Date: Sat, 8 Jul 2006 06:45:09 -0500 From: Justin Davis Subject: That Glorious Summer 01 by Justin Davis (M/t, mast, oral, anal) The following story contains graphic sexual scenes involving a young male and an older male. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. Additionally, the actions of the characters in this story are in no way intended to show approval of, or give sanction to, their actions. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. Positive comments are always welcome and you may e-mail them to Justin0398@gmail.com That Glorious Summer By Justin Davis Chapter One It was a particularly hot and sticky summer that year. Then, in Orlando, Florida, that's not that unusual. I guess the story of that summer began as I was reading the chapter in my Art History text dealing with the influence of Florence, Italy, on the Renaissance. Scott and I had been roommates since the beginning of our senior year, and deciding we had had enough of dorm life, we had hunted for a place to live. Fortunately, I had found a garage apartment, actually the old servant's quarters, located behind a somewhat drab mansion in what had once been an upscale part of Orlando. Mrs. Stevens, the little, gray-haired, old lady that still lived alone in the big stucco main house, was holding on to memories of times gone by. She was trying, the best she could, to hold on to the place she and her husband had built over half a century before in spite of the rising taxes. So, the former servant's quarters had gone up for rent. I don't know why, but Mrs. Stevens had taken a liking to me right away, she was sure to let me know she hadn't really been interested in renting to college students and had turned several down. Yet, she and I had seemed to hit it off, I think she liked my artist's eye for the fresco that adorned the dining room, and the deal was sealed. Basically, Scott and I wound up with a two-bedroom apartment that we could paint up and fix up any way that we wanted. The only hard and fast rule, and Mrs. Stevens had been adamant about that, was no wild parties. Friends visiting, and even spending the night was okay. However, the nice old lady had been quite clear that she expected proper decorum to be maintained, which was something that I found interesting in a neighborhood that was obviously on the decline. So, for the next year, Scott and I continued our undergraduate studies, me majoring in Art History and he majoring in Business Administration, and we had the usual ups and downs in our lives that college students have. From early on, Scott had known that I was gay, something that we really never talked about that much in detail. Oh, from time to time, he would make comments about the gay lifestyle, wondering what the hell guys saw in other guys. Yet, he just accepted me as who I was and let it go at that. I, on the other hand, shook my head often at his seemingly insatiable desire for cunt. "Hey, it's all good if you're drunk enough", he would say many times. Of course, I would laugh, knowing that in the gay world that is true as well, more often than any of us would like to admit. I would be remiss if I didn't say flat out that Scott was a stud. The third generation off spring of Greek immigrants, Scott could have instantly been a model for Michelangelo or any other great sculptor. Simply put, his abs were like they were chiseled in marble. His flashing green eyes held the girls spellbound. It was like Tom Cruise on a stick, and the chicks loved it, especially when he slid that eight-inch rod into them and fucked them senseless, the guy could hold off from cumming forever. As for me, well, for two years my tall, lanky-framed self had had an affair with a guy my age named Jacob. Jacob was also an art major, and Jewish. I must admit, I always found it fascinating that he loved my uncut cock so much, given the Jewish thing about circumcision and all. And yes, I heard about that many times over the course of our two-year relationship. In fact, he informed that someday he was going to do his own study on the sensitivity of the head of the penis between uncut guys and cut guys. Go figure! As soon as Scott and I graduated we immediately started graduate school, Scott working on his MBA and me working on a specialization in Art History and historical preservation. "Fucking God Damn Hell!" Scott had exclaimed one day, as he opened the letter from his mom that I had placed on the end table by the couch. "Uh, bad news?" I had asked, looking up from the textbook I was reading. "I fucking can't believe they are asking me to do this shit! I have to work six days a week and go to class, too. God damn! I mean I gotta be a fucking baby sitter on top of it all!" he exclaimed. