Date: Fri, 17 Jul 2015 08:09:09 -0400 From: Lytle Peters Subject: Matt Clarke, Part 3, Adult-Youth I'm sitting in the stall in the men's room at the public library, waiting. It's 3:02. I've scanned the walls for new art work and messages, but there's only a generic "Suck my Dick" scrawled in a fairly young looking script. Adding "I'd love to" and an email address below it, I slip the permanent marker back into my jeans pocket. Nothing will come of that, but then again, one never knows. A week ago I'd never have figured to be sitting here waiting as I am for Matt. The hallway, which leads to the right from the building's main door and before you even open the doors to the library itself, has been completely quiet since I walked down it to the door marked Men, opened that squeaky door, opened the inner door another five feet inside, and then stepped into the small bathroom, with its sink and two urinals on the left and its single stall perpendicular to that wall. The designer has kindly positioned the stall door so that if one peeks through the right side crack, one is directly in line with the lip of the closest urinal. This foresight means that the users of the facility have not been required to start excavating peep holes and otherwise damaging the city property. It was precisely this arrangement in another men's room many years ago when I was the boy instead of the man. The phone was ringing when I walked in the door and threw my backpack onto the bench. I hurried to pick it up. "Hello?" I said in my 5th grade voice. "Hi, Jackie," said someone whose voice I didn't recognize. A man's voice, definitely not one of my friends. "Hi?" I said, wondering if I should know the person on the other end of the line. "Hi," he said again, then "How's my favorite boy today?" "OK. Who is. . ." "You gonna come see me tonight?" "Do what?" "You gonna come see me tonight? I'd like that a lot." There was something weird about his voice, kind of breathless. "No," I said, "I don't even. . ." "That's too bad, Jackie. I was hoping you'd come see me tonight. You and I could have a lot of fun together." "Fun?" "Yeah, fun. You know what kind of fun I'd like to have with you, Jackie?" "N-No." "I'd like to start by taking all of your clothes off, Jackie, and then playing with your hard little pecker." "My. . . what. . . no." "Come on, Jackie. Everyone knows you're the kind of boy who loves to have his pecker played with." "No," I said instinctively, even though he was certainly right about me. All the older boys in the neighborhood came to see me when they were horny. And some of the younger ones too. But all the older boys knew that Jackie was always willing to play. "And you know what part of you I'd most like to play with?" "No. What?" "Your," he hesitated and then in his dirtiest sounding voice, said, "pussy." That knocked me back on my heels. "I - I don't have one. I'm a boy." He actually chuckled. "Oh, you have a pussy, Jackie. And I'd love to put my finger and then my tongue inside it and make you feel really really good." "I'm a boy." "But you're a special boy, Jackie. You've got a hot little pecker and balls in the front and a sweet little pussy in the back." "I -- I'm -- I. . ." "And if you'd come see me tonight, I'd show you how good I could make all of them feel." "I'm -- I don't know. . ." "Come on, Jackie. You do know how much you'd like to have your pecker and your pussy played with. You want to come see me, don't you, Jackie." "But I'm not even sure. I mean, I'm not. Who is this?" I realized my pecker was hard. "This is someone who knows how to make your pecker and your boy pussy feel really, really good. Someone who knows how to make a boy go crazy with pleasure, Jackie. You know you want it, don't you, Jackie. Your pecker is hard right now, isn't Jackie, just thinking about it." "Yes," I said before I realized what I'd admitted. "Yeah, I knew it. Come see me, Jackie, and let me do wonderful things for you." "Well, maybe. . . " "That's a good boy. I can make you feel so much better than any of your friends can. I know how to please a boy." "Well. . ." And against all reasoning, I ended up meeting the man. In a restroom very much like the one where I'm sitting now. And he was right. He did know all the right places to touch and tickle and lick, places I'd never imagined could or should be touched and tickled and licked. My cock has been growing with the replaying of this memory. And then I hear the unmistakable squeak of sneakers on the linoleum floor in the hallway. They are getting