Date: Wed, 23 Dec 2009 08:19:39 +0000 From: Josh Cock Subject: Simon's Boy Part 2 Simon's Boy Part Two Sam went straight off to sleep after his orgasm; he was exhausted, emotionally as well as physically. He snuggled in close, face against mine, and a hand holding mine. Only one other boy has ever slept with me like that, and I'm still in love with him, thirty years later. I had to get up for a piss just before dawn, and Sam's hand was still in mine. I had to gently unclasp it, careful not to wake him, and he hadn't moved when I slid back into bed. I took hold of his hand again, hoping that when he finally woke, it would be to find we were still holding hands. I eventually woke him about half past ten. I'd been awake for about an hour, and the temptation of his long, smooth, coltish thighs was, in the end, just too much for me to resist any longer. I reached across with my spare hand and stroked his warm, smooth skin, relishing the soft hardness of boy leg. It took a few minutes before the sensation of being caressed penetrated his sleep filled brain, then his eyes opened, focussed on my face, only inches from his and he smiled and squeezed my hand. I felt a surge of relief that this young creature showed no signs in the light of the morning of regretting his weed and alcohol assisted surrender in the pre-sleep hours of darkness. "Given me a boner," he grinned, happily, and I moved my leg stroking hand upwards and confirmed the truth of his statement. "Better do something about it," he said and pushed himself even closer into me. He so obviously felt no guilt or regrets about giving himself to me last night, and I had no desire to disappoint him now. I gently squeezed his boy solid cock, adoring every fraction of its four, slender inches. I traced my fingers over the shaft, hard as only a young teen's can be hard, loved the slight, torpedo head and played with his long foreskin while he murmured his happiness in my ear. He wriggled a bit, slipped his free hand down and found my own hardness, wrapping his slender fingers round it. "I think yours wants to play, too," he giggled. "I think you're right," I smiled at him and hugged him tight. He took the hug as a cue for kissing. First thing in the morning kisses are usually best avoided, but Sam didn't know that and went for it eagerly. His mouth tasted of stale weed, gin and tobacco, and mine must have been the same, but it didn't seem to bother Sam, and I was more than willing to put up with it if it meant our lips were pressed together and our tongues probing inside each other's mouths. Our hands were busy as well, fondling, squeezing and rubbing, adding to our mouth fuelled lust. All kisses have to stop some time, and ours finally did and when my mouth was free, I whispered tenderly into his ear, "You are just fucking gorgeous, Sam." And he was; what slender, smooth, naked and eager thirteen year old boy isn't? "Thanks," he whispered back, and then, as though reading my mind, he begged, "Suck me again, please." "Liked that, did you, Sam?" I teased him. "Fuckin' loved it," his face splitting into another wide grin. "Then I'd better do it for you, hadn't I. Can't disappoint a boy, can we?" "Can't disappoint a man, either, can we?" he teased back, another of his lovely, young teen, giggles. "Yeh, alright," I conceded, "I love sucking your cock." "I'm gonna suck yours too," he announced. "You don't have to, Sam, it's not compulsory." "You want me to suck it for you, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question. "Of course I fucking do, but that doesn't mean you have to do it." "Of course it fuckin' does!" he snorted. "Anyway, I want to. So who goes first?" "There's a better way than taking turns," I told him, and introduced him to the concept of a sixty nine. "Fuckin' wicked" he chirped happily, "We can suck each other at the same time! Wicked. Let's do it!" "I've got to warn you, though, Sam," I said, "I have one, special rule about cock sucking." I knew I was taking a risk, but if he was happy to give me a blow job I might just as well see if he'd do it properly. "What's that?" "If it spunks while you're sucking it, you've got to swallow." "Of course," he stunned me by saying. "That's the proper way to do it, init? It's what you did last night." "Yes, but that doesn't mean you have to. I can warn you when it's getting close and you can wank me to a finish." "Bollocks!" he snorted. "You're gonna make me spunk in your mouth ain't you?" "Yes, but..." "So I'm gonna make you spunk in mine. Fair's fair." There was no way I could argue with that, not that I wanted to! He gave another of those ear to ear grins and chortled. "Spunk for breakfast. Wicked!" "Good for you," I chortled back, "Pure protein, non- fattening." He giggled uncontrollably, wriggling around on the bed. "Wanna health food breakfast? Suck some cock!" "It's good for supper, too," I put in, joining in his mirth. "So I noticed!" he sniggered. He looked at me with those jet eyes and his face went serious for a moment. "You're something else," he said, "You make me laugh." "Yeh," I said, "But right now I want to make you spunk." "Me too," he agreed, the serious moment gone, replaced with something much more urgent. One of the advantages of a sixty nine is that it can't be successfully done under the duvet – one of you will suffocate! So the quilt had to go, which meant I could admire Sam's nakedness for the first time in full daylight, see if my eyes confirmed what my hands had