The Dancing Boy of Adam's High

The Dancing Boy of Adam's High

I shuddered, quivered, and throbbed, pushing forward and deeper with each explosive ejaculation of my seed depositing deep into his tender bowels; my arms under his almost barren armpits and locked over and onto his shoulders; my bare chest and stomach resting on his equally bare, smooth, hairless, youthful back as his round, delicately formed ass cheeks pushed back against my groin as he attempted to impale himself to even more depth than my six inch probe would allow. My egg-sized balls slapped up against his smaller, almost hairless, snugged up baby-makers, presented to me through the smooth crevice of his young legs, spread wide enough to accommodate me in my previous frenetic forward and back motion as I fucked this beautiful young specimen of burgeoning manhood. With each pulse of my essence spurting up and out the swollen crown of my staff, his now-not-so-virgin sphincter clenched my rod, squeezing the vestiges of my seed from me. Squealing with delight as I rubbed his love button with each pass in and out, until, with one last gasp, I pushed and pushed in a final ecstatic jolt! Never, never, in my twenty-one years of life have I experienced such an intense orgasm – it was, to be perfectly honest – AWESOME!

I began to relax, temporarily you understand, from my climactic high, and felt his right hand begin to travel down to his own turgid, thumping, four or five inch cock as he decided to bring himself off. Grabbing his hand, gently so as not to hurt it or the object it was in the process of seeking, tonguing his ear delicately, bringing shivers up and down his spine, I whispered, "No; I'm going to bring you off with a blowjob, swallowing all your little swimmers deep into my heather regions. I want to taste all of you and claim you as my own!"

At the insistent behest of my younger sister, Jenny, I returned home from the University a fine fall weekend to attend, of all things, the high school musical variety show in which she and a partner had two appearances. I'd graduated from Adam's High School three years previously and was now in my senior year at the university, majoring in Business Administration. This was the last production she'd be in, since she too was going to graduate, only in the coming spring.

Her begging convinced me I should be the dutiful, loving older brother and attend at least one of the three performances to be held on this weekend. Although I'd not returned to my old high school for any events previously and really didn't desire to, it didn't take a great deal of begging on her part; I love my younger sister and was noticed long in advance by my parents she was going to ask me to attend. I hemmed and hawed just long enough to frustrate her a bit. When I finally said, "yes," I thought she'd explode into tiny sparkling bits, showering the world with her effusive, shining brilliance like those colorful sky-burst rockets fired on the Fourth of July. Separated by just a few years, we were close and more than just siblings, we were best friends.

I cut a Friday afternoon class so I could arrive home before she had to leave to prepare for that evening's one performance. Entering the front door, overnight bag in hand, I was met with a squeal of delight from her and a warm, tight hug, signifying her happiness. In amidst of trying to say my "hellos" to mom and dad, Jenny chattered on concerning her role in tonight's performance and her partner in two particular dancing and singing numbers. Their performance was backed by an ensemble of other singers, but they were the featured artists – not in one, but two different times during the show. Their first number was during the first half and the second, after intermission.

"You just can't miss it; will you Danny?"

I assured her I wouldn't and asked, "Who's your partner in this dance-a-long or whatever you call it?"

"Robbie McKendrick; he's a freshman, but really talented. You'll love him, Danny, really!"

Furrowing my brow, searching my memory, for the life of me, the only Robbie McKendrick I could recall used to live next door to Grandmother Price on the east side of town but I thought he moved.

"Jenny, do you mean the little guy that lived next door to Grandma Price? Isn't he somewhat smaller than you?" My memories of Robbie were as a small, delicate, fine-boned youngster.

"Well, look at me, dimwit – I'm not the tallest girl in school and I'm a senior!"

She was right there; Jenny was the shortest in our family, standing maybe five foot two inches. Mom was five foot four inches and Dad was the tallest at five foot, eleven inches. If I stood really, really straight, I could manage five foot nine inches and on a good day, weighed about one hundred thirty-five pounds. Obviously, none of us were tall or large framed either, so who was I to talk?

