The Pool Cleaner's New Gig
Note: This story was written at the request of a gay teenager named who (for awhile anyway) fell in love with the author over a long series of emails. It's a complete fantasy, tailored for a young queer-boy just beginning to explore his sexuality. It never happened, but Grant probably wished that it had. I sure do.
Copyright, 2006 by Stephen Scott. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives, to archive and display this work. All other uses are expressly forbidden unless explicit arrangement has been made with the author. This work may not be reproduced, posted, stored electronically, or archived, except for personal, non-public use, without the express written permission of the author.
Encounters--The Bellhop and the Movie Star and Straight Boy Cody for Cash
Adult Youth--Fourth of July Fireworks
Young Friends--After the Fireworks
Authoritarian--Number Twelve, His Private Stockade, Hustling a Hustler and All I Want for Christmas
Beginnings--The Boy in the Alley
If you enjoy this story or any of my other stories, please drop me a line at Joe_Gillis_2000@yahoo.com (And a no-prize if you recognize that name!)
The Pool Cleaner's New Gig
By Stephen Scott
A warm June day. Mom in the city until late in the evening. The house to himself.
Grant peels off his shorts and T-shirt, grabs a couple towels, and starts out to the pool. On the way he passes the full-length mirror in the hall and stops to look at his reflection.
At 18 he's losing his baby-fat, sacrificed to the athletic pleasures at which he excels. He's tall now, and his young body has grown taut and lean at playing baseball, and skiing (when he can) has sculpted his thighs and butt.
He gazes at himself, conscious not of his nakedness but of the teenaged narcissism that compels him to examine his own well-maintained body. That it feels forbidden makes it somehow more satisfying. That the act of examining his naked form causes his penis to stir makes it that much more pleasurable.
And the mirror doesn't lie. He's a good-looking kid, and his body reflects the care he's put into molding its contours.
Grant likes the lines of his form, the gracefulness with which his limbs move and his muscles contract as he turns this way and that, looking with a critical (but definitely not disinterested) eye. He allows himself to pose.
Full-on, he admires the nicely chiseled chest with its protruding nipples that grow so hard so often these days with unfulfilled desire; the slimness of his hairless belly; the heft of his fat young balls riding in the tight scrotum; the well-shaped cock slicing its way upward now toward his navel; the way his black, curled pubic hair also arcs upwards. It doesn't reach any further than his navel just now, but he's confident it will begin to creep up his slender belly and toward his well-defined chest in time.
In three-quarter profile he enjoys the slenderness of his belly and the nicely rounded way his ass juts away from his body.
By this time, his cock is protruding too.
At Grant's age, tumescence is less an occasional occurrence than an everyday--sometimes every minute--way of life. He jacks off at least twice a day now, sometimes more, and he's always slightly amazed at the quantity of cum he captures in those sheets of Kleenex. Like most adolescent boys, the center of his being has altered; once it had been evenly spread throughout his entire body--in the momentary physical joy of playing, running, and living. Now it's located completely in his erogenous zones: in the head of his dick, in the shaft, in those pendulous balls that hang below the dark tuft at his groin--and smack in the middle of his bouncy, boyish, sports-muscled butt.
Turning his back to the mirror and craning his head, he gives an approving stare at the way his hard thighs meet his firm young backside. Since realizing he is gay, Grant thinks more and more about the forbidden possibilities for pleasure located in his butt. When he comes, he can feel his prostate pumping away, shooting its fluid toward his cock, where it mixes with the sperm geysing up from his balls and out through the slit at the apex of his dick. He feels his sphincter spasm wildly as the semen ejaculates. These are intensely erotic sensations, and Grant loves the deep, pulsating throbs in his rear that accompany his ejaculations.
He thinks about fucking another guy's butt. He thinks about having a cock in his ass. Once while masturbating he stuck a finger up his bottom. It hurt, even with all the Lubriderm he used, but it also felt good.
He wants sex. Wants it bad. But mostly, he wants to find another male who will befriend him, teach him about the uses to which his body can be employed in pursuit of pleasure. Love him.
Grant sighs, reminding himself that what he wants just now is a cool skinny-dip in the pool.
Satisfied, more or less, with this inventory of his own physique Grant walks out of the house and toward the pool, his hard-on bobbing up and down before him. As he approaches, he stands for a moment in the sun, allowing his body to bask in its warmth, especially the parts of him usually under wraps. Then he picks up the bottle of sunning oil and begins to coat himself with it.
This is one of the true pleasures of skinny-dipping. The oil, warm from the early summer heat, feels like liquid kisses as he applies it liberally onto his skin. When he gets to his bottom he slows his motions down, luxuriating in the sensuous feel of the slick liquid as he rubs it over his butt-cheeks.
He oils his balls, working his way up to his now throbbing teen-cock. He hasn't intended to jack off quite this early in the day, but that doesn't matter any longer. The only thing that matters is milking himself to another glorious orgasm. He kneels on the tile, tossing the smaller of the towels on the ground in front of him, and surrenders to his task.
He thinks of boys whose hot bodies he gazes at surreptitiously in the locker room and showers. He sees his favorites, naked and glistening, in his mind. The oil he spreads over the head and shaft of his dick is bringing him close, very close.
Keeping his left hand moving on his cock, he reaches behind him, caressing his oil-slick buns. Spreading them with two digits, he uses his index finger to trace the line of his ass-crack, moving closer to his hole. Even with the lotion on his finger, he doesn't think he's quite ready to put it inside himself again. Still, when he touches his anus with the tip, the delicious electric thrill that pulses in his butt pushes him over the brink and he comes, spraying a thick wad of jism onto the waiting towel, cumming with the intensity and volume only a teenager can manage.
Damn! He thinks as he catches his breath again. Gets better every time!
Only one thing in fact could make it even better: another naked guy with him.
He thinks about the blowjob he received a few months ago--his first. How incredible the lips around his young cock had felt, how explosive his orgasm had been.
He wants that again.
By the time he regains his feet the sun has worked its way into his skin, drying the oil sufficiently. He stands up, goes to the edge of the pool, and launches himself into the cool, soothing water.
Grant swims a bit, enjoying the sensations of water and movement on his nakedness. Then he climbs out, towels off briefly, places the cloth over the chaise lounge, and lies facedown on it, the sun gently cooking his back, thighs and buttocks.
A voice, unknown and unexpected, wrenches him back to consciousness.
Grant's body lurches at the sound. What the hell?
As he stands to confront the intruder, he is instantly aware of his nakedness. Grabbing the towel with panicky hands, he wraps it around his lower torso and, voice shaking with rage, turns to see who is trespassing on his mother's property.
The figure standing on the tiles in his light-colored uniform is short and boyish-looking, but definitely a man. Despite his agitation, Grant sizes him up appreciatively.
The man wears a tan shirt that buttoned up the front, and a pair of tight beige shorts that accentuate his thighs and (Grant feels pretty certain) his ass. He isn't very tall--Grant figures maybe 5'4" or 5'5".
His hair is brown, cut short, and he wears an eye-concealing pair of sunglasses. Grant thinks the guy is cute in an odd way, and that just makes standing there in nothing but a towel even more unnerving. If I get an erection now ...
"Who are you?" he demands angrily, determined to forget the tingling he gets in his loins when he looks at the man.
"I'm Scott. I'm with the pool-cleaning service your mom uses. Is she here?"
Grant thinks fast. The pool-cleaners aren't due for another week. He knows that. If he answers no to the question, the guy will know he's alone. If he says yes, the man might ask to speak to her. Then what?
Aw, hell, he thinks. I can take care of this guy. He's shorter than I am, and I'm in better shape.
"She's in the city. Look: you guys aren't due here `til next week."
"I know--that's why I wanted to talk with her. See, I need to take off that day, and since I had to clean another pool close to here I thought I'd stop by. You know--see if she minds me doing the job a week early?"
"So where's the regular guy?" Grant thinks hard, then remembers the name. "Steve. I've never seen you before today."
"Steve's sick. Damn summer flu bug. I'm taking his rounds. So, look: can I clean the pool today, or what? I really need that day off next week."
Grant considers. Will it hurt to let the guy do it a week earlier than usual? He doesn't think so. And anyway, the man is kinda humpy. He won't mind watching him at work for a while. He shrugs his shoulders.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Scott's face breaks into a grateful smile.
"Aw--thanks, man! I really appreciate this."
Grant has to admit he likes the guy's smile. It's spontaneous, wide, sincere--and kinda cute.
"No problem. Just hurry it up, huh? I want to swim some more laps."
"Oh, sure. I'll be out of your way as quick as I can."
The pool-cleaner sends another gleaming smile his way, and Grant is struck by how it makes his pulse speed up. As Scott walks back to his van to get his tools, the teenager watches him go, conscious of the way the short guy's buns bounce in those high-cut shorts. The ass is tight, just as he knew it would be.
Not now! He cautions himself. Think about something else. He knows how fast his cock can rise when it wants to--hell, it always wants to these days--and he is embarrassed enough already.
While the pool-cleaner gathers his tools, Grant saunters back to the chaise lounge and sits. He picks up a paperback and tries to concentrate on the words his eyes run over. His mind, though, is definitely elsewhere.
His cock stirs beneath the towel. Just try not thinking about sex when sex is all your body wants.
He wonders what might happen if he waits until the guy comes back and starts working, then just drops his towel and gives the cute pool-man a good, long look at his hot young boy-meat.
He won't do that, of course, but the image makes him smile.
It also makes his dick stiffer.
Just then, the pool cleaner comes back around the side of the house with his net. He nods to Grant, then walks over to the pool and begins to troll for gunk.