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, nothing. Just the fact that mom and dad are going to go on a two month cruise out of Miami and they want me to take care of David," Scott replied, tossing the letter down upon the couch. "Your little brother?" I asked. "Yeah, "The Dork!" Scott replied. "Well, it shouldn't be that big a deal for him to rack up with us for awhile," I replied. "Fuck that shit! No way! Where the hell is he gonna sleep? What the fuck is he gonna do? I can't look after the little bastard all the time," Scott exclaimed. "Look, I'm just taking one class the first and second semester this summer. My stipend from being a graduate assistant and the paintings and sketches I sell are enough to keep me going so I don't have to work. I'll help you take care of him," I replied. "Aw man! He's such a fucking twerp!" Scott wailed. "Hey, we all were at his age. How old is he anyway?" I asked, Scott never having really said that much about his family at all. "He's fucking twelve years old. A fucking dork!" Scott replied. "I bet you were when you were twelve, too," I responded. "Fuck you!" Scott shot back. "Look, it isn't that big of a deal. We got cable TV and he can help keep the pool clean," which was something that Mrs. Stevens had insisted was part of our rent agreement. "I can kind of make sure he has stuff to do. Besides you spend most night's over at Karen's apartment anyway. He can sleep on the pull-out couch when you're here and in your bed when you're not," I said. "Yeah, I guess," Scott replied, a tone of resignation in his voice. For the remaining two weeks of June not much was said about David until the July 4th weekend approached. Scott's parents had booked themselves to leave that weekend and David was supposed to be picked up at the local airport on July 3rd. Scott began to grumble again about his little brother staying with us and had grumbled all the way out the door on his way to the airport to pick his little brother up. "Well, we're fucking back!" Scott remarked as he came in through the front door carrying a suitcase with his little brother in tow behind him. As I looked up from the charcoal sketch that I was working on, and turned my head toward the door, I was momentarily stunned by what I saw. I guess, for reasons that just seemed logical, I had expected David in someway be a carbon copy of his older brother. However, that was not the case. The baggy tee shirt and shorts the kid wore appeared to completely swallow his five-foot frame the same as the high top tennis shoes he wore seemed to swallow his feet. His straight, long, blonde hair, that hung down to his shoulders, his cobalt blue eyes, and his lanky almost feminine frame, were a stark contrast to his older brother's coal black hair, green eyes, and masculine build, as was his deeply tanned skin. In short, David was at that androgynous phase of development in which some boys have both a look of impending masculinity about him but still possess some soft feminine qualities. My artist's mind immediately thought of the bronze statue of David, by Donatello, and I thought that Scott's little brother could have served as the model. "Here's the dweeb!" Scott said, chunking the suitcase down on the couch, and causing his little brother to cut his eyes at him. "Welcome, David! I'm Justin," I said, getting up from my stool and moving out from behind the easel and walking toward the front door of the apartment with my hand out stretched. "Hi!" David replied, and shook my hand somewhat timidly as he glanced around the living room. "Look, I gotta shower and get to work. I'll let you two guys get to know each other," Scott said, and headed toward the back of the apartment and his bedroom. "Well, have a seat, David," I said, motioning toward the couch. "You have a good flight?" I asked, as the kid plopped himself down upon the couch and I sat down in the brown, leather, lounge chair. "Uh, yeah I guess," he replied, still glancing around the living room. "You guys got cable?" he asked, his eyes focused on the television set located in the middle of the entertainment center. "Yeah, we do," I replied. "Cool! I like cartoons and MTV!" "Yeah, I watch cartoons myself sometimes.". "You guys use the pool much?" "Well, every now and then your brother brings his girl friend over for a swim and sometimes I just go lay out and soak up some sun and swim a bit," I said. "I like to swim. I spend a lot of time at the club house pool near our house," David replied, causing me to take note that his voice was just beginning to get a little masculinity to it but was still a little feminine in its tone. "Yeah, I can see you've been out in the sun a lot," I said. "So, you paint and stuff?" "Well, I'm an artist, yes." "You paint that?" the boy asked, pointing to a copy of a seascape portrait Scott and I had bought at the Goodwill store to dress up one of the walls of the living room and prompting me to chuckle. "No, that's a copy of a painting someone else did. I did paint that one though," I replied, pointing to landscape I had done at the local park. "Wow! That's good!" "Well, thanks, David. These days I paint and sketch mostly for a hobby. My field of work is mostly going to be art restoration and preservation. I do sell some things every now and then at a spot in the park where local artists set up on the weekends," I replied. "Okay guys, I gotta git. I'll see you two in the morning. I'm gonna spend the night at Karen's after I get off work. You can have my bed, twerp!" Scott said as he hurried out of the back of the apartment toward the front door. "See yah later!" I said as Scott headed out the door. "Bye!" David chimed in. "Later you guys!" Scott hollered back as he closed the door behind him. "Well, you got anything in particular you wanna do or see?" I asked. "Uh, nah! Can I go for a swim?" the boy asked. "Sure, knock yourself out," I replied. "Cool!" David replied, and grabbed his suitcase and headed toward the back of the apartment. "The bedroom on the right is your brother's," I hollered after him, as the boy headed down the hall. Glad that at least the kid was going to entertain himself