"He's my height, maybe a little taller," she continued, "and weighs maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet; besides, he's cute, has a great voice, and can dance like Baryshnikov, light on his feet and fairly floats across the stage."

Alright, I'll try to give the kid his due; if Jenny says he can dance and sing, then he can dance and sing, but I didn't come home to watch him. No, I came home to watch my sister, beyond that, nothing else. It was fully my intention to leave the next afternoon for campus. Not that I had anything special planned, it was just there was no one special here for me either.

"Well, Sis, be that as it may, I'm certain I'll enjoy your performance tonight!"

Jenny pouted, somewhat uncertain of my intentions. "You know, there are three total performances; one tonight, the afternoon matinee tomorrow, and the final performance tomorrow night. You're staying for all three, aren't you?"

The plea in her voice deflated my plans for leaving. I figured one performance of a high school musical would suffice my cultural appetite for at least another ten or twelve years.

"I promised Mom and Dad, Danny, you'd help supervise the `strike party' here at the house after the final performance tomorrow."

"What in the hell's a `strike party'?"

"It's a party for the cast, crew, musicians, and directors after the last performance; you know, when they `strike' the set or tear it down for the final time. Mom and Dad said we could have it here in the family room and garage. I worked all week clearing out the garage and setting up tables. All the moms and dads are getting together and providing the soda and food. We'll have chips, sandwiches, cakes, and all sorts of goodies. Please?"

My shoulders slumped; how do you say "no" to your kid sister? She's been my strongest supporter; attending my track meets (even when I was losing) while I was in high school. Jenny was always present at band concerts and vocal concerts and, most importantly, accepting me as her gay brother! It was the very least I could do.

"Okay! I'll go back to campus and Sunday."

I just love it when a get a big hug from someone who loves me- even if it is my own sister!

Standing in line, at the ticket window in the vestibule outside the Adam's High School auditorium waiting to purchase my ticket, I couldn't help but notice how the school hadn't changed that much since my graduation. The faces in the crowd and the students hustling about, handing out programs, ushering, and carrying musical instruments, were different, but the high school appeared pretty much the same. My memories of high school were pleasant enough, but not spectacular, if you know what I mean.

Staying to myself, other than my participation in band, chorus, and cross-country track, and conscious of my own sexuality, unwilling to expose it to others, I chose to closet myself and shut the rest of the world, other than my sister and parents, out of my life and secret. It was damned hard to do in high school, especially if you're shy and not the macho athletic-type guy. There're plenty of other guys bigger than me, who, I'm certain if my eyes lingered too long on his cock in the locker room, would just as soon stuff me in a garbage can and spray paint "fudge-packer" on my hall locker. No thank you; life is complicated enough as it is without that adding to it. Besides, I'm basically chicken-shit! Mom and Dad are okay with my sexual preferences and so is Jenny, but I have serious trepidations concerning how others might handle it.

Adam's High School's the only high school in our town and fairly large by most standards in our part of the state. There're about fifteen hundred students in the four grades. On any given day fifty to one hundred are absent; some sick and some just sick of school and attending because someone made them or there was nothing else to occupy their time. I went to school because I enjoyed it! Not that I was popular, far from it; I was basically a nobody, one of those who went to school, lived in the shadows, and tried to stay inconspicuous. I'll be one of those guys at the twenty-five year reunion that classmates recall me as "Danny who – never heard of him!"

There are times I stand in front of the mirror and wish I was a better looking guy, but I'm just sort of – plain; ordinary looks on an ordinary man; nothing spectacular that'd make another fella look my way twice, or even once. People say I've a nice smile, if that's any consolation and I'm really smart. Yay!

I'd look around in the locker room after physical education or track and see other guys with better builds, more muscles, infinitely more attractive than me, and nicely shaped, heavenly delicious looking, lovely dicks. They made my almost six inch sprig look pretty small. I didn't dare risk sprouting a chubby so I thought of the most distasteful, disgusting things to cause my willy to wilt; like Mrs. Harrison, English 11, on the third floor; the teacher with the blue hair and saggy tits, dancing naked on her desk, thrusting her ancient, dusty, white haired pussy at me. Yuck! The very thought of it would cause a four day corpse pumped full of embalming fluid to soften and go limp. I'd quickly shower, wrap a towel around my waist, head for my locker, and dress.