Grant is annoyed. Not only has his sunning been interrupted, now he can't even swim until the guy finishes his cleaning job. Plus, the pool man hasn't even glanced at his body! Here he is, practically naked, clearly hard under his towel, and the guy just nods like he was passing some acquaintance on the street.
Maybe I should haul out my dick, he thinks. That'll get the dumb asshole's attention.
He looks over at the pool cleaner and sweeps his eyes up and down the diminutive body. He likes what he sees well enough. And that, somehow, just makes him more annoyed.
"Hey!" he calls out to the pool-man.
The guy looked up from beneath his shades, and Grant favors him with the sight of his thighs, open beneath the towel that barely covers them.
"How long is this gonna take, man? I need my swim-time."
The pool-man's genial smile disappears.
"Workin' as fast as I can, guy," he replies. His mouth has turned down in a frown of disapproval. Grant thinks he can pretty much read the guy's mind. Asshole kid, trying to rush me.
Well, fuck him, Grant thinks. We're paying for this service.
He decides to make the guy self-conscious by just sitting there and staring at him. It takes a while for the pool cleaner to notice, intent as he is on finishing up the job. Finally he glances up, sees the teenager glaring at him, and looks back down shyly. A minute or so later, he steals a quick look in the boy's direction. Seeing that the bland, irritated look on the kid's face hasn't changed, he stares back, beginning to get royally pissed off.
He bends back to his task with renewed fervor.
Grant notices the change, and smiles to himself. Getting off the lounge, he saunters toward the pool-man, a look of disdain on his face.
"Hey, pool-man" he smirks.
The guy looks up, his face darkening.
"I have a name, kid."
He says it softly, but there is a definite edge to his voice.
"Okay, MISTER Pool-man" Grant answers with a shrug.
The pool cleaner puts down his net.
"My name is Scott. If you were more polite, you'd use it."
That does it. Grant sees red.
"I don't give a fuck what your stupid name is! When are you gonna be done? I can't wait all damn day!"
The pool cleaner is through putting up with the haughty kid. He moves toward Grant, his hazel eyes steely with anger.
"You're a spoiled little fuck, aren't you? Someone oughta take that smirk off your smug little face."
"Try it, fuckwad. My mom'll sue your ass like that!" Grant snaps his fingers in the pool cleaner's face.
It happens so quickly that Grant doesn't know what's hit him.
The pool-man picks him up and throws him into the pool. Grant plunges down, stunned, then shoots back up out of the water, sputtering with rage and humiliation. He doesn't even notice that his towel has fallen off when he hit the water.
"You fucking asshole!" he screams. The pool-man looks shaken, like he can't quite believe what he's done. Then, as Grant splashes back to poolside, he sees the cleaner's mouth harden into a grim little smile.
"You fucked with the wrong guy, mister!" Grant snarls as he begins to haul his naked body up out of the pool. God, is he going to give this guy the shit! First he'll make sure the asshole loses his job. Then ...
Grant feels a sudden scream of pain in his skull. The guy is actually hauling him up by his hair!
"Oww!! Goddamnit! You bastard!"
The pool-man lets go of his hair and uses his hands to lift Grant up, by the underarms. He hauls the teenager out and drops him on his butt. Then he kneels down and speaks very softly and evenly into the boy's stunned face.
"Someone needs to teach you manners, kid" he whispers. "And I guess that someone is me."
He grips Grant's arm and pulls him up. Then he hauls the naked teenager over to the chaise lounge, sits down, and throws the surprised kid over his knee. Seeing the teenager's muscled buns undulate as he kicked his way back to the poolside is what gave him the idea.
Scott stars down at the teenager's firm, ample young buttocks, still wet from the pool. From his own childhood he knows that a slap on wet flesh hurts worse than a pop on a dry backside. Once when he was around 8 years old, his dad hauled him out of the bathtub and whaled on his wet ass. He can still recall the sting of it.
He smiles. Yeah, this is gonna be GOOD.
Up to now, Grant has simply been too stunned to react. Everything has happened so fast. But with his head, arms, and thighs hanging down and his butt in the air, he knows. He can't believe what's about to happen. The guy is actually going to spank him!
Before he can make a protest, a strong hand comes down on his wet ass. Pain explodes in his rump--more than he could have expected.
He jerks his body, trying to get off the man's lap, but the cleaner merely pulls his arm behind his back and slaps his bottom again, harder this time.
"Ow! Quit it!"
"Shut up, little boy," the pool-man snaps, reigning down a series of short, sharp blows on Grant's helpless behind.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Grant wriggles, struggling to keep his ass out of the man's range. But with every squirming move of his hips, the pool-man's grip merely tightens.
Even in his pain and distress, Grant has to admit the guy knows what he's doing. The slaps never hit the same place twice in succession. One lands on his left cheek, the next on his right, the next directly across both buns at the same time. That way, he spreads the pain evenly throughout Grant's entire upturned rear.
Still, he's furious at the treatment he's receiving. The guy is humiliating him, making him completely vulnerable, causing him pain, and staring down without modesty at the teenager's naked butt.
On the other hand, he still thinks the pool-man is hot, and that fact gives his present predicament a weird little kick. The spanking hurts, and Grant doesn't like pain. But: the position of his naked body over the man's lap, the way his bottom quivers at each smack of the hand, the feel of his cock rubbing against the man's exposed thigh--especially when he struggles--Grant can't deny it's some kind of turn-on.
About the time he becomes aware of the stiffening at his groin, he also notices the growing bulge pressing against his belly.
The pool-man is hard!
For his part, Scott is mesmerized by the full, ripe bubble-butt turning to glowing pink under his hand. The kid is a little hottie. He'd noticed that right away--hell, the teenager had all but paraded his buff body in front of him, daring him not to notice its lithe, youthful perfection. If only he wasn't such a little shit!
Still, having this much physical beauty over his knee carries a definite erotic charge. Watching the kid's buttocks bouncing around, the cheeks spreading open and clamping shut--it makes his breath grow raspier, his cock get harder. And as he surrenders to his feelings, he becomes acutely aware of the hard young pole poking against his thigh.
He reaches around the teenager's waist and takes hold of the rigid shaft of flesh between Grant's legs.
"What's this?" he murmurs, stroking the stiff young prick. "The spoiled brat has a hard-on! He likes getting his butt spanked!"
"No, I don't" Grant protests. His rump burns, but a numbing sensation is spreading across his cheeks, blocking the pain. It feels nice.
"Randy little faggot, aren't you?" the pool-man sneers. "Gets a big, fat stiffie when a man spanks his butt. That's sick, kid."
Grant's face flushes with embarrassment and indignation.
"You should talk, asshole!" he blurts. "You're as hard as I am!"
Scott can't make an answer to that. He is hard. Harder than he's been in a long, long time.
He gently lifts the ruffled teenager off his lap and turns him over. The kid's well spanked behind slides between his thighs, and his young cock is at full-mast. He stares into the boy's eyes. He sees want there, and need. And something else--is it gratitude? He isn't sure, and he doesn't quite know why he does what he does next. He can get in so much trouble here. But suddenly, he doesn't care.
He pulls the kid close to him and locks his lips over the teenager's mouth.
Grant is shocked at first, but as the pool-man's mouth descends onto his, he closes his eyes and gives in.
Yes. This is it. This is what he's wanted. A man's lips on his, a man's body pressed against his own.
He throws his arms around the pool-man and kisses back, furiously.
The bodies melt together as if made for each other--the man's and the boy's--as tongue searches for tongue and hands begin to roam.
When the kiss breaks, Grant's head reels.
"Who the hell do we think we're kidding?" Scott murmurs, nuzzling the teenager's cheek. "We're exactly the same."
Grant stares into the pool-man's eyes and smiles.
"Scott," he murmurs.
The pool cleaner locks his eyes the kid's.
"Yes?" is all he could rasp out.
"My mom's not comin' back anytime soon."
Grant kisses the pool-man's lips briefly. Scott's slightly dazed face slowly breaks into a smile.
"I didn't really think so."
"She'll be gone for hours."
A second kiss, longer this time, more languid.
The smile broadens.
"She'll probably spend the night in the city."
This time it's the man who initiates the kiss. It's searching, deep, untroubled.
Breaking the kiss, Scott looks into Grant's eyes.
"I'm sorry about the `faggot' remark, kid. I just wanted to get at you. You know, tease you for being such a brat."
"I mean--hell!--I'm gay myself."
"I get it, Scott. I had it coming."
Scott plants another longing kiss on the teenager's lips.
"Just one question," he pants, unlocking their mouths.
Scott looks sheepish.
"I'm Grant," he says, laughing.
In reply, Scott dives his tongue into the teenager's mouth.
"Pleased to meet you," he murmurs.
"Where can we go?" Scott asks, his arms full of warm, muscled teenager.
Grant smiles, his heart racing almost as fast as his erotic imagination.
"Anywhere. The pool-house. My bedroom. Jacuzzi. The pool table," he suggests, smiling lasciviously. "Anywhere."
Scott gently nudges Grant off his lap, stands up, and takes the youth's hand.
They walk together, hand in hand, to the edge of the pool. Scott begins to unbutton his shirt. Grant takes his hand away.
He's too excited (and too inexperienced) to be slow or seductive. He all but rips the buttons off, baring the pool-man's chest. Without a word, he unzips Scott's shorts and slides them down; the man's cock has tented his white cotton briefs. Scott steps out of his pants while Grant unties his boots and slips them off, followed by the white athletic socks. Then he kneels and reaches up to cup Scott's hard-on.
Scott gasps, sighs, shudders. The eager hand on his dick makes his erection jump.
"Let me see it," Grant murmurs.
