! The doorbell rang and I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I opened the door, hoping they wouldn't notice the bulge in my pants. Three gorgeous teenage boys stood in front of me, smiling nervously. "That's what I like to see, punctuality!" I said, "come on through." They greeted me with the usual "hello sir" as they wiped their shoes on the doormat and came into the hallway. Jeromy led the way, and I put my hand gently on his shoulder as I guided them into the lounge. "Sit wherever," I said as Jeromy took one of the single seaters and Damian and Aaron chose the comfortable two seater sofa. "I don't wear shoes around the house so if you want to take off yours, go ahead." I think the boys took this more of a request than an offer, and I took the smelly things into the laundry. Curious, I had a closer sniff inside Jeromy's left Nike and the odour was, quite seductive I must admit. Not the stale pong you would expect, but a tantalising combination of rubber, talcum powder and fresh boy-sweat. I took another deep breath inside the right shoe, laid the three pairs on the floor and went back to the lounge room. "Coke boys?" "Yes please," was the reply. I wondered whether I should offer them some Jim Beam as well. They were only fourteen but as a responsible adult I had no intention to dope them with the stuff so they'd get off their faces. A few drinks just to help them relax, (and me as well.) "Have you boys tried this?" I came back out of the kitchen with a bottle of Beam and showed them. "My old man gets pissed... oops... drunk on that when he's had a hard day at work," said Jeromy, "I've had it in Coke It's kewl." There was that word again - `kewl'. I looked at Aaron and Damian. "I've had rum and vodka, but not that," said Aaron. "I'm allowed to have a glass of wine at dinner," said Damian, "but I wouldn't mind trying it." Good, I thought to myself. I'm in the company of some sophisticated guys tonight! Over the next couple of hours the pizzas arrived, and we ate them. We surfed the pay TV channels and there was nothing that interested them. We made small talk... "So, who do you think's going to win?" I asked... "Nice piano sir, can you play something? Asked Jeromy. I gave them my renditions of `Begin the Beguine' and `Waltzing Matilda' and I think they were impressed... `How many years have you been teaching?" asked Damian... Etcetera, etcetera. It was only eight o'clock Come on everybody! I was saying to myself. Let's loosen up! I want these guys to say something. "I must say," I said to Aaron and Damian, "I'm very impressed with your work with the Junior Congress. But I didn't think either of you were particularly interested in soccer." "I'm not really," said Damian, "but Jeromy asked me and I thought it would be good to get out of the house. Dad's been giving me a hard time lately." "Why?" I asked. "His old man wants him to join the athletics club," piped in Aaron. "But I want to watch the soccer because at our next Congress meeting on Monday everyone's going to talk about it and I don't want to seem dumb." "Do you live by yourself sir?" asked Jeromy "Yep, just me." "Your'e not married, are you sir?" he probed. "Nope." "Why don't you find a nice lady to move in with you?" he went on. This is getting good, I thought to myself. I could feel the perspiration forming. "I don't want to," I said. "I'm not really interested in living with a nice lady." I let out an audible breath, realising what I'd just said. But I wanted to say it. They had a right to know, if they were under my roof, and I thought, I hoped, I could trust them. There was a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Why don't you get a nice man instead?" asked Aaron, very matter-of-fact. "Have you seen the `personals' section in the local paper?" asked Jeromy. "They've got these sections - `Male seeking Female', `Female seeking Male' and `Seeking Same' - that's where the gay guys and lesbians advertise." I took a deep draft of Beam. It was my turn again. "I've seen those ads, but I don't think you can find someone that easily, through a newspaper ad." "Are you gay sir?" asked Damian. The three boys were now scrutinising me closely, but I didn't feel uncomfortable. The body language hadn't changed and everyone still seemed relaxed. "I know people want to put you in a category - you're either straight, gay, or bi. OK, if you want to put me in the `gay' category you can. But it's not always that simple." "What do you mean?" asked Jeromy, cocking his head sideways. "Gay means you like sex with other men, doesn't it? Have you had sex with other men?" "Sex isn't everything you know. OK, I have, but I never really liked it, not that much really." "Do you prefer boys?" asked Damian. I gave a more-or-less nod of the head and breathed out a `mmmm-yeah-mmmm'. "Is that why you became a teacher?" Asked Aaron. "No, of course not!" I raised my voice for the first time in weeks, annoyed