There must've been other gays in high school when I attended, but I was just too wary and shy to seek them out. I hoped college would be different, but it was the same. Oh sure, there are LGBT organizations and gay couples on campus, but again I'm just plain reluctant to become engaged with them. Actually, I'm just plain afraid; more of myself than anything else. What would happen if I met someone, fell head-over-heels in love with him and he didn't love me back? I don't think I could take the disappointment. Better be safe than sorry, I reasoned.

Jenny certainly wasn't the shy one in our family. Every time I came home, she'd ask if I had a boyfriend yet. If I answered in the negative, as she knew I would, she'd suggest this guy or that one, who might still live in town, and I'd decline her attempts at matchmaking. No matter how many times I did, she'd persist and then push me to go to an LGBT meeting on campus. I'd say I would and then not go. Finally, I thought, this year she's given up on trying to line me up with someone since I've been home a couple of times before today and she's said not word one! I think she gave me up as a lost cause.

Our seats for tonight's performance were center stage, seven rows back, and ideal. I thought we were extremely fortunate to get seats such as these until Dad explained this front section was reserved for parents of cast and orchestra members. Either way, they were great seats! When I was in high school, I always sat in the balcony – clear to the top, back in the last row. There were no reserve seats just those few short years ago; must be a new principal or something.

The lights lowered and the small pit orchestra began a light overture, a medley of some of the arrangements to be played, danced, or sung that evening. Perhaps I was mistaken, thinking things hadn't changed much in four years; the music was quite nice, very nice in fact, well-rehearsed and musically talented. Their attacks were spot on, each note sounded with clarity and each musician respondent to the conductor. Maybe, just maybe, I was the one who was changing.

The curtains opened as the orchestra finished their overture and the full ensemble of singers and dancers entered from stage left and stage right, breaking into song as they entered. I spotted Jenny right off, but couldn't locate her partner, Robbie McKendrick. There're plenty of good looking boys on the stage, but no wimpy, nerdy kid like I remembered. The number finished, the group left the stage, and the show progressed. Every time the ensemble gathered on stage as backup to a solo, duet, or small group, I perused the crowd diligently, but again had no luck.

The last number before intermission was the musical routine Jenny and Robbie McKendrick were to perform together. The curtain opened on a darkened stage; a spotlight, small circle shining on the stage, illuminated only the four feet of the two performers. The spotlight widened as they began to sing. I couldn't tell you to this day what it was they sang, but it was a love song, a haunting, tender, love song. The spotlight continued to widen until Jenny and Robbie were totally visible to the audience.

Shit! No wonder I couldn't spot him previously! Standing next to my sister wasn't a wimpy looking little nerd, but a handsome, lithe, elegant, fucking gorgeous young man with a tenor voice and smile you'd die for. Standing an inch or so taller than Jenny, his dark hair contrasting with her slightly blond, brown hair while his eyes accentuated sparkling white teeth as he smiled; Robbie possessed the slim body frame of a dancer, swimmer, or runner with an upper lip decorated with just a light dusting of facial hair often found on the face of those just entering or newly introduced to the delicious age of puberty. I could only imagine his nether regions were as sparsely decorated by sprigs of black, curly hair as well.

The two of them sang and waltzed across the stage; Robbie leading Sis professionally, enhancing her performance with his own- not upstaging her, but assisting her, giving her incentive, encouragement, and preventing mistakes on her part by his practiced, light, rhythmic gliding motion across the stage. They broke apart, the tempo changed, and they came back together, not in a waltz this time, but in a fox trot. They broke apart again and the music shifted to a sensuous, exotic, romantic, and (I felt) highly sexually charged song and dance number. As they spun apart, each dancing on his or her own, Robbie looked directly at me, smiled, and seductively wiggled his hips, pointed at me, and crooked his finger in my direction as if inviting me to join him in a sexual, dancing tryst. My God, I damn near came in my shorts! I decided my imagination was working overtime. Maybe Jenny was correct; I needed a boyfriend! This kid was a high school freshman, just on the cusp of manhood, probably just beginning to shoot his wad within the past couple of years, and I'm a college senior, for God's sake!