Scott slips his underpants down to his ankles and kicks them off. His man-cock pops up and out and stands there, throbbing in front of Grant's upturned face.
It's the first erection the teenager has ever seen, apart from his own--and the ones on the gay porn sites he visits on the `net, and those don't count. They aren't "real." They aren't inches away from him, bobbing and pulsing with masculine desire.
It's about 5½ inches long, of medium girth. Cut. The head is bullet-shaped, flaring at the bottom but not too wide. The shaft points up at an angle, slicing the air slightly to the left. Dark straight pubic hair decorates the crotch, and a pair of nicely proportioned balls hang tight against the skin of Scott's perineum.
He looks up at the pool cleaner.
"Can I see your ass?"
Scott smiles and turns around. Grant stares in wonder at the first naked male butt he's ever seen that isn't either cyber or being revealed in a locker room.
They're rounded, high, tight--what gay guys call a bubble-butt. Grant places one palm on each cheek, making the man before him moan softly. He caresses them, strokes them, prizes them apart to glimpse the inviting wink of Scott's anus.
"Thanks, Grant. Yours isn't bad either."
Grant blushes, embarrassed and pleased at once. Scott takes him by the hand and nods at the pool.
They leap in.
Once they resurface, Scott presses Grant's back to the wall of the pool, pushes his body against the kid's, and kisses him. Grant is 5 inches taller, so even though their cocks grind together in delicious friction, his own is closer to the man's navel.
Breaking the kiss, Scott pushes the teenager up onto the deck, so his butt is out of the water while his legs dangle below the surface. Without a word, he slips his arms around the kid's torso, moves his head toward the waiting groin, and swallows Grant's cock in one swift movement.
A moan escapes the teenager's lips.
"Oh my GOD!"
Grant's body is on fire. The mouth around his dick is warm, wet, completely possessive. The tongue slithers up and down the shaft and head--licking here, sucking there--as the man relaxes his throat and the kid-cock lodged there. Grant shudders, grinding his hips as Scott tightens his throat-muscles around the wildly sensitive boy-cock. His ass slips and slides on the wet tile.
He's going to cum soon, Grant can tell. Scott seems to be aware of the approaching explosion too, because he slowly allows the shaft to emerge from his gullet and concentrates on the cock-head. He runs his teeth gently across it, over it, under it. His tongue laps at the eager drops of pre-cum that oozes from the kid's piss-slit. His lips encircle it, sucking, drawing it in and out of his lips, his head bobbing up and down as he gives the teenager a cock-bath he'll never forget. He tugs on the kid's scrotum, rolling the orbs gently in his hands.
Suddenly Grant grips Scott's head. His pelvis lurches up, his hips thrusting his hot cock deeper into the man's willing mouth. He begins to shudder, and cries out.
"Oh! Oh God! I--I'm cummmmmmmminnnnnnnnnggggg!!"
This last bit of information is superfluous: hot boy-juice shoots out of his dick and spatters the inside of Scott's talented mouth. Wave after wave of cum explodes from the teenager. Grant gasps, moans, thrusts, comes in a torrent.
When he is finished, he lies back on the tiles, his eyes still clamped shut, and shudders in ecstasy.
The man, meanwhile, has swallowed the virgin milk, tasting sweetly and strongly of teenaged lust, and is busily licking the remaining drops from the end of Grant's penis.
Scott knows that a guy's cock is at its most sensitive to touch after an orgasm. And so, allowing the spent shaft to emerge from his mouth, he clamps his lips down firmly on the tip of the head before it can escape completely, causing the teenager to jump, gasp again, shudder once more, scream "Fuck!" and feel his body turn to rubber.
Scott continues to lick and suck the wet cock-head until Grant's thrashing subsides. He rises from the pool and lies on top of the heaving, gasping teenager, his stiff dick poking into Grant's slender belly.
"Good?" he asks softly.
Grant laughs, opens his eyes, and grins.
"I'm glad. Your first?"
Grant shakes his head.
"Second. But definitely the best."
Grant becomes aware of the hard piston of flesh against his skin.
"You didn't cum, though."
"There's time for that later, right?"
Grant's grin breaks even wider.
"All day, man."
"Well, let's sleep on that. For a bit, anyway."
And so, with the teenager holding him close, the man drifts off.
Grant lies wide-awake, amazed at the day's shocks and surprises. He still can't quite believe what's just happened, despite the electric tingling in his cock that told him it has.
Man! A bare-ass spanking, a blowjob, and my own private stud all in one afternoon!
He wonders what games they'll get up to next. He has several in mind.
He bets Scott has a few of his own.
He sighs, smiles, closes his eyes, and sleeps.
Grant wakes to the feel of a mouth on his nipple.
Scott is lying on top of him, his lips and tongue moving in languid circles around the teenager's right tit.
The nipple hardens.
The pool-man attacks it with increased devotion, drawing it into his lips. Biting down gently on the tip, he pulls the rigid flesh away from Grant's chest.
The teenager moans, instantly aroused.
Scott begins to work on the left nipple. Again he licks, suckles, bites, and pulls.
Grant's hips buck up, making his hardening cock slap against the pool cleaner's belly. He places his hands on the man's head and holds it there. Slight stubble from Scott's chin brushes his chest and he jumps, completely turned-on.
He gazes down the back of the man now engaged in ravaging his nips, admiring the lines of his physique. His eyes come to rest on the upturned ass. He imagines fucking it. He damn near comes.
Scott leaves off and raises his head, smiling sweetly.
"Hi," Grant says, smiling. He feels the man's stiff dick against his leg. "You wanna take a shower?"
"Anything you say, baby. You soap my back, I'll soap yours."
"No--I mean, we need to wash off the chlorine."
Scott blushes, sheepishly.
Grant gently pushes the pool-man off his body and rises. Taking him by the hand, he walks toward the pool-house. Once inside, he points to the shower-stall, discreetly covered by a frosted glass door.
Scott goes inside and holds the door open. Grant follows. He regulates the water and they stand beneath it, faces upturned, enjoying the feel of the spray on their bodies.
It doesn't take long for them to end up in each other's arms, kissing and caressing. Scott takes a bar of soap and lathers the teenager's chest and belly, then moves down to soap the eager young cock and tight, fat balls.
Grant closes his eyes and moans softly at the touch of the man's soapy hand on his body. Scott lathers his thighs next, then his legs, and finally, his feet.
When Grant opens his eyes again, Scott is holding out the bar. Instinctively, Grant takes it in his palm and uses it to soap Scott's chest, belly, and genitals. When he's done, Scott pulls him close and they move against each other, bodies slipping and sliding in the soapy lather that covers them.
They take turns rinsing the lather from their fronts. When they finish, Scott turns the teenager around and lathers his neck, back, shoulders, arms, spine, thighs, legs, and feet. Then he kneels and begins to rub the bar of soap around Grant's ass. The teenager humps his backside, wanting more of the man's hands on him.
When he's done soaping the teenager's glutes, Scott parts them and pushes the bar between Grant's hot butt-cheeks. Then he swabs his finger around the pliant young anus, causing its owner to groan and push back. Rinsing the boy's back, the pool cleaner splashes water into his asscrack, washing the soap off his hole.
Grant is shaking so badly he can barely hold the soap. He manages to soap Scott's back as the pool-man has just done to him. Fascinated, he parts the man's ass-cakes and stares in at the winking pink pucker of his hole. Then he soaps it up and rinses the pool cleaner off.
They press together again, clean and hard, their aching cocks rubbing sensuously against each other.
Scott turns off the water and they step out. They towel each other off gently, enjoying the rich feel of soft terrycloth on their stimulated bodies and the more sensual pleasure of hands caressing arms, legs, thighs, butts, and cocks.
Scott walks out to the pool and retrieves his clothing. Coming back, he looks at Grant with a soft urgency.
"Your bedroom?" he asks.
Grant leads the way upstairs, conscious that his new lover is watching his buns rise and fall as he goes. It makes him feel sexy, desirable. This mixes with his own yearning for Scott's body to form a powerful glow that suffuses his entire being.
He stops outside his room, turns, and smiles.
Scott goes to him, and kisses him briefly.
"Go to the bathroom and get all the lubricants you can find. And plenty of towels. I'll wait," he adds, smiling seductively.
Grant all but sprints to the bathroom. Searching through the cabinet, he finds a jar of Vaseline, a tube of K-Y, some baby oil, and that trusty bottle of Lubriderm. He rushes back to his bedroom and finds Scott examining the knick-knacks, posters, books, sporting equipment, and other signs that a teenaged boy is in residence. He notices that the man has carefully folded his uniform and placed it on his desk-chair, the socks tucked into his boots, which rest under the chair.
"Got it," Grant announces, dumping his treasures on the top of his dresser.
Scott sits on the bed and beckons Grant over. The teenager sits on the pool-man's lap, wrapping his arms around his body, thrilling to the feel of the hardness that nestles against his butt-cheek.
"Look, Grant," Scott murmurs, looking distinctly uneasy. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I don't want you to take offense. Okay?"
Grant stares into the man's eyes, sees the seriousness there, and nods.
"You ever done anything--I mean, you said someone gave you a blow-job once. But other than that--I mean, before this afternoon did you--"
"You want to know if I'm a virgin?"
Scott blushes a vivid red.
"Hey, no problem. Like I told you, I've had my cock sucked exactly once. That's it."
Scott considers this information for a moment.
"Okay. It goes without saying that I'm not cherry. So it's condoms for me."
"You got any?" Grant asks. He's afraid the answer is no and his entire erotic daydreaming will have been for nothing.
"Always carry a few in my pants pocket," Scott says, then smiles in embarrassment. He doesn't want Grant to think he's a voluptuary, nailing everything in trousers, merrily fucking his way across Long Island. "You never know, right?"
