Date: Tue, 25 Apr 2006 08:20:09 -0700
From: aberration@hush.com
Subject: Popsicle Beach m/b

Popsicle Beach
By: Aberration

Story Codes: (mb, voy, oral, anal, mast)

Disclaimer:

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between varied ages, which may include adult/youth. If you find this kind
of material offensive, if you are not of legal age to read such material or
if it is illegal in your country, please do not read any further. My
stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they are
works of fiction, figments of imagination and any apparent similarity of
characters to real people is coincidental.

Expression should never be considered intent and I do not condone nor
endorse any of the activities included in these representations.


Comments are welcome at aberration@hush.com


Seems impossible it's been over forty years, a lot's changed, yet there is
quite a bit that remains the same. I had just completed my fifth year of
schooling but was still ten years old, my birthday being in August, staying
with my maternal grandparents for the summer months.

My name's Kenny Mason and I was small for my age, barely weighed sixty
pounds but wasn't skinny either, because I was only 3 foot, 6 inches
tall. Like all good white, Anglo-Saxon, protestant little boys of the day I
was circumcised, as was any limited exposures I'd had up to that time and
again in genetic truthfulness had a small penis, barely two inches when
excited and even smaller testicles then normal.

Now, here's one of the changes, being a very small town, there wasn't much
too keep a youngster visiting mostly strange surroundings busy, so I was
allowed to peddle the old bicycle grandpa kept for me out to the lake, on
my own. Oh, I knew all the `stranger danger' stuff, but like most of those
vague, usually hushed warnings, didn't put it together that it had to do
with sex, another extremely blurry and confused subject.

I wasn't a loner, but I didn't make friends easily and up until that
summer, hadn't enjoyed any of the typical youthful explorations into the
`nasty'. I only knew of erections, the explanation I was given by my
father, as the way your body keeps you from wetting the bed while you're
sleeping. Ours was not a touchy, feely sort of family either; hugs and
displays of outward affection were uncommon, except from grandma.

So it was getting to be mid June, the days were climbing into that dreaded
mid-western, hot and muggy, degree of temperature and I begin my journeys
to `Popsicle Beach'. Long Lake was the `town' name, which owned the area,
but it was open to the public, the concession stand bringing in all the
income needed.

It also began my entry into the mysterious world of sex, for I was prime
pickings for the boy lover that spotted me. Neal was a twenty-three old
graduate student if you asked him, a mooching bum that needs to get a job
if his father was allowed a word. He played Lacrosse of all things, but it
had kept him in great shape. He was well liked, a trust he used to his
advantage, and quite above suspicion, even though this would be his third
summer buying popsicles for new friends, much younger, impressionable and
available.

Not two hours past from the first moment he came up and introduced himself
until I was effectively his, he was that smooth, confident and well
practiced at his game. The next day he was there early too and seemed just
as happy as I was that we cared that much. We horsed around in the water,
all on the up and up, then after buying the first of what would dozens of
popsicles for me, attempted to teach me chess, spread out on our blankets.

He was there with me every day for the rest of the week and we only skipped
Sunday because that was church and family dinner day, my parents usually
arrive late Saturday to join us. That following Monday when he wasn't
there, I was disappointed, but then Tuesday came and he still hadn't come
and I started getting worried that he was mad at me.

See, he had invited me to go to his house and when I'd responded that I
couldn't unless I asked my grandma, he dropped it and said maybe some other
time, after I'd grown up a little bit and didn't always have to run home to
ask to do everything.

But Wednesday he was back and I was so relieved, because he was apologizing
to me. He said relatives had come unexpectedly and he'd had to visit with
them. He wasn't lying specifically, he just left out the part about the
twelve year old cousin he'd been bedding since he was just slightly older
then me and because of the excitement of chasing me was coursing through
his veins, put the lad through a most strenuous three days.

I chuckle now, for after figuring things out, I always got the mental
picture of the poor kid squirming on the car seat during his ride back
home, thinking his butt hole wasn't ever gonna be the same again.

So Friday afternoon I was more then eager, readily agreeing and Saturday I
pedaled over to his house about ten o'clock, like he asked. Startled by the
attire he answered the door in, something else I'd only seen in department
store catalogs, a loose pair of white boxer shorts, I only moved when he
threw an arm around my shoulder and rather abruptly escorted me inside. So
mesmerized was I by his muscled, lightly haired physique, I only half heard
his question, something about relaxing and it was just us guys, not much
different then a bathing suit, right?

I hardly realized I was taking off my outer wear as he watched, said
nothing when I was left in just my small, little boy tight white underpants
as he smiled and eyed me from head to toe, telling me what a fine young boy
I was and how I was developing just fine.  Then another taboo, we had soda
in the morning, sitting on the couch watching old reruns of the "Dead End
Kids" and laughing hysterically at Huntz Hall's antics.

Then he wanted me to sit in his lap, a shock to a boy who hasn't known much
physical sensation, but it soon felt like the best thing in the world, his
arms wrapped around me, softly telling me how much he liked me and hoped I
liked him back. Apologizing for making me nervous at first, but how pleased
it made him that I'd been `just one of the guys' and thanking me for taking
off my clothes and being with him.

By the time I had to leave for supper I was feeling pretty okey dokey and
slightly full of myself and everything was just fine. We couldn't see each
other til Monday, but that didn't dampen my happiness, making it just that
much more to look forward too as the pastor droned on and on and Sunday
never seemed to end.

