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My Own Adventures in Paradise

My story begins in at the dawn of time, well actually in the first few years of the great `Baby Boom'! Thinking back, I seem to recall always being fascinated by men. My earliest memories are all of men, my dad, my uncles, seeing them in bathing suits down at the shore was strangely extremely attractive to me. Why, I didn't know, but I took every opportunity to catch a glimpse.

The attraction to men grew as I got older and I even started to notice other boys, when I eight we moved to the suburbs like thousands of other American families, escaping the congestion and heat of the cities. My grandmother was horrified that my parents were taking me and my siblings `out into the country', for heaven's sake, it was only five miles from her house!

So he I was, in August of '58 in a new house, having to make new friends. That wasn't such a hard thing to do; the still unpaved streets were filled with kids my age. Starting school in September I had already become part of group of boys my age and in less than a month forgot about my friends in the city. The school year flew by and before I knew it we were turning in books and picking up our report cards.

This was my favorite time of the year, I loved going to the shore with my parents on the weekends, my grandparent's home had a large living room and dining room, where at night mattresses were brought down from the attic and we all got to sleep on the floor. It also meant more chances to see my father and uncles in their bathing suits. Another year had passed, and with it my interest in the male body and its parts grew exponentially. During one of visits I went to into the outdoor shower, I opened the door and there was my uncle, just pulling up his shorts, I got a quick glimpse of his cock.

I just said, "Sorry Uncle Nick," and ran out of the stall. The quick glimpse was burned into my memory and I stored it away for the times when I was alone and could indulge in my favorite activity, rubbing my cock against my mattress until my body tingled down to my toes.

The summer flew by and all too soon it was time to go back to school. The big change this year was I would be starting fifth grade at a new school. Our parish had opened its own school and about half of our neighborhood was attending. Which made me very happy, it was bad enough I was going to have to spend all day with Sister Regina Agnes, my extremely stern catechism teacher from last school year, at least I would have a few buddies to make it bearable.

It was on a Saturday late in September of 1959, my ten year old life was about to change forever, funny thing was I didn't know it at the time. My friend Robert and I were going door to door selling Christmas cards and wrapping paper, a fundraiser for our fledgling new school.

As we made our way around, peddling our wares, Robert and I would take turns making the sales pitch. When we got to the Morgan's house it was his turn. We hoped we were the first there, the Morgan's had only just moved into the neighborhood, and we knew from our mothers that they were not Catholic, and didn't have any school age children, just three little girls.

Robert rang the doorbell and it was answered by Mrs. Morgan, Robert explained why we were there and she invited us in to look over the samples. Leading us into the living room, she sat on the sofa and Robert sat next to her, I just stood next to Robert. As he was going over our pre-arranged sales pitch while showing the samples I stood by looking around the living room and happen to look down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Our new suburban neighborhood had three styles of houses; Bi-Level, Split-Level and Colonial. The Morgan's house was a Bi-Level which was sometimes called a raised ranch, having the three bedrooms and a bath on the same level as the kitchen, living, and dining rooms. The lower level had another bedroom/office with a large family room and another bath.

Looking down the hallway, I was lucky enough to catch Mr. Morgan crossing form the bedroom to the bathroom in just his underwear, not the regular boxers like my dad wore, but tight white briefs like mine. He stopped and looked at me, I'm sure he must have noticed me staring because he kind of just stood there for a minute. He looked just like my favorite TV star, Gardner McKay, and just like Gardner he was tall and handsome, as I was staring he winked at me and walked into the bedroom. While I stood there imagining Adam Troy/Gardner McKay sailing around the South Seas in my favorite TV show, Adventures in Paradise, I knew I would always be thinking of Mr. Morgan in his briefs, with his hairy chest, and the line of hair that went down over his tight stomach and the big bulge in the front.

Robert hitting my leg brought me back to the world; he was thanking Mrs. Morgan who had ordered three boxes of cards and five packs of wrapping paper, our biggest sale yet. We thanked again and were on our way. For the rest of the day I kept picturing Mr. Morgan and me on a sailboat, that fantasy was replayed quite a bit over the next couple of years.

By the spring of '64, I was fifteen years old when I discovered masturbating, kind of. I had my first orgasm when I was twelve, but it was an accident. Waking up with my twelve year old cock pressed into the mattress I began to think of Mr. Morgan as I had done so many times. Rubbing it back and forth I felt a new sensation, my body started to tingle, and my heart started to pound and I felt like I had to pee, then it happened, my first load of boy juice flooded my shorts. The sticky wetness heightened my pleasure. Even though it felt fantastic, as soon as I stopped shaking and looked in my shorts I panicked. I had no idea what just happened, but it felt great, but what was I going to do with the mess in my shorts? This was something I repeated as often as I could, once I learned how to hide the evidence.

However one Saturday morning when I was fifteen, my parents had taken my brothers and sisters into the city to see my Grandparents. I was allowed to stay behind because I had a paper route. It was the afternoon paper and they were dropped off at two PM on the corner two blocks over. It took me at least an hour to fold and rubber-band them and stuff them into the basket of my bike.