"Right," Grant answers, his face betraying only slightly the stab of unreasonable jealousy he feels.
"This is your party, baby. We do what you want, when you want it. You probably want to fuck me."
Grant looks startled. How does he know?
Scott grins. "I was a teenager once, you know."
Grant laughs, then look serious.
"Are you a top, or a bottom?"
Now it's Scott's turn to look surprised.
"The Internet," Grant smiles. "It's better sex education that I ever got in school."
"Well, I'm pretty much a top, Grant, but today is special. You're not technically a virgin--I know most people think that you are until you've fucked, or been fucked. But I include getting blown. On the other hand, you want to use what nature gave you. That's fine. And don't worry that you haven't done it before. I'll show you, every step of the way."
Grant's heart is thudding so violently he's sure the pool-man can see it beating. God, yes, he wants to fuck this man. But he also wants to please him.
"Are you sure?" he asks. "I mean, you can go first if you want."
Scott shakes his head.
"No. This is an important moment in your life. I want you to get everything you can from it. So bring a big bath towel and some of that K-Y over here."
Grant grabs the tube with trembling hands. When he turns around, Scott has lowered the comforter and the sheets. He spreads the towel on the mattress, lies down on his back, and holds out his arms.
The teenager falls on top of the pool-man, his cock sliding between his lover's ass-cheeks as if on cue. Scott wraps his arms around Grant and they kiss, lovingly, deeply as their hands rove each other's flesh. The pool-man's hands on his butt make the youth even harder, and he pushes his rump upward to greet the warm palms that cup his cheeks.
Scott breaks the kiss and stares into the teenager's eyes.
"The first thing we need is to get me ready. I've got to have some lube up my rear. If the idea of putting your fingers in my ass doesn't appeal to you, I'll do it myself."
Grant shakes his head.
"Let me do it."
He wants to do it. He needs to experience this.
Scott turns over on his belly and spreads his thighs. Grant kneels between the man's slightly hairy legs and squirts a sizeable glob of jelly onto his fingers. Using his free hand, he gently pries the waiting buttocks apart and slips his index finger between them. The gooey tip touches Scott's anus. He tenses, and moans softly.
"Go slow, now."
Grant begins to slide his greased-up finger inside the pool-man's butt. When the tip passes through the ring, the sphincter clamps down on him, then relaxes. The teenager slips more of his finger inside the warm, tight channel. He's fascinated by how easily it moves, and before he knows it, he's in past the knuckles.
Scott writhes a bit, breathing heavily.
"Am I doing okay," Grant asks.
"Perfect," Scott purrs. He humps his ass upward, impaling himself on the teenager's finger. "Okay. Now twist your finger around inside my asshole. Loosen it up."
Grant does as instructed, loving the feel of the man's slickened asswalls on his finger. The more he moves it around, the more Scott wriggles and moans.
"Oh, yeah, baby. So nice. Now, push up and see if you can find my prostate."
Grant urges his finger deeper, locates an almond-shaped lump, and strokes it. He doesn't have to ask if he's on the right track: Scott gasps, tightens his sphincter, and shudders. Grant rubs the gland gently, enjoying the twisting and swaying of the turned-on man whose butt he's exploring.
"Okay, baby" Scott manages. "Put another finger in."
Grant withdraws his index finger and adds the second digit. They slide in easily, no resistance. He needs no instruction now. He twists his fingers around just inside the dilating hole, excited by the way Scott's ass moves in concert with his probing. He pushes his fingers deep, massaging the prostate, and Scott cries out in joy.
"Oh! Oh, yes! C'mon, Grant. Fuck my hole with those fingers."
Grant begins to piston his fingers in and out of Scott's pliant hole, slowly at first.
"Yessssss!" Scott hisses. "Oh, yes. Oh--fuck me with that finger, Grant! Fuck me!"
As the pool-man moans, humping backward, Grant increases speed and depth. The sound of the lubricant gushing as he finger-fucks his lover is an aphrodisiac.
Scott manages to speak, in between gasping breaths. "Give me a third, baby. Give it to me!"
Grant complies, amazed at the elasticity of the pool-man's asshole. It's more difficult to maneuver with three fingers in so small a place, but it doesn't seem to matter. He pushes, glides, probes as Scott's movements become increasingly frenzied.
"Use those fingers, baby! Fuck me!"
Grant's hand moves faster, the fingers slipping in and out with increasing speed. Scott's ass is all over the place now: humping back to get more of the teenager's fingers in, twisting this way and that.
Breathing heavily, Scott rasps out, "Okay, baby. Get that cock lubed up. Hurry!"
Grant removes his fingers, grabs the K-Y, and quickly pushes out a hefty gob of lubricant onto his wildly throbbing penis. He rubs the cool, thick, viscous fluid over his cock-head and up and down his shaft.
Scott has debated which position to give the teenager. Doggy-style is out--too complicated for a novice. He could sit on the teenager's cock, but he wants to give Grant more control. He considers rolling onto his back and spreading his thighs. He wants to watch his young lover fucking him, to take an inventory of the various expressions he knows will change the teenager's face in rapid succession, to be able to be kissed while Grant fucks him. In the end, though, he elects to stay on his belly. This will give Grant a nice view of the plump, manly butt he's about to enter. And his buns will provide the perfect pillow when the boy is fully embedded up his ass.
Finally, though, what matters isn't the position but the fact of Grant--of his young cock entering another male for the first time. The pool-man wants to give him this gift, the make the teenager feel he's finally losing his virginity. What's more, Scott has slowly realized that he wants the kid's cock up his ass. Wants it badly.
By now the teenager is lubed-up. He moves forward, and Scott raises his butt slightly, inviting. Grant can see the pool-man's excited dick pressing down onto the mattress, the balls tight and high. He stares at the winking ribbon of pink flesh, then uses one hand to part the masculine cheeks, the other to aim his cock toward the waiting hole.
"Okay, baby. This is the hardest part for the guy getting fucked. Go real slow. Don't get too excited. Just press your cockhead against my hole and let the tip push inside. Slowly!"
Grant's head is spinning with lust and excitement. He's going to fuck another guy's ass! He's finally going to experience what he's wanted for so long!
He aims his cock to the wrinkled center of Scott's asshole. It kisses the anal opening, which feels wonderfully soft. The man pushes with his stomach muscles, and the hole opens up a bit. Instinctively, Grant knows this is the signal, and presses the head of his dick against it. The pool-man's asshole seems to take a velvety bite, and Grant moans involuntarily. The head begins to move forward, slowly, and Scott's hole seems to suck it in.
Slowly--for the teenager, excruciatingly slowly--Grant allows more of the head to enter. Millimeter by millimeter, Scott's sticky hole admits more and more of the crown. Soon it's halfway in. Then, suddenly, so suddenly that Grant doesn't have time to slow the process, the head slips inside, fully enclosed by the man's soft ass-lips.
"Am I hurting you?" Grant is abashed, afraid he's causing the pool-man pain.
Scott is slightly amazed at his own reaction. Normally he dreads this act. And yeah, there was a bit of pain at fist. But now the kid's dick feels fantastic up his butt.
"No, baby. It feels nice. Really. Okay, the hard part's over. Now slowly push the rest of it in."
Grant concentrates totally on Scott's round, willing butt. He inches his cock forward and watches in amazed delight as the shaft disappears between the hot male buns. He can't believe how wonderful it feels. It's all he can do not to shove it all the way in, jab upward, spear the vulnerable man beneath him. Instead, he employs patience, gradually feeding the 7" length of his steel-hard dick up the warm river of the pool-man's ass.
When he's finally, completely, inside, Grant sighs, falling on top of Scott's back in relief and pleasure. He can't quite believe it: His cock is up a man's ass! At last!
His thick, curly bush rests against the pool-man's butt.
"You're doin' great, baby."
Scott squeezes down on Grant's cock without warning, and the teenager yelps in a startled agony of pleasure.
The pool-man laughs. "Like that, baby?"
"Thought you might. That's the advantage of the sphincter. Okay, Grant. Go ahead. Fuck me."
These are the words Grant needs to hear--the words he's wanted to hear spoken for so long.
"You want me to go slow?"
"Start slow, yeah. But pick up speed whenever you want. You feel good inside me. Fuck my butt, puppy."
Scott knows something Grant doesn't: this won't take long. The kid is too excited, fucking his first ass--he's bound to pop faster than he expects. However hard Grant ends up dicking the man, it'll be over soon. Scott braces himself for what's coming.
Grant arches his back, easing his cock partway out, and then pushes back inside. The delicate friction of the ass-walls embracing his hard-on makes him feel faint. He gets a slow rhythm going, and before long he's fucking the pool-man's ass as though he's been doing this for years.
Scott helps him along by using his hips, shoving his ass back at Grant, meeting him motion for motion. Before long, the teenager is so lost in erotic pleasure that, despite himself, he is moving faster. Fucking deeper. Grinding harder. He's aware that his balls are slapping against Scott's butt-cheeks. He hears the thick, liquidy sound of cock sliding up ass. He's pistoning faster and faster up the pool-man's rump, out of control, his mind a fevered blank, his body a river of sexual need.
Scott is generally indifferent to having his ass fucked. He's put up with it on occasion, but never enjoyed it. This afternoon, however, the circumstances make a difference. Knowing his is the first butt this kid has ever stuck his dick into makes him feel proud and excited. His cock, usually limp during such events, is fully attuned to the experience, and pokes happily into the mattress. He isn't going to cum, but that hardly matters. He's enjoying this more than he expected to, and that's what counts.
