Matthew & Lonny & me

Chapter two: Pink Panties

Matthew used my cell phone to call Lonny, who was enthusiastic about joining us for supper. I got on the phone to get directions to his house, so we could pick him up. He had a cute voice, and I really wondered what he looked like.

"Lonny," I asked him, "did you clear it with your mother?"

"Oh, don't worry," he answered. "She'd just as soon have me out of the way tonight."

"Still," I said, "you'd better ask."

I heard him yell, "Ma? Can I go have supper with Matthew tonight?"

Off in the background, I heard a woman's voice call back, "Whaddaya think? Ask if you can stay over."

All Lonny said, though, was "She says it's okay."

Matthew skipped out ahead as we cut our hike short and headed back to the car. Clearly, he was a very happy boy. As for me, I was really curious to meet Matthew's heartthrob.

Lonny lived in one of the seedier sections of town. I pulled into his driveway behind a decrepit older Ford and a much newer Chevy truck tricked out with roll bars and oversized wheels. I meant to go up to the door to say hello to Lonny's mother, but Lonny darted out of the house even before I came to a complete stop.

"Hey," he said.

"You can have the front," Matthew announced. "I'll sit in the back with Bam Bam."

Bam Bam, of course, introduced himself with enthusiastic dog kisses. I just said, "Hi, I'm Billy."

"Hi, Billy," Lonny said as he tried to keep Bam Bam's tongue out of his mouth. "Thanks for getting me out of there. Craig's there, and he's a total asshole."

I didn't get to follow up on that comment, because Matthew had to tell Lonny about our hike, instantly describing how we walked up the stream to our "secret" spot, then describing how Bam Bam chased the deer, and then jabbering on about anything else that entered his head. I watched Lonny out of the corner of my eye as I drove, and listened to his remarks.

"Lucky Matthew," I thought. "This kid is as gay as the month of May."


Later, as I grilled burgers out on the deck, I watched the two boys playing "monkey in the middle" with Bam Bam. They didn't look like kids who would hang out with each other. Matthew is small for his age, and kind of skinny, except for his cute, round bottom. If somebody told you he was nine instead of eleven, you wouldn't have doubted it for a minute. His brown hair was cut short and spiked up on top with gel. There were a few freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Lonny, only a year older, was six or seven inches taller. Although he wasn't fat, he had more meat on his bones than Matthew, and I couldn't help noticing how his nipples puffed out his t-shirt. His dirty blond hair was almost shoulder length, and his eyes were piercingly blue. What riveted my attention most, though, were his effeminate mannerisms. "One day," I thought, "that boy will make one hell of a drag queen."

We ate inside, in the kitchen, and I poured myself a glass of red wine. To my surprise, Lonny picked up the bottle and topped off his half emptied glass of cola.

"Hey," I said, "you're a little young for that."

"Don't worry," he said, "I won't barf. And if I'm buzzed a little when I get home, I won't mind it as much."

"What's going on there, Lonny? Can you talk about it?"

"Easy," he answered. "You saw the truck? That belongs to Craig, and he'll be boinking my mother all night. If we're lucky, he'll leave her enough money to buy us some groceries for next week."

"And that's why," I said, "she wanted you to ask if you could stay over."

Lonny looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you heard that."

Matthew, whose expression was somewhere between confusion and dismay, suddenly perked up. "Billy! Can we stay over? Can we both stay over?"

That presented a problem. "I'm sorry, Matthew, it's against the rules. I'd be in big trouble with Hillary and Amanda if they found out."

"I won't tell them," he insisted.

"Like you didn't tell anybody about my secret place in the woods?"

He drooped. "I'm sorry. I thought it would be okay just to tell Lonny."

"Well, it was okay," I said. "But what about your grandma?"

"I'll just tell her I forgot my key. She'd be asleep before you got me home, and she won't wake up 'til tomorrow, even if I ring the doorbell a hundred times. And she won't tell Hillary and Amanda because she likes you."

I thought about it. I was very, very tempted. Okay, you guessed it. I succumbed to temptation, the boys jumped for joy, and I got a very nice hug from Matthew. He left a message on his grandmother's answering machine, just in case she woke up before I got him home.

While I was putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I caught Lonny mixing more red wine and cola, in both his own glass and in Matthew's. "Hey, careful," I warned him. "Barfing is strictly against the rules."

Lonny grinned at me. "I just put a little in Matthew's, cause he's not used to it."

"If he tosses his cookies," I said, "you have to clean it up."

In all truth, the idea of them getting a little tipsy sort of appealed to me, but I also felt a little guilty. I took care of that by pulling the vodka bottle out of the freezer and pouring myself a rather large drink. For a mixer, I used a squirt of lime juice. When that one was gone, a minute or two later, I poured another. By the time I'd finished cleaning up the kitchen, I was feeling pretty good.

"Yo, Billy," Lonnie asked, "whersh your TV?"

"Whersh?" I shook my finger at him. "I thought you were used to it."

Both boys thought that was incredibly funny.

"There's one in the guest room, where you guys will be sleeping," I continued, "but I keep the big screen in my bedroom. That's mostly where I watch it."

"Then let's watch there," said Matthew. "Come on, Bam Bam!"

"Hang on," I told him. "No dogs allowed on my bed. He sheds like crazy, and sometimes he really stinks. Anyway, look at him. He's worn out, and all he wants to do is sleep on his dog bed."

"Aww!" Matthew was disappointed.