reported. I hauled the duvet off us and threw it on the floor and just gazed at Sam's naked body and he let me gaze. No self-consciousness, no embarrassment at being so openly ogled by a man fifty five years older than himself, he just lay there and let me look. He was perfection! Those long legs swelled from knee to groin in a perfect curve; narrow hips and a perfectly flat, tight stomach, no hint of pre-adolescent puppy fat; a waist so waspish that cat-walk girls would have murdered him for it, leading the eye up to a slender, adolescent chest with countable ribs topped by two perfect, brown nubs that begged to be adored by fingers and mouth; narrow shoulders with just the beginnings of muscle both there and on his upper arms: Donatello might have immortalised him in bronze, Michelangelo in marble, though both have certainly fucked him first! "You are fucking beautiful, Sam," I breathed, huskily. "Absolutely fucking beautiful." He let me look at him for a bit longer, and then broke the moment by being a boy again. "You gonna suck me cock or just fuckin' look at it?" he demanded with another impish grin. "Oh, most definitely suck it," I said, breaking my trance. "Thank fuck for that," he grinned and we both broke into a laugh. We organised ourselves side by side so we could both have easy access to the bits we wanted to indulge in. Sam's four inches stood hard against his stomach and I had to pull it down to swallow it comfortably. This meant, of course, that his cock head was pushing against my hard palette with my tongue underneath when he was fully in, but that was only going to make things feel better for him. Mine had lost the ability to stick out at such an angle many years ago, even with herbal assistance, which meant Sam could pull it into any position that was comfortable for him, ideal all round. There was no need to go hard at this one; Sam had proved he was in working order last night, and that had been so important to him. Now he could relax and enjoy the things I was doing to him without the pressure of having to prove he was old enough to have those things done. "Do what you want with it, Sam," I told him before we started, "Except bite it! And if you find you don't like sucking it, just play with it instead." "Don't matter if I like it," he said back, "I'm gonna do it anyway!" I thought that was a bit of a strange thing for him to say, but I wasn't going to argue with him, so I started sucking him instead. I started by licking him, from root to foreskin tip, just to tease him a little with the promise of things to come; then I went for his balls, taking them into my mouth one at a time, before cramming them both in together and working them with my tongue. His totally smooth sac was a joy to munch, and from the whimpers and gasps he made, I knew he found it a joy to have it munched! He tried to copy me and sucked my balls, and though he couldn't get them both in at one go he still produced a few whimpers and gasps from me! When I used my lips to ease his skin back just a little way, nowhere near enough to force it and hurt him, just enough to expose the ultra sensitive bit underneath which I then washed with my tongue, he had to stop sucking me for a bit in order to cope with the brand new, powerful sensations I was sending through him. He tried doing the same for me when he got his breath back, and did it quite well! Sam wasn't a `natural cocksucker.' What only just thirteen year old boy, with a cock in his mouth for the very first time, is a natural cocksucker? But he tried, he copied me, he was a quick learner and I loved the feelings he was giving me. Of course, having your cock in any thirteen year old boy's mouth is a pleasure, but Sam didn't just have my cock in his mouth, he was trying his best to make me enjoy being sucked as much as I was making him enjoy being sucked, and he was making a good job of it. I enjoyed his smooth thighs and beautiful, firm buns while I sucked him. I longed to get a finger into his crack, but thirteen year old boys are not always as clean there as they should be, so I resisted that temptation and hoped there'd be another chance and I could make sure he was well washed first. I can think of no better way to spend time than making lust to a willing, eager and luscious thirteen year old boy, and make no mistake, this was pure lust! Yes, Sam was a nice kid, he amused me and in our brief acquaintance he'd given promise of being the sort of boy I'd like to have around, but, above all, he had a gorgeous young body and he seemed happy for me to enjoy it. Enjoy it I did, doing my best to give his young flesh the best time it had ever had, and I knew from his reactions that he was already convinced that getting sucked was miles better than doing your own wanking! When his young mouth got tired with sucking my thick cock, he laid it against his cheek, wanking it slowly with the palm of his hand or two fingers and thumb, and that felt amazing. He tried copying the way I'd brought him off last night, just the tip in his mouth and rubbing furiously and that started to bring me close. I didn't stop him, I had the impression he wanted to make me spurt and we had been doing each other for a good half an hour, so I just came off his cock for long enough to say, "Keep doing that and you'll get me there," then went back to swallowing him. Sam simply opened his mouth wider, put the entire head in and rubbed hard. I know when I first took cream at the age of fourteen