closer, and then they stop. I hear nothing for probably five seconds. Then the outer door to the men's room begins its grating but useful squeak as it opens slowly. I hear it close again, but the inner door hasn't opened. Did the owner of those sneakers turn and leave? Or is he standing between the two doors and trying to make a decision? After what feels like a minute of silence, the inner door opens and then draws itself closed again. I can see nothing from where I'm sitting. I force myself to breathe slowly. Then someone is standing in front of the urinal. I lean slightly to the right so that my eye is in line with the door crack. It's a boy with long brown hair falling over his ears, wearing a red t-shirt and washed-out navy blue sport shorts and sneakers, no socks. He lifts his t-shirt over a flat tummy with his right hand so that he can hook the elastic waistband in the front of his shorts with his left hand and pull them down enough to free his boy parts. Instinctively, I draw in my breath. Those boy parts are on display right outside my door crack, and they are beautiful. A creamy white shaft of maybe two inches with a gorgeous pale purple mushroom head, not hard but not flaccid either, this protruding above a tight smooth hairless ball sack. The boy is just standing there showing off his goods, not peeing. This has to be Matt. I clear my throat. The boy looks to his right and we make blue-eyes-to-blue-eyes contact through the stall door crack. "Why don't you bring that in here, Matt, and let me see him up close," I say quietly. At the same time, I reach and unlatch the stall door. It swings back a few inches, inviting. A few seconds later, the boy pushes the door open enough to step inside, still holding his shorts down and still with his boy cock and balls fully exposed. He looks at my six inches and says, "Yours is really BIG." I force myself to look Matt in the eye. "Yours is absolutely perfect." "No it's not." "Yes it is. It's beautiful. Latch that door behind you and come here." When he steps between my knees, I slide his shorts to his ankles in a single smooth motion. Running my hands up the backs of his shockingly smooth thighs and across his butt, I hook his tshirt at the bottom and pull it up and over his head, mussing his brown locks. I hang the tshirt on the door handle and then take in the sight of a practically naked 11-year-old standing before me. Perfectly proportioned. Perfectly smooth. Perfectly beautiful. "Wow," I whisper, "Look at you." He smiles shyly as I wrap my arms around him and pull his belly into my face. Velvet doesn't begin to describe the softness of his flesh. That's when I realize he's trembling. "It's OK," I say, "No one's gonna hurt you." And I plant a kiss on his belly button to lighten the mood, but at the same time I brush a finger along the underside of his boycock. It twitches in response, so I do it again. "You like that?" I ask and look up into his baby blues. He nods. "Then let's do it some more." My finger finds his shaft again. It's rock hard now, so hard that it is nearly touching his belly. I run my finger up it to the sensitive head, then down and across his ball sack. Matt exhales as though he's been holding his breath. Maybe he has. "Do you mind if I kiss it?" I look up and he's shaking his head No. So I move my hands to his hips and lean down and plant a tender kiss right on the head, my lips slightly parted so that he gets hot breath and a touch of tongue. Again he exhales. Hearing no objection, I go in for another, this time with lips open so that I slip the mushroom inside my mouth and tickle it with my tongue. Matt rises up on his toes. "Again?" He nods and whispers, "Yes, please." As I take his mushroom head again into my lips, I slide them about halfway down, my hands reach around to squeeze his buns, and my tongue flicks across his sensitive spot. "Oh jeez. . ." My lips slide all the way down to the base of his little shaft, my tongue licking round and round his sensitive head. I suck it. Then I slide my lips up so that just the mushroom head is in my mouth, then down to the base again, tongue swirling continuously. I suck it. And I feel Matt standing on his toes. "You like that?" "Oh jeez. . .," he says again. "Nobody ever did that." "Do you want me to suck your hard cock some more?" "Yessss," he says instantly. This time my lips slide all the way to the base, then up as far as the head, then back to the base, then up to the head. I'm sucking it deeply. I move a bit lower and my tongue swipes his tight