Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2002 03:48:35 -0500
From: NewYork Boy <nycanon@hotmail.com>
Subject: Swimming Lessons Part 2

If you are reading this, chances are you read "swimming lessons" part one,
in which case you know whether or not you are allowed to read this (not that
I really care).

If you have any comments, criticisms, or questions feel free to write to me
at nycanon@hotmail.com.  I try to respond to everyone.  (It should be noted,
however, that because these stories are true, plot suggestions are of no
real use to me.  Sorry!)

Enjoy!


After the episode in the shower, I went home feeling guilty, confused, and
more than a little horny (which only added to the guilt and confusion).  I
did my homework in a distracted daze, and barely made any effort to talk to
my family.  My parents assumed I was feeling under the weather, and sent me
to bed early.

As I lay awake in bed that night, I relived the whole scene over and over
again in my head.  Every time I closed my eyes, I was transported back to
the locker room.  I could still hear his footsteps on the wet floor as he
followed me to the showers, and the metallic "clink" as the shower door
closed.  I could see the lust in his eyes as he eyed me hungrily from across
the small, wet, shower stall, his throbbing erection threatening to burst
though his swim trunks.  I could smell his cologne, and the unmistakable
musk that emanated from his sweaty crotch.  I could still taste his tongue
as it probed and sucked my mouth, and his cock's velvety hardness. Lying in
my bed, I could still feel his hands against my skin, on my shoulders and
the back of my neck, as we kissed.  I could feel the heat of his cock in my
hand; I remember how it surprised me.  I could feel his cum running down my
cheeks and chin, slowly falling to the floor.

As my experiences played over and over in an endless loop, I tried to think
of something else, but to no avail.  The guilt I had felt earlier seemed to
melt away, driven from my conscious by images of my new best friend, and the
hot guy to which it was attached .  My eleven-year-old body shivered as I
thought of his touch, my skin tingling where he had held me.  My little boy
cock began to stiffen, trapped between the soft bedsheets and the softer
skin of my lower stomach (then, as now, I slept in the nude).

Unconsciously, I began to hump my mattress, as I imagined his hard manhood
slip past my lips.  I had never before masturbated, although I knew from
sex-ed what it was.  As I ground and slid my three inch dick across my bed,
waves of pleasure washed over my body, accompanied by a serene sense of
warmth.  Is I imagined my lover cumming, I recalled his soft moans and the
look of ecstasy on his face, his head thrown back, eyelids fluttering, mouth
open.

I continued to fantasize, only distantly aware of a tightening in my balls
that would soon grow very familiar.  As I frantically humped my bed, I could
only think of the pleasure I was feeling, and as it built and built, all I
wanted was to keep going up, to reach the next level.

There I was, thin legs pistoning, bubble butt bouncing, my back covered in a
thin layer of sweat, when it happened.  My first orgasm.  Humping like a boy
possessed, I felt in danger of floating out of my bed as a wave of intense
pleasure overcame me.  Collapsing exhaustedly onto my bed, I vaguely sensed
a hot, sticky wetness on my stomach as I lay there, euphoric.

After a few seconds, I rolled over to investigate.  Confused, I thought for
a second that I had wet my bed, until a now-familiar smell filled my
nostrils.  Semen?  Semen!  Could it be^×the stuff of baby-making, and
grown-ups, and, well, not ME?  There was only one way to find out.  Scooping
what remained on my stomach onto my index finger, I examined it up close,
and smelled it.  I looked the same.  It smelled the same.  Timidly, I stuck
out my tongue and gave my finger a little lick.  It was the same!  Proudly,
I stuck my finger in my mouth and licked off my first cum, savoring its
flavor, its texture, and the feel of it sliding down my throat.

As I sucked on my finger, I pretended that I was back in the shower stall,
with my man's cock in my mouth.  My own member responded, growing back to
its full three inches, its pink head staring me in the face as I lay there.
Thinking back to my shower encounter, I began to stroke it like I had
stroked his, with immediate and pleasurable results.  Such was the beginning
of a night (and a life) of masturbation.  I didn't sleep a wink that night,
instead bringing myself off almost a dozen times, my orgasms becoming dry
(but no less wonderful) by the end.  (I also tried to suck myself the way I
had sucked him, but was unsuccessful^×stupid ribs.)

