WARNING: This story is about an affair between a boy and a young man. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.

Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

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Meeting Rebel.

By John T. S. Teller.

Part 8.

Rebel's head is tucked under your chin again, his right arm across your chest and his hand clutching your left shoulder. This seems to be his favourite snuggling position. It's yours too, because your right hand has easy access to his cute bum, and it's now under the cotton soccer shorts and underpants, fondling the soft cheeks of his buttocks. He's breathing easily; no doubt, thinking. So are you. What's just happened between you was so easy after all. You wanted it; Rebel wanted it, and there have been no hiccups. After the initial shyness, Rebel gave himself completely, even to the point where he was prepared to reveal his most intimate parts. The fondling of his penis you expected once the loving began, but when Rebel gave himself to you completely, you knew then that he'd thought all this out well before he came. Oral stimulation of the anus by another male is a true homosexual act. Only anal penetration exceeds it. Will he want that? You have no idea. He's not even tried to stimulate you in any way other than biting your neck, but even that was an act of self-gratification when he was aroused.

He's thinking along the same lines as you, because he lifts his head and looks into your eyes when he asks, "Do you want me to do you now?"

      You kiss his nose, squeeze his buttocks, smile at him, and say, "Not really."

      He looks surprised. "Why?"

      "I don't want anything to spoil what we're doing now. I'm comfortable. Are you?"

      He nods. "But it's not fair on you."

      You smile at him. "Another day... when we're in a different situation, if you want to that is. Doing me would be a messy business, and I don't want anything to spoil what you've just had." You kiss his nose again. "Have you had enough?"

      He lifts his head higher and plants a small kiss on your lips. "I have for now, but I'll do you if you want to."

      You grin at him. "No. Let's watch the end of the race. It's almost over by the looks of it. I think your boyfriend is going to win it."

      Rebel turns around and watches the cars on their final lap under the control of the safety car. Then he looks at you, and says, "My boyfriend?"

      You grin at him. "I thought you fancied Vettel?"

      He grins. "I do. He's really cute."

      You decide to tease him. "Would you wear the KISS MY ASS shirt for him?"

      He buries his head under your chin again, and giggles. "Probably."

      "You're making me jealous!"

      Another giggle. "Good! Serves you right for teasing me."

      "Was it nice?"

      "Was what nice?"

      "Me doing what you invited me to do? KISS MY ASS it said, so I did." Rebel protects himself even more by burrowing his head even deeper under your chin, and at the same time, grabs your shoulder again. He doesn't answer, so you ask again, "Was it nice?"

      You feel his head nod. Then he mumbles, "Was it nice for you?"

      You kiss his hair. "I'm gay, and that particular part of you is as beautiful as any other. For me, it's probably the sexiest part of your sexy little body."

Rebel's reaction to that is to hug me even tighter, and chuckle, "Only probably?"

"Uhuh! It's a toss up between that and that gorgeous thing sprouting between your legs."

More chuckles. "It's not very big."

"It's big enough for me." You watch Vettel take the chequered flag. "Your boyfriend has just won."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Who is then?"

"You are. What time do you want me to go home?"

You look at the clock. "It's three-thirty-five. What time to do you have to be home?"

"About five. Six if I tell mum I forgot what time it was."

You kiss his soft hair and absorb his boyish smell. "Shall we do some more weeding?"

Rebel sits straight up and stares into your face. "No! The deal was the afternoon was mine!"

You laugh. "I forgot. What do you want to do now then?"

He grins. "Show me your bedroom."

You give him a puzzled look. "What do you want to see that for?"

He giggles. "I want to see where I am at night when you're thinking about me."

"Who says I think about you at night?"

More giggles. "I know you do. I knew you wanted the first time I saw you."

"And how did you know that?"

"I could tell by the way you were looking at me."

"Was I that obvious?"

"Yes. Could you tell what I was thinking when you first saw me?"

"No, of course not. What were you thinking?"

Rebel's getting shy again, and he folds himself back into his favourite cuddling position. "I wanted you the same as you wanted me."

"And are you pleased you got me?"

He nods under my chin. "Now can we go and see your bedroom?"

Again you push him away. "Go upstairs then. I need a pee. I'll have one in the downstairs toilet. If you need one, use the bathroom upstairs." 

**********

When Rebel has gone upstairs, you take a pee, and then lock the doors and open the curtains. The car is in the garage, so if anyone should call, it will look like you're out. Why are you doing this? Because you know that when you're with Rebel in your bedroom, and he's had a decent rest from his last climax, most probably he'll want more. He's at that age when his hormones are literally buzzing, and he'll want more of the same if he's in the most intimate part of your home. You're excited again, and sexually aroused when you make the preparations: another Coke for Rebel and a nice cold beer from the fridge. It's warm in that bedroom, and if Rebel wants what you want, you're going to need something to cool you down.