Grant is in heaven. He's fucking a man's butt at last, and the experience is overwhelming. His entire sense of self seems centered in his dick. He can't believe the exquisite feeling of Scott's asshole gripping him. It's like fucking velvet. No, it's better than that. The teenager is groaning and puffing, aware of nothing except his cock and the pool-man's ass--the incredible, soft, fluid friction that is bringing him closer and closer.
As the pool-man has expected, Grant soon gives a bellow and slams up inside him. Scott winces--that final thrust is deep. He can feel the pulsing young cockhead spraying his guts with boy-juice as Grant shudders, moans, and cries out in ecstatic wonder. Then, suddenly, the boy falls on top of him, utterly spent.
Scott allows the silence that follows to stretch, knowing that Grant is bound to be so overwhelmed by the experience he won't be able to speak coherently. Instead, he moves his butt back and forth, cradling the boy-dick embedded there, as Grant heaves and sighs, breathless.
The teenager is stunned. He's never, ever felt anything so incredible. The feeling of being inside the man's butt was amazing; it eroticized his entire body. But that was nothing compared to the mind-blowing intensity of the orgasm he's just experienced.
Scott only speaks when he senses the teenager coming down from his high.
"Was it good, baby?"
Teenaged lips kiss his neck, and the kid wraps his arms around the pool-man gratefully.
"I loved it. It was--God, it was fantastic!"
"Tell you something, Grant. I enjoyed it, too. I didn't expect to, but I did. I liked having you inside me. In fact--" he pauses long enough to squeeze his anal muscles around the teenager's cock, making the kid gasp with pleasure--"I want you to keep it there awhile."
And so they remain, teen-cock resting inside man-hole, as Grant's breathing begins returning to normal.
"Scott?" he whispers.
"I want you to fuck me."
"You sure you're ready for that?"
"I want you so. I want your dick inside me."
Scott isn't certain kid knows quite what he's getting into, but the response of his own cock to the proposition decides things. He'll have to go slowly, carefully. Work the kid up to it. He thinks he knows how, and as he contemplates the image, his dick roars back to life.
The pool-man rolls over, allowing the now-flaccid kid-cock to slip from his butt.
He takes Grant's face in his hands and kisses him tenderly, aching with need.
"I want you, too," he murmurs. "You don't know how much. But first--" he slaps the boy's smooth young ass--"the shower."
The bathing is quick--practically a record-breaker. They are both eager to initiate this new phase of their physical love. Their cocks do not lose tumescence for a moment as they bask in the warm, soothing water, kissing, pressing their bodies together, reveling in the pure pleasure of being naked in each other's arms.
Once they're dried, Scott takes Grant by the hand and leads him back to the bedroom. He gently pushes the teenager down onto the mattress and stands, contemplating the lush young body before him.
A virgin. He's getting a virgin.
Every gay man's fantasy--breaking in a novice. Popping some hot kid's cherry. He's never had that experience (how many ever do?) and his excitement shows in the tumescence that fuels the ache he feels between his thighs.
He kneels by the bed and searches the young man's eyes. They are clear, lucid, brimming with emotion.
"Are you sure, Grant? Completely sure?"
Grant nods. Scott sees lust in the kid's eyes, an excitement that makes them shine. He also sees a certain, flickering fear.
"I promise not to hurt you," he says, running his hand through the teenager's curly hair. "If anything feels uncomfortable, or painful, you stop me. Okay?"
Grant smiles, takes the pool-man's hand in his, and kisses it.
He looks into the eyes of the man who will soon take him past the threshold of his experience. In his mind's eye, Grant sees the two of them connected in the most intimate fashion of all. It makes him feel more deeply masculine than he's ever felt before. He feels wanted, needed, desirable. The acknowledgement causes his skin to feel as though it's glowing. He suddenly senses an acute emptiness in his center. He thinks if this man doesn't fuck him, he will die of starvation. His untested butthole twitches, the sphincter tightening and loosening in eager anticipation. Is he ready? Is he ever!
"I want this. I do. I want this bad."
Scott lies on top of the teenager and kisses his lips. They wrap their bodies together, man and boy, arms moving, hands searching, legs entwining, cocks battling, lips merging, tongues dueling.
Scott kisses his way down the kid's body. The tongue in Grant's ear makes him writhe uncontrollably. The pool-man follows this appetizer by nuzzling the boy's neck, licking at his throat, tracing with his tongue the hardness between his breasts. Once more he attacks the hardened nipples. Again his tongue slides down the trim, young, largely hairless belly. Every touch of his lips and tongue causes Grant to moan and writhe, his arms and legs splaying outwards, his body tensing and relaxing. His cock is so hard he's afraid he might come again.
The pool-man doesn't trust the kid's self-control, so he bypasses Grant's dripping dick and roiling balls, choosing instead to lap languidly at the teenager's muscled inner thighs. He bites at them gently, making the teenager shudder and groan. He places his tongue squarely on the hairless perineum and traces the line of it until his mouth is resting just below the teenager's beautiful young butt.
He takes a cheek in each hand and lifts Grant's ass off the bed. His head moves closer, and his lips descend. He kisses the warm, rounded butt-cheeks, breathing deeply of his clean, delicious smell. He licks them, sucks on them, bestows hard, delightfully painful hickeys on their muscular contours.
He turns the kid onto his belly, giving himself an unobstructed view of the teenager's perfect ass at rest.
He stares at it for a long moment, taking a quick inventory of its hill and crevasses. His fingers come to rest gently on its rounded perfection and he traces its lines and curves, reverently, as if in worship. The quivering boy-butt is like something out of a Renaissance sculpture. He feels an overpowering lust for it, but also the keen appreciation of an art student coming across a masterpiece. A work of art made of flesh and muscle, gristle and fat. It intoxicates his senses.
Grant is aware of the intensity with which his bottom is being observed and catalogued, by sight and by touch. He blushes a deep red, but his cock responds narcissistically, becoming harder, poking almost painfully into the mattress.
The pool-man uses the teenager's lush backside as a pillow, resting his head against it briefly, loving the way its muscled softness caresses his cheek. But the lure is too great, and he turns his head again, his chin resting now on the lower buttocks. He gazes at the half-spread crack between these amazing twin mounds of boy-flesh, then closes his eyes, opens his lips, and begins to burrow between them.
Grant gasps as the pool-man's face pushes between his butt-cheeks. He's never felt any sensation to compare with this one: the softness of the man's lips, contrasting with the slight brush of stubble on the chin that rests against his skin, causes his body to shudder, to sing. No one has ever touched him in this way before. Only his doctor has ever been so close to his most intimate place, and he never put his face there.
The image almost makes him laugh, but the sensations coursing through his backside and up his spine soon obliterate that ludicrous notion. The laugh on his lips turns to a moan of complete surrender. Despite the inevitable tension such pleasure ensures, Grant feels his buttcheeks relax, parting slightly to allow more unfettered access to his lover's mouth.
Scott's lips are acutely attuned to the pliant young flesh beneath them. His hands grip the teenager's flanks, spreading them apart. His tongue glides and swoops along the rim of Grant's butt-crack, moving forward in languid yet inexorable swaths, toward that cherished spot the boy has offered up to him.
His senses reel. His nostrils flare, opening to the scent of the teenager and breathing him in deeply. It's both clean and earthy, a combination of soap and musk--the smell of sexual arousal mixed with sandalwood.
He moves his tongue in long, unhurried swipes, tracing the inside of the teenager's butt while avoiding the pink ribbon of wrinkled flesh at the apex.
There are few things the pool-man loves more than the feel of ass-flesh on his tongue. His reaction to rimming is a heady mix of sensations: the sense of the forbidden, and the astonishing intimacy of having his mouth between another male's butt-cheeks. There is, in his mind, no more open and giving thing a man can do than surrender his anus to another. It's a form of love, one that says Here is my most closely guarded secret, and I give it to you. Putting your mouth here is something akin to worship. For a top, it is a pleasurable means of surrendering power, of abasing one's self in the most positive fashion imaginable. I place my tongue in your ass; I am your willing slave.
As always, the activity causes his cock to lengthen more than he thinks possible. It throbs and aches, as though an electric current runs directly from his tongue to the tip of his glans. Nothing he does with another man excites him quite as much, or makes him harder.
His tongue is moving in slow, easy circles, decreasing the space between it and that most desired place in gradually diminishing increments. He can feel the subtle differences in flesh tone. What is already silken, velveteen, becomes even softer as he nears the hole. It's a delicious paradox: the puckered membranes are somehow smoother, more liquid, than the muscle that encloses it.
Grant, meanwhile, is almost out of control with the pleasure of what is being done to him. His body's instincts take over, and he involuntarily pushes his butt up at the face engaged with it. His large dick presses into the mattress as he grinds his hips. His entire being is aflame, all sensation centered in, and emanating from, his ass. The feel of Scott's warm, wet tongue between his cheeks spurs him to a kind of controllable madness. He bucks, forcing his butt against the pool-man's face, delighting in the way the stubble of the man's chin scrapes his delicate flesh. His asshole spasms in anticipation.
Scott's tongue zeros in now, and the tip finally makes contact with the exact center of the teenager's anus. Grant yelps, shudders, buries his head between his arms as the moist flange sweeps across and directly onto his porous opening.
The reaction is precisely what Scott has hoped for. He urgently turns the teenager over onto his back, places one palm beneath each globe of butt-flesh, and lifts the kid's ass to his lips. He attacks the hole with renewed vigor, slipping his tongue inside the pliant opening and pressing forward.