at the naivete of his question. "Men don't become teachers to have sex with boys. It's a career, something I always wanted to do." I realised I'd used the words `sex' and `boys' in the same sentence. Where was this going to lead? "Sorry sir," apologised Aaron. "That was a silly question." I regained my composure. "No, it was a fair question from someone your age. But a lot of misguided people - adults - do actually think that way. I'm sorry I snapped." I thought any minute now they would make an excuse, ask to use the phone, and take a taxi back to their homes. "Men like sucking cock, wanking each other and fucking when they have sex, don't they?" said Jeromy, so nonchalantly that we looked at him in total surprise. I suppose having come this far, there was no point in keeping to civil language. "And there's also kissing, nibbling, massage, water sports, frottage..." I continued. "What's frottage?" asked Damian. "You rub up against the other guy and cum," explained Aaron. "Some guys do it if they don't like fucking. And water sports is where you piss over each other." We all looked at Aaron. "Lots of boys do `frottage' as well," I continued the lesson, "not necessarily with someone else, but you just rub your dick against anything soft, say a towel, your sheets in bed, or your pyjamas, your jocks, anything to soak up the cum, and when you blow it's usually a much better feeling than a normal wank." "I know," said Aaron. "It's kewl. I've been doing it for a couple of years. One day I want to try it with someone." At this point our eyes crossed paths and I'm sure he gave me the slightest of winks. But it could have been my imagination. "What's fucking like?" asked Damian. "It's a personal thing," I began. "I'm not really into it myself but a lot of guys like it. I've got some videos I can show you which, shall we say, demonstrate the technique." I went on about lubrication, condoms and safe sex but I got the impression that these boys weren't ready to start humping each other on my lounge room floor. Not at the moment, anyway. "Just talking about all this has given me a hard-on!" exclaimed Jeromy, discreetly adjusting the front of his pants. We giggled at his predicament, but then it just got a bit more serious. "Isn't it against the law?" asked Damian slowly, "I mean... you know... older guys doing it with boys?" "It's complicated, it varies from country to country, state to state; it depends on the ages involved; there are different interpretations depending on the degree of consent, or whether there's been violence. But men and teenage boys... willing and consensual... it's been going on since the Roman Empire." I left the boys to fill in the dots for themselves. And I realised I'd used the word `teenage'. What were they thinking now? "What would happen," started Jeromy, looking at me and choosing his words carefully, "if say, guys our age had, you know... sex or whatever... with you know... guys your age? I mean, would we go to jail?" "No, you wouldn't, but I would. Probably five to ten years, and probably more if the man was in a position of trust and responsibility. Which I am." "That sucks!" exclaimed Aaron. What if the younger guy, you know... wanted it?" "It doesn't matter," I hissed, "it's still against the law. "But they say it's to protect the young guy. You know, all teenagers, even boys who think they're tough, can get confused and worried about sex, so it's really up to the older guy to talk to them, to stay in contact, to listen, and to make sure they don't get depressed about things. You have to be there when they need it." "I don't want you to go to jail," said Damian sympathetically, as if I'd already been charged, convicted and sentenced. "No-one's going to jail, I can tell you now. But you know boys, what some people are like. Let's keep this conversation to ourselves. OK?" We all paused, collecting our thoughts after this cathartic experience, especially for me. The boys nodded in affirmation, but I sensed the atmosphere had changed. We had gone from trivial small talk to a serious and intimate discussion about sex and relationships between men and boys. There was no turning back, no pretending that this had not happened. My nostrils sensed something in the air, not unlike the smell from Jeromy's grubby sport shoes. These boys were just reeking with testosterone, and it was my move. It was as though I didn't think, but I clearly remember what I said. I'll never forget the look on those young boys' faces. Jeromy loves soccer (Part 2) "Hey boys, why don't we all strip off and go up to my bedroom for some fun?" Their eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and excitement. "I thought you were never going to ask!" said Jeromy I led them up to my room and I can just imagine the sense of anticipation in their horny young bodies. My heart was pounding and my dick had been leaking for the past couple of hours. Opening the door to my large