"You're lucky I'll let you on my bed. Dump those dirty shorts in the guest room. It's just us guys, so we can hang out in our underwear."

I heard them laughing in the guest room as I stripped down to my boxers, lay down on the bed, and flipped through the channels on the TV. It seemed to be taking them a long time to lose their outer garments, and the laughter was getting louder. Then Matthew appeared at my bedroom door, naked except for his tighty whities. He was still giggling.

"Okay, what's up?" I asked.

He giggled harder. "We found your underpants!"

I didn't have time to say "huh," because Lonny appeared behind Matthew, dressed in a pair of pink nylon girl's panties with little white flowers around the elastic waistband. I will tell you right off the bat that they weren't mine -- exactly. They had appeared a few months earlier, folded inside a quilt I'd taken to the laundromat because it was too big to fit in my home machine. Okay, I'd kept them to feed a little fantasy I enjoyed from time to time -- and now the fantasy was coming true. Lonny struck a pose, and burst into song.

"Let me entertain you! Let me make you smile..."

Just the fact that 12-year-old Lonny knew all the words to a song from the musical Gypsy, which played on Broadway in the early sixties, would have been enough to make me certain he was gay. Of course, the fact that he was prancing around my bedroom in pink panties was also a bit of a giveaway.

"...And we'll have a real good time, yes sir! We'll (bump) have (bump) a real (grind) good (grind) TIME!"

As he finished his song, he launched himself at me, and landed on me at right angles, with his crotch on my belly and his round, pantied ass poking up. Happy I'd had a couple of drinks, and even happier that he'd had a couple of drinks, I put one arm over his back and the other over his legs, holding him in place.

"Oh," I exclaimed, "what a cute little panty bottom! Are they a good fit?" I moved a hand to his nylon clad cheeks and gave them a squeeze. "Oooh, those feel so nice, don't they? Matthew, come over here and see how nice Lonny's panties feel when you rub them."

Lonny was laughing, and not at all trying to escape. His panties got a little tighter as he popped a boner against my stomach, and he had to reach down to adjust himself. I squeezed his buns again, and rubbed my hand up and down his crack. His stiffie throbbed, and he pushed it against me. I figured it felt like about three inches, and a little later I learned my estimation was right.

Matthew, though, was hesitating, still standing at the door. A little bone was tenting his tighty whities, but not very far. He really was young for his age.

"It's okay," I assured him. "See?" I rubbed up and down Lonny's crack again, inciting a little humping action. Lonny was loving it. Matthew approached slowly, and climbed onto the bed. He held out one hand, but still hesitated, so I took hold of his hand and placed it on one of Lonny's plump mounds. He rubbed.

"Both hands," I said. "He likes the way it feels." Matthew put his other hand in place, and began a slow, gentle massage. Moving into a more comfortable position, he sat on Lonny's legs, and continued. I reached up and stroked Matthew's back. He looked at me with a face filled with joy and amazement.

Judging by the action on my stomach, Lonny was enjoying himself very much. "Hmm," I said, "let's make you a little sexier." I drew the leg holes of his panties together and pulled them up into his crack, creating something like a thong, and giving Matthew access to a lot more naked flesh. Matthew's eyes grew wider. His face dropped closer and closer to Lonny's white cheeks. I could see him struggling to restrain himself, his lips barely an inch away from his friend's deliciousness.

"Oh, hell," I thought. I put a hand on the back of Matthew's head, and pushed his face the rest of the way down. He let out a little gasp, and buried his nose in the spot where Lonny's cheeks and thighs came together, then rolled his head back and forth.

Suddenly, Lonny squirmed, giggling. Matthew pulled his face away, probably thinking he'd gone too far.

"Tickled?" I asked.

"He... he licked me!" giggled Lonny. Matthew's face turned bright red.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" I suggested.

"It felt weird."

"Weird, but good," I concluded for him. Lonny giggled again, nodding.

"Matthew," I said, "it's time for him to lose those panties. I think they're getting way too tight."

I pulled down on the waistband in back, and reached under him to ease the front waistband past his very, very stiff little winkie. "Go on, Matthew," I instructed, "pull them all the way off." Matthew did as instructed.

"Okay," I said, "now you can go back to playing with Lonny's hot little hiney. Right, Lonny?"

"Uh huh," Lonny sighed. "That feels real good."

Matthew needed no further invitation. He dove right in, kissing, nibbling, and working his tongue. Lonny was humping away like mad, so I managed to work him down my body so that his thrusting cocklet was mashing against my own erection -- and, yes, I did manage to get my drawers down in the process. Then I just lay back, watching and feeling the boys do their thing.

Matthew made little groaning sounds as his tongue darted in and out of his friend's ass crack, and Lonny was panting as if he'd just run five miles. Funny, I thought, how a kid who really didn't have a clue what gay guys actually do managed to independently invent rimming. And judging by Lonny's response, Matthew had found as receptive a partner as he ever would encounter.

Lonny humped harder and harder, faster and faster. I felt his little dick start to throb harder, and his whole body stiffened, then began to twitch as he had a very powerful dry orgasm. He clenched his ass cheeks so tight, I don't think Matthew could have pulled his nose loose even if he'd wanted to. Then he shook a couple of times, and relaxed. Matthew came up for air.

"Hey," said Lonny, reaching under himself and feeling around our two softening dicks, "did I squirt? Did I finally squirt?"

"Sorry, sweetie," I said, "not yet. That's from me."