Grant's sphincter slams shut momentarily as he moans in ecstasy. When it relaxes again, the pool-man's tongue slides in further, washing him with a jolt of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. When his mind clears, which it does only momentarily, he is utterly astonished by what's going on. This man has put his tongue right inside my asshole! The thought makes him groan more intensely. The pool-man's tongue is warm, wet. Flexible and yet hard, insistent. It probes without hesitation. It slices deep, pushing its way past the tight ring and upward, into the burning heat at Grant's center. When it withdraws abruptly the teenager feels suddenly cheated--bereft.
But it's only a momentary respite. Scott pulls out and quickly rolls them both over. He places Grant on his knees and lies beneath him, maneuvering himself so that the young man's butt hovers above his face. Then he grips the luscious butt-cheeks in both hands and pulls the glorious backside to his lips. His tongue instantly shoots up the moist, well-prepared hole, making the teenager squirm and moan.
The pool-man is in the grip of the unstoppable obsession that takes hold of him whenever he eats an asshole. His cock is now so hard it actually aches, and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his existence with his lips on this boy's butthole.
His new position allows him to furrow further, probe upward more deeply, which he does. He thrusts his tongue in and out, fucking the sweet, slick boy-hole, making its owner groan uncontrollably and push his ass down with increasing urgency. Scott has only been rimmed a couple of times himself, but those sessions are so vivid in his brain that he knows precisely what the teenager is going through. He's experiencing a pleasure of such unexpected amazement that almost every other act in life pales by comparison. The feel of a man's tongue inside you is the most intoxicating possible act of sex. For Scott, the only thing as agonizingly blissful as receiving a rim-job is being the one who gives it.
He pauses again, aware that he's pushing it. At his age, Grant may be able to cum several more times today, but Scott isn't ready for him to shoot just now. He wants that orgasm, when it comes, to be the result of his cock buried deep in the teenager's rounded ass.
He pulls out, reluctantly, and pulls the boy over on top of him. They lie there, kissing and stroking, as Grant regains his breath.
"You like that, puppy?" he smiles, his hand gently stroking the damp butt-flanks he has so recently been sampling.
Grant moans, falling over on top of him.
"Oh, my god, Scott! It's just--incredible."
The pool-man smiles, kissing the teenager's shoulder.
Grant looks down at him, quizzically.
"Why'd you stop then?"
"We needed a time-out."
"God! I thought I was gonna cum!"
"That's why we needed a time-out. Hey--I don't know about you, but I'd like something to eat." He stops, realizing how ridiculous that sounds and laughs, smacking the kid on his bottom. "Besides your butt, I mean!"
Grant grins at him.
They eat naked, staring across the table, alternately grinning at each other and staring with unabashed lust. Throughout the meal, their cocks never soften.
When they finish eating, it's all they can do to get upstairs without raping each other in the dining room. As it is, it takes them some time to move up the stairs--every couple of steps, they stop and their bodies crash together, their lips meet, and their hands clutch and grab at warm flesh. As Grant moves ahead, Scott is so taken with the sight of the hot teenaged butt swaying above him he has to hold onto it for another sweet moment. He pushes Grant onto his knees so his young ass is poised enticingly and his mouth dives between the soft cheeks, pushing through the tight membrane as the young man moans and shoves his bottom back at the pool-man's talented tongue.
When they finally make their laborious way to the steps, Scott lies on the stairs with the back of his head resting on the landing. He maneuvers Grant onto his knees, turns his face up toward the open cheeks, and attacks the teenager's asshole, his chin resting against the bottoms of the parted half-moons. As Grant humps back, the pool-man reaches around his thigh to grip his teen-cock while stroking his own achingly hard erection with his free hand.
Finally, they reach the bedroom. Scott lays the kid on his back, straddles his body so his own cock dangles above Grant's face, parts the teenager's asscheeks and, lowering his head, begins to lap around the moist, pliant hole. Grant, meanwhile, eagerly wraps his lips around Scott's throbbing, angry-red dick.
Sighing moans fill the room as they work each other over. Grant is a fast learner, and he uses his tongue on his lover's cockhead as though he's been giving blowjobs all his life. The pool-man's entire body moves, writhing: his hips buck forward, forcing his shaft deeper into Grant's ravenous mouth as his head bobs energetically above the teenager's open cheeks.
They remain in this position, mouth-to-cock and lips-to-ass, for a lovely eternity, their minds awash in sensation, their tongues licking and exploring, their dicks engorged and in danger of exploding. Then the pool-man slides out from under his tender young lover and gently places the kid on his elbows and knees. Coming up from behind, he slips his mouth between the waiting cheeks and reaches between them to stroke Grant's aching shaft.
In this position, Scott cannot press as deeply into the young man's tunnel as he'd like, but he can lift his eyes from his erotic task and gaze in deep appreciation at the perfect glory of the teenaged ass, the cheeks parted enticingly. With his palm, he can trace his way from the base of Grant's cock to its spongy head. When he feels the moistness there becoming a drizzle, he removes his hand and his mouth from the feast they're consuming, lies on his back, and pulls the boy close to his body.
They kiss, languidly, unhurried. Scott has a couple more positions from his rimming itinerary he'd like to introduce, but he's content to wait until the danger of Grant's incipient orgasm fades. He wants the kid to cum, all right--to shoot like a geyser--but not yet. Not until he's buried, cock-deep, in the young man's hole. Deflowering him for good and all, showing the boy what one man can do to another to facilitate an explosion beyond his youthful imagining.
It's coming soon, he thinks. Sooner perhaps than Grant realizes. He's determined to make it memorable.
"God, I want to cum!" Grant sighs.
"I know, baby. And you will. Just not yet." He kisses the teenager's nose playfully. "Patience is a virtue, remember."
"Yeah. I know."
"Trust me, sweet boy. I want to cum as badly as you do. It's taking everything I've got to keep from doing it. But it'll be worth the wait. I promise."
They doze, briefly, safe in each other's arms. When they wake, the pool-man knows, it will be to plunge headlong into a world of erotic wonder, with no stopping, and no turning back.
Scott wakes and looks over at the sleeping teenager nestled against him, his head lying on the pool-man's chest, rising and falling with each breath. The face in repose has a look of serenity, and Scott feels a sudden pang at the trust the kid has shown him, is showing him now. Emotion wells up in his heart, which for want of a better term he calls love.
He thinks about the way it began, in anger and with a certain violence. And now, mere hours later, their bodies lie together, suffused in a warm glow of sex and mutual desire. He smiles, kisses Grant gently on the shoulder, and rises from the mattress.
The teenager stirs, his eyes slowly opening. He looks at the man in his bedroom and smiles. Scott smiles back, leans down and kisses the young mouth.
"You ready for the next step, baby?"
"Look at my cock." The pool-man's eyes sweep across the boy's body and lock on his genitals. Grant's dick is alive, and growing. The shaft throbs against his thigh.
"Yeah," Scott says, ruffling the teenager's curly hair. "I guess you are."
He rummages in his uniform and pulls out a portable condom container. He opens it and lays it on the bed, then retrieves the K-Y and a pair of towels and places them next to the packs of rubber. He sits between Grant's open thighs, placing his hands on the teenager's knees.
"Okay, kiddo. I'm going to open you up. You've got to be relaxed and dilated, so just lie back and let me do the work."
Scott lifts Grant's bottom to his face, each palm holding a tender cheek. The boy sighs, and moves his body so that he's nearly bent double, his shoulders resting on the mattress, his legs spread and hovering over his head, his erection pointing down toward his face.
The pool-man stares at the beautiful, shapely buns for a moment. He begins to kiss the teenager's buttocks, moving slowly yet inexorably toward the center. Grant moans, his body trembling, as Scott's lips and tongue drift between his ass-cakes, drawn to his hole as if by a magnet.
Soon, the pool-man's lips touch the tight, wrinkled hole, kissing it. As the teenager hums with pleasure, Scott's tongue darts out and plunges straight at the center. The teenager's asshole tightens, then relaxes, and the pool-man forces the tip of his tongue inside the intoxicating heat of the boy's twitching, excited hole.
The angle of the young body makes entry simple. It also allows his tongue to slide deep inside the tunnel, where it washes the kid's ass-walls, probes and pushes, darting in and out now as the pool-man tongue-fucks Grant's butthole in gentle ravishment.
Scott's tongue emerges, and he takes the boy in his arms, lifting him from the mattress. He stands him against a wall, squats on the floor, his face level with the soft/hard pillows, slightly bronzed from nude sunbathing, spreads the quivering cheeks, and thrusts his face between them.
Grant gasps, writhes, pushes his butt backward, trying to get more of the pool-man's wonderful tongue up his rear. Of all the games he and this gentle, loving man have played, the rimming has been the best. There are, Grant knows, more nerves concentrated in his anus than any other part of his body, and Scott's attack on them is more pleasurable than anything he's ever experienced. It makes his cock surge, his balls draw up, his ass move about, and his knees weak.
The kid is ready for Phase II, Scott thinks. And while at this moment he loves sticking his tongue up Grant's behind more than life itself--the painful throb of his fully engorged cock is testament to that--he knows it's time.
He wraps his arms around the teenager and leads him to the bed, where he lays him out on his back. He kneels between the toned thighs, reaches for the lube, hauls Grant's legs over his shoulders, and squeezes a hefty glob of lube onto the fingers of his right hand.
This is the pool man's favorite fuck-position. He can delve deeply into the ass below him, even lift it up off the mattress, and still manipulate the other guy's cock or lean into a torrid kiss without breaking stride.
Wordlessly he moves his sticky fingers between the teenager's butt-cheeks and slathers the hole liberally. Grant moans, his cock dribbling pre-cum, and Scott's index finger slips its well-lubricated way inside the waiting hole.