Their second number was set in sort of a cabaret and the song and dance routine centered around that theme. During Robbie's solo, while they performed, he sang and danced his way to the front of the stage and, twisting his hips seductively, thrusting his lean torso forward, as he slowly moved his hands up his thighs to his abdomen, he smiled, winked at me and spun away to join my sister so she could perform her solo as well. I'd like to say I enjoyed it as much, but alas, I fear I cannot. I was so hard I could've driven railroad spikes through oak boards. At home, after the performance, to say I was confused or didn't blow a massive load of white, sticky goo into an old sock would be bald-faced prevarication.

I casually mentioned, at breakfast while trying to stuff my mouth full of toast hoping to appear nonchalant, I enjoyed the performance so much, "I think I'll go to the matinee as well;" hoping my lame excuse was acceptable and believable. Jenny's response, as well as Mom and Dad's, was enthusiastic and encouraging. I wished I could've said it was Jenny I was watching, but it wasn't; it was that cute, firm, young and inviting buttocks of Robbie McKendrick's, while at the same time wondering what kind of package he sported under his costume. Mom fixed sausage and eggs to accompany my toast and I lingered at the table longer than usual after finishing my meal – just making small talk. I never quite envisioned a sausage link as an erotic item before. Need I say more?

Robbie's performance at the matinee was just as exciting to me as his performance the night before. The ease with which he glided across the stage, either in concert with Jenny or alone, was fluid, poetry in motion, sensual, and indicative of his talent and skill. Each time he turned to stepped to stage front, he'd look at me and smile. His cabaret number was slightly different from the night before. He added a more pronounced "bump and grind" and wiggled his pert, fourteen-year-old tusch in my direction in a, well, more meaningful manner; almost inviting me to partake of his young offering.

I reasoned, after the performance, the final show was but a couple hours away so, rather than waste time and gas, I decided to hang around until then. Besides, there's a pizza parlor just a few blocks away where I could eat. Just to make certain of having a good seat, I did buy my ticket for the evening performance before departing for food. Mom and Dad, along with the other parents, would have things well-organized for the strike party, so my absence wouldn't be a major hindrance or obstacle. I really needed some time to think; think of that dancing boy and what I'd do or wouldn't do with him at the party.

I know one thing I wouldn't do; make a brazen, bold, sex-starved attempt to bed him as much as I wanted to sink myself balls-deep into, what I envisioned, his hairless, tiny, pink, delightfully fuckable, anal orifice. No, I'm really too withdrawn and shy for that and it pissed me off! I needed to grow some balls! Well, I had balls; they came as standard equipment. They were a rather nicely shaped set of low hangers, if I do say so myself. I often questioned, however, if they made my dick look smaller than it actually is, since my egg-sized wobblers drew more attention from some of the guys in the locker room at college swim class My mind raced, filled with anticipation, excitement, dread and fear!

Jenny spotted me as I stood outside in the lobby waiting for the auditorium doors to open. "I thought you'd be here again," She smiled, not in an offensive manner, but in a knowing, caring, happy way.

"I couldn't very well miss the final performance of my sister's song and dance number, could I?"

Grinning again, she patted me on the shoulder. "I told you he was cute!"

God, almighty, my face turned red. She knew damned well why I was there.

"Go for it Big Brother!" she admonished and slapped my butt as she trotted in the stage entrance to the makeup room.

I loved his final performance. Robbie seemed to dance and sing just for me, forsaking all others in the auditorium, giving, what I thought, was a masterful performance. I watched with delight, carefully covering my lap with the show program. Sadness overwhelmed me as the cast took their final curtain call. This'd be the end of my voyeuristic affair with Robbie McKendrick. In the morning, I'd return to the University and continue being a wall flower, a nobody, secreting myself in the shadows of fear and uncertainty which often seemed to grip me when all I really wanted was someone to love and love me even with all of my failings, insecurity, and lack of handsome features. I'd just be plain, drab, boring, dismal, Danny Price; a gay guy with nobody but Mother Thumb and her four daughters to provide for my love life.