it was something I desperately wanted to do. Having that boy orgasm in my mouth then, was like having a different, but wonderful sort of orgasm of my own. I don't think it was like that for Sam. I think he took my spunk because he thought it was something he had to do, something he'd promised himself that he would do, because it was what I had done for him. Whatever his reason was, when my cock produced he didn't pause, just kept rubbing it and taking the spunk, never gagging and never pausing. I felt him swallow the main load and then he was sucking hard at my head, easing the skin back with his fingers so he could get every last oozing. When he was sure there was no more to come, he eased his mouth off my satisfied organ and just breathed, "Fuck!" I made noises to let him know how much I'd liked what he'd done for me, then shifted his position so he was over the top of me and could drive his cock down into my mouth. I moved his hips for him to let him know what was required and he started to fuck my face, slowly at first, then, with the feeling of driving his cock head into my hard palette, with my tongue underneath, forcing him hard against it, he started to pick up speed as the need to orgasm took over. He rammed his cock in hard and I thought how wonderful it would be to have him fuck my arse like he was fucking my face, and now I wanted his spunk, really wanted it, wanted him to shoot hard in my mouth, fill me with his cream. He didn't fill me, of course, he was only thirteen and only been spunking for a week, but it was a brave effort, and he certainly produced enough, and thick enough, for him to give me a reasonable breakfast! "Shit!" he yelled as his orgasm hit. Then he shouted loud, "I'm spunking!" as he unloaded and gave my taste buds a treat. When the shuddering stopped, I got back up to the pillow end of the bed and pulled the duvet off the floor, throwing it over us. Sam deserved a cuddle for his efforts and I gave him one. "Fucking fantastic, Sam" I said. "Thanks." "Fuckin' ace," he said, "Loved it!" "Fag time, I think," I said and reached for the necessary, Sam produced his saucer from under the bed and we lit up. I had to cuddle him, so I put an arm round him and he leaned into me. I was beginning to think he liked being cuddled! "Best fuckin' spunkin' I ever done," he confided as we spoke. "You ain't done that many, yet," I grinned into his ear, "I'm sure you'll have better ones." "Yeh, maybe, but that was fuckin' awesome!" "Good, glad you enjoyed it," and he got another squeeze. "Was it good for you, too?" he wanted to know. "Do you really need to ask?" "Yeh, want it to be....." and the he realised I meant he really didn't need to ask and gave that ear to ear grin again. "Wicked," he breathed and smiled to himself as he puffed his fag. If there's one thing almost as good as having sex with a boy, it's having that boy happily cuddled up to you afterwards, and there was no doubt in my mind, that Sam was one happy boy! I was a happy man as well! There was no post-orgasmic regret in young Sam, no nagging thoughts that he shouldn't have done what he so obviously enjoyed doing, and no chance he might accidentally let something slip to an outraged and vengeful parent – Sam's father was in the next room and it had been his idea that I should sleep with his son in the full and certain knowledge that I'd have his boy's cock if I got half a chance! "You did the weed and booze stuff so you could get at me cock, didn't you?" he said out of the blue. I have to admit I was at a loss for words, this thirteen year old was no fool. "It's ok," he grinned when he saw me trying to work out an answer "Just tryin' to see if I got things worked out right in me head. Anyway," and now he showed just a tiny bit of embarrassment, "it's sorta sexy talkin' about it." "And you like talking sexy, do you, Sam?" "Yeh," and again that big grin, "Just have to think sexy, most of the time, ain't got no-one to talk sexy with." "What about the kids at school. Haven't any of them got decent, dirty minds?" "Yeh, course, but that's all pretend stuff," he said dismissively. "You don't mind, do you?" A touch bothered now, that he might be getting something wrong. "Don't mind at all, Sam," I reassured him. "I love talking dirty, too, especially when it's with a rather beautiful boy who's just fed me his spunk." "Wicked," he grinned again; then got back to his original question. "So that why you gave me the booze an' weed?" I didn't know how to answer that. It was true, and that was the problem. His father had given me an opportunity and I wasn't going to miss out on it. If getting young Sam pissed and stoned meant I might have a chance to find out if the contents of his knickers were as good as my imagination thought they would be, then get him pissed and stoned. I might have the chance to go exploring while he slept it off. Not the most noble of thoughts, but I wasn't trying to be noble, I was simply after a boy's cock. I couldn't just tell him that, though. It might be the truth, but it didn't seem like the best way of giving me a chance to get his cock again, and I wanted his cock again, be in no doubt of that! He would know that any outright denial was a lie, he had, after all, guessed my true motive anyway. So I hedged it a bit, not denying it, but not admitting it was the only reason for what I'd done. "Not quite, Sam; I didn't think it fair to leave you drinking lemonade while Si and me got pissed and stoned; and, yes, since