for the time being, I got up and went back and sat down behind the easel and picked up the stick of charcoal to continue working on the portrait I had started. In fact, I was either so intent on what I was doing or David was so quiet that I didn't notice that he had slipped in beside me and was watching me work. "She's got big tits!" the boy said, causing me to glance up from my work. Instantly, what I saw both shocked and astounded me. Standing to the side, just a foot or so away, with a towel over one shoulder and his hands on his hips, was David dressed in nothing by a yellow Speedo swimsuit. Almost naked, and his body no longer swallowed up by his baggy clothes, the kid was a sight to behold. His almost quarter sized nipples were a dark almond color and his tummy, which was already beginning to show the first signs of muscular development, had traces of blonde fuzz here and there that signaled his impending manhood. Quickly, I averted my eyes back toward the canvas. Yet, not before I had been made aware, by the bulge in the kid's swimsuit, that he was well on the way to equaling or bettering his older brother in terms of genitalia. "Who is she?" David asked. "Her name's Cindy. She's one of the art students and models that pose for the Art Department," I replied. "You mean she lets people see her naked?" "Yes, and she gets paid for it, too. There are guys who pose as well," I replied. "You mean college guys get naked so you can draw um?" the kid asked, somewhat astounded. "Sure, it's no big deal," I replied. " Man, I wouldn't do that for nothin!" David replied, prompting me to chuckle. "Well, you're a little young for that, although Cindy does have a wonderful nude portrait that she did of her son two years ago," I replied. "How old is he?" David asked, still standing with his hands on his hips watching me work. "He was eight at the time," I replied. "Wow! He let his mom draw him naked?" David asked in an astonished tone. "Well, it's just the human body, David. It doesn't bother some people to pose nude. In fact, both Cindy and her son Gary frequent the nude beaches a lot," I replied. "Yeah, I've heard about those," the kid replied. "Yes, with some people they are popular," I responded. "Well, I'm gonna go for a swim," the kid said, and headed for the front door. "Have fun!" I said, and was immediately ashamed at myself for staring at his firm, bubble butt, that sat atop his gazelle-like legs, as he walked toward the door. Over the next couple of weeks, David was either swimming, watching television, or going with me to the park that was only a few blocks down the street. In fact, we rarely saw Scott much, as I figured we wouldn't. Evidently, it was quite alright with him to let me be the entertainment committee for his little brother and I filled the role as best I could, not that I had to do all that much. David had fallen in with a group of boys about his own age that played soccer in the park almost daily and so while I sat up my paintings and sketches along with the other artists he would play soccer with the other boys. Rarely ever, unless we went out to the movies or the mall, did the kid ever seem to have many clothes on. Around the apartment, he wore either a pair of boxers or his Speedo, and when we went to the park all he usually wore were his tennis shoes and a pair of blue, silk, soccer shorts. In short, for someone who seemed so concerned about nudity David seemed to be almost nude all the time, not that I minded. In a way, I guess, I slowly deluded myself into thinking that it was my artist's eye that was attracted to David's boyish beauty. In fact, I was convinced that I had been so discrete in ogling his body that the kid had no idea that I was finding him more attractive to look at with each passing day. I was wrong. It was the last week in July, as a matter of fact the last Sunday of that month, when the boys broke up their soccer game early. David had come to me with a brown-haired kid, named Andy Waters, and announced that they were going back to the apartment and go swimming. Since I was still hoping to sell another painting or two, I remained behind and told them to have a good time. Eventually, however, it became apparent that it just wasn't gonna happen so I packed the two paintings and two sketches away in the leather carrying case and headed home. When I arrived, I decided to check on the two boys so I headed to the pool area that was located behind both the main house and the garage apartment. A high wall of hedges, with the exception of an open entrance, surrounds the pool area, and as I headed through the entrance what I saw made me stop dead in my tracks then quickly retreat behind the hedge. On a towel spread out upon the pool deck were David and Andy, both naked and in a sixty-nine position with David on top. Even though I had only gotten a quick glance, my suspicions about David's equipment had been correct. He had to have at least five-inches of dick and his low-hung balls were the size of walnuts, all of which was offset by a small, blonde, tuft of pubes. Andy, on the other hand, seemed to have only about three inches of peter and his balls were much smaller. Yet, I did think I had seen a few brown hairs just above the shaft of his pecker. Cautiously, I glanced around the corner of the hedge and watched the lurid scene as the two youthful vixens slurped on each other's dicks like candy canes, my seven-inch cock growing