      The moment you walk into the bedroom, you know you were right. There's no sign of Rebel in the flesh, just a large hump under your summer duvet, and his clothes scattered on the floor by the side of your bed. You sit on the bed and tickle the hump, and Rebel giggles. When you've worked out how he's lying, you concentrate on trying to tickle him where you shouldn't. He's giggling like mad, and trying to stop you, but every move he makes, you counter it. You go for his cock, and he holds it with his hands: so you then grope his buttocks, and he tries to roll away. Finally, his head emerges from under the duvet, and he grins at you. You grin at him, and say, "I thought you said you just wanted to look at the bedroom."

      He emerges even more, lies with his head on your pillows, giggles, and says, "I was tired."

      You counter him with, "Do you want to go to sleep?"

      He shrugs his shoulders. "You've woken me up now."

      "So?"

      Rebel puts his hands behind his head. "I thought you might want to join me."

      You grin at him. "What for? I'm not sleepy, and you said you'd had enough downstairs."

      He grins. "That was downstairs. This bed has made me feel sexy again."

      You tease him. "I don't believe you."

      He has a really mischievous look in his beautiful blue eyes when he quickly flips the duvet down just enough to reveal his erection, and like quicksilver, pulls it up again, and wearing that beautiful, naughty-boy grin on his face, says, "Now do you believe me?"

      You laugh, nod, and lift the duvet to get in bed with him. He holds it down and looks with mock anger into your face. You ask, "What's the problem now?"

       He points to your clothes. "You can't get in here with your clothes on! It's not fair. I haven't got any on." Then he grins. "Are you shy?"

      You are. This will be the first time you've ever been naked with a beautiful boy, but you're going to have to overcome your shyness if this affair is to continue. So you act as if you're not; stand up, strip off your clothes, and stand naked before him with your own erection jutting up at a jaunty angle because you're so highly aroused at the thought of lying naked with him. Rebel isn't looking at your face now, he's staring at your twenty centimetres of hard gristle and swollen tissue, and there's a look of wonder in his eyes when you pull the duvet back and get into bed with him. Immediately, he rolls over towards you, wraps his arms around your neck, pushes his body against yours, and for the first time since you set eyes on him, you're 99% certain that Rebel is gay. His looks and reactions to your strong, male body has revealed himself for what he truly is, and you're thinking how wonderful it is that at last you've found that elusive boy who loves men rather than boys his own age.

      You knew his hormones were working well, but you didn't realise just how active they were. Rebel loses any vestige of pretence or shyness, and his breathing is shallow and his jaw is shaking when he pushes you over onto your back and lies on top of you, rolling his abdomen against your swollen knob, and at the same time rubbing his own small erection around the pubic hair at the base of your cock and testicles. He's so worked up that he wants to see what he's doing, so he pulls away from you and looks down while he's rotating his slender body against you. You help him by grasping his buttocks, and you're enjoying the feeling of those young muscles flexing in your hands as he applies pressure to rub his cock against you. The feelings build, and, with a very dry throat, you have to say, "I think you'd better stop that before I make a mess all over you!"

      You expect Rebel to stop, but it has the opposite effect on him. He lifts his head and looks into your eyes. Then he shakes it. "No... it's what I want!"

      You stare at him, right into the eyes that are filled with lust. Unblinking, he stares deep into you, and you can see the need. Then you look at his sweating brow that is partly covered by a few locks of blonde hair; back at the beautiful eyes; at the wonderfully cute freckles each side of his cute nose; at the full, sexy lips that are open, and very slowly, you lift your head from the pillow and bring it towards his. He knows what you want, because he breaks the gaze into your eyes and looks at your own lips. It's as if it's in slow motion as your lips touch his, and there's only a short moment of hesitancy before you kiss. His arms lock around your neck, his mouth crushes yours; his tongue licks wildly inside your mouth, and you crush and rotate his body against you until the feelings spill over into complete ecstasy. You're not sure what's happening with Rebel's feelings, but judging by the noises he's making, and by the overflowing of passion from him, you think he's having another orgasm when your semen begins to pump from you into the gap between your writhing bodies. And because your bodily fluids act as a lubricant between you, the sensuality is greatly heightened by the ease at which you can rotate his abdomen in long, circular movements to enhance the final throes of the most wonderful climax of your life.

      You're hot, sweaty, and sticky when you both relax. The passionate kiss has gone, but now you and Rebel are exchanging very special ones: those of affection, and his eyes are aglow with the same feelings. You kiss his beautiful nose, and ask, "Are you alright?"

      He nods. "I've never felt better. Have you?"

      "No."

      Rebel stares right into your eyes, and asks, "Do you love me?"

To be continued...

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.