The week that followed was the most agonizingly slow one to ever have
occurred since men have occupied the earth.  Every class dragged on in slow
motion, the insufferable boredom giving me plenty of time to fantasize.  The
girls (and boys) seated around me were invisible, they might as well have
been a thousand miles away.  All I could think about was that cock, and what
I did to it, and what I wanted to do to it.

When school finally let out the next Monday, I shot out the door in a flash,
racing outside to catch a cab.  In my stomach, angry butterflies voiced
their anxiousness, and my fingers and toes practically tingled with
excitement (meanwhile, another body part did tingle with horniness).  I
could barely contain myself in the taxi.  I had masturbated hundreds (well,
at least dozens) of times over the past week in anticipation.  Sitting
through cartoons as I waited to change was torturous, and I felt a deep
resentment toward the clock on the wall, as if it were ticking off the time
slowly, just to drive me insane.

Finally, however, 4:30 arrived, and, as nonchalantly as possible, I ran as
fast as I could to the dressing room.  I didn't even bother to look for him
as I changed, concealing my erection in my swim trunks.  My head swam as I
strolled to the restroom, sidled up to "my" urinal, and began to pee,
waiting for him to take his place at "his".  I wasn't disappointed.

I was what can only be described as elated when he took his place to my
right.  Although I tried not to show it, my ear-to-ear smile must have given
away my eagerness.

As he pulled down his swim trunks, he turned slightly to face me.  I did the
same, and we ended up facing each other, our erect members in our hands.  I
smiled up at him, and licked my lips in the suggestive manner I had gleaned
from TV actresses.  He smiled back, and slowly started to stroke his hard
on, his eyes ravishing my 90% naked body.  I reached out to grasp his cock
with my own young hands, but to my horror, he stepped back and pulled up his
swim trunks.  He must have seen the shocked and horrified look I wore,
because he bent down and whispered "Not here.  Follow me."  He then quickly
stuck his tongue in my ear, groped my ass, got up, and walked out of the
restroom, all in the course of two seconds.

For a second I stood there dumbfounded, my boy cock painfully erect.  Then a
mix of reality and extreme lust set in, and I pulled up my swim trunks and
headed out the door.

I followed him down the hallway to the showers, but to my surprise, he kept
walking, and turned down a hallway I had never been in.  As I walked down
the hall, passing door after fogged up door, I realized where we were: the
private steam rooms! (This was one of the more "well off" YMCAs, in case you
haven't caught on).  I passed many a sign stressing the need for prior
reservations, the limit of four people per party, and the fact that one
needed to be over eighteen to use the steam rooms.  Somehow I was not
deterred as I saw my man give a glance over his shoulder before slipping
into the very last steam room.  Half running, half sliding over the
steam-slicked floors, I reached his room, opened the door, jumped in, and
leaned back against the frosted glass door as I closed it, panting from my
exertions and my desire.

The room was small, perhaps twice as large as the shower stall of last week,
and completely covered in wet aqua-marine tiles.  A bench of sorts jutted
out from the wall all around, and it was here my man sat.

His glasses rested on top of his head, fogged up as they were.  He wore a
look of satisfaction as he leaned his toned body against the wall, an
unmistakable bulge making his arousal known.

Wordlessly, he began to untie the drawstring of his trunks, and I walked
over and helped him pull them off, my fingers brushing against his warm,
hairy legs.  He tossed them in the corner, and gently hooked his thumbs in
the waistband of my trunks as he sat down, pulling me towards him until I
stood between his legs.  Leaning toward me he gently kissed me on the lips,
pulling his thumbs out in order to put is hands on my neck and back, pulling
me closer.

My lips parted, and in slid his hot tongue, probing the depths of my mouth.
Feeling a sudden urge, I caressed his chest, running my fingers through his
thick gray chest hair.  He moaned into my mouth before breaking our kiss.
Kneeling down, he put his hands on my hips and took the waistband of my swim
trunks between his teeth.  He dragged them downward, moaning softly.  I
giggled when my little prick popped out and stuck him on the cheek, but he
just winked at me and kept going.  Soon, he had worked my trunks all the way
down to my ankles, and I leaned on his broad shoulders as I stepped out of
them.