harder by the second. Then, I emitted a low moan as David repositioned himself so that his legs were on either side of Andy's chest, offered him his cut, fat, five-inch morsel for the sucking, and then began to face fuck his new buddy with wild abandon. At that age, it doesn't usually take long to get off and soon David's thrusts became more urgent and he let out a soprano squeal. Knowing full well that he was blowing his load into his new buddy's willing mouth at that moment, I almost creamed my shorts. Then, as Andy wiped the cum residue from his mouth, and repositioned his body and proceeded to fuck David's face in turn, I turned and headed toward the apartment, my cock hard from what I had just witnessed. Naturally, I didn't let on that I had seen anything as the two boys gobbled down the baloney sandwiches and chips I prepared for them later. Nor, did I let on to David, when we were alone later that evening, that I had witnessed their sexual romp. So, as David went back to take his shower, I went back to work on the charcoal portrait in an attempt to finish it that evening. "Justin, do you think I'm beautiful?" David's voice asked, prompting me to look up from my work and turn my head toward the hallway entrance. "Shit! Put on some clothes!" I exclaimed, greeted with the sight of a naked David standing in the doorway, though I could have looked at his cut, three inch, flaccid, penis and low-hanging balls forever. "Why? You said the human body is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you think I should be ashamed of mine?" he asked, walking toward where I was sitting. "No! You look fine! Now, go put on some clothes!" I replied. "Would you do a sketch of me if I asked yah to?" he asked, sitting himself upon the carpeted floor next to me cross-legged. "No! I don't think Scott would like that," I replied, averting my eyes back to the portrait I was working on, fully aware that my cock was beginning to harden. "Why? Cause you're gay and older?" David asked. "Yeah, that's one reason," I said,, not mentioning the other reason, which was the fact that I would probably have my face in his crotch devouring his dick before I even made one stroke with a stick of charcoal. "I'm gay, too." David replied. "You're too young to be gay. I didn't even realize I was until I was sixteen," I responded. "I've been doing stuff since I was nine," he replied. "What stuff?" I asked, wishing I hadn't. "Sucking dick, jerking off with other guys, puttin my peter in other guy's butts and them puttin theirs in mine," the kid replied. "Good God!" You shouldn't be telling me that shit!" I exclaimed, laying down the stick of charcoal. "Well, it's true," the kid responded. "Look, I'm over ten years older than you are. I could get in a lot of trouble if your brother or anyone else even knew we were talking about this stuff," I said. "I won't tell anyone. You're hard, huh?" David asked, then grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. "No! I'm not. Now go get some clothes on," I responded. "Yeah you are, I can tell by your shorts," the kid replied. "Look, we need to stop this and you need to go get some clothes on," I said, getting up from the stool. In response, David giggled, for by standing up I had made it totally obvious that my cock was indeed hard as a rock. "I told yah, let me see!" David said, and quickly got up off of the floor and grabbed the waistband of my shorts. "David, don't!" I exclaimed, but it was too late. Instantly, the kid shucked down my shorts and my cock sprung free. "Dang! You got a nice one!" David said, and reached out and took hold of my cock with his hand. "Don't, David! Please!" I exclaimed, any will power I may have had melting away at the touch of his soft hand surrounding my turgid member. "I want to!" He said, looking up at me. Then, he opened his mouth as wide as he could and bent down and swooped the head of my rock hard cock into it, which wasn't easy to do. Although seven-inches is a respectable length, the width of my penis is it's main asset. At over just about two inches wide from below the head to its base, more than a few guys have had getting it into their mouth, not to mention up their butt. "Oh please! Stop David!" I begged, knowing that I didn't really want him to. Soon, the kid was pulling me down onto the carpeted floor, using my hard shaft like a handle to pull me downward, and the room quickly filled with the sounds of our moans and slurps as we writhed in a frantic sixty-nine on the carpeted floor. Eventually, I warned the kid I was about to cum. Yet, with over half my cock in his mouth he continued to bob his head up and down on my meat, using his hand to help bring me off. I blew my load, causing him to grunt in surprise as my always-copious gushes of sperm filled his mouth. He swallowed again and again, like a champ, and used his hand to milk out the last drops. Then, he fucked my face with wild abandon, just as he had fucked his buds five hours before. I wanted to cum again as he squealed and began to squirt his sweet, tasty, offering, of boy cum into my mouth, and I swallowed it as if the gods themselves were giving me something to drink. There was no turning back after that, all reservations about having committed a felony blown away by the smell and taste of the kid's body. Yes, I would probably go straight to hell for it. But, I was going to have one hell of a time earning that honor. To be continued.