bedroom, fitted with a king size bed and an en-suite with spa, I switched on the two low wattage bed lamps and we started to undress. The boys didn't hesitate, as their caps sweatshirts, pants, socks and underwear were flung and tossed in all directions, and the naked young bodies of my three youngsters were quickly revealed. Aaron was first to be totally nude, and I almost ejaculated hands free as I watched his junior sized boy-cock immediately stiffen to a four and a half inch teenage throbber before my eyes. Jeromy was next to show us his beauty, classic German features including a smallish but rock hard erection, wispy blond pubes and a smooth hairless scrotum encapsulating tightly withdrawn balls. Damian's cock was also fully stiff, almost perpendicular to his tummy when he pulled his jocks down, probably the last to strip off because he had a little difficulty extracting his erection from the elastic waistband. His dick was undoubtedly the largest of the three boys, six chunky inches of throbbing young penis, adorned with a small but dense tuft of dark pubes, and a few fuzzy strands poking from his dangling ball sack. I had to have Jeromy's cock first - I'd been waiting for over two years, you know! I wrestled him to the top of the bed and moved my head down to his gorgeous little hard-on, where I swallowed it easily and completely. I let my tongue lash the tender pink glans while my pursed lips stroked the shaft in rhythmic motions. Jeromy was writhing and groaning audibly and after only a minute I felt he was close to orgasm. Should I let him cum now, or let him delay it? Too late, as several seething blasts of Jeromy's delicious creamy semen shot into my mouth and his writhing eventually subsided. "What does it taste like?" he mumbled, almost breathlessly. I still had most of it plastered around the inside of my mouth and couldn't say anything, so I moved up to the head of the bed, smothered his small frame with my larger body, and pushed my lips against his. With a reflexive motion he opened his rosebud lips and stuck his tongue into my mouth, releasing the valve and letting his own cum leech back into his mouth. I rolled over to the side to allow Jeromy room to breathe, then invited Damian to squat over my chest. With his balls resting comfortably over my sternum, he puffed up his well developed little chest, and placed his hands on his hips with the thumbs pointing outward. The pink crown of his dick was glistening with precum, a constant bead of the transparent substance trickling from his pee hole every few seconds. "I just wanna get pulled... Just jerk me off man... Yeah I wanna cum... Grab it and pull me...!" he kept repeating, a stream of urgent requests in a voice that sounded completely different to the polite, well mannered boy from the one sitting in my lounge not ten minutes ago. He sounded like a boy possessed! As I reached up to grab his throbbing cock a small amount of piss spurted upwards in such a high arc that its downward trajectory struck the end of my bed, before falling back and splattering my face and chest. I managed to eventually take charge of his seemingly uncontrollable organ, rubbing it briefly but vigorously before a further volley, this time of warm tangy boy-cream, erupted from the slit and eventually covered most of my face. Meanwhile Aaron had been exploring me below the navel, lavishing my dick and balls with his warm wet tongue. His small mouth took in what it could of my dick, then he teased the hairs on my balls by pulling at them with his teeth. Ouch! Tracing his tongue back over my balls, then up the cock shaft and finally to the crimson crown, which he licked it as if it were an ice-on-a-stick, a few more short thrusts up and down, and that was it. I let loose a gushing load of cum which first side-swiped Aaron's now rosy cheeks, then the following blasts spurted in all directions, all of us getting a sample of the white stuff. He wiped his face on the sheet, moved up the bed then literally pushed his good friend Damian off my chest. "Remember what I said before," said Aaron, I want to try this now!" He laid his small compact frame over mine, his hard cock rubbing over my belly, then his tongue found its way into my mouth, and he just went for it. Our tongues lashing together, he humped over me for all it was worth. My fingers tickled the tight crack between his bun cheeks as the sweat poured from his horny young body. Aaron kept grunting and frenching, humping and rubbing, then gasped in relief as his explosive orgasm gushed forth, soaking my stomach. I then felt a second drenching as Aaron lay there motionless, then took a leisurely and lengthy piss over me while regaining his breath. "Can you boys grab some towels from the bathroom?" I asked. After we wiped up a bit Jeromy had quickly recovered and was in dick-sucking mode. He moved to the end of the bed and went down on his friend Damian, giving the boy's