After throwing my trunks in a pile on top of his, he turned to face me,
still on his knees.  My little boy erection stared him straight in the face,
and he didn't need any further invitation.

Grasping my butt cheeks in his large hands, he leaned forward and rubbed the
head of my boy cock against his lips, causing my to involuntarily thrust my
hips forward.  Smiling, he opened his mouth just enough to slip the head of
my cock through his lips.  Softly he began to suck and twirl his wet tongue
around my boy dick.  I was in absolute heaven.  Compared to his warm, wet
mouth and skillful tongue, my fervent masturbation sessions might have well
been done using cold sandpaper. Never had I experienced something so
profoundly pleasurable as my first blow job, and I haven't since.

My knees began to buckle, and I leaned on his shoulders again to avoid
crumpling to the ground altogether when he took my entire cock into his
mouth.  Faster and faster, he began to bob his head up and down, while he
squeezed and pulled at my ass cheeks, running a finger up and down my crack,
stopping at my asshole.  I stood there in pure ecstasy as he worshiped my
little cock with his mouth from the front, and gently prodded at my asshole.

When, he stuck a wet finger up my ass, however, I went completely over the
edge.  My boy cock spasming in his mouth, my entire body shaking, I let out
a series of soft moans (or squeaks, more likely).  Surrendering to the
pleasure washing over my body, I came in his mouth, and promptly collapsed
into his arms.

He sat on the bench for a few minutes, holding me.  I sat on his lap, facing
him, and straddling his thick, manly legs.  Spent, I leaned my chest against
his and lay my head on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck with my arms around
him, inhaling his smell, feeling his wet skin against mine.  We sat like
this for a few minutes, and he rubbed his hands up and down my back,
stopping every time to give my ass a soft squeeze.

He started to lean down and gently kiss me, on my forehead, my nose, my
cheeks, lips, neck.  He stopped to lick his right index finger, which he
then gently reinserted into my ass, slowly thrusting it in and out.

It was then that I noticed the extremely hard piece of man flesh that was
poking me in the stomach as I sat there.  Leaning back, I saw it stand and
attention, long and veiny, a strand of pre-cum running from my stomach to
the slit in its purple head.

Intensely aroused once again, I got up (he seemed to understand, and removed
his finger from my hot asshole).  Kneeling before him, he spread his legs,
and I grasped his cock with both hands and begun to slowly stroke it up and
down.

The look of anticipation on his face soon melted into one of pleasure.  I
stopped stoking, and he looked down at my face.  Gazing into his eyes with a
grin, I stuck out my tongue and licked the underside of his manhood from the
thick base to the soft head.  Pausing to take a breath, I opened wide and
wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, twirling my tongue around the
rim.  With one hand, I stroked the base of his hard shaft, and with the
other, I fondled his heavy, hairy balls, just as I had imagined during my
masturbation sessions over the past week.

Surely enough, after a few minutes the stream of pre-cum began to increase,
his moans grew louder and more frequent.  He put his hands on the back of my
head, and pushed his manhood further into my willing mouth.  After a moment,
I felt his cock grow larger against my tongue, and his balls tightened up in
my hand.  I have them a soft squeeze before putting my hand on his ass, to
make sure he didn't go anywhere.

I should never have worried.  With a long, satisfied moan, he let go, and
his cum began to flood my mouth.  To those who have never given head, cum
may not seen like a lot when you are wiping it off your stomach, but it can
be quite overwhelming when your mouth is suddenly full of it.  I swallowed
as quickly as I could, but some managed to escape and run down my chin.

When he finally pulled his softening cock out from between my lips, he bent
down on his knees and kissed me quickly, but roughly, on the lips.  Then,
stopping to look me in the eyes, he kissed me gently on the forehead, and
ruffled my hair as he stood up.

"Next week, sport," he whispered as he picked up his swim trunks.  He looked
at me and smiled as he stepped naked out of the steam room, swim trunks in
hand, leaving me tired, naked, and with a stomach full of hot cum.  In other
words, as happy as an eleven year old can possibly be.


That's it for this time.  Leave me a note at nycanon@hotmail.com if you
liked it, disliked it, have any questions, or just want to chat.
XOXO