Our house seemed awash with happy parents preparing tables of goodies and soda for their performing sons and daughters. They had much to rejoice and celebrate since the variety show was a resounding success. I overheard one of the ticket sellers comment that each performance was sold out. Singers, dancers, musicians, and stage crew members began arriving by the carloads. Younger members, who weren't old enough to drive, rode with those who could. One of the last car loads to disembark was my sister's. Clambering from it was a gaggle of giggling, euphoric high school students, and a quiet, but enchanting Robbie McKendrick. Robbie, carrying a gym bag, spotted me, grinned, and walked over to greet me.

Standing in front of me, cherubic smile on his face, he raised his eyebrows quizzically. "Got a place I can put this?"

I almost responded, "bend over and I've got something I'd like to put in –real deep," but discretion's the better part of valor, so I restrained my increasing libido, although my little soldier did a valiant attempt at saluting, confined as it was in my jeans.

"Put it in my room."

Leading him there, it never occurred to me to ask why he brought a gym bag; I assumed it was costumes or clothes, sweaty and smelly as a result of his vigorous activity during his song and dance routine during the performance, he intended to take home and laundry. He plopped the bag down on my double bed, grinned again, and with a wink, said, "I'm hungry; let's go eat."

Hell, I would've driven to Madison and back just to deliver a sandwich to those soft, sensuous lips, but, instead, I followed him to the garage where the tables of food were surrounded by students and parents, all talking at once.

"Go ahead," I offered, "you've worked a lot harder than me; all I did was watch you dance –and dance well, I might add."

Damn; I wish he wouldn't smile so fucking cute at me!

Robbie began going through the buffet line, a plate in each hand, putting items on each. He couldn't possibly be that hungry and certainly not that big a person to handle all of that food. Stepping toward the table, intending on telling him I'd get my own, Jenny intervened.

"I told you he was cute," she reminded me once again.

I just nodded, so entranced was I by the Adonis in front of me, I was barely aware of her presence.

Robbie, balancing both plates, tilted his head toward the family room, indicating the direction he was traveling, and I followed him, like a moth to the flames or, in my case, the head of my dick toward a warm portal. He walked to the small couch in the corner, again tilting his head that I should join him, raised his eyebrows questioning if this was acceptable, so I numbly nodded my approval, and we both sat down – close, real close!

Robbie handed me both plates, gave me a wink and smile, and with an easy graceful stride, moved toward an ice chest and, bending over, the curves of his buttocks firmly defined by the tight jeans he was wearing and the cleavage quite evident, pronounced, and accentuated by the seam of his jeans bisecting the firm mounds, was elegant to behold. He looked seductively over his shoulder and proceeded to wiggle that beautiful object of pleasure in my direction as he sorted out a soda for each of us.

I could've opened that can of soda with no hands if he'd set it on my lap! Robbie rejoined me on the couch and we started to eat. My occasional glance at his crotch caught sight of a nice, tight, firm bulge just above the plate he balanced on his lap only stiffened my desire for him. Trouble was, he wasn't the only one with a bulge in their pants, but I'd have to wait for him and everyone to leave before I could exercise the kinks out of it.

"So, Danny," he inquired in a soft, melodic voice, "you're a senior in college. What's your major?"

I wanted to say "you" but instead squeaked out "Yeah- Business Administration."

I continued to squirm as he looked at me with those dark fawn eyes. I wanted to readjust myself, but with the crowd in the room, fearing what I was doing was just too obvious, I'd just have to contend with my steel-hard prick rammed against my jean's zipper. Perhaps, I thought, if I could dispose of our plates, I could perform the adjustment as I stood. Robbie, seeming to be helpful, considerate, or accommodating, decided to dispose of our plates instead, thwarting my feeble plan. Reaching for my plate on my lap, not from the front toward my knees, but at the opposite side (if a plate can have a side), the back side where it rested up against my zipper, brushed my dynamic dick, causing it to throb a couple of times. He just couldn't have missed the thumping, throbbing, wooden, willy tucked in my pants. He hesitated, resting the back of his hand there, just a bit longer than I thought necessary but thoroughly delightful.