ball sack. My fingers find his little dime-sized nipples and tweak them. They're hard but not terribly responsive. Give him another year or two and I'll have them vibrating like violin strings. I'm lapping at his balls, my hands back on his buns. Then back to work on his pulsing cock, down the shaft, up to the head, swirling tongue around the head, then down the shaft. I suck it. Making love to his boy cock. I suck it deeply. My fingers start to caress his crack, probing a little deeper each time my lips reach the bottom of his shaft. His crack is a little moist with a day's sweat. He hasn't showered. He's come straight from school. I bring my right hand around so that I can smell his essence. I want to eat it. I keep working up and down his cock, sucking it. Making love to it. Matt's head is thrown back. He is giving himself over to this moment. I pull off the cock for a second, then lean back in and start to swirl my tongue just around the mushroom head. Over and over and over and over. Around and around. Always swiping across his sensitive spot on the underside, which isn't the underside now as the boy cock is so erect. Making love to his cock head. And slipping my middle finger deeper into his moist crack. He's not resisting that touch. I push the whole cock into my mouth again and suck hungrily. He rises up on his toes. My finger finds his rosebud. I'm mouth-riding his cock now and he's letting me tickle his boy pussy lips. We suck and tickle for at least another minute. Then I pull off. "Step out of these shorts, Matt. And turn around." "Wh-Why?" he asks even as he's doing it. I lay his shorts across the toilet paper dispenser. "Bend over just a little," I say, as my hands spread his cheeks. I decide on a direct approach. I plunge my tongue deep into his crack as far down as I can reach, then give his whole crack a big lick all the way up to the top. Like someone trying to catch the drips from a melting ice cream cone. "Ohhh, oh my gosh, nobody's ever. . ." I'm already pushing my tongue deep into his moist, slightly smelly crack. He bends over as though touching his toes and my tongue finds his rosebud. I tongue tickle it madly. I'm pulling his cheeks wide apart, licking his smelly crack. My nose is now buried there in his boy essence, my tongue playing with his rosebud, probing it, probing it, probing it. I reach around with my right hand and my fingers find his cock again. I begin to jerk it off in time with my tongue probes. I can hear the boy breathing hard. His rosebud opens slightly and my tongue slides inside him, then back, then in, back, then in. Tongue fucking his hot boy pussy lips. Jerking off his cock. Tongue fucking his boy pussy. He's actually panting now. My lips are caressing his pussy lips, now sucking his ass. Now my tongue deep up inside him, making love to his boy pussy. Still jerking his cock. Sucking his hot little ass. Eating his hot ass juices. Then I pull out suddenly. He starts to stand up again with a "Wh-why. . ." but I turn him back around and plunge back down on his hard cock. He lets out a long "Ohhhhhh" as I suck it deeply and lap my tongue around and around and around the mushroom head. Matt is standing on his toes. Then he lets out a little squeal and I feel his cock pulsing in my mouth, trying to shoot the cum that is still at least another year away. I stop swirling my tongue, knowing the cock is too sensitive now. We are frozen in tableau for what seems like minutes, his cock buried in my hot mouth. Pulsing. Then I feel him settle back onto his feet. Only he keeps settling. He drapes himself across my back, crushing my head in his tummy and groin. He lies across my back, breathing deeply. "Wowww," I hear him whisper airily. "Wow indeed," I try to say but I'm smothered in his hot belly. When Matt finally moves to stand, I hold onto his hips. He won't at first make eye contact. I am grinning at him. Eventually he looks at me sheepishly, embarrassed at what we've done? At how much he has given in to the pleasure? I can't help grinning. He gives me a little smile. "You're incredible," I say, reaching over to give his still half-hard cock a squeeze. "Glad you came?" He nods. "I could do that with you over and over," I say, giving him a wink. He reaches for his shorts and says breathlessly, "How about tomorrow. . . ." ********** Comments to lytle.peters@gmail.com and, as always, if you enjoyed this story, or even if you didn't, please make a donation to keep the Nifty site going. 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