The sphincter slams down briefly, then relaxes. Scott twists his finger around and around inside the hot rectum, loosening the muscle. Then the flexing digit slides upward, searching for the boy's prostate. He locates it easily, and when the tip of his finger touches its almond shape, Grant gasps, his muscles instantly becoming coiled.
Scott caresses the knot-like gland gently, then retreats, moving his finger far enough out so that he can finger-fuck the teenager. After a few moments, he adds a second finger, spreading Grant's willing ass-lips wider. Grant's body rocks, tensing and relaxing, as the two fingers begin their rapid in-and-out assault on his anus. >From his painful experiments, the teenaged boy could scarcely have dreamed how intensely erotic a finger could feel inside him. He arcs his back, pushing his butt at the probing, fucking digits.
With his free hand, the pool-man reaches for a condom. He uses his teeth to rip the foil open, then slips the rubber out. He squirts a bit of K-Y into the tip--a bit of lube in the reservoir heightens the pleasure--removes his busy fingers from Grant's bucking backside and uses them to force the air out of the condom's tip. Then he unfurls the rubber over his cock, so hard now with desire it almost hurts to touch it.
Once the condom is securely fitted, Scott squirts an extra-large helping of goo on his cockhead and spreads it up and down the length of his penis. Then he re-lubes his fingers and, starting with one and briskly adding a second, and proceeds to further dilate the teenager's wet, randy hole with a third finger. He uses his hand like a speculum, forcing the ass-lips wide.
When he's satisfied the boy is ready, he removes his fingers, slides forward on his knees, aims his dick, and lets the head kiss the teenager's anus.
"Just relax, baby," he whispers. "I'll go as slow as possible. If it hurts you at all, make me stop. Okay?"
Grant nods his assent, closes his eyes, and braces for what's coming.
Scott leaves the head where it is, pushing slightly against the pliant wrinkle of flesh, getting the teenager used to the feel of a man's cock at his hole. After a moment he feeds himself, millimeter by slow, steady millimeter, to the boy. The head moves forward at almost imperceptible increments, allowing the ring of tight muscle to adjust to the hard, foreign object.
The pool-man concentrates completely on his movements, refusing to hurry the process. The tip rests inside the heated furnace of Grant's virgin boy-hole, gently squeezed by the muscle that, until now, has never known the touch of a penis. He barely moves, letting the head move of its own accord and the almost imperceptible relaxing of the teenager's anal ring. Before long, he feels Grant's butt-lips first loosen and then grip half his cock-head. Three-quarters now, and then--with a suddenness that shocks him, makes his gasp--the crown slips inside fully, pulled inside by the teenager's eager ass.
Grant gasps loudly as the head becomes fully embedded.
"Does it hurt?" Scott asks with alarm.
Grant shakes his head, reaching for breath. "No! No--it--it feels wonderful!"
And it does. He's been afraid--terrified, really--of this assault on his asshole. But because his lover has taken infinite care, there is no pain. The feeling is odd at first, almost like needing to shit, or as if a bowl-movement was, in contravention of the laws of anatomy, attempting to force its way back in. But this passes quickly, replaced by a sense of wonder. There's a cock in my butt! Grant thinks. I've actually got a man's dick inside me!
He squeezes down involuntarily, making the pool-man cry out in ecstasy as his rock-hardness is gripped by the boy's ass-muscles. Scott lowers his face to Grant's and kisses his lips, hard. As he does so, his sticky fingers pinching the teenager's hardened nipples, his shaft slides all the way in.
The feeling is incredible, as it always is when he has his dick up someone's butt. But there's an added frisson now, a realization that makes his head reel. He's fucking a virgin. But more, much more: he loves this young man--loves him with an intensity of passion that shocks him. In a moment he feels his balls lightly tap against Grant's buttocks. He's in. Fully.
He luxuriates in the feel of the boy's tight wetness surrounding his cock. He lies atop the teenager and kisses his mouth, murmuring the teenager's name, over and over, like a prayer.
"You doing okay, baby?" he asks.
Grant shudders, nods, smiles, his eyes two dancing lights.
Scott can feel Grant's cock, rigid and wet, against his belly.
The teenager sighs happily, stroking the pool-man's arms.
"Fuck me, Scotty," is all he says.
In the event, it doesn't take long, just as Scott has supposed. He's too turned on by what's happening, by the exquisite feel of this boy's asshole surrounding him, by the love he feels churning inside his breast. Grant too, the pool-man knows, is close. He can feel the drizzle of the teenager's pre-cum on his belly mutating to a small stream of warm jism lubricating their skin, bonding the two male bodies in a baptism of sexuality--the full embodiment of a union that is almost ecclesiastic in its passion. It's as though their souls are as wedded as the flesh that connects them.
Scott begins by twisting his cock around inside the teenager, scraping the pliant ass-walls with his hardness, making them both moan loudly. Then he arches his back and slides backward until he's almost out of the warm tunnel, only the head remaining, teasing Grant briefly before pushing back in, his balls lapping gently against the teen's moist butt-cheeks. He repeats the process, leaving his dick-head just inside the boy's rectum until Grant is groaning in delicious frustration.
When he's fully embedded once more, Scott feels his passion rising inexorably. He knows he has only to move his cock around slightly inside the boy's ass to spur on his on-rushing orgasm. He locks his lips on Grant's once more and is delighted to feel the teenager shuddering, thrusting his hips up, his butt back, crying out in a helpless agony of sexual release. As the boy's sphincter clamps and releases repeatedly on Scott's cock, bringing the pool-man over the top. Grunting loudly, he pushes himself forward as far as his shaft can reach and immediately fills the tip of the condom with a mind-blowing rush of cum.
The intensity of their orgasms stretch time, prolong the moment into eternity, erasing all thought from their minds and exploding throughout their sweating, heavy bodies. When they finally touch earth again, they kiss passionately, gratefully, their mouths grinding against each other, surrendering to the emotional and physical tide that washes over them. Grant's butt-muscles contract repeatedly, trapping Scott's cock in a velvet trap and making the pool-man cry out in delirium.
His cock softens gradually, but Scott is loath to remove it from his lover's grasp. He merely lies on Grant's body, kissing his lips, his face, his throat. Luxuriating in the warm semen that coats their bellies, the warmth and intimacy of his union with this remarkable, amazing man-boy, the precocious unexpected love of his life.
"Thank you, Grant," he whispers earnestly. "I love you. God, I love you."
"I love you, too, Scotty."
Grant holds his new lover, the man who has taken that wretched offering he has given with such gratitude and relief--the virginity he so fervently wanted to lose. Their breathing becomes steadier, more relaxed, and the teenager marvels anew at the fact of their physical union. The now-softened cock still enclosed within him feels as though it's always belonged there, and he doesn't want to let it go.
Eventually, of course, it slides out of its own volition. They lie, pressed together, suffused in the pleasurable after-glow of lovemaking. Grant can feel the limp rubber-encased dick between his asscheeks, the arms that hold him tenderly, and it's everything.
Their contented sleep is broken violently by the ringing of the telephone on Grant's nightstand.
Grant raises his arm, groggy with exhausted sleep and lifts the receiver from its cradle.
The teenager recognizes the voice of his cousin, and wakes up fully, alarmed. Oh shit! He thinks, He's coming over soon! What time is it?
His eyes focus on the clock. It's late. Later than he's expected. His cousin is due, the unasked for and unwanted chaperone his mother has engaged for the evening.
But the voice is slurry, and Grant realizes with relief that his cousin is drunk again.
"Hey, look, I'm not comin' over tonight. Think you'll be all right without me?"
"Yeah, don't sweat it." Grant keeps his voice level, casual, but inside his heart begins to race. We'll have all night, he thinks with rising excitement.
"Don't tell your mom, okay?"
"Okay. Sorry, Grant."
"It's all right."
"Okay. See you later."
He hangs up, lies back in relief.
"What was that about?" Scott asks.
Grant tells him. Scott's eyes register the fact of their aloneness with a glint of happy lust. He holds Grant close.
"Can uh, can you stay the night?" Grant tries to sound optimistic, but he fears the worst.
"Can, and will, baby. You couldn't tear me away from you with a crowbar."
Grant sighs happily. He looks into the pool-man's eyes.
As they gently clean each other's bodies under the warm spray, man and boy silently imagine the delights to which they can aspire this night and their dicks respond accordingly.
First, though, dinner. Cold chicken from the refrigerator--no waiting, no preparation. They're ravenous; their energies having been directed elsewhere all day, they eat like men starved. But not too much. Scott doesn't want anything as mundane as digestion to interfere with the evening's menu.
Scott watched Grant's beautiful butt as he puts dishes in the sink and returns the leftover chicken to the `fridge.
"Know what, Scott?" he asks, his body bent alluringly before the open refrigerator door, his buttocks parted invitingly.
"There's whipped cream in here..."
"You dirty child!" Scott laughs.
Grant turns around, grinning. He's holding a can of Reddi-Whip.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
The teenager nods, smiling broadly.
"All right, then. Come back over here. And bring the maraschino cherries."
"Never mind, just do it."
"Just stay there," Scott says as Grant stands before him, his young cock bobbing enticingly before him. The pool-man aims the can and sprays whipped cream all over the throbbing shaft, getting a nice big gob on the big glans.
"Hey! That's cold!"
"Your idea, kiddo. Turn around. Now, bend over."
Grant's butt opens and Scott, fully aroused now, digs a cherry from the jar. He spreads the lush young cheeks with one hand and, with the other, lodges a cherry against the teenager's hole.
"Yow! That's cold, too!"
Scott smacks the boy's butt, laughing. "Just squeeze those cheeks together, young man. It'll warm up soon enough. I took your cherry this afternoon, so I'm giving you a new one I can eat right out of you."