Right there at the appointed time we spent the morning splashing and
swimming when I did notice that he would get me in a hug, hold me or find
some reason to touch me a lot more. He even wanted to put some lotion on
me, though I was long past needing any with my already Indian summer tan
and that was the first time his touch ignited funny feelings in my tummy,
my little penis erecting fully when he gently smoothed the slick fluid over
my immature chest with one hand, the other around my back and sort of
pinched my tiny nipples a little bit.

After he bought lunch, what boy doesn't love a hot dog or two, it looked as
though a summer thunderstorm was moving in, so we packed up, put my bike in
his car and he drove me home, where he finally had no choice but to meet my
grandmother. Over coffee he literally charmed her out of her petticoats,
smoothed over the fact that I'd already known him for over two weeks and
from that late afternoon, June 28th, 1965 until late August he pretty much
had carte blanche over me.

Starting with the next day as a matter of fact, the rain didn't dampen my
spirits because Neal drove over and picked me up, fitting in with grandma's
cleaning schedule and took me back to his house. Well, his parents' house,
his dad was the local banker and he and his wife were off on the Queen
Mary, leaving it pretty much, Neal's house for the summer.

I have for the life of me, tried to recall whether or not I'd seen him
excited before that day, but I can't truly remember. I was almost totally
naïve, but I'm almost sure that he must have been at some point or other,
especially during some of the water antics out at the lake. That morning
though, as soon as we'd gotten `comfortable', meaning we were just in our
underwear, we tussled, he tickled my ribs insatiably, leaving me red faced,
hiccupping, and for the first time, felt something warm and insistent press
against my bottom before he relented and let me get hold of myself. I do
recall looking through blurry vision and seeing the front of his shorts
pushed out when he retreated to the kitchen for our sodas.

The storm worsened as we played chess and we decided to call grandma, `who
thanked the nice young man for being so thoughtful' Neal would parody her
later on, sometimes to the point of making me red faced in anger and I'd
attack, which would wind up with me pressed beneath him, grunting and
struggling, slowly giving in too more of the touching, poking and tonguing
games he taught me so quickly that afternoon.

For the first time, the pleasure was all concentrated for me, for shortly
after knowing I wouldn't be going home, he brought up something else
new. Rubdowns or massages, talking about exotic ladies in foreign lands and
how it was the best thing in the world and shortly there after I was lying
face down on his bed on a towel and my undies. It did feel wonderful and I
told him so, so he turned me over and did more on my neck, shoulders and
chest, this time just rubbing my little nips in between his fingers
lightly.

The sensation was extremely pleasant and I sort of drifted into nothing as
he scooted down and wonderfully smoothed his hands over my hairless legs,
then paused and questioned whether I was ready for the best part, as I
opened my eyes and looked at him straddling me, hands on his thighs as he
leaned back on his calves.

"The best part?" I asked innocently and a puzzled frown.

"Lift up," he said, fingers hooking into my little boy briefs and I
instinctively assisted.

"Pull your legs out," he softly instructed, tugging them down my thighs
with one hand, the other lightly positioned on my belly.

He tossed the last vestige of my innocence aside and lay down next to me,
softly moving his hand over my small torso and telling me he would never do
anything to hurt me and he was going to show me something that lots of
older boys showed younger ones. It was all natural and that I shouldn't be
scared, or afraid to tell him I didn't want too, that if I said no, he
wouldn't touch me anymore. But, of course that meant we couldn't be friends
anymore either, because this is what friends did together, did I want him
to do it, did I want to be his friend.

I remember thinking how stupid that was, of course I wanted to be his
friend, plus, I still had no idea, though my inner sense did produce
caution and I asked him what exactly I had to do. I'll never forget his
response, as he nuzzled into my neck, allowing his lust to flow, the warm
breath on the fine hairs there sending shills through me.

"Nothing, my baby boy, nothing, just close your eyes and let Neal make you
feel good!"

The first few moments were much the same with his hands sliding on and over
me and I began to drift into that nothingness when a zing shot through me
and I gasped and rose up, finally conscious of my desperately stiff little
boy cock because Neal's fingers were playing with it. I just stared at it,
harder then it had ever been in the morning or at bath time, but now the
feelings were delicious and I soon moaned and lay back down closing my eyes
again.

An intense pressure was building up underneath my tiny balls, making it
feel as though I had to pee, but Neal just urged me to let it happen, no
peeing was involved and suddenly the most intense wave of pleasure burst
through and consumed me. My body tightened up and I was grunting like a
little piglet as my cock throbbed and vibrated between Neal's tugging and
pinching and I had my first dry orgasm.

After I returned back to semi-consciousness, we spent a lot of time talking
about it, with a lot of the puzzle now cleared up and of course the blood
sealed promise of secrecy. Most of the rest of that afternoon we lounged in
front of the TV, me in his lap and him almost constantly petting, me eating
up the attention. He never mentioned doing anything else, though he did
make a couple of trips to change underpants, his would get all wet and
nasty after awhile. I found out what that was all about that evening.

The day time became Kenny's time and the night time became Neal's time.

Does this deserve a second part?

Let me know if you'd like to hear how Kenny and Neal fair:

aberration@hush.com