Finally, moving his hand up and down, supposedly to get a better grip on the plate, he secured the plate, and along with his, tossed them in the garbage and returned to sit next to me. His right leg pressed up against my left, adding to my distress. As we visited, he leaned close, ostensibly close because, according to him, the noise in the room made it difficult to hear. His breath wafted delicately across my cheeks and ear with each word he spoke.

Listening to him, it was evident Robbie was indeed a freshman, but a very talented one, in dance, vocal, and swimming and, at the urging of my sister, tried out for the fall variety show and, paired with Jenny, was accepted. His folks noticed his interest and talent in dancing at an early age and placed him under the tutelage of a private dance instructor. She brought him through the ordinary steps of waltz, two-step, polka, and cotillion to formal ballroom dancing and was now introducing him to ballet. Robbie wasn't certain about that because he felt it might interfere with swim team, specifically diving, which he loved.

The evening seemed to slip by so quickly, our conversation liquid, flowing with the familiarity of persons who may've known each other for years instead of just hours such as Robbie and me. It was personal, one-on-one, intimate, with little interruptions from the others at the party. I found the difference in our ages mattered not a wit, trifle to the joy I found with Robbie and apparently him with me. It was so easy to visit with him, our conversation enhanced and emphasized by casual touches, smiles, knowing looks on our faces as we discussed our current state of life and future plans. The hour came, alas, when parents announced it was time to break-up the party and head for home. I feared I'd be the proverbial Cinderella, my carriage turning back into a pumpkin, and my prince lost to me.

As people departed and the house emptied, I waited, disappointed, dejected, for Robbie's parents to appear and carry him away. Finally, there was just Robbie and me remaining in the family room; the garage empty of people as well.

"Do you need a ride, Robbie?" I inquired softly. "There seems to be no one here for you."

Before he could answer, Jenny, arms loaded with leftovers and heading toward the kitchen, zoomed through, piping out, "Oh, he's staying here tonight. His folks came to the show last night because they had to go to the University for an activity his older brother is in. He'll sleep in your room with you, Danny. Okay?"

Robbie smiled at me shyly, looking at me head slightly tipped down; my mouth dried, my heart beat faster, and my cock stiffened.

"I guess I forgot to mention that to you while we were visiting, Danny. Is it really okay I spend the night with you?"

Oh, my God; how could I refuse? I tried to sound magnanimous yet humble, but only squeaked, "Sure!"

Robbie yawned, clearly a signal he was ready for bed. "May I take a shower first? I think I really need one."

If I were braver, I'd have volunteered to scrub him – all over! Instead, I tilted my head, much as he had earlier when inviting me to sit with him in the family room, in the direction of my bedroom and he followed me there.

"I'll have to find a sleeping bag or something for you, Robbie," I said hesitantly.

"Don't bother, I'll just crawl in with you," he responded, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Now I was really nervous; fearful I wouldn't be able to conceal my growing tumescence when he crawled into bed. All I'd need would be to pop a bone, jam him in the side with it, and have the kid scream "pervert" in the middle of the night! Wouldn't that just be ducky, love?

"I'll find you a washcloth and towel," and stepped into the bathroom to retrieve them for him. Returning to the bedroom my gaze settled and centered on Robbie already stripped down to a pair of bright blue, string bikini briefs that left little to the imagination. His neat little package bulged just enough in the front to cause mine to twitch and the bare, smooth mounds of his ass cheeks flexed as he walked by me, the towel I handed him tossed across one shoulder and the wash cloth in hand. I swear, he almost skipped to the bathroom.

I quickly stripped to my boxers and slipped into bed. I chose to lie on my side rather than my back thinking, in the condition I was currently in, he'd mistake the blanket for a circus big top tent. Lying there quietly, I heard the shower stop and soon he was back in the bedroom. Standing beside the bed in his starkers, his young, four inch or so prod sticking straight up, decorated by a sparse collection of dark, curly, black pubic hairs sprouting at the base where it connected to his crotch. His balls, nicely shaped and hairless, hung loose from the hot shower. Other than the few hairs at the base of his penis, he was as smooth as a new born babe. God, he was beauty personified!