The Morgan's were one of my customers, and I always hoped it would be Mr. Morgan at home when I collected on Fridays, but sadly he never was home from work in time. Ever since the day I But today I hoping fortune would smile upon me; there was no answer when I rang the bell to collect the day before, so I was hoping that he would be there today.

When I got to the house I saw him in the side yard, he was mowing his lawn. He was wearing very short cut-off jeans and sleeveless tee shirt that clung to his well-defined pecs and showed his impressive arms. Not to mention the hair showing above the neckline of the shirt. Again, I was imagining him and me sailing around the Coral Sea just like Adam Troy.

Riding up the drive I came to a stop in front of him and told him I was collecting. He was very friendly and smiled a lot while we talked, me this awkward pre-teen boy and him, the young thirty-seven year old father of three. He told me that Mrs. Morgan was away for the weekend with the girls visiting her sister, and he was getting caught up on chores. He asked me about school, sports and my hobbies, I was over the moon having an adult take such interest in me. It was during that conversation that we discovered our mutual love of trains. He invited me to come over the next afternoon around one and he would show me his set-up. Then he paid me for that week's papers and gave me a fifty cent tip, which was huge, considering the weeks papers only cost a $1.10!

Racing to finish my route, I got home, my parents were still not home so I rushed to my room and stripped off my shorts. Lying on the bed, my boy cock already hard, I continued to rub it on the mattress while picturing Mr. Morgan in his short cut-offs and in his white briefs. Then I had an idea, I flipped over on my back and grabbed my cock and rubbed it with my hand. The next thing I knew my boy-cock was throbbing and I shot my stuff all the way up to my chest. Now this was really a cool way to do it.

The next morning while serving the ten o'clock Mass, all I could think about was visiting Mr. Morgan. Off course I wasn't paying attention, and when it came time for me to ring the bells I forgot, Father Murphy had to clear this throat and shot an angry glance over his shoulder. Then he gave me a stern lecture in the sacristy after Mass about the importance of paying attention at while saying Mass. Normally this dressing down would have upset me, but not today, I was going to be spending time with Mr. Morgan.

When I made way over to his house, I found him in the back yard, dressed the same as the day before, and covered in sweat as he trimmed bushes. He greeted me with a big smile. Throwing down his clippers, he told I was just in time, he needed a break. He stripped off his shirt and wiped his face and then under his arms and his hairy chest. The sight of him doing that caused a new sensation, my cock twitched in my pants, and my breath caught in my throat. I think he noticed, because he just stopped, with one arm behind his head exposing his hairy armpit, and filling the air with the scent of sweat and Aqua Velva.

Then he winked at me and said, "Let's go look at the trains."

We entered through the back of the house into the lower level family room, then we moved into what was the unfinished part of the lower level where his enormous platform was set up. It took up almost the entire room which was about 12' x 20', leaving about four feet around three sides to move around. It was truly amazing. He pointed out various details, and then he said, "Follow me," as he pulled back the black material and crawled under the platform.

When we got to the middle, he pulled a bolt back and a piece of the platform swung down so we could stand in the middle. He hadn't put his shirt back on and there wasn't much space so we were touching. Between rubbing up against him and smelling his scent I was hard as rock in my shorts. All I could think about was, thank God he can't see the bulge in my pants!

After about tens minute of this sweet torture, he asked if I would like a soda, of course I said yes and we made our way back out from the middle of the platform. We went into the family room and he told me to have a seat while he got the Cokes.

When he returned, he handed me a bottle, then sat right next to me. We continued to talk trains, then baseball, school and finally he asked if I knew where babies came from. Of course I told him no. Then he asked if I masturbated, when I said I didn't know what that meant he told me.

"That's when a guy's penis gets hard and he rubs it until he shoots sperm."

Wow, so that was what that was it was called, and I explained my experience from yesterday.

"Well my young friend, it seems you have discovered jerking-off all on your own."

"Mr. Morgan, please don't tell my dad," I said, I had heard a little about jerking-off, but not enough to understand what it was but only that it was wrong.

"Listen buddy, first of all, when were together you can call me Art, and second, whatever we talk about stays between us, okay?" He said as he held out his hand to shake. When I grabbed it and shook, it felt like the shock you get from the carpet in the winter. I think he noticed because while still holding my hand he winked again. He went on to give a quick tutorial on masturbating and how not to leave evidence.

Just then we heard a car horn, damn that meant Mrs. Morgan was home, so we went to great her and then I was on my way. When I got home, I found the house empty and raced to my room. In a flash my shorts were down and I had my hard boy cock in my hand. Thinking about Art and his hairy body and bulging chest I shot a load of boy cream all over my stomach. As I lie there panting, I thought of ways to clean up my mess without Mom finding out.

The following Saturday, luck was once again on my side. My parents were in the city again, and Art as I now called in when we were alone, was cutting the lawn in what I now considered his uniform, short cutoffs and a muscle tee. When I rode up on my bike he gave me a big smile.

"Hey buddy, I'm glad you're here. When you're through, would you like to help me run some wire under the platform for street lights?"