he'd put us in the same bed, it's true I did think it just might give me a chance to get inside your knickers if you were totally wasted." I could see Sam absorbing the information, storing it away, and I began to have a suspicion as to the reason. "Neat," he smiled, not at all put out. "An' when you decide you wanted to get in me knickers?" "When you answered the door I thought you were tasty," I said, truthfully, no point in being anything other than truthful about that – a bit of flattery never goes amiss with a boy - "And after a few more looks I thought it'd be good to find out if you tasted as good as you looked." Sam chortled happily. "Wicked," he sniggered, "Thought you wanted me cock when you kept looking at me, like you was trying to see through me jeans." "That obvious, was it?" I grinned with him, though I did think I'd been a little bit less transparent! "Yeh. It was cool, though. Made me wanna tease you a bit." "Like when you pretended to be asleep when I had my hand under your top?" I was on a bit firmer ground now; instead of Sam asking me why I'd done things, I could ask him, make him give me answers. "Yeh," he sniggered, "Did you notice I wriggled about a bit so you had to go a bit lower down?" "Didn't realise that was deliberate," I admitted, slowly, starting to wonder just who had seduced whom. "Yeh, wanted to see if you'd put your hand inside me jeans as well." Sam was obviously very pleased with himself, his teasing had gone undetected. "Certainly wanted to, but thought I'd better not just in case you woke up and threw a wobbly." "Guess I might have done," he said, thinking things through. "It was a bit soon to let you have me cock then, might have spoiled things." `Might have spoiled things'? Been `a bit soon'? Just what game had this boy been playing last night? "You did intend to let me have your cock, then?" I looked at him quizzically. "Dunno," he mused. "I was def thinkin' about it, just not sure, like." "So when did you decide?" I wanted to know exactly how much I had been responsible for Sam's seduction, or was it, really, Sam's seduction of me? "When you was havin' a piss, I thought, bollocks, go for it; if he makes a move I'll let him, might as well find out what it's like to get wanked off." "Got more than wanked," I reminded him. "Yeh, well, when you said the ol' man never did some things, I thought, fuck it, I fuckin' will!" "Fucking glad you did," I said feelingly. "Yeh, so am I," he smiled happily. "An' you had him for years, even though he didn't give that much," Sam mused. "Yeh, well," I smiled at the memory, not at all picking up on exactly what Sam had said, "He had a nice cock, and he wasn't mean with it." "You gonna want to have me lots, or just this once?" It was an odd question for a just thirteen year old boy to ask, especially a boy not experienced in sexual matters, but the circumstances were unusual, there aren't many thirteen year old boys you take to bed and discuss the sex you had with their fathers! "Lots, I hope," I said earnestly, "You got a lush body, and you certainly aren't mean with it!" He propped himself up on his elbow so his chin was resting in his hand and looked at me with a hint of mischief, and something else I couldn't define, glinting in his dark eyes. "You gonna want to have me for years?" he asked. "Let's say, I'll lust after your flesh until you got far too many pubes and horrible, hairy legs," I grinned at him, again, suspecting nothing beyond a boy wanting to be a bit more than a one night stand. "Cool," he said, still that slightly faraway look in his eyes, "That won't be for a bit, and then I can always shave!" "That you can," I agreed with a smile, "Keep yourself smooth and perfect for me to indulge in." "Yeh, no probs," he said, and somehow I had a feeling he was saying it to himself, not to me. "And now, Sam, unless I am much mistaken, you've got this all sorted in your head, along with what we said last night, fitted it all into what we've done, and you're going to relive it all, word for word, action for action, when you have a fucking great wank tonight," I said, interpreting his curiosity as simple dirty mindedness. "How'd you guess," he chortled, snapping back into the present and not in the least put out by my suggestion, and not in any way correcting it. "Because I am as well," I chortled with him. "Wicked," he said. "Can this put up with a bit more?" I asked, slipping my hand down to his soft, but oh, so delicious cock." "Don't know if it'll spunk again," he said, seriously, warning me of a possible failure. "Doesn't have to, all it has to do is let me enjoy it." "K, go for it," he grinned and rolled away from me onto his back. I went straight down, getting him in my mouth before he got hard. One of my favourite things is sucking a young boy from soft to hard, and I have to say that feeling young Sam grow to his full, rampant four inches in my mouth was a wonderful feeling. I didn't try to make him spunk, I just enjoyed him until I thought he might have had enough of me fondling his body and getting his cock sensitive to the point of almost painful; and then I came up, thanked him and was rewarded with another long, deep kiss. "You are fuckin' somethin' else," he said, repeating an earlier statement, and we got out of bed, put clothes on and went into the living room where Si was on his morning bong and where Sam delivered his atomic bomb shell. "Josh wants me to stay with him for a bit," Sam announced.