Bending over, placing his soap dish and shampoo in his gym bag, his sweet, young, ass pointed in my direction revealing the ultimate prize; well washed, pink in the middle, surrounded by tight, little wrinkles, almost begging to be stretched and seeded. With a wiggle and a jiggle of his butt, he locked the bedroom door, turned off the light, and slid into bed next to me. I mean, really, really, next to me! One leg draped over my lower abdomen, pressing down on my own hard cock, covered with my boxers, and his head resting on my chest. Robbie pulled me closer and slowly thrust his hard dick up and down on my stomach.

"I've been wanting to do this forever," he sighed and slipped his hands down my stomach to my waist, under the elastic waist band of my shorts, and closed his warm hand around my dingus.

I squeaked, "How long is `forever'?"

"Ever since I saw you run in a cross country track meet when you were a senior in high school. You didn't wear a jock and I could see your cock wobbling back and forth as you crossed the finish line," and stroked my non-wobbling weapon a couple of times for effect.

"Robbie, are you sure we should be doing this?"

"Yeah!"

His lips began exploring my face, my neck, and finally, locked themselves lightly on mine, sending shivers up and down my spine. First kiss for me – can't you tell? Robbie's tongue tickled my lips, begging to be allowed inside, and once in, explored that sensuous orifice. After a couple of minutes, he desired a southern trip and began kissing and sucking his way toward the South Pole, stopping on the way to sample each of my nips, bringing them to a tautness I'd never had before, circumnavigated my inny bellybutton, before encountering my boxer covered flag pole.

Robbie slid my boxers down far enough to reveal the prize he sought, swirled his tongue around the head, tickled the piss slit with it, before giving my balls a thorough bath, slicking them up enough he was able to suck them, one at a time, into his mouth. Licking his tongue up the dripping head, he hesitated just a moment, sighed, "Nice," before slowly sucking my palpitating penis into his mouth, the warmth of it almost made me shoot my cannon before the battle began. God, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven! He turned, length-wise on my body and offered me his own candy cane and, hesitating so I could admire its exquisite shape and delectability, I quickly engulfed it, loving the very taste and feel of the velvety hard morsel in my mouth. I don't think I can describe the actual taste or the sensation of having Robbie's cock in my mouth; it's just that wonderful, unbelievable, and a taste I was instantly addicted to.

Robbie disengaged his lips from my prick, swiveled again, kissed me, and murmured, "Fuck me, Danny! Please?"

"I've never done it before," I admitted.

"Neither have I; isn't it exciting? We're both virgins!"

"I don't have any lube and I think you're supposed to use that so it doesn't hurt as much and lets me slide in easier."

"Not to worry, Lover; I came prepared," and he reached over the edge of the bed and held up a tube of waterless lubricant, the kind you buy in the pharmacy section of the big box stores. He squeezed a glob on my dick and smeared it around and up and down, then squeezed another glob on his finger, inserted it in his rectum, and greased himself up proper. Robbie rolled over on his stomach, reached back and spread his cheeks with his hands, spread his legs, and admonished, "Go slow!"

I mounted my lovely paramour, viewed with pleasure the puckered orifice presented before me, nudged my dick up against the opening, and slowly began a journey I wished would never end. His anal ring accepted me and as I began a slow advance, gently fucking back and forth while doing so, his ass muscles and bowels massaged and welcomed my presence.

The last vestige of my army of little soldiers was squeezed out by Robbie's contracting sphincter so I quickly rolled him over on his back, locked my lips and mouth around his dripping manhood, and bobbed up and down a couple of times before he began exploding his sweetness into my mouth. I swallowed, allowing him to become part of me as I had become part of him just moments before.

I pulled Robbie into my arms, wrapping him closely to me, knowing this was not going to be the only time we made love.

"This was a set-up wasn't it Robbie?"

"Yeah; it was my idea, but Jenny arranged it. Great wasn't it?"

I couldn't disagree or want to for that matter. No wonder she quite pestering me about finding a boyfriend; there was one home just waiting for me.

***

The End

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Nick Hall

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