The pool-man turns Grant around. The whipped cream is melting, gobs of white oozing to the kitchen floor. Scott kneels, places his hands on the lithe young hips, and moves his lips toward the sweet, dripping cream on the equally sweet teen-cock.
He licks the head first, taking the bulb inside his mouth and savoring the sticky sweet cream. Then he laps at the shaft, licking it clean. Finally, he takes the whole thing in his mouth. It slides headlong down his throat and he uses his tongue to dissolve the cream that lingers on the hot young cock.
Grant holds the pool-man's head, throws back his head, and moans loudly. The whipped cream was cold, but Scott's mouth is warm, and loving. The little cherry lodged in his asshole has also lost its coolness. Somehow, it feels good there. He grinds his hips, thrusting his cock into the pool-man's throat, and his butt-cheeks squeeze the cherry, holding it in place. He can feel the juice dribbling out of his ass-crack and sliding slowly down his leg.
Scott turns him around again, and begins to lick the sweet cherry reside from Grant's thigh. He moves upward, his tongue slathering the teenager's perineum. When he reaches the tightly closed buttocks, he pries them apart and attacks the boy's juicy crack. Soon his ravening tongue reaches the cherry, enmeshed now tightly in the center. He pushes it a bit with his tongue, forcing it up, then sucks it out and into his mouth. He chews it slowly, lovingly, savoring the taste of fruit and hot, clean boy-butt.
When he swallows the remains, he releases his tongue once more, swabbing the delicate, puckered hole. The lingering cherry taste excites him, and he pushes his face deep between the teenager's squirming, quivering ass. He kisses the unprotected anus, licks it, forces his tongue inside it.
Grant groans. His hands go to his cock, and he strokes himself as he pushes his butt back into the pool-man's face. The change from cold to warm, cherry to tongue, has driven him wild. His ass churns, stabbing backwards. The tongue inside him rises, spearing as deeply as it can reach. He feels his balls draw up, senses the quake rising from deep within his ass. He reaches a hand out to the table, steadying himself. His other hand is a blur as he spurs his dick towards a shattering climax.
When it comes, it explodes throughout his body. It centers in his cock, but the electric current runs directly back to his rectum. He cries out as spurt after spurt of warm boy-cream splatters the table-leg and the floor. His ass is pushed back, tense, against the pool-man's face. The tongue inside his rectum is squeezed in place by a series of rapid, ball-busting spasms.
He falls to the floor and Scott follows, his eager mouth still pressed between the hot young buns. When he finally stops shuddering, Grant lies dazed as his lover slowly extracts himself from his butt and lies atop him. Scott's cock is rigid, a rock of flesh, and it slides serenely between his wet cheeks, resting against his still-throbbing ass-pucker. The tip of it kisses his anus, and he thinks, it belongs there.
He wants that cock inside him again.
Grant rolls over on the floor and smiles.
"God, that--that was incredible!"
Scott kisses him.
"Glad you liked it, baby."
"Know what else I'd like?"
Scott shakes his head.
"This--" he grabs the pool-man's hard prick "– inside that--" and pushes it between his legs once more.
"Where do we go, lover?"
Grant has been waiting for this.
"Downstairs. The pool-table."
He grins, giggling.
"You really are a dirty young pup!"
Grant rises from the floor, his cock dribbling a bit of ball-juice.
"Can you clean up while I get something?"
Scott watches the teenager lope upstairs, his rounded butt jiggling with each step. God, he thinks, I could just about live inside of that!
He busies himself with paper towels, cleaning up whipped cream, cherry juice, and a copious quantity of fresh boy-cum. When Grant returns he's holding a beach towel, rolled up and under his arm. In his other hand, he clutches condoms and lubricants.
Scott looks up at him, seized by his unquenchable desire for the young man.
Grant nods happily.
In moments they're downstairs, the large towel spread over the green felt. Grant jumps up, sits, holds out his hand, and beckons the pool-man to join him.
Scott climbs up, barely able to keep his hands off his aching cock as he stares at the naked, randy teen before him.
"I have this fantasy position," Grant says, smiling but blushing a bit. "Me on top, you on the bottom. Cock-to-cock. We kiss and stuff, and then you stick your dick in my ass and fuck me from below. Sound interesting?"
"Does it ever."
Scott can't quite believe the teenager's sexual precocity. But he's sure as hell willing to indulge it.
"But first," the boy says solemnly, "there's something I want us to do."
"You like 69?"
Scott nods again.
"Just try and stop me."
They scramble around the tabletop, getting into position. Grant lies on his back, his thighs spread. Scott, being shorter, mounts his teenaged lover from above. Their cocks, hard and throbbing, dangle temptingly over each other's faces. Grant wastes no time, gobbling the pool-man's dick in one, hungry gulp. Scott gasps and when his head clears, devours the boy's head and shaft.
The only sounds are the slurping of lips and tongues on hard flesh. Scott humps his hips, forcing himself on Grant, who responds with loving thoroughness, sucking the pool-man's cock like an expert, belying the fact of his own recent virginity. He shoves upward, his dick delving into Scott's eager throat.
When they break off, Scott maneuvers himself under the teenager and they kiss, languidly but with mounting excitement, their breathing growing more labored as their bodies clash together, cock thudding against cock.
Without a word of instruction, Grant reaches for the lube and begins administering it to himself. The pool-man gazes up from beneath him, turned on by the sight of his young lover, squatting over him and greasing up his asshole like a pro. The boy's dick bobs happily as his own fingers slip inside himself; Grant moans, thrusting his butt back onto his slick fingers, putting on a show for the man below him. Scott stares in open lust, glassy-eyed from the desire building up in his loins.
When he's ready, the teenager rips open a rubber, slips it over the pool-man's cock-head, and gently but urgently unrolls it down Scott's stiff, aching shaft. He carefully lubricates the condom-sheathed prong, then lowers himself back down, kissing his lover and slowly but inexorably moving his rump until it hovers just above Scott's rock-hardness.
At last Grant takes the man-cock in his hand and guides it toward his glistening hole. When the rubber-coated tip presses against the slick, wrinkled flesh, Scott grips the teenager's arms in a mixture of growing excitement and loving concern. But the boy will not be deterred: as the pool-man writhes in erotic delirium, Grant slowly sits down, forcing the stiff prick up his relaxed and waiting asshole.
Before it seems possible, Scott's cock is fully embedded in the boy's rump, and Grant lowers his body downwards, his lips seeking the pool-man's. As they kiss, the teenager begins to push his delectable butt backwards, impaling his ass, driving Scott's tumescence deep inside himself.
Scott is astonished. He's gripping the boy as his desire builds. When he feels the young asshole relax he thrusts his hips up, and his dick slices at the heaving, clenching ass-walls. He opens his eyes to see Grant above him, his mouth slack, his eyes clamped shut. His face is contorted in pleasure. The young man's penis is stiff as a board, gleaming with the driblets of pre-cum that ooze out and drip down the rigid head.
His eyes slowly open and he gazes down at the pool-man. His lips form a smile of such eroticized wickedness it takes Scott's breath away.
"Fuck me," is all he says.
That's all Scott needs to hear. All nervous concern is banished and his hips begin to buck, his ass arching off the tabletop. His dick moves in and out of the teenager's clutching hole, and Grant meets each thrust with a forceful push, his hot ass slamming back onto the pool-man's shaft.
Their rhythm is natural, frenzied but controlled. The youthful butt clenches and unclenches, expands and contracts, relaxes and tightens in concordance with the increasing speed of the pool-man's fuck motions.
Their connection is total. The heaving, shuddering mass that was two bodies is now one entity working like the proverbial well-oiled machine. The moment of wished-for bliss is approaching, and they do nothing to slow its progress. When Grant's cock explodes, shooting wave upon wave of creamy-white pearls, his asshole spasming wildly on the cock that fills it, he brings his lover to the edge and pushes him over. Scott is propelled to climax by the feel of his young lover's orgasm--the aching tightness that surrounds him milks his prick past the point of return and he cums, savagely, ramming himself deep inside the boy's churning ass, buoyed up to ecstasy by the force and passion of Grant's agonizing pleasure.
When it's over and their bodies smack together, sweat-soaked chests rubbing against each other, the kiss they find themselves lost in is profound. Their lips cannot get their fill. Their arms cannot hold tightly enough. Whatever doubts or fears or slight imprecations each may have felt about this thing that is happening are gone--banished by the more reliable heft and surge of their bodies in response to each other.
This is love, and they've consummated it.
Scott no longer concerns himself with the ethical implications of his involvement with this youth--this minor--because Grant is no boy to him now but a deeply cherished part of himself. And to Grant, the body that is still enmeshed with his own is not a separate entity but an extension of himself.
They kiss like lovers starved for truth. They hold each other tight, bound by something more powerful than law or convention.
Nothing else--no one else--matters. Only the two of them, now one, indivisible. There is no such thing as age, or difference. There is only this, the irreducible fact of each other.
They will fall asleep in each other's arms, their bodies melded together by the sweet cement of a young man's cum. And when they wake, which they will before long, they will begin anew. And tomorrow, there will be more of the same. Scott will leave the house, Grant's mother will return. Everything will go back as it was, but nothing will ever be the same.
The way will not be easy. There is work, and school, and there will be an urgent necessity to plan and scheme and engage in subterfuge. They will never have enough time together, at least for the moment. Life and custom may challenge them. There may be diversions and temptations and indiscretions. Tears, recrimination, hurt, and forgiveness may follow. But for this holy moment there is only soft sighs, light exhalations, the expressive click of kisses that burn and salve at once. The interlude will end, but that ending will be merely the beginning.