cock a generous and energetic soaking. It was as though he couldn't get enough cock in his mouth - we could see Jeromy's cheeks distend as Damian's hard boy-dick was pushed into every corner of his eager, hungry orifice. As Damian thrust around Aaron and I had to help restrain him, gently pinning his arms and legs to the bed while Jeromy worked on him furiously with his blow job. Finally the writhing boy moaned in pleasure as he blew for the second time that night, cumming first into Jeromy's mouth, then pulling out before he rubbed his spurting dick against the boy's cheek, a small amount of semen then dribbling onto the sheets. Jeromy wasn't finished yet, Aaron was next. What? So soon? But Aaron's cock was fully stiff again, so soon after his exhausting effort a little earlier with me. As Jeromy and Aaron moved into a comfortable sixty-niner at the end of the bed I turned Damian onto his stomach. Limp and spent by this stage I mounted the boy and pushed my revitalized dick between his bum cheeks. This was my version of frottage, as I slid between the warm moist crevasse for a few exhilarating moments before I blew my second load, then collapsed on top of the now sleeping Damian. At the end of the bed I heard the simultaneous groans of Jeromy and Aaron as they achieved their junior orgasms. Three teenage boys and one man, sprawled naked on a king size bed. We lay there together motionless and silent. 'What moments divine, what rapture serene.' (Cole Porter) A little later we sat in the spa, the hot bubbling foam working wonders on tender dicks and aching balls. "Tell me Jeromy, what's your fantasy?" I asked. "I want to be the mascot for the German soccer team, and in the change rooms we're all in the nude, and I'm giving their muscly bodies a rub down, sucking on their hard dicks, and then the whole team and I go into the showers where we all piss and cum over each other." "What about you, Aaron?" "I want to live on a deserted island with lots of naked boys and men, where we spend the whole time in the nude, just doing what we did tonight, but all day as well!" We all looked at Damian. He pondered for a moment, thinking of a way he could trump his two friends. "I want to go to a mega party where there are about two hundred naked guys, all walking around with hard-ons, and we have an all day and night orgy!" Not bad, I thought, this kid's got imagination - he'd be wasted in politics! "And what about you sir?" asked Jeromy. My mind roamed back to the recurring dreams I'd been having. "I want to run a naturist camp, just for teenage boys, where we would spend the days completely nude of course, swimming, playing games, having competitions, even playing soccer. And naturally we'd have heaps of other fun together like we did before. Who wants to come along?" The three boys thrust their arms into the air with a unanimous shout of "Yes!", as we giggled at our outrageous fantasies. It was nearly midnight and time to watch the qualifying match. We dried off and went down to the lounge again. We stayed naked and I moved the bigger sofa in front of the TV. Jeromy and Aaron sat on either side of me and Damian sat next to Jeromy. Aaron was pretty tired and fell asleep with his on my shoulder, while I rested my hand on Jeromy's slender thigh, stroking it gently. It was a scoreless match until half time and only Jeromy stayed awake to see the finish, then fell asleep in front of the TV with the rest of us. Later Jeromy told us that the second half was pretty one- sided and Germany won 3-1 against England. At some time during the wee small hours the night chill woke me up and we stumbled back to my bedroom for more comfortable sleeping arrangements. The next day after breakfast we took a long drive along the coast and came back through the hills. Perhaps the 'morning after then night before' might leave them with mixed feelings, or even a sense of guilt or shame. We talked a lot about what we did and they all said in their own way that it was a great night and wanted to spend more time with me. But I wondered what they were really thinking. After I dropped them each back at their homes I had time to collect my own thoughts about that night. I started thinking about the fantasies that we talked about in the spa: Jeromy's shower with the soccer players, Aaron's deserted island and Damian's mega party. And there was my fantasy - a naturist camp for boys. I'd been having dreams about this fantasy for a while now - vivid, lucid images of teenage boys enjoying themselves at a totally naked camp. I wanted to talk about those dreams with someone. I thought it was time to pay my therapist another visit. The End Postscript: A couple of weeks later my therapist, well- known sexologist Dr. Dick Testro suggested that I should share my dream experiences with other like-minded people. But I wonder? Please e-mail me if you would like to read about those fantasies. I had a lot to talk about...