"Sure Mr.," he cocked an eyebrow at me, "I mean sure Art, I'll be done in fifteen minutes," I said and sped off to finish up my paper route.

When I returned I found him in the garage working on his car, he looked and smiled when I came in. "Perfect timing buddy, let's go."

So into the house we went, and under the platform. While we worked, most of the time I was almost right up against him smelling that now familiar mix of sweat and Aqua Velva, we talked about different things. Then he asked me if I had been jerking off. I'm sure he couldn't see it but I could feel myself blush from head to toe. When I didn't answer right away he spoke.

"Don't worry little buddy, all boys your age do it, they just lie about it."

"Really!" I said with astonishment, and relief.

"Sure, look if there is anything you ever want to know you just ask ok."

"Thanks Art," was all I could manage.

Twenty minutes later, and our work complete, I was on the family room sofa while he was off getting Cokes. When he returned he handed me a bottle and again sat right next to me. Again he got me excited, and my mind went right to the sail boat and the South Pacific.

We started talking about masturbating again and then he asked if I knew where babies came from and how men and women had sex. When I said no, he asked I would like to learn. Well of course the answer was yes, I mean what horny fifteen year old wasn't? As I sat next there next to him he started explaining how a penis fits into a vagina, and how a man moves in and out and eventually shoots his semen into the woman to fertilize her egg.

"Jerry, there is nothing better than sliding your cock in a hot pussy."

Hearing those words excited me beyond belief, one because they were grownup words and two because he was saying them to me.

"Well what about jerking off," I asked bravely.

"Well, that feels okay, but there is only one other way that a guy can have that same feeling without being with a woman."

"How?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my seat.

"Well a guy could make his buddy feel that good by sucking on his penis," Art said with a twinkle in his eye. My already hard cock throbbed in my pants.

"Would you like to try?"

"Sure," was I replied.

Just as last week, we were alone, and if Mrs. Morgan was to come home we would hear her honk or the garage door go up.

Art reached over, took my hand and put it on his crotch. That was the first time I had felt another cock, let alone a grown man; and he felt enormous. Slowly he unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, allowing me access to his briefs. Moving my hand around, I could feel the dampness of his shorts and was getting a sense of the size of this cock. He pulled down his briefs, tucking them under his hairy balls and spread his legs; I continued to play with his cock and balls, completely mesmerized by this thirty-seven year old stud.

Finally, after allowing me time to explore he stood and removed his shorts, it was the first time I had ever seen an adult man nude, he was huge. His cock was beginning to grow, it was already up to six inches and not fully hard and his balls looked like jawbreakers at the penny candy counter.

There was a sticky liquid leaking from the head of his cock, when I asked he explained what it was, why it dripped and what it was for. As I ran my hands all over his body he answered all my questions, just like he was my big brother.

I was still dressed, Art said that I should get undressed as well, "I'll bet your leaking pre-cum too!" I started to undress, it was exciting and I was starting to feel like a grown up. When I lowered my shorts, I was indeed leaking. My raging boy cock slapped up against my stomach, he smiled at me, then took his finger and rubbed it over the head of my dick, taking his finger covered with my boy juice to lips and licking it clean.

When he saw my eyes widen, he said it tasted sweet, sort of like honey.

"Come on buddy," he said sitting down on the couch, "sit with me."

After I sat, he reached over and started to stroke my cock, "are you okay with this buddy?"

I answered by reaching over and stroking his huge man cock. He moaned as I ran my fingers up and down his cock, he began to leak more and more pre-cum and it made his dick slick.

"That's it buddy, jerk me off, make me shoot," he said panting as stroked his slick cock. It took about five minute, and he began to shoot loads of cum all over his hairy flat stomach and chest. I had never seen another guy cum, let alone an adult, and watching this stud unload was hot as hell!

When his breathing returned to normal, he reached under the couch and brought out a rag and wiped up his cum. Then he asked if I would like to see what it felt like to have my cock sucked.

"Really! You'd do that for me?"

"Sure buddy". He spread my legs, and then leaned over and I went stiff all over as I felt the warmth of his mouth envelop my boy cock. This was heaven, then he stopped! When he looked up and saw the disappointment on my face he just smiled.

"Are you enjoying it," he asked.

"Yes," I panted, "please don't stop."

"Okay, let me know when you're going to cum," he said and sucked me back deep in his throat. It wasn't long before I couldn't take and more and announced that I was going to cum. He pulled back and sucked harder on the head of my dick and I shot like a cannon!

When he was done draining my teenage cock, he told me that what I just felt was pretty close to cumming inside a woman. That bit of information really didn't matter to me, what I wanted was to suck on his huge man cock and drink his cum.

"Jerry, listen buddy, this has to be our secret, do you understand?" He said looking at me very seriously.

"Sure Art, but I have a question."

"You can ask me anything, anytime little buddy."

"Can we do this again?"

He laughed and hugged me, "Sure buddy, we'll have lots time to explore each other," he said stepping back and ruffling my hair.

And we did...

Author's Note: Hi guys, this is a short story inspired by my hard-working editor Jim. If you are interested in more from Art & Jerry let us know!

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